#accidental shape language moment

[luckycloverforducks]

The Messiah and the man who devoted his whole life to him until the bitter end (it's Simon Peter)

These r my designs for a story I'm (desperately) trying to write

(it's bible fanfiction, like good omens and.. partially Hazbin..) Abt heaven n hell/the bible and shit yk.... I'm normal I promise

Judas, Lucifer & angels design coming soon probably, and possibly MAYBE the other disciples idk..... I know nothing Abt those guys tbh sorr e

+ design notes I made for myself bc I can and tbh I need it (tho I might change it. I'm not exactly consistent idk)

Btw the forehead scar/marking on Jesus is fully inspired by the last unicorn, it's basically where his 3rd eye/"God Eye" is, when opened he becomes fully omniscient like Big G (he's not in his neutral state cause well, half human, also he doesn't like it), it's like a special ability LOL ; under the hair it's diamond/star shaped-ish (✨)

[d3arapril]

[reup] birthday girl | p.b

pairing: paige bueckers x f!reader word count: 4.6k warnings/tags: alcohol consumption (they're tipsy), switch!paige, oral (r!receiving), fingering (p&r!receiving), sex toys (p!receiving), spit, language, assplay (r!receiving) ᡣ𐭩 as many of u are aware i accidentally deleted my account - luckily i have managed to recover this gem! if you're thinking hm i swear i used to follow her - YOU DID! please re-join me on this journey and please re-indulge yourselves in this dirtiness for BDB PB's birthday. reblogs are appreciated more than ever given the circumstances lol ! :D love u all x

You sway slightly on your feet, the alcohol making your head feel lighter than it should as you fumble to light the candle on the heart-shaped cake. Your socks shuffle on the cool kitchen tiles, the slight friction grounding you as you flick at the lighter.

"Need help?" Azzi peeks over your shoulder to watch you flick at the lighter. When the small flame finally ignites, you both let out a victorious "Ah!"

"Nope," you pop the p, turning to smile at your friend. "I got it!"

You'd organised a small get together with close friends for Paige's birthday at her request. Not too much, she'd insisted when you'd first asked her what she wanted to do. So, of course, you made a list of those she actually liked and invited them over.

Now, you're standing behind Azzi as she leads you out of the kitchen and shuts off the lights. You hold the cake up with both hands, lips in a tight line as you focus on holding it steady. Admittedly, you'd all had a bit more to drink than originally planned. Tiktok's were filmed, drinking games were played and shots were consumed.

The girls break out into an out of tune rendition of happy birthday as soon as you enter the room, toothy grin plastered across your face when you lock eyes with Paige. She's smiling right back at you and although the room is dark you can just make out the blush on her cheeks.

She blows out the candle and her index finger swipes through the icing decorating the edge of the cake. She sucks it into her mouth, eyes still trained on yours. "Mm," she makes a noise in her throat. "Tastes good."

It's almost like slow motion, the way her mouth closes and her tongue comes out to lick at her lips. It's all you can focus on– her. You shake it off, not letting yourself get lost in the moment in front of all of your friends. You place the cake down onto the table and just like that the party continues, more drinks are poured and the night wears on.

A few hours later, most of the girls have called it a night. Now, it's just you, Paige, Azzi, Kayla and Kk remaining. You're squished between Paige and Kayla on the couch, Paige's right leg slung over yours. You're trying your best to listen to the conversation going on around you, but the mere feeling of Paige's skin on yours makes it harder to concentrate.

"You want another?" Paige’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. She gestures to the red cup loosely clutched in your hand.

You glance down at it and shake your head. "Nah, I’m good. I think I’d actually like to remember tonight," you say with a chuckle.

Paige laughs softly, her hand giving your thigh a playful squeeze. "Smart move." She turns to Kayla, nudging her gently. "What about you? Tapping out?"

Kayla glances at her phone, her eyes widening slightly as she reads the time—1:29 AM. "Wow– I didn't realise it was that late." Kayla yawns as she stands up, ruffling at Paige's hair. "It's not your birthday anymore, Bueckers."

"It's still my day, though." Paige pouts, leaning her head back to look at Kayla. Always such a big baby.

"Yeah, yeah, birthday girl," Kayla laughs, ruffling Paige’s hair before heading to the door. She glances over at Azzi, who’s now half-asleep, sprawled across Kk’s lap. "You guys heading out too?"

Azzi and Kk exchange tired glances before they, too, gather their things. After a round of group hugs, the door finally closes, leaving you and Paige alone in the now-quiet living room. You survey the aftermath; red cups litter the floor, empty bottles are stacked haphazardly on the coffee table.

“Jeez,” you mutter, shaking your head at the mess. “This’ll be fun to clean up tomorrow.”

Paige hums in agreement, her arms suddenly wrapping around your waist from behind you. She pulls you back against her, resting her chin on your shoulder. “I had a good night,” she says softly, her breath tickling your ear. “Thank you.”

"No need to thank me," you smile. "I had fun, too. Did you have a good birthday?"

"The best," her arms squeeze you a little tighter, nose nudging at your cheek. You lean back into her, hands covering her own. "Thank you baby."

"Anything for you," you smile, tilting your neck back to look at her.

"Really?" her head tilts towards you as she presses a kiss to your cheek.

"Always."

She hums, her hands sliding down to your hips, squeezing gently as she leans in closer. "Not to be greedy," there's a pause as she gives you another squeeze, lips ghosting down your neck. "But where's my gift?"

Paige grins against your neck, the curve of her lips brushing your skin. “Maybe,” she murmurs before her teeth lightly nip at the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

"You gonna give me something good?"

Her lips are against your pulse point now, sucking the sensitive skin into her mouth. A sigh escapes your lips and you reach your hands up and back, fingers tangling in her hair. Paige's hands roam your body, trailing up and down your sides before one cups at your breast.

"Paige," you moan softly, her name escaping your lips as her mouth finds yours. The kiss is slow and deep, both of you still tasting faintly of vodka and cherry, the alcohol mixing with the heat between you. Her hand cups your jaw, angling your face just right as the kiss intensifies.

She pulls away first, a thin string of saliva connecting your lips. Her breathing is ragged, voice low as she pants, "Bedroom."

Your fingers interlock with hers, feet padding softly against the floor as she leads you down the hallway. Her thumb rubs soft circles into the back of your hand and it's a subtle reminder of how much she loves you.

Paige stops outside of her bedroom door and pauses. Her eyes are soft and there's a smile gracing her lips. "What?" you smile back, free hand reaching up to brush a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Nothing, just." her hand lifts and squeezes your wrist. "I really love you, s'all."

You roll your eyes, playfully. "You're such a sap,"

"You gonna let this sap eat your pussy, orrrr..?" she smirks as she drags out the word, opening the door to her room and pulling you in. She pushes it shut behind you, tipsy fingers fumbling with the lock.

The room is surprisingly bright, the main light still on from when Paige must've last been in there. "You left the light on," you say monotonously which earns you an eye roll from Paige. She doesn't respond, just flicks her head towards the bed as an instruction for you to get over there.

"Someone's eager." you grin, walking backwards until the back of your legs hit her bed.

"Mhm," Paige hums, stepping closer to you. She pauses for a moment, as though she's figuring out her next move. "Turn over."

Your knees are weak as you flip yourself over, resting on your hands and knees. She wastes no time, making quick work of pulling your leggings and panties down your thighs. She lets out a moan at the sight of you, exposed and waiting.

"Damn," she mumbles under her breath, hand running along the curve of your ass cheek, giving it a squeeze. "Now this is a birthday cake."

Your head drops between your shoulders, laughter shaking your frame. "Wow, P. That's corny."

"Shut up," she's giggling, too, but there's a tone of authority in her voice. The sound of her kneeling behind you is audible and the feeling of her presence looming over you is enough to keep you quiet.

Her hands grip at your ass again and squeeze, nails digging into the soft skin. Your fingers curl into the sheets, a gasp leaving your lips. A stray finger traces a pattern across the dimples in your lower back, lower, lower until it brushes over the puckered hole you're both yet to try. Yeah, she's pressed her thumb against it more times than she'd like to admit but she's never 'breached the surface' as she'd say.

"You gonna let me have here?" she leans down, pressing a chaste kiss to the base of your spine. "It is my birthday, after all."

You hesitate, hand letting go of the sheets to reach back for her. "What about you?"

Paige squeezes at your forearm, "I'll get mine, don't worry."

She moves your arm back down beside you, hands coming to rest on either side of your ass. She pulls your cheeks apart, breath warm against you. "Can I?"

You moan out a yes, dropping your forehead against the mattress. Paige wastes no time, head dipping down and licking a fat stripe up your pussy, tongue sliding between your folds. She's sloppy, spit mixing with the slick that now coats her chin. She's moaning into you and you wish you could see how this looked from the outside.

You're shaking in front of her, fingers twisting and tugging at the sheets. She pulls away for a second, gathers the mixture of her spit and your juices in her mouth and spits it back onto you. She rubs it in with her thumb, digit ghosting over the ring of muscle.

"Fuck, Paige," you groan, shaking hand blindly reaching back to pull her closer, push her away- you weren't even sure at this point.

The girl hums, thumb stilling. "You want me to put it in?

You nod, cheek flat against the mattress.

"Speak to me."

"Please, please." you beg.

"Please what?"

"Fuck," you groan, inhibitions leaving your body. "Do anything, please. Eat my pussy–my ass, please, please–" You're so desperate you can barely even recognise your own voice.

"Relax baby," Paige coos, leaning down to press a kiss to your ass cheek. "I got you."

You feel her pull away and you're about to protest, kick your feet out at her and cuss her out until you feel her shuffling around on the bed behind you. You use the little strength you have remaining to push your head off of the bed and you see her lying on her back, half of her body hanging off of the bed. Damp fingers squeeze at your ass, dragging you back just enough so your pussy is directly over her mouth.

She's back at it like she never left, sucking your clit into her mouth and massaging her tongue over it. Her thumb finds home against your ass again, pressing against your hole as her tongue teases over your folds. The pressure is immense, the tip of her thumb slipping past the tight ring of muscle and you choke on air. You're not sure if it's a good or bad thing that you can't breathe, everything in you constricting, heart hammering against your chest.

You press against the mattress and hold yourself up, now fully kneeling over Paige. You brush the blonde strands from her face, your girlfriend's eyes fluttering open to lock onto yours. As soon as you make eye contact you hear feel her moan into your pussy, thumb sliding an inch deeper.

Your hips grind against her at their own accord, fingers now knotted in Paige's hair as you moan out into the cool air of her room. Your stomach tenses, thighs working overtime to hold you up. The chord in your stomach grows tighter and you open your mouth to warn Paige that you're about to cum but your words get lost in the mess of moans and pants and incoherent syllables.

It washes over you like a tidal wave, orgasm rattling your entire body. Paige moans into you the entire time, tongue messily sliding over your pussy as she laps you up. Her thumb leaves your ass with a pop and she presses her head back into the mattress just enough to be able to breathe out a "You good?"

Shaking legs shuffle you down her body until you're sat on her stomach, grimacing at the stickiness between your thighs. Paige can't help the laugh that leaves her, hands rubbing up the fronts of your thighs as she takes you in.

"You look fucked."

"Well," you pinch at her side, "You fucked me good, birthday girl."

She wiggles her eyebrows at that, hands leaving your thighs to grip at your ass cheeks. She squeezes, tongue licking around her lips. Her lids flutter shut as she tastes the remnants of you against her, lashes fluttering against her cheek.

You watch her silently from above, fingers trailing across her chest. Her shirt sticks to her skin slightly, sweat beading across her body. "Want this off?"

She nods, eyes opening. "Please."

You clamber off her and watch as she pulls the shirt over her head, throwing it into a random corner of her room. Her sports bra follows and she mindlessly rubs her hands over her chest, grateful she's no longer constricted by the material.

"So," you start, pushing her back by her shoulder and ghosting your lips across her nipple. She's flat against the bed again and you're perched beside her, ass up and feet kicking out as your tongue peeks out to lick at the sensitive nub. "How do you plan on 'getting yours'?"

You recite the words she'd said to you earlier and she snickers, back arching slightly when you suck her nipple into your mouth. "I got something-" she sucks in a breath when your teeth bite into the swell of her breast, pink mark left in their wake. "Something in the drawer."

Your eyebrows perk up at that, leaving one last kiss against her tit as you climb off the bed and saunter towards her bedside drawer. You pull open the rickety drawer and there's a purple wand staring right back at you.

You turn back to look at her, watching as she shuffles up the bed, head now resting on the pillows. "How long have you had this?"

Paige shrugs, a smug look on her face. "Got it a couple days ago. A gift from me, to me."

You fish it out of the drawer and inspect it, it's fairly heavy- three heart shaped buttons on the purple rubber handle. "Have you used it?"

"Nah," she taps her fingers against her stomach, nonchalant. "Wanted to use it with you."

You let out a hum of approval, turning back to face her. She's propped herself up on her elbows, legs bent at the knee and open. Her thighs are spread wide, fabric of her navy shorts stretching across the expanse of the muscle.

You sit at the end of the bed, turning the toy on and letting it vibrate against the palm of your hand. "It's intense," you muse, not able to mask the smile growing on your features. "Did you deliberately choose this?"

Paige's blush deepens, feet kicking out to hit your thigh. "Shut up, no."

You can't help but laugh at her, crawling forward and leaning down to press a kiss just above her bellybutton. She's watching you carefully, waiting to see what you're going to do.

"This is new," you say, watching the way her breathing changes with every gentle touch. "I usually have to work to get you like this, but you're so–" you bite down on her skin, letting her feel the dull ache before sucking at the mark. "Are you becoming needier in your old age?"

"Fuck you," she spits, but there's no real venom in her words. Her abs are drawn tight and she's got her hands fisted by her sides; she's clearly desperate. "It's my birthday, be nice."

"Need I remind you," you flick the waistband of her shorts and boxers against her skin, pulling at them slightly to hint at her to lift her hips. She does as you wish and you slide them off of her, abandoning them at the end of the bed. "It's not your birthday anymore."

Paige makes a sound in the back of her throat, hips raising as she tries to get you to touch her. She's been on the edge since she saw you walking towards her with that cake in your hands, the amount of love you have for her so evident in your expression that it drove her fucking insane. She feels her entire body burning up, thighs shaking as her hands clutch at the sheets.

You settle comfortably between her legs, head dipping down to press a kiss to the inside of her thigh.

"What do you want me to do? I'll let you pick, my treat."

She rolls her eyes at that, breath shaky as she answers. "Use the thing."

You lean forward, lips ghosting over hip bone. You breathe out a laugh, tongue licking against the skin. "The thing? Like the movie?"

You feel Paige tug at your hair, an annoyed whine leaving her throat. "Stop fucking with me, please."

That's enough to satisfy you, dipping down lower to place a chaste kiss against her clit. She sucks in a sharp breath at the feeling, hips canting up to catch your mouth. Your tongue peeks out to lay flat against it, slowly moving your head up and down to provide just enough friction to make Paige's toes curl.

"Fuck," she breathes out, head tilted back against the pillow. "Need more."

Your right hand blindly fumbles around the bed for the wand, left hand now busy rubbing slow circles into her clit with your thumb. Her abs ripple, chest heaving from the feeling of it all. It's so much, yet nowhere near enough at the same time.

As soon as you press the on button the toy springs to life again, loud vibrations humming out into the air of the room. It almost makes your entire arm shake from how intense it is but you prevail, sitting up slightly to trail it between the valley of her breasts.

"What're you-" Paige cuts herself off, the both of you not able to contain your laughter because she sounds like some sort of fucked up robot when she speaks, the vibrations distorting her voice.

"Just," you lift the toy away from her chest to press a kiss to her lips, both of you smiling against each other. "Relax, enjoy it babe."

You trail the wand further down her body, letting it rest just above her clit. Her hips tilt up again, head lolling forward so she can watch. Your free hand presses against her stomach, keeping her flat to the bed.

"I said, relax."

"I am relaxed."

You scoff, not giving in to her attitude. You keep the wand where it is, just out of reach from where she needs it most. You move the hand from her stomach and let your fingers tickle against her inner thigh, inching closer and closer to her pussy. Your fingertip trails against her folds and, as you expected, she's soaked. It wasn't too often you'd swap roles like this, let her fully relax whilst you took control of the reigns but you knew she enjoyed this. Loves letting you do whatever you want to her.

You let a single finger dip between her folds, sliding up, down and then sinking inside of her. It's not much of a stretch from how wet she is, slides in easily. You pump the singular finger in and out slowly, eyes trained on Paige's face.

She's got her eyes screwed shut, head still lolled on her shoulder. Her eyebrows are furrowed, lips in a slight pout. You hover the vibrator just above her clit and when you press it down against her, her eyes shoot open and eyebrows raise in shock.

"Holy shit," she gasps, one hand wrapping around your wrist whilst the other shoots up to grab at the pillow beside her. "That's– fucking hell."

Her mouth is wide open, tongue hanging out just the tiniest bit in a daze. The room is filled with the sounds of the toy and her moans, her hips lifting off of the bed to chase the sensation. You press the wand down harder, letting it buzz against her clit. You can feel it vibrating through your arm and the vibrations are strong, making you wonder just how powerful it is. You make a note to get her to use it on you, next time.

You move the toy against her in slow circles, slipping another finger into her pussy and curling them up. "Good?"

Paige's chest is flushed, heaving with each deep breath she takes. It's almost like she doesn't know what to do with herself, head tipping back to the pillow and then tossing to the side. "Yeah," she breathes out, voice hoarse. "Good."

Your thumb reaches up to press at one of the buttons to increase the intensity, vibrations now pulsing against her. She whines, high pitched and strained as it all becomes too much. Your fingers curl faster inside of her, the squelching from her pussy just audible over the vibrations from the wand.

Her hips tilt up faster, feet slipping against the mattress as she chases the feeling. If she could see herself she'd be embarrassed by how easily she's succumbed to the pleasure, scrambling against the bed pathetically. She can't think straight, only able to focus on the feeling of her orgasm approaching.

"It's-" she can barely get her words out, sweat making her body glisten. You watch her with a smirk on your face, satisfied. "I think-"

"What's wrong, babe?"

Paige's eyes are rolled back in her head, head tipped back and neck on show. There's a blue vein stretching across the length of her neck and you find yourself leaning over her and dragging your tongue against it. Paige jumps at the feeling, broken moan leaving her chest. The hand that was wrapped around your wrist moves to your shoulder, blunt nails biting against your skin.

You're still moving the toy in slow circles, rubbing it against her clit. Paige is moaning, groaning- gravelly noises leaving her throat as the hand on your shoulder moves to your hair. She moves her head to face you, watery eyes boring into your own.

"Gonna cum," she whispers against your lips, barely audible over the noise from the toy. "Fucking–feel it in my chest."

You bite at her bottom lip, teeth pulling at her pout. Your nose presses against hers as you watch her unravel, watch a tear spill from her eye and drip down her cheek. "Yeah, birthday girl?"

Your fingers speed up, curling so quickly you fear they might end up cramping. Your wrist begins to ache from holding the toy, too but you keep going because it's all worth seeing your girlfriend like this.

The blonde lets out a combination between a cry and a moan, thighs squeezing around you and keeping you trapped as she cums. The vibrator slips a little from how wet she's become but you're quick to put it back in place.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she's chanting out to nobody in particular, thighs tightening and feet kicking against your back. You let her do it, let it happen as she goes silent. You feel it before you hear it, her hips rolling up and thighs shaking against you as she floods your fingers, and then- "I'm fucking-fucking cumming, oh shittttt."

The words leave her through gritted teeth, fingers finding their way under your shirt to scratch against your skin. You lean back to watch her in all her glory; head craned back against the pillow, nipples hard and hair matted against her forehead.

Your fingers slip out of her first and you sit them on your tongue, licking around them and moaning from the taste. You turn the vibrator off and chuck it beside Paige who is breathing so heavily you think she might pass out, eyes closed and lips dry.

You rub a comforting hand against her thigh, a soft touch to keep her grounded. You cast a glance down to her pussy and you can see the wet patch underneath her on the bed, dark and soaking into the cotton sheets.

"Wow," is all she says, body relaxing against the bed. Her eyes open and she softly smiles as soon as she sees you, shaking hand resting atop of your own. "Happy birthday to me."

You opt to lay beside her, leg kicked over her thighs with your head resting on her shoulder. "Feeling okay?"

"Honestly," she tucks her chin in to look down at you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Best birthday gift ever."

"Doesn't count if you brought it for yourself, though." you counter, tilting up to look at her. You catch her rolling her eyes at you, the hand she'd settled around your waist digging in below your ribs.

"'Kay, where's my gift from you then?"

"Don't be greedy, Bueckers." you tease sliding out from beside her and walking towards where your bag was abandoned several hours ago. Paige lets out a whistle as she watches your ass as you walk away from her, rolling onto her side.

"Where you goin'?"

You ignore her, rummaging through your back to look for the jewellery box you'd so carefully wrapped last weekend. Much to relief you find it still intact and spin around, holding it behind your back as you saunter back towards Paige. You make sure to grab her clothes on the way, throwing them in her direction.

She raises an eyebrow at you, pulling just her boxers back up over her legs and an oversized t-shirt over her head. You do the same, keeping the box in your hand as you put her shorts on.

"A gift for little old me?"

You have to resist rolling your eyes at her, crouching down so you're at the same height. You hold the small box between you both and hold your gaze with Paige, watching as her eyes light up in anticipation.

"I remember looking at them a while ago," you start, thumb stroking against the patterned paper. "So I got 'em."

Paige frowns, unsure of what you're talking about. She takes the box from you, unsteady fingers pulling at the wrapping paper. She discards the paper beside her on the bed and opens up the box slowly, eyes widening when she sees what's inside.

"You didn't-"

"Don't say a word." you cut her off, knowing she was about to go on a spiel about how she didn't deserve this, how you shouldn't have spent the money, blah blah blah.

"How did you remember?" there's a hint of shock in her voice, as though she couldn't believe you'd remember something that she thought was so insignificant.

You smile at her, taking the box from her and pulling out one of the rings. They're just two simple silver bands with a small heart etched on the inside; nothing too flashy but you vividly remember Paige fawning over them in the store. "We should get matching," she'd suggested to you, nothing but a passing comment.

The ring slides onto her finger with ease and you thank the Gods above that you'd picked the right size. "Feels like we're gettin' married," she snickers, holding her hand up to admire the ring. "Lemme put it on you."

"Nuh-uh!" you whip your hand away from her, wiggling your fingers in the air. "I need to wash my hands after your little performance."

Paige laughs, shoving at your shoulder with no malice. She stands up from the bed, groaning from the ache in her legs. She wraps hand around your arm and pulls you up and into a hug.

"I love you," she mumbles against your shoulder, squeezing you tight. "Thank you, for everything."

You pull back slightly, scratching at the nape of her neck.

"I love you too," you lean in, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"Happy birthday, baby."

[izvmimi]

cw: senku accidentally makes an aphrodisiac and fem!reader helps him out... minors dni! smut but no penetration. american colony au.

Senku rarely makes mistakes, ever, but as Gen has so often pointed out, luck is very often not on the young man’s side - in fact, luck seems to avoid him as though punishing him for refusing to leave his life up to fate. 

Minutes after he’s taken the potion that had been designated by the village doctor as an analgesic, he realizes quickly he’s made a grave one. Sweat beads on his forehead as he breathes in, the very action of drawing in a breath serving to increase the deafening drumbeat in his ears. Thump, thump, thump. The heat clouding his mind right now as he tries to remember where exactly he went wrong, what could have possibly happened to have him in fetal position, tensed up everywhere but especially in the space in between his legs.

Top shelf, to the right. A small vial stopped up with a cork.

Cork. It shouldn’t be a cork, he remembers suddenly. She had said the bottle might be hard to twist open. He must have taken something else. What else could explain the fact that all the blood coursing through his body seems to have collected to one place only, giving him the hardest erection he’s ever had in his life?

The scientist can’t claim to never have thought about sex. After all, he’s young and healthy and as curious about his body as anyone else, even if he’s not so easily persuaded by the prospect of soft round breasts or plush thighs as others, and he prides himself in knowing the basic workings of everything including that particular type of recreation. 

Now it’s all he can think about as he shivers and flushes, blood gorged cock throbbing and desperate to be touched in any way, shape or form.

He’s initially thankful that he was struck by this affliction while hiding away in the lookout tower  in the middle of the night because of its privacy and the ability to rub one or ten out and hopefully turn into a logical human once again, but once he can hear the familiar soft pad of your footsteps approaching up the stairs, he’s repetitively cursing his rotten luck under his strangled breath. 

Scrambling from his position sat in the corner, back against the wall, he quickly finds his way onto a chair, but stumbles, and when your eyes fall onto him, he’s practically face down. 

“Senku?” 

Your voice is soft as usual, not completely sure it’s him in the dim light. Moonlight illuminates part of the wide room, and when he finally rolls over to a cross-legged position, doing his best to hide the embarrassing bump in his clothes, you look at him quizzically.

“Fancy meeting you here!” Senku exclaims. There’s an uncharacteristic upturn to his voice that is a cause for concern.

“You mean, in the tower you supposedly made for me?” you ask. Senku pales, but you’re already sliding down to sit cross-legged next to him. 

“Are you doing okay?” you ask. Leaning over to press a hand to his forehead, you frown at the dampness, while a shudder passes through Senku’s entire body the moment the back of your hand grazes him.

“I’m fine,” he says, coughing to cover up the strain in his voice. His body language is slightly turned away, and so is his face, because he can’t look at you, not like this. Desire pools in his chest heavily, so thick he can barely breathe, and your sweet voice is like water dripping onto an already overfilled cup.

“You don’t sound fine,” you muse. You think of yourself just weeks ago insisting on being left alone despite a raging pneumonia, and move in closer, a move that has him retreat like a trapped mouse. “Did you take the medicine for your headache like you were supposed to?”

Senku would roll his eyes if it weren’t for the fact that an accidental brush of your hand against his could make them roll into the back of his head.

“Your friend might be a quack,” he says, but then quickly adds in fairness, “...the truth is I think I might have picked up something I wasn’t supposed to.”

He laughs, and then feels his cock jump and scrambles to his feet to stand further away. You’re troubled by his anxiety and his refusal to look you in the eye and after a few more questions about his mental and physical state, you decide you’re tired of his dodging questions.

“Senku, what the hell is going on?”

“Nothing,” he lies. He’s thinking of a way to escape without you noticing, but you’ve moved now, and are standing right in front of him, far too close, and your upset look is simply too pretty, and he looks at you almost fearfully.

“I need to go,” he says, and tries to move past you, but you immediately block his path. 

“Senku.”

It only takes one look at the knit in your eyebrows to realize he’s not going to make out of this without the truth. He’s still flushing intermittently, and can feel the tip of his dick more exquisitely than any other part of his body. It takes him a moment to decide, but eventually he realizes he can approach this embarrassing predicament in the best way he can think of.

Logically.

“Whatever I took… I think might be having aphrodisiacal effects on me.”

You blink, bright eyes wide with every bat of your lashes, and he feels the genuine pull of yearning in his loins.

“Oh.”

Senku blushes, the warmth spreading throughout his whole body this time as you finally look down then quickly avert your gaze. In a flash, he wonders for the first time how much you know about sex. Are you a virgin? When was your first time? With who? Would you do it again? With him?

The last thought he immediately banishes from his mind, telling himself that it’s likely the effects of whatever potent concoction is clouding his rationale. Not now. If ever, not this way.

“I… I can help, you know,” you offer. Your voice is quiet, gentle and steady, the same way you speak when you talk to the animals when they misbehave, when you want to reassure without controlling. “Platonically, of course,” you quickly add.

Platonically. Of course. It’s just an urge, and you understand those animalistic urges pretty well, given your breadth of experience in the natural sciences. Just a want. It wouldn’t be a crime if…

You move in close, your hand hovering over his crotch but not touching him. You then look at him, asking with your pupils, and he can swear he can feel his dilate. He nods, and you let your fingers slip beneath the layers of fabric until they reach the slightly coarse grain of his pubes. Your lips part slightly as you move slowly; he’s holding his breath but the moment your finger grazes the skin of his firm shaft, he lets out a moan, covering his mouth immediately to shut himself up.

“It’s fine,” you reassure him. He’s embarrassed, suppressing pants, but you press forward, letting your fingers close around his shaft, one by one. Grip still awkward, Senku shifts, pulling down his pants further, and you pull your lower lip before your teeth briefly before you tug smoothly for the first time. He gasps, and you press your thumb on the tip, right at the orifice of his urethra.

“Have you ever done this before?” you ask, wondering if you should have asked earlier. The small talk is meant to make it more casual, less intimate, but he’s quick to shake his head and say no, breathily.

“Not by anyone who mattered.”

Your heart flutters and you move just a bit faster. Senku moans, throwing his head back, and you keep your pace.

“Is that enough? Are you feeling good?” You slip. You mean better. You’re not trying to pleasure him, you’re trying to help him. 

“Fuck, can you… more… can you-” he stops, then bites his lip. He’s breathing heavier now, the expansion of his chest much more noticeable. He glances at you for a moment, then quickly looks away. If he were to do what he wants to do, ask you for more, press his lips onto yours, would it be using you? Is he allowed to ask that of you? Is it just this… or something else?

Your hand has stopped but he’s whining now, bucking his hips into the base of your fist almost subconsciously. You grip tighter, then slide up and down his shaft again, pressing against the darkened tip more, now slippery with treacherous precum. It occurs to you for a moment that maybe, maybe just a bit more friction would help, and you take the initiative of spitting on your hand, then resuming and he moans, fingers pressed to the floor beside him tensing and tightening as he accepts your onslaught.

Straggled groans escaping his throat, his eyes close, and you watch his Adam's apple bob as he swallows spit and desire. He’s thirsty, needy, unsure if this is making it better or worse.

And just at that moment, you ask, “Are you feeling better, Senku?”

Oh, the way you say his name, he practically spills into your hand. 

“D-don’t talk…” he begs, and your face flinches with hurt, but you remember that you are only helping.

“Mm.”

Your hand keeps moving, and you watch his cock throb and twitch in its grasp. It’s a pretty thing, you let yourself consider for a moment, pretty like the rest of him, eager, greedy… it has been a while, you think, since you’ve been so intimate with someone.

Not intimate. That’s not what this is. You’re helping a friend.

Senku grits his teeth as you spit on your hand again and your moistened palm swirls around his cock. 

There’s no reason for you to be so good at touching him like this. He exhales.

“I’d be a real piece of shit if I asked you for more, wouldn’t I right now?” he finally asks. He’s looking at the ceiling now, trying to contain himself, but how can he when you’re touching him like this and he feels better than he’s ever felt in his life. He’s only mildly coherent at this point, perhaps he should count backwards, perhaps…

“Tell me what you want, Senku, I’ll do my best.”

He turns, and you look at him in just that moment, but you don’t let go of him. 

His hand goes to the back of your neck, pulling you closer and he stops quickly, inches apart. 

You’ve closed your eyes, and you’ve puckered your lips just so. Senku swallows hard, wondering how he could have ever stopped but he knows why.

“It’s not the drugs,” he’s able to eke out. Your eyes open, gentle as they look into his, your lips still parted. Your hand shifts, palm rested on the edge of his warm length. 

“It’s not the drugs,” you repeat.

“I’d feel like this anyway, in this moment,” Senku says. A moment passes. Your tongues passes over your dry lips.

“Do you mean it?” 

Senku doesn’t hesitate, before saying yes.

You press your lips to his first, letting him press his way in and explore, letting him bite your lip and suck, and pass his tongue against your teeth, letting him tip your neck backwards and deepen the kiss. You kiss, and you move your hands and your lips part, and you dip lower, to make him feel pleasure like he’s never seen.

[4ngels0uls]

Fuck me like you mean it. - C.S

Don’t like? Don’t read.

Summary: chris uses y/n as a pillow all the time until Chris uses his “pillow” and gets needy.

Paring: fem!read + dom!chris

Warnings: SMUT, choking, strong language, p in v, pet name, a little..𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂, squirting, etc

A/N: this has been sitting in my drafts for so long. AND LOL I THOUGHT THE 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 THING WAS FUNNY😭 Also not edited.

————————————————————

First person

I sit in Chris’s bed as I wait for him to come back to his room. I’m laying down on my stomach as my legs kick in the are, biting my nails as I wait. I’m waiting for Chris because he just went out for lunch with his triplet brothers for a YouTube video. Matt has always been a bitch to me, sometimes but mostly. I wish Matt wasn’t so awful to me.

Nick likes me tho other than Matt. Nick likes me because I’m his best friend as he says, in fact I am his best friend and he’s my best friend. Chris is my best friend, I want to be more than friends with Chris though. Chris is one of the guys you would die to just fuck, or date.

but I want both.

————————————————————

I lay down staring at the roof as I zone out. I hear the front door open, there back. I sit there laying in the bed and Chris walks back in. “Oh I thought you went home.” He says as he puts his phone down and comes up above me and lays his head between my breasts. “no I was bored and I wanted to just stay here and wait for you.” I reply.

“I’m glad you didn’t leave. You’re my pillow” he says as he closes his eyes. I chuckle at his words and play with his hair. He accidentally bucks his hips to move up but as he does he realizes his hips are in between mine. “I’m so sorry…” he says as he grows a boner. “It’s fine.” I chuckle as he gets up and runs to the bathroom.

————————————————————

Those were just one of the moments that happened that I could have just fucked Chris right there and then but I missed my chance. We’re all watching a movie, sitting in the living room. “This movie is so fucking boring!” Chris complains. “Shut the fuck up kid” Matt argues. “Shh!” Nick says as his eyes are attached to the tv on the wall.

Chris looks at me and whispers. “can we go do something alone without these fuckers?” I chuckle a little at his words and nod. Chris stands up and hold his hand out in front of me. I take his hand and stand up. “Where are you to love birds going?” Matt asks. “Matt… Shit the fuck up.” Chris says boldly. “Seesh just a question.” Matt says In a sassy way. Me and Chris walk off to his room.

I close the door behind me. I walk over to Chris’s bed and flop down. Chris chuckles. “That movie was so fucking boring.” Chris says. “Yeah.” I reply. I crawl more up and lay my head down on his pillows. Chris gets up and sits in his gaming chair. “I wanna go live on twitch.” Chris says. “Then do it.” I say back. “Will you stream with me?” He asks. “Sure.” I say.

He loads up the stream and starts it as I sit beside him on a small chair. The chat flows in as everyone asks who I am since I’m never in their videos. “This y/n.” Chris says to the computer. I smile slightly. I shake my leg out of pure anxiety. Chris puts his hand on my thigh as he talks into the computer screen. I blush a bit as he puts his hand on my thigh.

Chris looks at me “you okay?” He asks. I smile and nod. “Yeah I’m fine.” I say. Matt barges in the room. “How come your streaming without me and ni- woah there…” Matt says. Nick follows up behind Matt as his eyes go wide. Chris takes his hand off my thigh almost immediately. “Shut the fuck up matt.” Chris says. Matt just chuckles and walks away. Nick also just walks away.

After a bit Chris ends the stream. He faces towards me. He grabs me and I gasp as he lifts me up. “Chris!” I yell as he lays me down and lays his head down on my stomach. “My pillow.” He says and I laugh. He traces shapes on my stomach. I play with his brown locks. His hair falling through out my fingers. Chris moves more up to put his head between my breasts.

“Chris?” I question. “mhm?” He hums in a raspy tone. I stay quiet for a second. “what’s the most fucked up thing you’ve ever done?” I ask. “hmmm… I really don’t know…” he sounds as if he’s hiding something. “you’re such a little babyyy” I tease. “nooo.” He answers. He crawls more up and burys his face in my neck. he kisses my neck slowly. “c-Chris?…” I mumble. “Hmmm?” He Hums.

He continues to kiss my neck and leave hickeys all over. He kisses up to my jawline and kisses me. I instantly kiss back. He puts his hand up my shirt, feeling my body. I let a soft whimper out by accident. Chris looks at me and smiles. Matt knocks on the door. “Fuck you want!?” Chris yells. “We have to go somewhere in an hour, y/n can come to!” Matt yells back.

“What is it!?” Chris yells. “A dinner with everyone. Like sam and colby and fucken Jake and Johnnie. All of them!” Matt yells. “Alright then!” Chris yells back as Matt walks away from the door. “We have a bit of time if you want to.” Chris hints to me. I smile. “Yeah I’m down.” I say back. Chris pulls his shirt off and kisses me roughly. I kiss back in the same way.

Chris tugs on my shirt, hinting to tell me to take it off. I Peel my shirt off of my body as he stares at my tits in awe. “fuck your beautiful.” Chris says quietly. I chuckle a little at his comment. He looks up at me “what? You don’t think you’re beautiful?” He says. “You’re starring at my tits while calling me beautiful. What do you think?” I say and he just shrugs.

He kisses my neck down to my collar bone. He kisses down my stomach and undoes the string to my sweat pants. He pulls my pants down and sees how soaked my underwear is. “fucking slut. Soaked like crazy when I’ve barely touched you.” He says in a soft tone. He kisses my inner thighs, teasing me and my core. “Chrisss” I whine. “so impatient, huh?” He says as he softly places his thumb on my clit through my underwear. I let a soft pathetic whimper out.

“Pathetic.” Chris mumbles as he slides my underwear off. “such a pretty pussy, huh?” He questions. “Mhm” I mumble not really caring. He places a soft kiss on my core. I whimper. He sucks on my clit making me gasp. “F-fuck..” I moan out. He shoves a finger in my core and sucks on my clit. He curves his fingers inside of me making me practically scream. He slaps his hand over my mouth. My hands grip on to his hand and he groans at the feeling. “Chris!” I mumble against his hand. I start to grind into his face.

He pulls his mouth away fast and i whimper from the loss of pleasure. “Such a needy girl.” He says as he shove his face right back into my pussy. My legs start to shake. “Chris!” I scream into his hand as I release my cum into his mouth. He pulls his mouth away and smirks as my cum drips from his chin to his neck. “Fuck you taste good.” He says with a whisper.

Chris pulls his pants down and his underwear as his dick slaps against his stomach. I lay down on my back and my knees up. “fuck me like you mean it.” I say as I there. “will do.” He answers back. He takes his dick in hand and jerks himself off a bit. Holy shit he’s big…. He slaps his dick against my aching core. He slowly slides himself in as i whimper from him stretching me out. “fuck Chris…” I mumble. “fuck your tight..” he groans.

He thrusts his hips a bit faster than he was. He leans down and he burys his face in my neck as he thrusts balls deep in me. “O-oh F-fuckk!” I moan against his hand. “s-such pretty noises.” He mumble into my neck and his balls slap against my ass. He speeds his pace up more as he practically pounds into me. “S-such a good girl, huh?” He says. I stay quiet as I have nothing to say. He sits more up and grips my hips fucking me way faster, fucking me dumb now.

“I- F-fuc- sh- Chris!” I scream into his hand again. “fucking take this dick.” He groans as a pounds into me and I scream. I dig my nails into his back and he hisses from the slight pain. He groans at the sight of me being fuck out. “Chris Chris Chris!” I moan against his hand. “S-such a pretty girl.” He groans and pumps into me. “Close!” I yell against his hand. “Just wait.” He says with dominance.

He pulls out and flips me over. He ties my arms behind my back. He slides himself back into my core. He holds onto my hips and he starts pounding into my pussy as he did before. He puts his hand on the back of my neck, choking me. My face smushes against the pillows. “Chris Chris!” I scream as I Cum around his dick. He does one last thrust as he fills me up with his warm load, Painting my walls completely white.

He plops down beside me as we both calm down from our highs. His cum slowly dripping out of me. He pushes me on my back and taps his dick on my clit. “are you really hard again?” I ask him and he nods. I chuckle a little as he pushes himself inside of me. I gasp at the exact pleasure I had before. He thrusts his hips, pounding into me making only moan his name over and over again.

He takes one of my nipples into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around making me moan louder. I bite my lip so I’m not so loud. He pulls his mouth away and pounds into me. “don’t bite your lip, I waist to hear those pretty noises.” He says. “Fuck! Wh-what about y-your brothers?” I ask. “let them hear how good I make you s-sound.” He says. I moan as he talks and he keeps pounding me. “mmm fuck!” I moan loudly.

“fucking little slut.” He says as he holds his hand on my neck while fucking me crazy. Tears flow into my eyes from the overstimulation. “you’re so fucking beautiful.” He mumbles as he burys his face into my neck, kissing my neck adding to the pleasure. “Chris!” I scream as I release. My visions going white as I release. “Holy fuck..” he says. “Did you just squirt…?” He chuckle. “My face goes red from embarrassment. “I think so…” I say with pure embarrassment.

He pumps into me one last time while cumming inside of me once again. He stays put as he fills me up. He pulls out of me slowly, making sure not to overstimulate me too much. He lays beside me.

“Did I actually make you squirt…?” He asks. “yeah…” I say. “That was the first time that happened.” I say quietly. “that’s fucken cool.” He says childishly. I chuckle. “wait.. the dinner!” I say. “Oh shit..” I get up and find something to wear. I walk over to my vanity and do my makeup.

We get all ready. “You’re so beautiful.” Chris says as he hugs me from behind. I smile as Matt yells. “Y/n, Chris! Come on!” Matt yells. We all get into the car.

We get to the dinner and me and Chris sit beside each other as then.. I feel his cum leak out of my stretch out hole. I blush and grab a napkin as I clean myself up as everyone is busy. The only one that notice was Chris. And he know exactly why I was doing that.

but at least… he fucked me like he meant it.

————————————————————

Little a/n

HERE YAA GOOO

this took me sooo longgg.

but yuh.

And byeeeede

𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

To Love You (Platonic Yandere!Child x Monster!Reader)

Chapter 1: This child needs me

[part 0, here, 2]

CW: femme bodied GN Reader, monster stuff, accidental adoption, description of nudity (non sexual)

Avery stood as still as the trees he hid behind while he watched the thing become a poor imitation of his mother.

If he barely closed his eyes it would have looked like her, but with his brown eyes wide open, staring at it's nude form, Avery wondered if the monster even knew what a human looked like. Their body was the right height, but the shape was off; it had no breasts, nor genitalia. The creature had taken a quick look at the clothed woman and guessed what her body looked like.

Everything about the monster felt off. Like a mannequin come to life. The skin had no texture or character, no discoloration or birthmarks. The hair was a slightly wrong shade and a little too long. But the worst part of the being was it's face.

It whipped around, staring at Avery with eyes slightly too wide, showing the whites above and below the iris. It's lips were an absurdly red shade, as though it thought the lipstick the woman was wearing was her natural lip color. But what made the face really off putting was the fact that it was too symmetrical. Avery couldn't verbalize that that was what was wrong, but it didn't have the same human inconsistency that his mother's face naturally had.

And for a moment, Avery remembered every single time his mother grabbed his arm a little too tightly.

She never would have killed him. And he told himself that she loved him. But it didn't matter how often she would buy him ice cream after a big fight, or how sweetly she smiled at him, it didn't stop him from flinching whenever she raised her hand.

He didn't know why he did it. Maybe it was the same reason he had grabbed the steering wheel earlier.

Avery rushed forward, and held the monster as tightly as he could.

(Reader) was filled with confusion. Not only was their disguise less than passable, but they were positive that the little boy saw them kill his mom. So why did he hold onto them as though they were the hero?

Their hand reached down and slid over his dirty back. Thoughts of ripping out his spine and eating him as well filtered through their mind, but instead they went on autopilot, as though their true identity had not been exposed already. "Let's go home."

Avery slowly released the monster, looking up at them with large, teary eyes. "Okay.. mommy."

(Reader) gently held the boy's hand in their own, and allowed him to lead them to the damaged vehicle.

It was much more advanced than the last time they saw a carriage, but this wasn't the last time they slept through major technological advancements. They would adapt. They always did.

Tiny frozen fingers squeezed (Reader's) hand to get their attention. "It's too broken to drive. But there's a coat in the back."

The monster looked down, remembering their nakedness. Unlike humans they did not feel the cold, and when they were in their true form they had no need for clothing.

Ripping open the smashed door with ease, (Reader) found a long winter jacket that when they slid it on fell to their knees. Avery still stood by their side, expectantly holding out his arm stiffly so he could hold their hand again. Although it always took a bit for the ancient one to get their mind in order after a long slumber, even they could see that the newly orphaned child was an odd one.

It wasn't customary to ask questions. They just killed people and replaced them. Those who learned of their true nature were also killed. And it had been that way for as long as (Reader) could remember. They had been both man and woman and those who were neither; they had spoken many languages in many skins and lived many lives. But this child was holding out his hand, knowing that they were not his mother.

"Which way is home?" They asked, their voice parroting the sound of the woman screaming her last words, calling out for her child.

Avery still held out his hand expectantly. "Down the road. It's really far."

The creature looked at his hand, then at his small legs, and realized how long it would take if he meant that they lived at the bottom of the mountain. They grabbed him under his arms and easily swung Avery onto their back. Perhaps they would keep him alive, just until they found a better family to cleanly assimilate into.

"Am I heavy?" Avery asked with a surprised tone.

"No." (Reader) almost found his question amusing. Did he not see them rip the car door off?

The six year old thought about when he was sick the year before, and purposefully acted more pathetic than he felt because he wanted his mother's attention. How he sobbed loudly because he was too ill to walk to his bed from the couch. So his mother left him to sleep out in the living room.

It was dangerous, but the idea that this creature was his savior, and not just a monster, gave the child more confidence than he should have had, given his situation. "Are you a girl?"

".. No."

".. Are you a boy?"

sigh "No."

"Oh.." The boy leaned down harder into their back, snuggling into their hair. They didn't smell like their mom's shampoo, they smelled like dirt after the first rain in a long time. "Can I still call you mom?"

(Reader) tried to recall if this had ever happened to them. Had there ever been a time that someone learned of their true nature, and still wanted to pretend like everything was fine? They remembered the last time someone figured out that (Reader) was a monster. The poor wife had snapped, months of little clues here and there had convinced her that her husband was not her husband, but no one would believe her. Not until she stabbed (Reader) in the chest, and the thing that looked like her husband did not die.

"Yes, you may." (Reader) didn't know why they were amusing the human like they were. But it felt very warm when he constricted his arms around their neck like a snake.

He smiled into their hair. Avery didn't know it, but he was just as confused as (Reader) was. "My name is Avery. Avery Jones. What's your name?"

The creature paused. They knew their name. It was the name of a human they took a long time ago. But they wouldn't tell that to this kid. That the only name they ever thought of as their own, was the name of a child who's life they stole, a child they lived as. It was the longest they pretended to be human. It felt nice. All those years ago. They couldn't remember now what that face looked like, nor why they were so attached to it, but they became (Reader).

"I am now your mother.. What is my name?"

"Luanne. Luanne Octavia Jones."

(Reader) mimicked a laugh, their smile equally as wide on their top lip as their bottom lip. "What a terrible name!"

"Oh..I'm sorry.." Avery tensed up.

"I think I'll prefer Mom."

They felt him relax again. The longer the two walked, the more intriguing the child became. (Reader) murdered his mother. They bit her head in half. They tore her apart, ripped off her limbs, and ate her while he hid not too far away. Perhaps he was in shock?

"Do you know what I am?"

Their eyes opened harder than what was physically possible. Why did they ask that?

Avery wiggled a little. "A hero? Like the Martian Manhunter?"

"What is that?"

"A cool hero from Mars! He helps Superman! And he can change into stuff!"

(Reader) could have scoffed. Them? A hero? But the situation was slowly starting to make sense. 'And so, I am a hero..'

His body was lighter than (Reader) remembered human children to be, and they wondered if it was normal. He wasn't much shorter than the average child, but his body was like a housecat's. "How old are you, Avery?"

"Six."

Older than I thought..

(Reader) carried the boy for well over two hours before another automated carriage passed by, slowing and pulling off towards the tree line behind them. Avery sleepily mumbled "It's the police.." as the monster halted their steps.

An officer stepped out, a younger man with hard eyes squinted in suspicion, and approached the two travelers.

"Is everything alright, ma'am?" His green eyes glanced down at their bare legs and dirty feet.

His question woke Avery up, as though he only just then remembered that his mom was not his real mother. "We were in an accident." The boy stuttered out.

"An accident?" The officer looked up the road briefly. "Are you two alright?"

"Ye-"

"Ma'am, where are your shoes?"

He interrupted (Reader), and they immediately considered killing him. But it was a good question. What were they supposed to say? A mostly naked woman had been found descending the mountain with a child on her back, was strange, most definitely concerning and possibly nefarious. Could he tell that under the long jacket they were nude?

Avery was panicking. They could feel his breathing hitch and hear his heart speed up. "We flipped our car! And- and-"

"I hit my head." They responded more monotonously than they intended. "I don't remember the accident, and I don't know why I took off my clothes." (Reader) reached up and ran their hand across the back of their head. Obscured by their hair and the angle, only Avery saw as one of their nails grew quickly, slicing open part of their scalp, just enough to get blood on their fingers.

The policeman's eyes relaxed their suspicious gaze when they brought their bloody hand out. However, it almost instantly bounced back. "Have you been drinking tonight?"

"No."

"Have you taken any illegal substances? Any medications you've been prescribed?"

The questions were aggravating (Reader). "No."

"Any medical issues I should know about?"

"She's bleeding!" Avery cried out.

"Alright, calm down. I'm going to bring you down to the station. Do you consent to a blood test?"

The police were.. interesting. Having been so many people, the creature was not dumb to the inequalities humans forced upon other humans. They remembered how one body would be treated very differently than another body, but even with having experienced it, if they saw a naked woman walking along the woods, injured, it felt natural that sympathy would have been expressed. Or at least, sympathy for her presumed husband. It didn't matter. Luanne had not fully finished digesting. If they wanted blood for a "blood test" (whatever that was), they could easily supply it. They just hoped that Avery's mother hadn't been drinking. Which was another interesting development. Had the humans made alcohol illegal again?

No matter how unfair this treatment was, (Reader) knew it would get Avery out of the cold sooner. And if things went sideways, they could easily kill this man.

"I do."

Avery was nearly hyperventilating and his grip had tightened like a vice. "Why are you being so mean?!" Tears started to bloom as his voice wobbled. "We had an accident! My mommy was bleeding and took off her clothes! She was just confused, and, and, and that's why she can't remember!"

The man went rigid, and was almost uncomfortable. "Would you like me to call an ambulance?"

"YES!" The boy cried out, shaking against (Reader's) spine like a small dog.

He eyed their legs once again. "Why don't you wait on the back seat, and I'll grab you a blanket?"

It didn't take long for another, larger and brighter colored vehicle to arrive, with people who were much more sympathetic than the officer. One of the men even seemed to be berating the officer while another person checked (Reader's) body for injuries.

"She seems to have a concussion, so I don't know why you would jump to drugs-"

"Look are what she's wearing-"

"-I watched a young man take off his shoes and hide them in a cabinet when he suffered a traumatic brain injury, okay? People do weird things when they're in pain-"

"Still I think-"

"-She should be going to a hospital. They'll test her for alcohol there, but her head is still bleeding, and she has no signs of intoxication other than 'her clothes' and her lack of memory, both of which can be explained by trauma."

The blue clad worker shined a light in (Reader's) eyes, which (Reader) manually dilated to resemble a human's natural response. They continued focusing on their heart rate and breathing, mimicking Avery's as he leaned against their shoulder. "I think it would be best if we take you to the hospital." The person with short hair smiled kindly.

"I just want to go home.. I can't remember anything that happened today, but my son is tired."

"Well.. I can't force you to go to the hospital, but I can call someone to come get you? And recommend that if your memory worsens, or if you feel confused, if you start throwing up, can't sleep, randomly pass out, or develop a fever, you go to an ER as your concussion could be something worse, like an internal brain bleed."

"Someone you could call..?"

"Dad's still at work." Avery whispered.

Ah. So I am married. This new information didn't sit well with (Reader). They had been married before, plenty of times actually; but what kind of man was he if his wife was like Luanne?

Overhearing this, the paramedic chastising the policeman volunteered his services on the officer's behalf. "If you don't have anyone you can call, Officer Delaney can drive you home. But I do suggest you let us take you to the hospital."

"Thank you." (Reader) could see the two men shudder as they smiled at the both of them. "But I'm really tired. And I just want to go home."

"Alright then.. don't hesitate to go to a hospital if your symptoms don't improve." The man shifted his eyes uncomfortably.

(Reader) returned to the police car, Avery securely tucked under their arms and on their hip. Their attempt at human expression had frightened both the medical professional and the officer. "I will."

The little boy held on to (Reader) more aggressively than he ever remembered holding onto his own mother.

It was peculiar.

Had (Reader) ever felt this way before? They had felt attachments before. Held and loved, but those feelings were easily thrown away whenever their hunger reared it's ugly head. But this wasn't the connection of a family loving someone they assumed (Reader) was.

This little boy was not clinging to Luanne Octavia Jones.

Avery was clinging to (Reader).

[aniesvision]

sometimes (matt sturniolo x bff!reader)

warnings: dirty jokes, making out, oral, p in v, no use of y/n, just smut idk how to describe it (?) sorry if I'm missing something

a/n: hi! english is not my first language, but I really hope you like it and if anything's wrong please let me know 💜 also this is kinda long!!

synopsis: when Matt sees his best friend's boobs accidentally and he can't stop thinking about it afterwards.

🪻🪻🪻

I was finishing my shower and night routine, the bathroom door half open as I slide my long t-shirt on, deciding on not wearing a bra for better comfort.

-Hey, we're about to go to Burger King, do you... -I hear Matt's voice getting louder as he gets closer to the bathroom, mindlessly pushing the door open to see me, just to accidentally be surprised by the sight of my bare breasts. -Oh, shit, sorry.

I laugh, not really caring. He was a close friend and it was an accident, and honestly it was just my boobs.

-What were you gonna ask? -I get out of the bathroom, now fully dressed, throwing my wet hair back and out of my shirt.

-I don't... remember. -He keeps staring at the wall, cheeks slightly red in embarrassment.

I smile, taking a few steps closer to him and gently rubbing his arm with my hand.

-It's fine, Matt, not a big deal, I promise. -I try to make him less awkward, which kind of works since he looked at me again and smiled, nodding.

-Nice piercings tho. -He giggles, making me laugh and shake my head in disbelief with his comment.

Suddenly more footsteps could be heard and Chris' face appeared, he was clearly annoyed.

-What's taking so long? -He asks, looking at his brother for an answer.

This makes Matt remember his question, what he meant to do when he walked all the way over the bathroom.

-Oh, yeah, uh, do you wanna go to BK? -He asks, making me giggle a bit and nod.

-Why didn't you ask her when you got here?. -Chris asks, confused, crossing his arms and looking between me and Matt.

I could see Matt's cheeks turning red once more, making me laugh and tap his shoulder playfully, passing through him and Chris while I responded.

-He was freaking out 'cause he accidentally saw my boobs. -I explain, shrugging and taking a turn to reach the stairs to the garage.

Chris looks at Matt with his mouth shaped like an 'O' and eyes widen in shock.

-What the fuck? Did you really? -He asks his brother, letting his arms fall to his sides.

-Yeah. -Matt replies, shyly, putting his hands in his pockets.

-How did they look like? -Chris asks, again, with a playful smirk and clear curiosity. But also, to tease Matt about it. He wasn't gonna let his brother forget this moment ever happened.

-Alright, c'mon dude. -He shakes his head, pushing Chris down the stairs as his brother just laughed.

During the way in, me and Nick talked about Billie's new album and some other songs we liked.

Chris entertained himself with the songs playing, since he had aux, and Matt focused on driving most of the time.

(3rd person)

Matt was constantly fighting his thoughts, the scene of him walking in on you and accidentally seeing your boobs, the way they looked so firm, with the piercings decorating your nipples. He couldn't lie to himself, it was the most beautiful pair of boobs he has ever seen, and he was intrigued.

He didn't let things get awkward between them, still making jokes and talking normally to her, the words "she's still your best friend" repeating in his mind like a mantra.

Fortunately, Chris didn't mention what happened, which could be a good, but also bad thing.

If he wasn't talking about it now, means he's going to trap Matt into talking later, and Matt didn't really wanted to share details on how you looked. One because he respects you, two because he knows that if he speaks his brother might wanna take a look too and he's not infatuated about the idea of Chris also being able to see them, three because he knows you for months and you never seemed to care about this stuff, at least you didn't seem to care whenever you were around them, probably because you trusted them, and he didn't want to lose your trust. Or you.

The not so healthy dinner got to an end and you were all on your way back to their house.

You were never picky when it was time to choose whose room you were going to crash in, always leaving it to the boys to decide. And Matt was quick to ask you to stay in his tonight.

Half of his mind scared of Chris asking you to stay with him, the other half scared of sharing a bed with you after what happened. And the thoughts that would go through Chris's mind, considering he knows what happened too, only makes it worse.

But you accepted it. And you didn't really mind, you love all three of them and already did shared a bed with all of them anyways.

You all say your goodnights, Nick's climbing the stairs to his room to edit a video that should be out tomorrow, Chris hugging you with a smirk that only Matt could see, making sure to kiss your cheek and yell "don't make too much noise, kids!" before disappearing.

Matt rolls his eyes at his brother's tease, pulling you by the hand with him to his room.

First it wasn't so different from all the times you've spend with him in his room. You've talked about life, games, songs, a new show you guys were both watching. There was a quick brake to brush your teeths and other night routine things, and you were now both back on his bed.

You were sitting cross-legged on the left side of his bed, plugging the charge to your phone, and he was sitting with his legs spread, mindlessly scrolling through his tiktok. The silence was comfortable, and you take a deep tired breath before letting yourself rest your head on his shoulder and watch some videos with him.

(end of 3rd person)

-Feeling sleepy yet? -He asks, with a cute smile, looking down at me and locking his screen, placing his phone on his nightstand.

-Just a bit. -I smile back, sitting upright and covering my legs with the blanket.

He lays beside me, gesturing me to do the same, so I do, and now we're both sideways facing each other.

(3rd person again)

Matt couldn't shake his thoughts away. Even now, after knowing it was possible to just act friendly and pretend nothing happened, something inside him almost screamed. It was like a gigantic need that he was battling against, the urge to just ask her to see them again. To see those, unfortunately for him, perfect boobs once more. As friends, of course. He wouldn't do anything, just stare.

He didn't say anything, how could he? But the way his eyes looked at her, so confused yet intrigued. She knows him well, something was going on in his mind and she could tell.

-What's up? -She asks, placing one hand under her head, looking at him intently.

-Nothing. -He lies, smiling, trying to forget his own mind.

But he couldn't fool her.

-You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. -She's quick to announce, gently pressing her free hand on his arm to comfort him.

She didn't want him to feel pressured or like he needed to say what was bothering him if he didn't want to share.

There's a moment when he tries to make it all seem like he was just tired, turning on the tv and off the lights. The background noise and illumination making his heart beat faster, he knows he can't just simply ignore everything, or ignore her. So, when they were almost about to just go to sleep and not even speak about it, he sighs.

-Are you sure you didn't mind what happened? I feel guilty. -He finally speaks his mind, making her head turn to look at him with a small assuring smile.

-I don't mind at all, Matt, you don't need to feel guilty, it wasn't your intention, I get it. And I mean, it was just some boobs, you probably saw lots of them throughout your life. -She shrugs, really seeming like she didn't care.

It only fuels his courage to get more into it.

-Not that many, but with piercings was a first. -He decides to keep the mood light, just on top of the friendly barrier.

-And what did you think? -She asks, with a playful smirk, finding it amusing how he was slowly starting to feel more comfortable to talk about it.

Of course she wanted to talk things through, but didn't want to be the first mentioning it.

-Looks hot. -He shrugs, like it was oh so easy for him to let these words come out his mouth.

The sound of her laughter makes him even more confident, it shows him that yes it's okay for them to talk about it, and even to make some flirtatious comments. It was almost like he forgot they're close friends with all the embarrassment from earlier.

-Well, I appreciate it. It must look good if it hurts so bad to do it. -She carelessly shove her hand under her long t-shirt, cupping one of her boobs to feel the jewelry there.

His eyes follow her hand, and for a second he wishes it was his hand there instead. It was like he couldn't stop those unfriendly thoughs. Even knowing they're just friends and he shouldn't see her like that, it was hard not to.

-When did you get them? -His question was somehow innocent, he wanted to keep the conversation going.

-Almost a year ago I guess. -She starts playing with the jewelry, moving it side to side, Matt's eyes following it, containing his body from shoving her hand away and doing it himself.

-Does it hurt when you move it? -He lifts his eyes to hers, making sure he wasn't being caught staring at her boobs.

-Nah, nothing hurts anymore, it's all good. At first it was weird, and honestly I think it's all about looks, from all I've heard it doesn't taste the best. But I mean, it does probably taste like metal, what the fuck do anyone expect?

She rambles, giggling after her small vent, her eyes finding Matt's. He had a tiny smirk on his lips, and a know-it-all face like he was about to say she just said the most obvious thing ever. But he doesn't. Instead, he decides to taste the water.

-I mean, probably yeah, but I wouldn't mind the metal taste.

His words caught her by surprise, her eyes widening just the slightest bit.

-Oh, really?

He was scared of crossing the limits. But she was also giving him open doors to flirt with her. Matt was trying to keep things slow and friendly, with a little bit of flirting, but he wasn't exactly prepared to see where things would go from here. Although, he wouldn't and couldn't stop himself. Not now, when his dick is already starting to grow hard.

His only response was to look at her with a shrug, his way of confirming it without seeming so desperate.

-Well, alright, I mean, if you ever wanna try it...

She doesn't waste any time giving him one more extremely open door, a fucking gigantic wall of opportunity. She also made it look like it wasn't a big deal, but she was clearly offering him to change things in their friendship. And he would be insanely crazy to turn it down.

-Just to know if I like it, right? -Matt smirks grow, and the way she bites her lips and nods is all he needs to cross that line.

(end of 3rd person)

Matt moves his hand to the side of my body, pulling me closer. He keeps us just mere inches apart, our breathing mixing together. He keeps his eyes on mine, his hand gently caressing my waist, before slowly lowering it to the hem of my t-shirt.

We were almost having a telepathic conversation, his eyes asking for permission and a quick nod of my head encouraging him to slide his fingers under my shirt. The coldness of his fingertips contrasting with my warm skin makes me fold my lips to prevent myself from sighning loudly.

He starts to slowly explore my skin, his fingers curiously roaming around the new territory. Matt finally makes his move by slightly brushing his fingertip on my nipple. He feels the cold jewelry, how hard my nipples were, how the piercing could easily slide side to side.

I had to close my eyes when his gaze felt too intense and I let myself sigh when I feel his hand squeezing my breasts. It only makes it easier for him to keep it going and feel free to do more.

Matt quickly take control and push me backwards on the bed, hovering over me, keeping him up by his forearm next to my face while his other hand keeps squeezing and playing with my boobs.

I open my eyes to see him in a position I've never seen before. One of my best friends on top of me, squeezing my boobs. He notices my gaze and smiles, leaning down to press gentle kisses on my neck.

It was hard to keep the loud sighs from leaving, my head immediately tilting to give him more access. It didn't take long until he was lifting my t-shirt up my chest and attacking my nipples with his mouth, a loud surprised gasp escaping my lips.

He swirled his tongue around my nipple, licked it and sucked it lightly. My hand goes to his hair, pulling him closer as I throw my head back with eyes closed and lips parted.

He keeps the assault on my nipples, leaving red and purple marks on the valley of my boobs. Matt was clearly taking his time, enjoying it. He uses his fingers to pinch my right nipple while he kitty licked the other one, eliciting a low moan from my lips.

His lips keeps pleasuring me, making me look down at him when he starts to lower his kisses to the hem of my sweatpants. I prop myself on my elbows, not knowing what to say after all that, but he doesn't wait for me, slowly slipping my pants down my ankles, giving me time to stop him if I wanted to. But I didn't.

Matt starts kissing my thighs, my breathing getting heavier with each kiss. He leaves open mouth kisses on my inner thighs, his fingers sliding under the sides of my panties, gently pushing them down.

-Fuck, you're so beautiful.

His voice was low and hoarse, making me immediately clench around nothing and bite my lips. He leans his head enough to be in the middle of my thighs, and his tongue licks a stripe from my entrance to my clit, a shaky moan escaping my lips.

I let myself lay backwards again, one of my hands gripping the sheets and the other finding it's way back to his hair.

Matt eats me out like a starved men, moving his head and feeling every single detail and spot of my pussy with his tongue. His hands are on each of my thighs, keeping me still for him. Just the sight of him in between my legs, eating me out, was enough to make me wetter.

He for sure knows what he's doing.

My moans get louder, and I can't even stop them from coming when he's this good. He tongue fucks me, sliding one of his hands down my stomach and pushing my skin up with his thumb to kitty lick my clit.

-Matt, fuck, keep going. -I moan, my eyes rolling back.

I can feel his smirk when he moves his hand under his chin and slide one finger in, continuing his movements. My knuckles are white gripping the sheets, the tug on his hair tightened and I pull him even closer, my hips bucking and rolling against his face.

-Shit, Matt! -I moan his name loudly when I feel the familiar knot on my stomach starting to form.

He increases his pace, determined to make me finish, and with my persistent moans it was easy to see that I was close. It doesn't take long for the knot to snap and I release all over his face, my juices dripping down his chin.

He rides out my orgasm, pulling his face away and looking up at me before pushing his finger out. He licks his finger clean and hovers over me again, my chest rising and falling rapidly and my half lidded eyes meeting his.

He smiles, wiping my juices out his chin with the top of his hand, his eyes looking down to my lips. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. I could feel my own taste on his tongue.

My hands are quick to lift his shirt, the fabric soon discarded with my own clothes on the floor. Feeling his skin so close to mine was so different, yet so good. His pants were next on the floor and my hand was fast to palm his bulge. He was big, I could feel it over his boxers, it would be painful to fit.

When we were both fully naked, I let myself stare down his body. His lips curved into a smile, his hand stroking his shaft a few times before teasing my folds with his tip.

-Are you sure? -He asks, in a low voice, not stopping the teasing for a second.

-A hundred percent sure. -I nod, feeling him slide his tip in.

I gasp in pleasure and surprise, my eyes closing to focus on adjusting when he pushs all of him at once.

-Fuck, so tight. -He whispers, burying his head on my shoulder.

-Tell me when to move. -Matt's voice is quiet, like he was battling not to thrust unless I was comfortable enough.

I take my time to adjust, shifting under him to find the best position. When I finally feel ready, I give him the permission to move and he does. And god it feels so good.

He begins to bite a few hickeys on my neck, one of his arms keeping him up and the other pulling my leg up to thrust deeper. His hand was on my thigh, keeping my leg up, and my hands were leaving bruises on his back.

His thrusts were fast and deep, hitting all the right places. He pulls away from my neck just to kiss me again, a slow and sloppy kiss that didn't match the pace of his thrusts, but made everything feel better.

-Touch yourself, sweetheart. -He orders, still with his lips against mine.

My heart skips a beat with how hot it was to hear him saying that, and I easily comply, moving one hand to rub circles on my clit.

My moans are swallowed by his kiss, the sensitivity and intensity of the situation making another orgasm build up my stomach.

-Matt, fuck, I... -I cut the kiss to warn him, his eyes finding mine.

-Go on, cum all over my cock for me.

His dirty words were enough to make me climax once more. A loud moan of his name hanging from my lips, encouraging Matt to fuck me harder and faster to ride my orgasm and reach his own.

-Fuck, where do you want me? -He asks, his voice desperate and shaky.

-In me. -I whisper, immediately feeling his hot seed filling me up.

Our foreheads were together, both of us catching our breaths. He slowly pulls out and collapses on the bed beside me. I whine when I feel our mixed cums dripping down my shaky legs.

-I'll get us cleaned. -He announced, standing and reaching for a towel.

He cleaned himself, then cleaned me up and helped me wear my clothes again, pressing a quick kiss on my forehead.

-Do you need anything? Water? Need to pee? -He asks, looking at me with attention, and I smile with the way he was so caring.

-I'll go pee, can you get us some water in the meantime?

He nods and we do exactly what we said. It's just when we lay down together again that I realize what we just did. Matt looks at me quietly, pushing a strand of hair out off my face and behind my ear.

-Matt... -I call his attention, witch he immediately granted.

-Yes, sweetheart?

-We fucked. -I tilt my head a bit, confused with my own choice of words, but he only laughed and nodded.

-Yeah, we did. -His hand slide down my waist, pulling me closer to him.

-And... uh, now what?

I went straight to the point, although my words weren't exactly good to show what I was implying. It would be okay if he said it was just it and we're just friends, but I kind of didn't want it to be just an one time thing.

-I don't know.

He also seemed confused, not sure where this would lead us.

-Are we just going to ignore it and pretend it didn't happen, or we're going to acknowledge it but keep things friendly from now on, or we'll be able to do it again someday?

I ask, and he smiles cutely, pressing a quick peck on my lips.

-I don't want to just ignore it. I'm not sure if I'll be able to keep things friendly after that, only if that's what you want, but if your willing to I'd rather continuing fucking you sometimes.

He laughs, and I couldn't help but giggle too.

-You're an idiot. But, yeah, I'd actually like that.

-Oh, so you want me to keep fucking you. -He smirks, squeezing my waist, and I laugh at him.

-Shut up, Matt. Only sometimes. -I roll my eyes, and he pulls me into another kiss.

-I'm good with that.

a/n: omg this is TERRIFYING how do you guys post this kind of stuff so normally 😭 it was fun to write but it's so scary to post, I really hope it's at least understandable lol

[s4pphicghost]

doing ellies eyeliner ⋆｡˚ ❀

first post !! hope you guys will like it <3 (im sorry for mistakes, english is not my first language) feel free to correct me/give advice!!

!! palestine links !! & !! daily click to help !!

〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰〰

your girlfriend frowned and crossed her arms at your words. "seriously? me and makeup?” she looked at you doubtfully. "yes!!" you cried out happily, “i’d really like to see how eyeliner would look on you.. please, ellie”, you looked at her with a soft, sweet look, trying to mentally convince her. the girl rolled her eyes jokingly. you were so excited by the idea, she just couldn’t upset you with refusal.

“okay..”, she sat on the bed, leaning on her hands and watching in a relaxed position as you rummaged through your makeup bag with enthusiasm. “gonna sit on my lap?” ellie grinned playfully. “only if it makes you more comfortable” you glanced at her and sat on her lap. she wrapped her arms around your waist and looked into your eyes. her touch sent pleasant goosebumps across your skin. you placed your hands on her cheeks and she leaned into your hands… you couldn’t help but smile. “close your eyes and don’t open until i tell you to”

ellie obediently closed her eyes. you spent a few seconds admiring your girl: freckles randomly scattered across her face, cute thick eyebrows and that scar... the features that made her stand out. you stared long enough, she realized what was happening, smiling without opening her eyes. noticing her reaction, you got down to business. you carefully traced the tip of your eyeliner along her lash line, trying not to move too fast. such thick and dark eyelashes, they always impressed you and you loved it. silence filled the room. you were so close to her, you could hear and feel her breath on your hands. the moment felt kind of intimate, it made you slightly nervous. your fingertips gently stroke the girl’s cheeks. she seemed very calm and relaxed, unlike you. ellie frowned when your movements became more confident, her eyelids twitched from your touch out of habit. you accidentally moved your hand with the eyeliner in the wrong direction. “fuck..” you whispered through a dissatisfied sigh and stood up from her. "whats wrong?" the absence of you in ellies hands, even for a few moments, upset the girl.

“you’re twitching too much, the line is crooked..” you returned to her lap with a cotton swab in your hands. she raised her head again. "too ticklish." she said sharply, her voice filled with playful annoyance. you carefully wiped away the crooked line of the eyeliner, trying not to press too hard on her thin skin. “be patient a little longer baby”, you kissed her forehead softly and again did your best trying to draw perfect lines. the girl put her hands back on your waist and squeezed a little, pulling you closer. she smirked in satisfaction, without opening her eyes. you melted under her touch, but you tried to keep your hand strong and make confident movements, even if your hands were a little shaky. after a few minutes of suffering, you got more or less accurate triangles. “open your eyes..” you closed your eyeliner and looked at your girlfriend with admiration. she frowned a little “ugh, this thing tightens the skin..”

you smirked contentedly and placed your hands on her shoulders. “you look so cute.. i knew this shape would suit you.” the girl smiles back at you, happy that you are happy with the result. “you’re such a pro”. “you didn’t even see it!”, you exclaimed, quickly got up from her lap and ran for the mirror. "here.." the girl was slightly surprised by her reflection. “wow.. this is really good,” she said, looking at herself from different angles. the eyeliner really did highlight her eye shape well and the forest green color of her eyes seemed to pop out more. “im surprised i even like it". a smile spread across your face and you began peppering your girlfriend’s face with endless amount of soft, small kisses. she laughed softly, feeling the warmth of your lips that made her blush a bit. her arms are wrapped tightly around your waist.

"what's next? you’re gonna dress me in your evening dress?” she asked jokingly through your nonstop kisses. you paused for a couple of seconds and looked at her. the delight on your face made it clear to ellie that she just made a big mistake. her eyes widened with slight embarrassment. "oh fuck no..."

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i would be really grateful for any feedback!! ty<3

[sunflowerseob]

Candy Curse | Kim Jongseob

You really never know what's in your Halloween candy...

Piwontober Day 28

Prompt: creampie/edging/sexpollen with kim jongseob

🍬 Pairing: bestfriend!kimjongseob x reader

🍬 Word Count: 5.3k

🍬 Genre: Smut, pwp, besties to lovers, fluff

🍬 Rating: 18+

🍬 Warnings: Seob and reader get really competitive playing Mario Kart, explicit language, accidental consumption of aphrodisiac chocolates, looooots of tension, making out, hair pulling, biting, marking, scratching, dirty talk, teasing, explicit sexual content, fingering, multiple orgasms, cum eating, needy!Seob, subby!Seob, hand job, oral (m receiving), deep throating, edging, crying, unprotected sex (pls be safe ‼️), riding, creampie, it ends soft and chaotic bc guess that's my brand 🤩

A/N: Happy Kinktober (again lol) 👻 Sorry about this being a little late, but I hope you still enjoy! This is for day 28 of @kisseobie and @sxfterhearts Piwontober event 🎃 Thank you so much to anyone who has read and supported any of my fics I really appreciate you endlessly 🥹🩵

Also I wanna dedicate this to my fave Seobrangi, and Seob writer, and just writer in general, who's also one of my best friends @strawberry-seob this one is for you bestie ilysm 😘💕 Hope I was able to honor the Seobrangi writer name 🫡

Masterlist

“Ughhh, Seob, enough with the excuses.” you groaned, tossing your controller aside in frustration.

Your friend stared back at you in disbelief, “Wha…they’re not excuses! I told you I can’t concentrate because I’m hungry, and it’s giving you an unfair advantage.”

You wanted to strangle the little shit so bad, but instead you just raised an eyebrow at him.

“The unfair advantage being that I’m just better than you at this, and you’re being a little bitch about it.” you said back matter of factly.

“Because I’m fucking hungry!” Jongseob argued back, throwing a pillow in your direction that you just barely dodged in time.

“Okay, well, you can eat this controller when I shove it down your throat.” you threatened as you got to your feet.

Annnd this was why you and Jongseob weren’t supposed to play Mario Kart together unsupervised anymore.

He completely ignored you, more than used to your competitive and aggressive behavior, as he got up and walked into the kitchen behind the living room.

“Hey,” Seob called a moment later, poking his head back into the room, “Kee left already right?”

“I don’t know why you’re asking me, he’s your roommate.” you grumbled back.

Your friend rolled his eyes before disappearing back into the kitchen. You huffed in irritation before picking up your phone to mindlessly scroll through your different social feeds. Jongseob strolled back into the room, a giant pumpkin shaped bowl in his hands. You noticed that it was overflowing with Halloween candy. He didn’t bother acknowledging you, just sat down on the floor with his back against the couch and placed the bowl of candy in his lap.

“Isn’t Kee gonna be mad if you eat that? He told me he spent a fortune on candy this year since we always run out.”

Jongseob once again offered no response, instead he just unwrapped a piece of candy and popped it into his mouth. He chewed for several seconds before swallowing, and then turned to you with a smirk. What the fuck?

“That’s okay, I’m just gonna tell him you’re the one who ate our candy.” he voiced smugly as he opened another piece.

“Why the fuck are you like this?”

He gave a quick shrug, “I guess because you bring it out in me.”

“Oh, right, because everything is somehow magically my fault today. Sorry I forgot.” you quipped back.

Jongseob chuckled and you felt like punching him.

“Hey, you said it, not me.”

You lunged for him, making him scream before he ducked out of the way. You might’ve missed him, but you were still able to snag a few candies from the bowl.

“Fuck it, I’ll reimburse him later.” you muttered before eating one of the chocolates in your hand.

“We’re playing another cup after this. Now that I have a fair chance.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes this time, “Whatever, Seob.”

The two of you sat there eating the Halloween candy in silence. You reached for the last piece in your hand, and just stared at the wrapping for a minute. You had never seen this kind of candy before. The packaging was weirdly fancy and deep maroon in color.

“What the hell is this?” you asked aloud, attracting Jongseob’s attention.

He looked up from his spot on the floor and observed the candy in your hand, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“I don’t know. Something that Keeho bought. It was in kind of a smaller bag so it must be expensive, whatever it is.” was the only explanation your friend offered.

“He would buy some bougie ass Halloween candy.” you remarked, earning a laugh from Jongseob.

You smiled at the slight shift in the mood. Yes, you drove each other crazy a lot of the time, but Jongseob was still one of your best friends. You loved to give him shit since he was younger than you, but you also felt a strange sense of protectiveness towards him at the same time. Your typical love/hate bestie relationship really.

When you opened the wrapping, the chocolate inside looked like any other store brand candy. The only noticeable difference was some kind of insignia on the dark square itself. You only hesitated briefly before slipping the candy into your mouth. When you bit down, the taste that exploded across your tongue was unreal. A moan slipped past your lips, completely out of your control. Jongseob jolted like he’d been shocked, and you quickly slapped a hand over your mouth.

“Dude what the fuck?!” he exclaimed, and it was impossible to miss the blush dusting his cheeks.

Your own face felt hot as you tried to defend yourself, “S-Stop making it weird! The chocolate is just really good okay. T-Try it for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

“Y/N…that was so sus.” Jongseob went on, his dark eyes squinted and calculated as they focused on you.

Well fuck, you were never going to live this down. But then he was reaching back into the bowl to dig out a chocolate for himself. His fingers slowly opened the maroon wrapping to reveal the chocolate inside. You scooted closer, eager to see what his reaction would be to the strange candy.

“Could you be any creepier about this right now?”

“Just shut up and eat it.” you griped back at him.

“It’s literally just chocolate,” Jongseob started as the treat disappeared inside his mouth, “I don’t see what the big deal is- Oh my goddddddd.”

Hearing him groan out in pleasure did something strange to your insides. What the fuck was in that chocolate?

“I fucking told you!” you piped up, hoping and praying that you weren’t blushing the same way he had been moments earlier.

“I can’t believe Kee bought this for trick or treaters. Kids don’t deserve this shit.”

“You’re right, they don’t.” you agreed simply before leaning down to yank the bowl away from him.

“Hey!” Seob shouted as he angrily got to his feet.

“You snooze you lose, Seobie.” you mocked, snatching another mystery chocolate from the pumpkin and popping it into your mouth.

You hummed as it melted on your tongue, “Respectfully, I want to fuck this chocolate.”

Jongseob made a sudden grab for the bowl, and you were too distracted by the bliss your taste buds were experiencing to react in time. You jumped up from the couch, but your friend was already backing away and holding the candy out of reach.

“Look, you already ate two. Keeho is definitely gonna be suspicious if we eat too many, and I don’t even wanna think about how much it would cost if we had to reimburse him… So, I’m gonna eat one more, and then we’re even okay?”

Normally, it absolutely would not have been okay, but you were feeling oddly relaxed all of a sudden. You found yourself giving in and nodding in agreement. Jongseob stared back at you in surprise, “Wait, really? That’s it?”

“Yeah, well, you’ve annoyed me so much today that now I’m just drained.” you said before plopping back down on the couch.

He glared at you, saying nothing as he ate another chocolate. This time, you actually saw a shiver run through him, and that weird feeling from earlier resurfaced. He carried the bowl back into the kitchen, probably to get rid of the temptation. When he emerged a minute later, something about his demeanor had shifted. He seemed lighter, maybe?

“You too drained to let me smoke your ass on the track?” Jongseob challenged.

He was smiling at you, little crooked canine poking out of his mouth. A feature you knew he had but had never really noticed until now. Huh. It was kinda cute. Just like a little. And since when was his hair so fluffy. And when did he start wearing such tight shirts. And when-

“So, uh, are we racing or what?”

Thank god he had chosen then to interrupt your insanity spiral. You really needed to get your shit together. This was Jongseob for fuck’s sake. It was Jongseob…

You nearly jumped out of your skin when you registered a hand on your forehead, your friend coming into focus in front of you. How had you never noticed the smattering of freckles on his nose and cheeks. Also the little stud in his nose looked really good on him. A little too good.. You took in his soft features, lingering just a moment too long on his lips. Jongseob laughed at your spacey behavior, making your heart do something terrifying in your chest, “You feeling okay? You’re not just trying to make me feel bad and go easy on you right?”

You mentally slapped yourself across the face as you forced yourself to snap out of it.

“Even if you did, I guarantee you still wouldn’t beat me.” you replied, falling back into your much more familiar and comfortable dynamic.

His hand dropped from your forehead. Definitely much safer.

“Only one way to find out.” Seob voiced, and you saw something truly devious in his dark eyes. 

You easily beat him on the first couple of tracks, but then you started to get really distracted. The distraction being your best friend sitting on the floor five feet away from you. He had this habit of sticking his tongue out the tiniest bit when he was concentrating, and you kept seeing him doing it out of the corner of your eye. God. You really needed to stop looking at his tongue. And his lips. And just him in general.

At some point, during all your staring, he had taken the opportunity to pass you and pull ahead to first place.

“Yes! Whoo!” he yelled in excitement, throwing his head back.

Warm affection washed over you. What the fuck was happening?

You fully locked in for the last course, and it was close, but you still ended up crossing the finish before him.

“Better luck next time, Seobie.” you teased, leaning over to ruffle his hair.

Holy shit. Had he always had such soft hair. Now that you thought about it, his newly dyed two toned locks really did suit him… Jongseob shrugged your hand off before whirling around to face you, “That last one didn’t count! My bangs were falling in my eyes so I couldn’t see. We gotta play one more.”

“Your bangs made you lose? Are you shitting me right now?”

He pouted back at you and pointed at the pieces of hair curtaining his forehead. Was it a bullshit excuse? Well, yes. But were you struggling with how cute he was being right now? Also yes.

“Fine, you baby. We’ll have one final rematch. But first, come here.”

Jongseob’s expression immediately showed his suspicion, and you couldn’t say you blamed him.

“Yeah, uh, no. You’re gonna hit me or something.”

You sighed in frustration, “Oh my god, I’m not gonna hit you. Seob, just come here.”

He gave you one last apprehensive look before coming to sit in between your legs hanging off the couch. Your heart knocked against your rib cage. You were hyper aware of his face being right next to your bare thighs. You could’ve sworn Jongseob had noticed it too based on the way his cheeks tinted pink. His body went rigid as he forced himself to face straight towards the TV.

You pulled your hair tie off your wrist, cursing yourself for the way your hands were shaking as you gripped some of his wavy locks. The way Seob’s breath hitched rang out loudly in the living room.

“Wait, what are you-”

“This way you can’t use the bangs excuse anymore.” you answered, cutting him off.

There was an almost tangible shift in the air. You found yourself so tuned into Jongseob’s breathing, noting each inhale and exhale while you gathered his hair to pull it back into a small ponytail. You gave a final tug, harder than you had meant to, and the man in between your legs let out a soft moan. Fucking hell. Why did he sound like that.

“Seob, did you just…” you trailed off, not able to say the words.

“NO SHUT UP!” he yelled defensively before jerking from your touch and burying his head in his knees.

Wordlessly, you maneuvered around him to get to your feet. He continued hiding his face, refusing to look at you. You frowned, turning away to walk into the kitchen. You were convinced there had been something in those chocolates, and you needed to know just what that was. Your heart was racing slightly as you approached the kitchen trash. You flipped the lid and peered inside. There were multiple empty candy bags, but it wasn’t hard to find the maroon bag that matched the chocolate’s packaging.

The bag was torn where Jongseob had opened it, but thankfully the writing on it was still legible. Your eyes flitted over the words, dread settling in your stomach. Enhanced and heightened pleasure. Aphrodisiac. Sex chocolate.

OH SHIT.

When you stepped back out into the living room with the bag in hand, Seob still hadn’t moved from his spot. You sat down on the couch, and he barely registered your presence.

“Seob, I need you to listen to me okay?”

You were panicked, but you made sure to keep your voice gentle. He slowly turned his head so that his face peeked out, and he was so flushed. At least now you understood why.

“What the hell is wrong with us?” he groaned.

Rather than trying to explain, you just held the bag out to him. Jongseob tentatively took it from your hand, his eyes scanning the packaging. He turned even redder as he came to the same realization as you.

“Holy shit.” he whispered, looking back and forth between the bag and you.

“I know. What the fuck was Kee thinking putting this in with the Halloween candy?” you asked in disbelief.

“He, uh, didn’t.” came Seob’s mumbled response.

“What?”

He flashed you a sheepish grin, and you felt the urge to hit him coming back.

“Seob. You didn’t.”

“It was with the other bags of Halloween candy, so I just dumped everything in. I had no idea they were his sex chocolates, I swear.”

He was talking with his hands to emphasize, which let you know he was just as distressed as you were.

“Maybe they don’t even work. Maybe we’re worrying for nothing.” you interjected, but you knew your words would fall flat.

Jongseob gave you a look that told you as much, “They definitely work.”

You knew he was right but you decided to ask anyway.

“What makes you think that?”

“Well for starters, you keep staring at me.”

Your face instantly warmed, and you tried to laugh it off.

“No, I don’t.” you argued, making him raise an eyebrow at you.

“Yes, you do.”

“Okay, well, you’re the one who moaned.”

“What makes you so sure I can’t get you to do the same?”

You choked on air, your cheeks burning furiously.

“S-Seob stop. T-That’s not funny.”

“You’re right, it’s not. But it’s all I can think about right now. And, I bet, I’m not the only one.”

He was smirking at you now, and the confusing feelings you had been experiencing traveled lower to settle in your core.

“Are you fucking insane? Seob, we’re friends. We don’t like each other like that.”

Even as the words left your lips, you found you really weren’t so sure anymore.

“See, I thought so too,” Jongseob said, getting to his feet so that he was now standing in between your legs, “but the things I’m thinking about you right now definitely aren’t friendly.”

You gasped softly, you had never seen this man be so forward the entire time you had known him. How in the hell had you gone from killing each other over Mario Kart to this? The scariest part was that the more the two of you played into whatever was happening, the less wrong it felt. You decided to try playing back, just to see if he was really serious.

“And what kind of things are you thinking about me right now?”

You never should’ve called his bluff because the next thing you knew, he was leaning down and caging you in on the couch with his arms on either side of your head. Your heart suddenly felt like it was going to beat out of your chest.

“Things like how bad I want to kiss you. And wondering if you would let me.”

His eyes kept drifting to your lips as he said it, and it was really starting to consume you. Just how bad you wanted him right now.

“And if I said I would?” you pressed before you could think better of it.

Jongseob’s eyes dilated slightly, and you squirmed back and forth on the couch. You felt his fingers on your chin, holding you still as he looked down at you, “I want to hear you say that you want me to.”

A shiver ran through your body, and Seob’s smug grin let you know he’d noticed it too.

“Just to be clear, it’s because of the candy. And if we do this, we never speak of it again.” you stated, trying to hold onto your last shred of control.

“Yeah, okay, I’m good with that. Now, say it.”

That last shred slipped through your fingers.

“Seob, kiss me.”

The moment his lips descended on yours, it became startlingly apparent. It was not just because of the candy. 

He groaned softly as his hands came up to cradle your cheeks, one of his knees slotting in between your legs. Your hands fisted into his dark gray tank, tugging him closer. Jongseob slid a hand underneath your back before repositioning you so that you were laying across the couch with him falling on top of you. The kiss grew more heated, and you opened your mouth up to him. His tongue licked into your mouth hungrily, and your fingers got lost in his two toned waves. His hands were all over you. Brushing your neck, gripping your thighs, sneaking under your shirt. It was too much and not nearly enough all at the same time.

You nipped at his bottom lip, and were rewarded with your new favorite sound. Jongseob moaning.

“Fuck. You sound so hot when you do that.” you told him in between kisses.

He smiled against your mouth, his canine poking into your lip.

“I thought that too. Except, I wanted it to be because of me and not the chocolate.” he said before mouthing along your jaw.

You sighed, your nails scraping against his scalp. His teeth grazed your neck, his tongue soothing the spot immediately after, and you shuddered underneath him. Jongseob’s hands disappeared under your shirt, fingers splayed out over your stomach.

“Can I touch you? Please.”

His plea was murmured against your skin as he sucked more color into the flesh.

“Yes.” you replied with no hesitation, your voice raspy.

You could feel him smirking into your neck, and something about it drove you crazy. His fingers inched higher, searing across your torso. Jongseob’s lips found yours once more, and you panted into his mouth while his hands slid around to your back to unclasp your bra. You sat up briefly, Seob still chasing your mouth as you slid the garment down your shoulders and out from under your shirt. The moment you laid back down, his greedy fingers were slipping back under the material to palm at your breasts.

“Fuck,” he hissed, thumb stroking over your nipple, “you’re so soft.”

You arched into his touch, “Seob.”

He groaned at your response, and then his fluffy head was disappearing underneath your shirt. You moaned obscenely the moment he took your perked bud into the warmth of his mouth. He poked his head back out, sporting an absolute shit eating grin.

“Told you.” 

You shook your head, laughing slightly.

“God, you’re so annoying.”

“Mmm, yeah. And you know what, I’m not nearly done annoying you yet. Not even close.” he voiced wickedly before diving back under your shirt.

His tongue flicked over your same nipple, his fingers twisting and pinching your neglected one. You writhed underneath him, feeling something hard brush against your inner thigh. The realization that you had been the one to do that to him left you feeling dizzy.

“You’re so hot, Y/N. Shit.” 

Jongseob’s voice was nearly unrecognizable, his words coming out low and rough. You could feel his lips leaving various marks all over your tits. It would be kinda hard to pretend like this never happened with reminders of him all over your body. But right now he was making you feel such immense pleasure that you really couldn’t be bothered to worry about it too much. 

Seob’s hands were on the move again, sliding down your stomach and teasing at the top of your shorts.

“I bet you’re so wet right now.”

“Shut up.” you shot back, your face on fire.

Jongseob resurfaced from under your shirt, and you clenched around nothing at the sight of his swollen lips. Somehow his little ponytail was still intact, but the rest of his hair was a complete mess. His dark eyes were blown out with lust as they trailed down your body. He ran a finger along the top of your panties that were poking out of your shorts, “You gonna let me find out? Just how soaked you are right now.” 

“Remember, it’s the candy. Don’t let it go to your head, Seobie.” you reminded him, knowing you were lying through your fucking teeth.

“Sure it is.” he said, rolling his eyes before slipping his fingers inside your panties. 

You jerked below him as soon as his digits came into contact with your slick folds.

“Shit. You are fucking drenched.” he hissed, his fingers circling around your clit and making you gasp.

Jongseob was intensely focused on your face as he easily slid a finger inside you. He slowly pumped the digit in and out, turning you into a panting mess underneath him. 

“God. Can’t believe you feel this good just around my fingers.”

“Seob.” you whined, and he responded by adding a second finger.

“Gonna make you come. Because if this is the only time we’re doing this, then I’m gonna make sure it’s something you remember.”

His fingers sinfully crooked inside you, and your back lifted off the couch. You buried your face in his arm as the band inside you wound tighter and tighter. He leaned down, his lips right by your ear, “I know I’m gonna have a hard time forgetting about this. Just how good your cunt feels.”

He was up to three fingers now, while his thumb strummed across your clit, and you clenched tight around his digits.

“Seob, fuck!” you cried out, your orgasm knocking the wind out of you.

Jongseob swore as you soaked his fingers, continuing to fuck you through your high, and peppering kisses along your neck. His fingers were coated in you when he finally pulled them out of your panties. You noticed the way his cock twitched in his dark jeans at the sight. He looked like a man possessed as he pushed the fingers into his mouth, moaning while he sucked them clean. It was the hottest thing you had ever seen. Definitely would not be forgetting that visual anytime soon.

“Jongseob, what the fuck?” you groaned, overwhelmed by all the different sensations. 

He held your eyes as his lips pulled off his fingers with a wet pop, and you nearly came again.

“Fuck, you’re so sweet. Even better than the candy.”

The only way to describe how you were feeling in that moment was feral. Absolutely fucking feral. Which led to you tackling Jongseob, making him let out a little scream as you pinned him underneath you on the couch. You crashed your lips against his, swallowing whatever he was gonna say. 

“My turn.” you said against his mouth, one of your hands reaching down to palm him over his jeans.

“Fuck. Please.”

The needy edge in his voice was absolutely delicious. You continued kissing him lazily, Jongseob desperately licking into your mouth. You undid his jeans before dipping your hand into his boxers to wrap around his erection. He released a shaky breath that turned into a moan as you stroked him leisurely. Your thumb smeared the pre cum leaking from his tip, “So messy, Seobie.”

The man under you whimpered, his hips bucking up to fuck your fist. You broke away from his lips so that you could watch him while you touched him. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and he tossed his head from side to side as you continued pumping him.

“What do you want, Seobie? You want me to suck you off?” you teased, running your tongue along his neck.

Jongseob practically convulsed underneath you, and you were loving how he was submitting to you right now.

“Please,” he gasped, “need your mouth.”

You hummed as you pulled him out of his boxers, his cock springing up against his stomach. You moved down his body before licking a stripe along the underside.

“Fucking shit.” Jongseob hissed, his fingers digging harshly into the couch. 

You chuckled, “And so sensitive too.”

You slowly began taking him into your mouth, and he let out a moan that was borderline pornographic. The further you went, the more he squirmed and panted underneath you. You pulled off of him suddenly, and Jongseob whined at the loss of your mouth. You returned to working him with your hand instead.

“You’re so fun to play with, Seobie. Gonna make the most of it if this is the only chance we get.”

“Please. Wanna come.” he begged, sounding breathless.

You dropped your hand, and Jongseob cried out when you took him as far down your throat as you could manage. 

“Your mouth, fuck. Feels too good.”

You hummed around him, and his cock twitched in your mouth. You would speed up, get him right to the edge, and then slow back down again. 

“So mean, Y/N. I need to come, please.”

You replaced your mouth with your hand again, “Awww Seobie, but don’t you wanna fuck me?”

He bolted upright so fast that it actually made you jump.

“Are you being serious?”

You stroked him faster, relishing the way his eyes started to roll back.

“If you wanna fuck me, then you can’t come.”

Jongseob looked close to tears as he pouted at you.

“Why are you like this?” he groaned, and you slowed your pace down again.

“I guess because you bring it out in me.” you said, mocking him from earlier before wrapping your lips around his tip again.

“Fuuuuuuuck.”

This time, your mouth and hands worked in tandem, and when you looked up at Jongseob, a handful of tears were trailing down his cheeks. His cock was practically spasming in your mouth, and you knew he wouldn’t be able to hold out much longer. You let him fall from your lips with a pop.

“You wanna fill me up, Seobie? Fuck me full of your cum?”

“Please.” he wheezed as more tears ran down his face, “Need to fuck you.”

You needed it too. So bad you could hardly stand it. You stepped back from the couch to slip your shirt over your head and slide your shorts and panties down your legs. Jongseob weakly picked up his head, and his eyes looked ready to pop out as he took in your naked figure. He reached down to push his jeans and boxers out of the way. 

“How do you wanna do this, Seobie?” you asked as you stood over him. 

In a flash of movement, his arms yanked you down to straddle him, making you yelp in surprise.

“Fuck, want you to ride me.”

You raised up to position your entrance over his cock, “Don’t forget, it’s the candy.”

Jongseob settled his hands on your waist, roughly gripping your hips.

“Shut the fuck up, and just sit on my dick already.”

You saluted him, earning a series of giggles in response. You slowly sank down onto him, Seob’s nails leaving crescents in your skin. 

“Fuck, you feel like heaven.”

You were so worked up that you didn’t even bother starting out slow. By the way Jongseob aggressively fucked up into you, you guessed that he didn’t mind. You felt his arms wrap around your back as he moved to sit up, pulling you with him. You braced your arms against the back of the couch, the new angle making you bounce in his lap. Seob mouthed at your breast, his fingers curling against your back as he held you close.

“Fuck…Seob…” you panted out, your head falling back. 

“Can’t, shit, wait to feel you come all over my cock.”

“Please, fill me up, Seobie.”

Jongseob growled, his lips still wrapped around your nipple, but then he was crashing your mouths together. It was all tongue and teeth as his thrusts started to lose their rhythm. You buried your hands in his hair, tugging at the strands. Seob moaned against your lips, and your walls clenched around him.

“Fuck, Y/N.”

His cock twitched inside you, Jongseob shuddering underneath you before you felt him filling you up. You were right behind him, crying out his name as you fell apart. The two of you held onto each other as you tried to catch your breath. When you pulled back to look at him, his canine was poking out in the most endearing way. Your heart swelled, and you leaned forward to gently press your lips to his. You could feel Jongseob smiling into the kiss.

“Soooo, maybe it wasn’t just the candy.” 

“Yeah, no shit.” Seob retorted before pinching your side, sending you into a fit of giggles.

He started full on tickling you, and you shrieked before jumping up from the couch. You felt something drip down your leg as you stood up. You glanced down, and when you looked back up, Jongseob was focused on the mess between your legs. He licked his lips, his eyes trailing back up to your face, and frankly, the man looked like he wanted to eat you.

“Yeah, no way I’m gonna be able to forget that. That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

You were contemplating whether or not to initiate some kind of round two, when you heard the door to the apartment opening. You were pretty sure the fear on Jongseob’s face must have matched your own. You grabbed a throw blanket, quickly throwing it over the two of you as you sat back down on the couch. Seob’s hand found one of yours under the blanket, giving it a squeeze. 

“Seob, did you put my sex chocolate in with the Halloween candy? What the fuck, man.”  Keeho called from the kitchen.

He walked into the living room a moment later, the pumpkin bowl clutched in his hands. He took in you and Seob on the couch, his eyes growing wide.

“Did you guys eat my chocolate?!”

You and Jongseob exchanged sheepish grins. 

“You gotta be fucking kidding me. That’s it, you’re both officially banned from Mario Kart from now until forever. And clean this shit up, you disgusting animals. Oh, and you owe me and Taeyang some new chocolate. Hope you horny little freaks are happy.”

Keeho gave both of you one last look of disappointment before strolling right back out of the apartment. You and Jongseob both busted out laughing as soon as the door closed behind him.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m pretty happy.” he managed to get out in between fits of laughter, canine poking out adorably. 

You clutched his hand that you were still holding, “Yeah, me too.”

[itsagoodluckkiss]

Lost Time

Pairings: Roronoa Zoro x F!Reader

WC: 2K

Warnings: Mutual pining, idiots in love, just pure fluff, no use of Y/N

A/N: Finally coming out from my hole to work on the requests I have neglected for so long. It was a rough couple of months, I'm juggling work, school and the problems that come with existence, so please be kind. English is not my first language, so sorry if this is all over the place at times. This is a request from my lovely @macbethsymphony, I love you so much, beautiful. I combined the two ideas and I really hope you'll at least enjoy it. Also forgive me for not making it suggestive, fluff suited it better I think. 💕

"Hiya 💕 Can I request something? I’m really craving some Zoro fluff 👉👈 I was thinking of something along the lines of kind of an accidental confession? Like the reader accidentally says they find him handsome but quickly and casually brushes it off (out of embarrassment but they’ve got a good poker face) but it sticks in his mind for days. Or maybe something about insomniac alone time in the crows nest? Idk I’ll let you chose what you prefer (if you decide to go for it that is because absolutely no pressure!!!) I’ll also let you decide if you wanna make it suggestive :3 whatever feels best for the story! Anyways love you ✨"

If anyone had said to you two years ago that you’d find your forever family on a pirate ship, you would have laughed at their face. Sometimes, when you lay in your bed at night, you still can’t comprehend the fact that you’re surrounded with such unique and amazing people. Despite the hardships and pain you had endured, you would never exchange the loving bond you had with your friends, each one holding a special place in your heart. But one of those bonds was slightly different.

It was slightly unbelievable how you had hit it off instantly with the swordsman of the crew, ever since they picked you up from your small island town back in the East Blue. Zoro’s your partner in crime, the person closest to you, the one you’d always trust with your hopes and fears. Even in moments of weakness, he was the person who managed to make you get it together. And somehow in return, you had managed to crack through his hard shell, gaining his trust and respect. Υour cheeky and bubbly personality appealing to his nonchalant character, making him smile whenever you were around, whenever you’d spend time together.

In the battlefield, you two were a force to be reckoned with. You always had his back, literally, watching out for enemies’ sneak attacks, him always protecting you when you were down, cutting down on anyone who dared to touch you. And that’s why Zoro never went easy on you during training, always wanting you to give you a challenge so you’d be in your best shape when in need. You appreciated that he never judged you based on gender, but sometimes, you wish he would relax, both for your sake and his.

It was the following days of a particularly rough battle; your bodies were still recovering from the wounds you sustained. You were in the crow’s nest, trying to keep up with his quick moves, the muscles of your legs straining as you deflected his attacks. Honestly, you couldn’t understand how this man could move with those dreaded wounds on him, but here he was, almost kicking you off your feet.

“Don’t lose your focus.”

Your eyes met his as you panted, trying to find your breath, fists raised in the air, sweat running down your forehead. You glanced down his body, your eyes widening when you saw the red streak on the bandages that covered his waist. You relaxed your stance immediately, going towards him to make him sit down the bench.

“Stupid bastard, you reopened your wound!”

“It’s nothing, don’t hover over me, we shouldn’t stop.”

“Shut up and sit still, let me see.”

You unwrapped the bandages around him, flinching when the slash on his ribs was visible to you. You grabbed the first aid kit from across the room. Chopper had insisted there would be one in every room because according to him, he may be a reindeer, but he may not always be able to treat all of you animals simultaneously. You sat beside Zoro on the bench. Disinfecting the wound got you a slight, almost silent hiss from him.

“You’re lucky the stiches haven’t reopened.”

“See? It’s nothing, no need to fuss.”

“You know, I only joined you today because I wanted to stop you eventually. You shouldn’t strain your body like that, Zoro. You should give it time to heal.”

You were careful with your moves, applying the ointment your doctor had made, cleaning the skin around his wound and then got the sweat off his abs before you wrapped fresh bandages around him. You were the only person besides Chopper that Zoro allowed to tend to his wounds. You had to admit that it made you feel special. It also gave you a chance to touch that body that felt like it was sculpted by the gods. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you never starred at him when he wouldn’t look, or how your heart thumped in your chest whenever he was too close. You had come to peace with your feelings of love for the swordsman, and you had come to peace with the fact that you’d never say a word about them. They wouldn’t be reciprocated anyways, so why would you ruin your friendship over them?

Right now, you had him in your arms, and it was enough. Rubbing the tension off his shoulders, his back laying against your chest, sighing in relief. His guard was down when you two were alone, allowing himself some sort of vulnerability, trusting in you to keep that side of him to yourself. His chiseled back, bare and clean from scars, laid in your display. His eyes were closed and you could see with the corner of your eye his facial features slowly relaxing. Your mind was racing, how you wanted to smother that beautiful face of his with kisses. You were smiling to yourself, not realizing you were thinking out loud.

“You’re so handsome…”

Your eyes widened for a second, breath caught in your throat, before you composed yourself as his eyes snap open to look at you, his gaze as stoic as always, not able to read what was going on in his mind.

“What?”

“I mean, you’re too handsome to die from not taking care of yourself. Do better, Roronoa.”

Your mind was reeling, almost short circuiting, but you kept your cool, appearing unbothered by what you just said, although you let go of him almost immediately after. You gathered your things, ready to go die in your room from embarrassment. He rises to his feet, stretching his limbs before grabbing a tower to wipe off the remaining sweat off his forehead.

“I’m gonna go lay down. You should rest too. Promise me you won’t train more today, yes?”

A sigh of annoyance left his mouth. “Okay, I promise you. Happy?”

“Yes. I’ll see you later.”

~

He had to admit, he didn’t expect your compliment. Of course, you had complimented each other’s skills and fighting in the past, but you had never made a comment about his appearance. Zoro pondered over it the next couple of days. He noticed how you had scattered almost immediately after, and even if you didn’t let your emotions take the better of you, he could sense your nervousness after that comment. He was taken aback but didn’t want to make you uncomfortable by mentioning the topic. It also gave him a sense of satisfaction. He had to admit he was happy you thought about him like that. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but the weird feeling that had taken its place in his heart from the first time you joined this crew was growing stronger each passing day.

Zoro had tried to deny his emotions for a long time. But two years apart made him realize there was no point in that. The times he would catch himself thinking about you, missing you in a different way than the rest of the crew. The way his heart clenched when he saw you again. How different, even more beautiful, you were but also how it was like no time had passed when you wrapped your hands around him in glee that you were with him again. It made him see there was no denying the devotion he had for you. Yet, he didn’t want to smother you over it, making you feel awkward for not reciprocating his feelings.

But your compliment made him doubt his decision. He recounted the times he had caught you staring at him, only to turn your head away in embarrassment. Or how you always leaned on him when you were tipsy, giggling against his shoulder. And how he always held you close in those moments. What if you actually felt the same? What if you actually saw him the way he saw you, and you were afraid of the same thing he was. Rejection. Zoro was never the man that cared about people accepting him or not. But it felt different with you. A stupid need wanted you to accept him in a certain way. The way two lovers got together in those novels Robin was reading about in her spare time. Love is a strong word, but he couldn’t find a better one for his feelings.

All these thoughts were swirling in his head as he nursed his bottle of sake while keeping watch in the crow’s nest until he heard the hatch opening. And as if some divine power was watching over him, you came into the room, closing the hatch behind you.

“Knew I’d find you here.”

“I’m keeping watch, so I don’t know where else I could be.”

You both chuckled as you made your way to stand next to him, leaning on the railing.

“Can’t sleep?”

“Something like that, yeah. I’ve been tossing and turning for the past hour.”

Zoro said nothing, instead offering you his bottle. You gingerly took it from his hand, your fingers brushing just for a second. You took a swig, looking out on the open sea. There was a full moon illuminating down on you, and no sound around you except the gentle waves against the hull of your ship. You stayed like that for a while, eyes on the vast ocean around you.

“You ever think about lost time?”

You turn your gaze in surprise when you heard him speak.

“What do you mean?”

“… Things you should have done but were late to do and you wasted time.”

“What are you thinking about?”

Zoro finally looked at you. You couldn’t read the gaze he had in his eyes but the hold he had on you would never allow you to look away.

“That two years have passed without seeing you and I still haven’t said that I thought of you every single day.”

“You… thought of me?”

You felt your heart clenching. Your eyes widen as you stared at him. Did he actually just say that? Zoro was never a man that played with his words, always blunt and straightforward. He scoffed lightheartedly, a small smile on his face at your shocked expression.

“Of course I did. And during that time, I also realized I wasted time wondering what you’d think of me while I could have spent it holding you in my arms.” He took a small pause. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

He turned his gaze to look at the sea once again while your now teary eyes were glued at him, hanging on the words that fell from his mouth, a wide smile forming on your face. It felt like a dream. A dream you regularly had in those two agonizing years you yearned to see him again.

“What are you sorry for?”

His eyes were on you again, reading your expression.

“I-”

“Do you have any idea how many times I wanted to just tell you? How much struggle it took to keep it all down?”

Your bodies were now thoughtlessly closing the distance between you, almost touching. Your hands grasped his shoulders softly while his traveled to your waist to hold you steadily in his chest.

“You should have.”

He leaned slightly, your foreheads touching. His gaze buried into yours, communicating all the feelings that both of you shared. Longing, reluctance, uncertainty and most of all, love.

“I don’t want to waste more time. May I kiss you?”

You gave him a toothy grin, a tear sliding down your face.

“Yes. Please.”

His hand cupped your cheek to wipe the tear away as his lips found yours in a sweet kiss that held no hesitation, all the unspoken words both of you hadn’t spoken in so long pouring into it. His other hand held your waist firmly against him while your lips moved in sync with a passion that couldn’t be described, as the moon shone down on you, the only witness to your link. After a moment you broke the kiss to catch your breath, smiling, his breath falling on your lips as he chuckled breathlessly, foreheads still against each other.

“You’re stuck with me now.”

“Wouldn’t want it any other way, Zoro.”

[seafarersdream]

Scaly Tales | Modern AU! (Aemond Targaryen x Y/N)

Y/N works at her dad’s reptile shop, but only because he’s currently out of town. She, on the other hand, is stuck with snakes, lizards, and things that make her skin crawl. To be clear: she hates reptiles. They terrify her. One day, in strolls Aemond Targaryen — tall, brooding, and way too attractive for someone who’s genuinely interested in a green iguana named Vhagar. Word count: 4,1k

TW // Strong language and profanities, mild innuendos, potentially dangerous animal encounters, alcohol consumption (beer).

“I swear to god, if that thing comes anywhere near me, I'm quitting my own dad's shop.”

Y/N muttered to herself, fingers clutching the edge of the glass counter as if it might somehow protect her from the green menace that stared at her from across the room.

Vhagar, the reptile shop’s resident iguana, was perched regally on her branch like she owned the place. Which, honestly, she probably did. The shop, Scaly Tales, was a low-key nightmare of flicking tongues, beady eyes, and the occasional hiss that sent shivers down her spine. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed with an irritating hum, casting a sickly yellow glow over the rows of terrariums lining the walls.

Y/N tapped her foot impatiently, glancing at the clock. Another five hours until closing. Five hours of trying not to look too closely at the boa constrictor named Smaug or the tarantula in the corner that she swore was plotting her demise.

Just as she was contemplating the merits of accidentally leaving the door unlocked and letting all the reptiles escape into the wild, the bell over the door jingled. She looked up, more out of instinct than interest, and nearly choked on her own breath.

In walked a guy who looked like he’d been carved out of marble and decided to slum it on a random Wednesday afternoon. Tall, lean, with silvery-blonde hair that was braided. He had a scar running down his left cheek that made him look like he’d survived a pirate raid or, at the very least, a really bad skateboarding accident. He was dressed in all black and had a single silver earring shaped like a tiny dragon.

Y/N blinked. Twice.

“Uh, can I help you?” she finally managed, voice higher-pitched than she intended.

The guy glanced around, his one visible eye narrowing as if assessing the situation. “Doubt it,” he muttered, though there was a hint of a smirk on his lips. He had a voice like whiskey over gravel, the kind that made you want to lean in closer just to catch every word.

Y/N scowled. “Right. Well, the exit’s behind you if you’re lost.”

He chuckled, low and throaty. “Nah, not lost. Just… curious.”

“About?” She crossed her arms, feeling the sharp edge of her dad’s old Scaly Tales polo shirt dig into her skin.

He didn’t answer right away, instead, his gaze drifted past her to Vhagar, who was still sitting on her branch, blinking slowly as if she couldn’t give less of a shit about the entire interaction. “That iguana,” the guy finally said, pointing with a finger adorned with silver rings. “What’s its name?”

Y/N’s arched an eyebrow in confusion but answered anyway. “Her name’s Vhagar”

The guy’s smirk grew. “Curious choice.”

“Don’t ask. I wasn’t the one who named her,” she said, drawing out the word.

He took a step closer to the counter, and for a moment, Y/N’s heart did a weird little jump, like it was trying to hop out of her chest. “I was wondering,” he continued, “if you were looking for help around here.”

“Help?” She snorted. “Mate, you do realize this is a reptile shop, right? It’s no Canary Wharf.”

His grin widened, and he leaned against the counter, one hand casually slipping into the pocket of what clearly looks like a bespoke trousers. “Yeah, I got that. I’m not here for the pay. Just… interested.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, suspicion creeping into her voice. “Interested in what exactly? Because, no offense, you don’t look like the type who’s into snakes and lizards.”

He shrugged, a movement that seemed annoyingly graceful. “You got me there. Not into snakes. But I’ve got a thing for iguanas.”

She let out a laugh before she could stop herself. “Of course, you do. Why?”

He tilted his head slightly, considering her with that one piercing blue eye that looks unnervingly purple-ish from some angles. “I like that they’re a bit… prickly. Takes a certain kind of patience to handle them. To make them trust you.”

Y/N felt her cheeks warm, and she was suddenly very aware of the fact that she hadn’t done her hair this morning and was probably wearing yesterday's eyeliner smudges. “Alright, fine,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “You can… I don’t know, volunteer or something. Just don’t get bitten or sue us, yeah?”

He straightened up, looking genuinely pleased for the first time since he walked in. “Deal,” he said, offering his hand.

She eyed his hand like it was a venomous snake. “Name?”

“Aemond,” he replied, his smile turning a little softer, almost boyish. “Aemond Targaryen.”

She stared at him, momentarily stunned by the sheer poshness of it. “Of course, it is.”

He chuckled again. “And you are?”

“Y/N L/N,” she said, shaking his hand reluctantly. His grip was firm, his skin cool against hers. She quickly pulled away, trying not to feel like a teenager meeting their crush for the first time.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he said smoothly. “Now, tell me… how do I win over Vhagar?”

She snorted. “Mate, I’ve been trying to figure that out for weeks. Good luck.”

He glanced back at the iguana, who was still watching them with what could only be described as supreme indifference. “Challenge accepted.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. “Yeah, alright, Mr. Targaryen. Let’s see what you’re made of.”

As it turns out, Aemond was a bloody animal whisperer.

Y/N watched, slack-jawed and barely breathing, as he casually stuck his hand into Smaug’s terrarium — Smaug, the fifteen-foot boa constrictor with a temper that could put any football hooligan to shame. The snake, instead of latching onto Aemond’s arm and turning him into a human-sized chew toy, just… rested its head in his hand like a sodding pet cat.

“Oh, come on,” Y/N muttered under her breath, feeling a mixture of disbelief and, okay, maybe a bit of annoyance. "Seriously?"

Aemond glanced over his shoulder, that ever-present smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Something wrong?" he asked, and there was no mistaking the amusement in his voice.

“Yeah, loads,” she snapped, crossing her arms over her chest. “Starting with the fact that you seem to have some weird Snow White powers over these things.”

He chuckled, a deep, rich sound that somehow made her stomach flip. “It’s not that hard,” he said, still scratching Smaug’s head with his fingers. “You just have to understand them. Respect them.”

Y/N scoffed. “Respect them? Right. And what, exactly, do I need to respect about the tarantula that tried to jump at my face this morning?”

Aemond straightened up, moving away from the terrarium, and headed toward the tarantula’s glass enclosure. “Arachne?” he asked, his tone teasing. “She’s just misunderstood.”

“Misunderstood?” Y/N echoed, incredulous. “Mate, she’s got eight legs and hairy fangs. She’s the stuff of nightmares.”

Aemond turned to face her fully, leaning against the counter with a look that said he was enjoying this far too much. “You don’t really like being here, do you?” he asked, eyes narrowing slightly as if studying her.

Y/N felt a flush creep up her neck. She shifted from one foot to the other. “I’m not here by choice, alright?” she confessed. “My dad owns the shop, and he’s off gallivanting in Glasgow, so I’m stuck running this freak show until he gets back.”

Aemond’s lips curled into a knowing smile. “Ah, so you’re just here to keep the peace?”

“Something like that,” she muttered. “If peace is what you call feeding dead mice to snakes and hoping they don’t escape in the night.”

He laughed again, a real laugh this time, not just a smirk or a chuckle, and Y/N found herself almost… liking the sound of it. “You’ve got nothing to worry about,” he said, a hint of softness in his voice. “They won’t bite unless they’re scared. And they’re only scared if you are.”

She rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s reassuring,” she grumbled, but a small smile tugged at her lips despite herself.

Aemond pushed off the counter and walked slowly towards her, his steps measured and confident. “Tell you what,” he said, lowering his voice slightly, like he was sharing a secret. “I’ll handle the scary ones. You just… look cute behind the counter.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped, and she felt her face go warm. “Oi!” she sputtered. “I am not… cute. I’m the manager here.”

He grinned, clearly delighted with her flustered reaction. “Right, of course. Very professional. Your dad must be proud.”

She gave him a half-hearted glare, but she couldn’t deny that there was something oddly charming about the way he was looking at her, like he found her reaction endlessly entertaining. “You know, I could just kick you out,” she threatened, trying to sound stern.

Aemond leaned in a little closer, a playful glint in his eye. “But then who would deal with Vhagar?” he asked, nodding towards the iguana, who had finally decided to grace them with a slight head tilt.

Y/N sighed, exasperated. “Fine, fine. You can stay,” she grumbled, waving a hand. “But only because Vhagar seems to like you.”

He nodded solemnly. “A wise decision, Ms. Manager.”

She rolled her eyes again but couldn’t help the grin that broke free. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get too comfortable, Prince Charming. This isn’t some Disney movie.”

Aemond flashed her a grin that was all trouble. “Don’t worry, love. I think I can handle a bit of drama.”

Y/N snorted. “Trust me, mate, you have no idea what you’ve signed up for.”

He gave her a mock bow, and she couldn’t help but laugh, a lightness in her chest that she hadn’t felt in ages.

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The next morning, right at 10, just as Y/N was flipping the sign on the door from “Closed” to “Open,” the bell above the door jingled. She looked up, expecting to see some bored teenager or one of the usual reptile enthusiasts, but there he was — Aemond Targaryen, in the flesh.

He strolled in like he owned the place, wearing a crisp white button-up under a dark green wool coat, the kind that probably cost more than her rent. His hair was flowing freely in a way that looked both effortless and like it required some absurdly expensive product. He had an aura about him, like he was about to walk into a high-profile board meeting rather than a slightly dingy reptile shop.

“Morning,” he greeted, flashing that infuriatingly charming grin.

Y/N squinted at him, still half-asleep and clutching her cup of coffee like it was a life raft. “You’re back,” she said flatly, as if she was stating the obvious. Which, of course, she was.

Aemond chuckled. “What, did you think I’d scare off after one day?”

She shrugged, turning back to the counter to hide her smile. “Wouldn’t blame you if you did. Not exactly Westminster around here, is it?”

“Maybe not,” he said, moving closer and glancing around, “but it’s got… character.”

Y/N snorted. “That’s one way to put it.”

He didn’t seem to mind the sarcastic jab. Instead, he started rolling up the sleeves of his pristine white shirt, exposing the tattoos that ran up his forearms — dragons, of course, snaking around his skin in intricate black ink. She found herself staring, just for a second too long, before snapping her eyes back up to his face.

“So,” he said casually, “what’s on the agenda today?”

Y/N shrugged again, taking a sip of her coffee. “Well, first, we’re gonna open up the store, then do all the stuff that involves keeping these creepy crawlies alive. But you—” she pointed a finger at him “—are gonna do the heavy lifting. I’m staying a safe distance away from anything that slithers, hisses, or has more legs than I do.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Sounds fair. I’ll take the snake duty, then.”

And he did. He moved with a surprising ease, lifting crates of feed and handling the cages like he’d been doing it for years. Y/N couldn’t help but be a little impressed. At one point, he was juggling a bag of crickets, a box of frozen mice, and a pail of water all at once.

“How are you not dropping any of that?” she asked, genuinely curious.

He flashed her a toothy grin. “Coordination, darling. Comes with practice.”

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a small grin. He made everything look so annoyingly easy. And he had this way of making even the most mundane tasks seem… well, not fun, but bearable, at least.

After about an hour of this, she leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. “Don’t you have anything better to do?” she asked, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the curiosity in her voice. “I mean, don’t you have a job or something?”

Aemond paused, wiping his hands on a cloth before turning to face her, his expression relaxed. “Nah,” he said with a casual shrug. “Don’t need one.”

Y/N blinked. “What, like, ever?”

He nodded. “Pretty much. My family’s loaded.”

“Loaded,” she repeated, not sure she’d heard him right. “Like, trust fund kid kind of loaded?”

He gave her a lazy smile, his eye glinting with amusement. “Something like that. My family's got more money than sense, if that gives you a clue.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And you’re here, volunteering at a reptile shop, for free?”

He leaned against the counter next to her, a bit closer than was probably necessary, but she didn’t move away. “Yeah. Thought it might be fun. Plus,” he added, lowering his voice conspiratorially, “I find your reactions quite entertaining.”

Y/N felt a blush creep up her neck and cursed herself silently. “Oh, do you now?”

He nodded, his grin widening. “Yeah. Watching you flinch every time Arachne moves is becoming quite the highlight for me.”

She huffed, crossing her arms tighter over her chest. “I’m not flinching. I’m… being cautious. That thing’s got too many legs for comfort.”

He laughed, genuinely amused. “Right, sure. Cautious. Keep telling yourself that, love.”

She glared at him, but there was no real heat in it. “So what do you actually do all day if you’re not… you know, working?”

Aemond shrugged again, as if this was the most normal conversation in the world. “Oh, I read, I go to the gym, I travel… the usual.”

“The usual?” she echoed, incredulous. “Mate, that’s not usual for most people.”

He smiled again, this time with a hint of something softer behind it. “Guess I’m not most people.”

Y/N bit back a laugh. “Clearly.” She turned back to the register, trying to ignore the way her pulse sped up just a bit whenever he looked at her like that. “Alright, posh boy. You want to hang around and be useful, fine by me. But don’t get in my way.”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a playful whisper. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Y/N rolled her eyes again, but she couldn’t stop the smile that crept across her face.

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“Bloody hell, the turtle’s loose!”

Y/N’s shout echoed through the shop just as she was flipping the sign back to “Closed.” She spun around, her heart hammering in her chest, to see Aemond standing a few feet away, holding an empty glass enclosure door in his hand like it was some kind of weird prop.

“And that would be which one?” Aemond asked, his face a mix of concern and — was that amusement?

“Triton!” Y/N hissed, eyes wide as she scanned the floor. “The bloody snapping turtle!”

Aemond blinked, then burst into laughter. “The turtle?” he asked, still laughing. “How fast could it have gotten?”

Y/N shot him a death glare. “Fast enough, apparently! And he bites, remember? Like, really bites!”

As if on cue, a low, angry hiss filled the air. Y/N’s eyes darted toward the sound and spotted Triton, the shop’s resident menace of a snapping turtle, making a surprisingly speedy beeline towards the open door of the shop, his jagged shell scraping against the floor.

“Shit!” Y/N cursed, darting forward instinctively before skidding to a halt. “Okay, no, never mind, I’m not doing this. I’m not getting near that little beast.”

Aemond, still holding the glass door like some absurd shield, grinned. “Come on, it’s just a turtle.”

“Just a turtle?” Y/N shot back, her voice rising. “That thing has jaws like a bloody bear trap! I am not risking my fingers, thank you very much!”

Aemond sighed dramatically, tossing the glass door onto the counter with a loud clatter. “Alright, alright. Step aside, manager. I’ll handle this.”

He moved toward Triton, who was now hissing like a demon freshly unleashed from hell, his beady little eyes locked on Aemond’s every step. “Easy there, mate,” Aemond cooed, crouching down slightly. “We’re all friends here.”

Triton did not seem convinced. He opened his mouth wide, revealing a jagged, prehistoric maw that looked like it could snap through bone without much effort. Aemond’s smirk faltered just a bit.

“Uh, Aemond?” Y/N called out from behind the counter, where she’d taken refuge. “You do realize that thing isn’t gonna just roll over and play fetch, right?”

Aemond shot her a look over his shoulder, his smile somewhere between cocky and slightly terrified. “I’ve got this,” he replied, although he didn’t sound quite as sure as he had a moment ago.

“Famous last words,” Y/N muttered under her breath.

Aemond took another step forward, inching closer to Triton, who seemed to be winding up like a spring. “Alright, Triton, just stay calm,” he murmured, his voice soothing. “You don’t want to bite me. I’m not very tasty, I promise.”

Suddenly, Triton lunged, jaws snapping with a loud clack that echoed through the shop. Aemond jerked back, nearly losing his balance. “Okay, noted,” he said, his voice tight with adrenaline. “Definitely not friendly.”

Y/N, despite the panic racing through her veins, couldn’t help but laugh. “I told you! He’s like the Hannibal Lecter of turtles!”

Aemond threw her a half-exasperated, half-amused look. “Helpful, thanks.”

Y/N glanced around wildly, spotting the broom leaning against the wall. “Use the broom!” she shouted, pointing.

Aemond grabbed the broom, holding it out like a sword. “Alright, Triton, let’s do this,” he muttered, moving in cautiously. He nudged the turtle gently with the broom’s bristles, trying to coax him away from the door.

Triton hissed again, then clamped down on the broom with a force that made Aemond’s eyes widen. “Bloody hell, he’s got a grip like a vice!”

Y/N is sweating bullets now. “Told you! You’re fighting for your life out there!”

Aemond struggled to wrestle the broom free, Triton thrashing wildly at the end of it. He gave the broom one last, hard tug, finally wrenching it free from Triton’s jaws. The turtle, clearly pissed off, made a beeline straight for him.

“Plan B!” Y/N shouted, scrambling onto a chair. “What’s Plan B?”

“Plan B is… I don’t know!” Aemond shouted back, darting around the counter with surprising agility. “Distract him!”

“How the hell do you distract a turtle?” she yelled, almost hysterical.

Aemond grabbed a bag of lettuce from the shelf and tossed a handful in Triton’s direction. “Here, mate, have a snack!”

Triton paused, sniffing the air with apparent suspicion, but then began to chomp at the leaves like a small, angry lawnmower.

Y/N let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “Okay, that… that actually worked?”

Aemond wiped his brow with a dramatic flourish. “See? I told you, I’ve got this.”

Y/N shook her head, half-amused, half-terrified. “Yeah, alright, Targaryen. But next time, you’re wearing armor.”

As the chaos finally settled, Y/N climbed down from her chair. She couldn’t believe they had just survived a snapping turtle attack — and that Aemond had somehow managed to make it look borderline heroic, even with a broom in hand.

She caught her breath and gave him a playful nudge. “You just saved me from a killer turtle. I guess I owe you one.”

Aemond, still holding the broom like some sort of knight who’d vanquished a beast, smirked at her. “What would you even do without me, huh?”

Y/N leaned against the counter, still a little giddy from the adrenaline. “So… do you drink beers? Or are you too posh for that? I was thinking I’d get you a couple as a thank you. Camden’s full of good pubs.”

Aemond raised an eyebrow, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure if he’d laugh or roll his eyes at the suggestion. He didn’t seem like the beer-and-pub type — more like the expensive wine in a penthouse kind of guy. But then, to her surprise, his entire face lit up.

“Beers?” he repeated, his tone a mix of intrigue and enthusiasm. “Absolutely. I could use one after that gladiator match remake with Triton.”

Y/N grinned, genuinely surprised by his enthusiasm. “Alright then, it’s settled. First round’s on me.”

Aemond didn’t argue, and together, they locked up the shop. The evening sun was just beginning to dip behind the rows of buildings in Camden, casting a warm, golden light over the bustling streets. The crowds had thinned out slightly as people finished their shopping, but the familiar hum of the city still surrounded them. Street performers were packing up, and the faint smell of food stalls lingered in the air.

They walked side by side, the rhythm of their steps in sync, heading toward one of the pubs just a short walk away. The air was cool, but not cold, and for the first time in what felt like ages, Y/N felt relaxed. Even after a day of dealing with reptiles and rogue turtles.

“You don’t strike me as the type who hangs out in Camden much,” Y/N said, glancing up at Aemond as they walked. “Do you even go to pubs?”

Aemond grinned, shoving his hands into his coat pockets. “Believe it or not, I’m not a complete hermit. I like going out — just depends on the place. Camden’s… got a vibe.”

She raised an eyebrow, skeptical but amused. “Oh? And what vibe is that, exactly?”

He smirked, looking around as they passed a tattoo shop, a second-hand record store, and a row of graffiti-covered buildings. “It’s raw,” he said after a moment, as if he were describing a fine wine or a work of art. “I like that. It’s not trying too hard.”

Y/N snorted, shaking her head. “You’re a strange one, Targaryen. Loaded, reads like a scholar, hangs out with iguanas, and now you’re telling me you’re into Camden’s ‘raw’ vibe.”

Aemond chuckled, clearly not offended. “I contain multitudes.”

She laughed, turning her gaze forward as they reached the pub. It was a cozy, unpretentious spot with a neon sign that flickered slightly above the door. They stepped inside, greeted by the warm chatter of a few patrons and the clink of glasses behind the bar.

Y/N nudged Aemond toward an empty booth in the corner. “You grab us a spot. I’ll get the drinks.”

As she made her way to the bar, she couldn’t help but glance back at him. He was leaning casually against the booth, his long legs stretched out in front of him, looking completely at ease in a place that seemed the polar opposite of his usual world. There was something oddly magnetic about him — not just his looks, but the way he carried himself, like he belonged everywhere and nowhere all at once.

“Two pints, please,” she ordered, handing over the cash before sliding back into the booth with Aemond.

He took his pint, raising it slightly toward her. “To surviving Triton.”

Y/N clinked her glass against his, laughing. “To surviving Triton,” she echoed.

They took long sips of their beers, and for a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, just enjoying the warmth of the pub and the fading light outside. Y/N leaned back, looking at him curiously. “You know,” she said, her voice softer now, “you’re not what I expected.”

Aemond looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “Oh? And what did you expect?”

She shrugged, giving him a playful grin. “I don’t know. Something more… serious. Intimidating.”

He smirked. “I can be. But I suppose you’re lucky — I like you.”

Y/N’s heart did that little flip again, but she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too cocky, Targaryen. You’re still not off the hook for tomorrow’s snake feeding.”

Aemond laughed, the sound low and warm between the bustles around them. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 18 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, mentions of violence, descriptions of smoking, ANGST, some fluff, SLOW BURN

words: 13.9k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 18 ► if everything i said was true, then why am i paralysed?

You and Jungkook spent the rest of Rated Riot’s day off in your hotel room in Manchester.

People kept coming to check on you, including Minjun, who made a hesitant appearance but brightened up immediately when he heard you and Jungkook laughing just before he opened the door to your room. And after the last visitors—the rest of the Rated Riot members, who had accidentally knocked over a lamp and broken the wardrobe door within fifteen minutes of entering the room—had left, you and Jungkook found yourselves alone in the room again.

You both reached a compromise to lie on the bed and talk since you refused to sleep, and he refused to let you out of the room.

It wasn’t exactly a pillow fort that you’d built for yourselves—really, it was more of a loose, cosy blanket hut—but it still brought back memories of the nights you’d spent in your dorm room years ago. And after last night’s conversation, you couldn’t help but think about all the nights that hadn’t happened because Jungkook was trying to do something more for you.

Really, this was all you needed—back then and, as it turned out, right now: some pillows for comfort and Jungkook laughing next to you.

He rolled onto his side, and you mirrored his position until you were facing each other. Suddenly, you both had to strain very hard not to laugh again. But the story that had amused you at first—about Jungkook and Hoseok’s failed attempt to bake a cake for Yoongi’s birthday the previous year, which was another thing Jungkook hadn’t mentioned to you after nearly setting his apartment on fire—had almost faded from your mind.

You were just happy to be in the moment.

You felt dizzy from the vitamins you’d received over the past few days. And from the shower you’d taken half an hour ago. And from the fact that lying here on the hotel bed with Jungkook was almost overwhelming. It felt a little like you had lost an important piece of yourself—just dropped it somewhere absentmindedly—and now you’d accidentally found it, fully intact.

But at the dark corners of your mind, there were worries. You couldn’t help it—not even the star-shaped pattern reflected in his dark eyes could distract you from the inevitability of the Future. And of Consequences.

What did this mean?

All the thoughtful gestures, the well-meaning mishaps, the inevitable insecurities, and the constant presence of his friends that the two of you had talked about last night. And the bet, too.

What would happen next?

You were about to pull away and succumb fully to your anxiety, but Jungkook reached out a hand—his tattoos blurred in the shadows of your dark room—to sweep a strand of hair from your cheek, and you discovered that, despite everything, your body had not relinquished its instinctive response to his touch.

You felt your breath slowing down, your muscles relaxing. His fingertips gently brushed over the skin of your cheek, and the goosebumps on the back of your neck ran wild. You closed your eyes and exhaled.

Five minutes, he’d once asked you. Five minutes that won’t mean anything once they’re over.

“I feel,” he spoke up softly, and you opened your eyes again, “a bit like we’re back in Amsterdam.”

Hesitantly—against his wishes, really—he withdrew his hand and placed it on the pillow under his cheek.

“We’re, uh—we’re very far from Amsterdam,” you replied.

You didn’t mean the physical distance, of course. You meant the moments from leaving the bed in Amsterdam to being in this bed here, in Manchester—with your arm still slightly stinging from the catheter.

“I know,” Jungkook said. You rolled onto your back, your eyes fixed on the ceiling, even though your mind kept shouting at you to look at him. “But I’m scared to leave this room because I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

You pressed your lips together and ran your tongue over them. You wondered if his fear matched yours, or if they were two opposite sides of the same coin.

You turned your head. “What do you mean?”

He observed you for a moment. The lines of laughter hadn’t faded from your face yet, and you looked breathtaking.

He realised that it was much harder to admit things in the daylight than at night. Arctic Monkeys had made a good point.

“I mean, I don’t know if you’ll be okay,” he said. “If—”

“I will be,” you cut in.

He swallowed. “I don’t know if you’ll talk to me again.”

The look in his eyes was hopeful but uncertain, and you turned back to the ceiling. There was something comforting about the smooth tiles above. They didn’t make you feel like your chest was exploding into millions of little pieces, each with his name inked on it.

“I’m talking to you now,” you managed to say, even after your voice broke on the third syllable.

“Right,” he said. “But I mean about things that really matter.”

“Well,” you inhaled, “we talked about a lot of them last night.”

“Yeah, but that was—you know.” This time, it was Jungkook who rolled onto his back and clasped his hands on his stomach. “Things that happened years ago.”

“Yeah, but they’re new to me,” you pointed out.

“Sure,” he agreed. His foot twitched as he tried to find his words. “But I’m—we haven’t decided if that changes things. Not that I’m—I mean—”

“It changes things.”

He turned his head to look at you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I don’t know what to say because my mind is just, sort of… well, I don’t know. What I do know is that I like being here with you, and I don’t want to think about leaving.”

Jungkook thought that feeling this way was impossible.

After the existential fever that he’d gone through—and all the cigarettes he’d smoked to stay on his feet—his chest and lungs and, really, about three-quarters of his entire body should have turned to ash by now.

But lying next to you and hearing you say that you liked being here with him made him feel more alive than ever before.

“I don’t want to think about it, either,” he admitted in a hushed tone, as if he was revealing a secret. “B-but—we—we’ll have to leave, though.”

A small smile formed on your face. “You sound like me.”

He smiled, too. “I try.”

You snorted and looked away. There was a time restriction on how long you could look at him and keep your brain functioning.

“I know we’ll have to,” you said. “But here’s a, um—an unconventional suggestion. How about we don’t do this right now? How about we don’t talk about the bet, or about us, or about what anything means, and just—let’s just not talk.”

He could do that. He could just not talk.

But it would kill him—having five, fifteen, even thirty minutes of ignorant peace with you. That was simply not enough time.

He didn’t just want an hour with you. He wanted a lifetime.

“Okay. So,” he started, scratching a spot between his knuckles, “what do you want to do?”

“I want,” you replied, swallowing your inner disquiet, “not to have to make any decisions.”

“About us?” he asked. The slight hint of panic in his voice made you tap your restless fingers against the blanket beneath you.

“About anything.”

The room lit up as a car pulled into one of the side alleys behind your hotel room window.

“Reconnaissance?” he said—not really a statement, but not quite a question, either. The name of the band that he’d loved so much suddenly sounded like the start of a curse. “Have you—have you decided if you’re leaving?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, almost nauseous from the sudden surge of stress. It seemed like every aspect of your life required your immediate attention and demanded an answer to a crucial, life-altering question. It felt like everything was slipping away—and you were trying to catch it all at once, and couldn’t catch anything at all.

You really didn’t want to leave this room.

“I haven’t decided how I’m getting out of this bed,” you finally said, your groan muffled by something thick lodged in your throat. You shifted your body to face him but kept your eyes closed. “I don’t know what to tell you, Jungkook. I’m so—I’m just—”

“Okay,” he cut in hastily. He didn’t like the wrinkle between your eyebrows—he preferred the wrinkles by your lips. “Well, look—we don’t—we don’t have to talk about anything that makes you uncomfortable. If you want to go back to work, we can do that. If you want to avoid me, then I’ll—well, I—”

“I don’t want to avoid you,” you said.

“Okay,” he said again because that was the only word he trusted himself with. Hesitantly, he added, “so… truce, then?”

You opened your eyes. “Truce?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Let’s stop avoiding each other. And let’s just focus on our work.”

It sounded a little like another one of his five-minute promises—driven by the urgency to make it so, to drown out the doubts that this was weak. That it wouldn’t work. That you could never go back and expect everything to be okay without making any real decisions about anything: not your relationship, not your future, not even what you’d do tomorrow.

“Can we actually do that?” you asked anyway—and because you did, Jungkook nodded enthusiastically.

“Of course,” he assured. “We can do anything.”

You needed to hear that—even if it wasn’t true. Even if it was temporary.

Knowing that someone was willing to take the responsibility for a decision away from you was good enough for the moment.

“Okay,” you said. “Truce, then.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

“We’ll talk,” you promised quietly, closing your eyes again. “Just not right now.”

You could almost feel the unease settling into a slumber deep inside your mind. It would wake eventually.

All the words, all the feelings—all of it had been left unsaid. Some of it unthought. But it was still there, hovering on the hazy edge of your subconscious, and fighting—the more you resisted—to break out.

But then Jungkook asked if he had ever told you about Taehyung walking in his sleep when he had the flu on tour last year, and all the anxious spaces inside of your chest eased. You smiled as you listened, and you had all you needed—and nothing less—right here again.

The next morning, you left your hotel room feeling a little lighter.

You haven’t fully processed—or adjusted to—the things that Jungkook had revealed to you, but you’d found somewhat of a common ground with him. You could tolerate each other’s presence with surprising ease despite the weight of all the decisions looming over you.

You returned to your duties as soon as you left the hotel. You saw a new text message from Nick on your phone, but you had no time—or wish—to deal with Reconnaissance right now.

At such short notice, the best solution you could find for Jungkook’s black eye was an eye patch. Fortunately, you didn’t have to go far from the venue to find one before Rated Riot started their soundcheck.

Even more fortunate was the fact that the band and the staff all found the eye patch so amusing that they kept making pirate jokes—much to Jungkook’s growing annoyance—and it distracted everyone from your fainting spell and the two days you had spent in bed.

The eye patch was black to match his outfit, or at least that was what you told him. In reality, the only place near the venue where you could buy eye patches was a costume shop.

When you returned to the venue with a dark costume bag, Namjoon happened to be passing by in the corridor. He had no choice but to become an accessory to your petty crime as you grabbed the eye patch and hid the rest of the costume in Namjoon’s suitcase.

There was no reason for Jungkook to know about the rest of the costume, and Namjoon—once he stopped laughing—agreed.

You figured that as long as the patch covered the bandages and discolouration around Jungkook’s eye, it would be okay.

Jungkook, of course, had a different opinion.

“I look stupid,” he insisted when you and Jimin were double-checking the sound equipment. The two of you wanted to make sure no damage had been done to it when the venue staff cleaned up after the flood.

“Should’ve thought about that before you got a black eye,” you mumbled half-heartedly, too preoccupied with the list of electronics that Jimin had handed you. You didn’t recognise most of the devices on the list and couldn’t even read what some were called in the awful lighting backstage.

Meanwhile, Rated Riot’s temporary opening act finished her set, allowing Seokjin to go out and prepare the stage for the band. Expectant cheers from the audience lifted your spirits as you followed Jimin’s list.

Maggie had been the one who secured this up-and-coming artist to open for the band tonight. Her name was Ivy, and she had tattoos of ivy vines all over her arms, which may have been the initial reason Maggie chose her. But as soon as Ivy started to sing, there was no question about her talent.

“Hey, Jungkook!” Seokjin called out ten minutes later, and you glanced up just as he walked down the steps from the stage. “Serious question: what has six eyes, six legs, and six arms?”

You guessed the punchline before Jungkook could even open his mouth. “How is that—”

“Six pirates!” Seokjin answered, and his endearing—and so contagious that it was almost ungodly—windshield wiper laugh made you chuckle as well. Jimin hiccupped and turned away from everyone, presumably to conceal his own laughter.

“That’s it, I’m taking this off,” Jungkook declared in frustration, reaching for the string that secured the patch.

You stopped laughing and jumped up, shouting a panicked “no!” and quickly grabbing his wrist.

He looked up, momentarily stunned by your touch.

“If you go on that stage with your bandages and a black eye underneath, the label will send us straight home,” you said. “I don’t care how much you sweat or how many pirate jokes these guys make. You’re wearing this.”

He pouted, exaggerating his reaction, but there was genuine discomfort in his healthy eye, even if it was drowning in black eye shadow. He knew it would be unprofessional to get on stage without covering up his wounds, but he worried the eye patch was a worse alternative.

“I look fucking stupid,” he said, and to be fair, he did look silly—to say the least. But you had seen him at the soundcheck. When he performed, his make-up and accessories faded against his voice and stage presence.

“You don’t,” you reassured him again. “You’re a rockstar. You can pull off an eye patch.”

He continued to watch you, his pout becoming more dramatic when he scrunched his nose. You felt a smile spreading on your lips. He had looked at you like this on purpose many times—usually to convince you that he couldn’t possibly survive without seeing you right this instant, even though you had to study for exams—and your chest immediately warmed.

You managed to nod again to reaffirm what you’d just said. Finally, he sighed and let go of the patch. You released his wrist and took a step back.

Just then, Jimin emerged from behind one of the amplifiers to your left. You couldn’t see the wide grin on his face, but Jungkook could, and he reached for Hoseok’s drumsticks right away.

“Ready when you are, Captain,” Jimin said and then quickly ducked as Jungkook tossed the drumstick at his head.

“Fuck off,” he grumbled, ignoring Jimin’s laughter and allowing Yoongi to guide him to the stairs that led to the stage.

“Do you really think he can pull this off?” Jimin asked you as the band members walked towards the dimly lit stage entrance.

All four of them stumbled over their feet at least once, but you didn’t react—you’ve been their manager long enough to know that tripping before a concert was almost a good luck charm.

“Because I assume,” Jimin went on, “that he was trying to divert attention from his eye patch by applying all the black eyeshadow he has to his other eye.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, suspecting the same. “Up close, he sort of looks like Captain Hook and Edward Scissorhands had a baby.”

“Oh my God, he does,” Jimin whispered in awe and grabbed onto your shoulder to steady himself as his laughter erupted in violent waves. “Someone needs to get him a wig, so—so he could wear Captain Hook’s hat, too—with the—with the feather and everything—”

The image finally made you lose your composure, too. Seokjin looked up when he heard your laughter and approached to learn what was so funny. After Jimin panted through an answer, the stage manager joined in.

The three of you laughed so hard that you transcended noise and just wheezed voicelessly like malfunctioning dog whistles.

Suddenly, Jungkook turned to look at you from the side of the stage as he inserted his earpiece. You had half a second to pull yourself together before he lost confidence and threw the eye patch away.

Quickly, you raised your hand and formed an ‘O’ with your fingers to signal that everything was okay—even though you had tears in your eyes and the laughter of the two boys did not help you keep a straight face.

Jungkook had doubt in his eyes—well, eye—but you bit your lip and gave him another reassuring nod. Despite your amusement, you could tell he looked ready. And from this far, his eyeshadow didn’t look all that threatening.

As you watched the intense concentration on his face, it was hard to imagine there being anything in this world that could make him look bad. Neither the eye patch, nor the heavy make-up truly managed it.

Jungkook took a step forward just as Taehyung played the first note on his bass. The audience greeted the band with explosive cries that reached you at the back of the stage.

“I have to go,” you told Seokjin and Jimin while they continued to gasp for breath—because they started laughing every time they looked at each other. “Someone has to make sure the eye patch doesn’t fall off during the show.”

“We should find him a bottle of rum,” Seokjin said, and Jimin threw his whole body backwards as he laughed.

“A parrot,” he managed between wheezes, prompting Seokjin to clap in vigorous approval as his face contorted with near-painful laughter.

You were still snickering when you walked away to watch the show from the venue.

Fortunately, Jungkook’s eye patch stayed in place throughout Rated Riot’s performance. What surprised you, however, was the effect it had on the audience.

Unlike everyone backstage, the fans didn’t find the eye patch funny or ridiculous. They loved it.

Granted, you probably should have seen this coming. When Jungkook took off his shirt in the second half of the show, which had become almost a tradition at this point, the eye patch—along with his tattoos, dishevelled hair and messy make-up—did, sort of, make your breath catch in your throat as well.

But as luck would have it, you couldn’t concentrate too much on what was happening on stage because your friends—bless them—kept giving you worried looks. It was very sweet of them, of course, but you started to feel sicker than you really were.

As the show approached its conclusion, you realised that you were feeling slightly lightheaded, after all. It usually got very hot very quickly this close to the stage, so you weren’t too worried. Still, you decided to miss the last few songs just in case.

You returned backstage just as Rated Riot started their encore. You hoped to have a few minutes alone with your thoughts and a bottle of water. However, as soon as you walked through the corridor towards the waiting area, you nearly collided with Minjun.

You pulled back, startled. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

“Headache,” he said, holding up his beer bottle as if that was his solution to the problem. “What about you? Do you—do you maybe happen to have a minute?”

You were surprised that Minjun would need any of your minutes at all.

“Uh—” you glanced back, even though the noise of the concert was loud enough to hear without turning around. “Sure. What’s up?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he explained, putting his bottle on the table near the dressing room. He shoved his hands in his pockets and paused before turning around. “Uh, first of all, um—are you okay?”

Your polite smile seemed to hide a deep weariness. The corner of your lip fluttered treacherously.

“Yeah,” you said. “I’m fine.”

“I heard that’s your default answer,” he remarked sheepishly.

You hadn’t expected that. Unlike Sid, who only asked questions to fill the silence, Minjun observed you in a way that Jungkook often did—with a quiet determination to get you to admit the truth.

Your expression softened.

“I mean it,” you said. “I really do feel better. Just a little dizzy, but I guess that’s because it’s really hot out there.”

“Yeah—oh, can I get you water? A beer?” he asked. You sensed guilty undertones in his offer; as though he wanted to do something nice for you to redeem himself.

“Water would be great,” you said. “But I can—”

“One second!”

He hurried into the dressing room and returned half a minute later with a bottle of water from the mini-fridge, its plastic cloudy from condensation.

“Thank you,” you said. “Do you want to sit?”

You gestured towards the couch, pushed against the far wall of the corridor. He nodded in response, and the two of you sat down in complete—and a little awkward—silence.

“So, was that… what you wanted to talk to me about?” you asked, unsure what to make of his discomfort as he fiddled his fingers next to you. He looked like he was about to shed his skin.

“No, um—it’s not,” he said. “Uh… I wanted to talk about Jungkook. I meant to do it earlier, but, well, you weren’t feeling well, and I didn’t want to—”

“That’s okay,” you said, hoping to hide your impatience with another polite smile. “Talk to me.”

You took a sip of your water, which was far too cold to feel refreshing, while Minjun collected his thoughts.

“Well—h-he fucked up,” he said profoundly.

You nodded, not quite present in the conversation because you were trying not to open your mouth and hah-hah-hah from the cold water like you would if your throat was burning.

“Sure,” you said.

Minjun looked a little thrown off by the word. Given the extent of Jungkook’s suffering after he told you about the bet and couldn’t convince you to hear him out, Minjun assumed you would refuse to even hear a word about it.

“Sid had a lot to do with that,” he added, crossing his arms and stretching his denim jacket.

You nodded again, still as nonchalant as before. Minjun was a little perplexed.

But really, you’ve already talked to Jungkook—and Luna—about this. Not extensively, but it was enough for you to accept that it had happened, and that you didn’t possess a watch that could magically turn back time and make different choices.

Sid had proposed the bet, and Jungkook had played along with it. It was done. And now there was no reason to scream or storm out.

“He always does,” you said.

“That’s—well, that’s very true.” Minjun looked at the ground. He knew what he wanted to talk to you about, but your reasonable responses had left his thoughts in disarray, and now his mind was throwing random, incomprehensible bits of his rehearsed speech at him. “Jungkook, um—he thinks Sid likes you.”

You were already nodding once more when you froze, frowning instead. “Excu—what?”

“Yeah,” Minjun said, feeling a little more collected now that you finally reacted as he’d expected. “Apparently, he believes that Sid pressured him into making this bet because of that. To sabotage your relationship, I guess.”

You couldn’t help a scoff. “That’s dramatic.”

Minjun arched his brow. “Have you met Sid?”

“I didn’t say it didn’t fit his personality,” you said. “I just said it’s dramatic. And unnecessary”

“Well,” he shrugged one of his shoulders, “those are his middle names.”

“I don’t think it’s true, though,” your answer was quick. As if you hadn’t needed any time at all to think if this was possible. The very idea that Sid liked anyone other than himself was laughable.

“You don’t?” Minjun asked. He didn’t seem surprised by your disagreement. Merely curious to hear your reasoning.

“No,” you said. “If he liked me, he would have done something about it. I’ve known you guys almost as long as I’ve known Jungkook. And all that Sid’s done in this time, is make my life difficult.”

Minjun lowered his head. Those were his first assumptions as well. Sid wouldn’t stay on the sidelines that long. If he wanted something, he went to great lengths to get it.

But on the other hand, if Sid couldn’t get something, he often acted as if he’d never even wanted it, and harboured a deep resentment towards the object of desire at the same time.

Minjun sighed.

“I think I agree with you,” he said.

You turned to look at him. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” he said. “I don’t know if Sid ever really liked you, but I think the real problem is that Sid’s jealous of Jungkook and everything Jungkook has. He’s inferior to Sid, you know? That’s how Sid sees it. And yet, Jungkook is in a rock band. He has shows almost every night. He has real friends, real talent, real support. And he has a girl he loves more than anything. All Sid has is money. He probably doesn’t even understand how it’s possible for money to matter so little.”

You bobbed your head in contemplation. Money held such a massive significance in this world. The fact that Sid had it in abundance and still couldn’t find contentment only proved how pitiful he truly was.

“I thought the same thing,” you admitted. “I always assumed there must be some tension between them now that Jungkook is more than just Sid’s friend. Or, really, his sidekick.”

Minjun nodded. “Exactly, yeah.”

You exhaled and stretched your legs. You wondered what Minjun’s logic was, since he knew what Sid was like, but did not do anything to rid himself of him.

“Why are you, by the way?” you asked. “Sid’s friend, I mean.”

Minjun’s sad smile confirmed to you that there was something more here. No one would have willingly chosen to keep Sid in their lives.

“I’m doing a community service to rescue Jude from his claws,” he said in a very serious tone. “And to leave Sid alone and miserable.”

“I admire your mission,” you said with an amused smile. “But seriously. Why?”

He sighed. He preferred the silly, made-up versions of his story.

I’m an undercover FBI agent collecting information on Sid so we can lock him up for good.

I’m writing a book on insufferable psychopaths. Sid is my primary research subject.

All of these made him appear like he had some control over his choices. They made him feel less pathetic.

“It’s a family thing,” Minjun said, closing his eyes and pulling the corner of his lip into his mouth. “I don’t...”

He let the sentence trail off, and you interjected softly, “you don’t have to tell me everything.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he said, giving you an apologetic look. “It’s just… stupid. My family—well, my parents—they’ve been business partners with Sid’s mum for a long time. She bought my parents’ company, and they signed some partnership agreement that was supposed to guarantee that my parents retained full control of their business. But, uh, you know.”

“They still answer to Sid’s mum in the end,” you finished.

Minjun clicked his tongue. “Yeah. It’s… they used to send me off to play with Sid, and they would tell me to be nice to him. Because if I upset him and it gets to his mother, my parents are the ones who suffer for it.”

“That’s—that makes no sense,” you said, lacking a better description for something that sounded ridiculous and, frankly, surreal.

“I know,” he agreed. “But Sid’s mum is—he’s her only kid. And she really, really wanted to have kids. I don’t know the whole story—I never cared—but from what I’ve heard, Sid’s parents tried everything they could for a very long time to have children. They have the money for it. Still, nothing worked. And then, all of a sudden, Sid. Their miracle baby. Their little angel. Maybe if they hadn’t treated him like he was king, he would have turned out differently. But his mum doesn’t even hear the way he talks to her sometimes.”

You tsked, unimpressed. “I’m not surprised. Nothing’s sacred to him.”

“Yeah. He doesn’t care about others. And still, his mother is ready to unleash hell if anyone wrongs him,” Minjun said, reaching to brush some invisible dust from his upper arm. “The ironic thing is, though, everyone in my parents’ company was very happy when Sid was born. His mum was—well, understandably, she wasn’t the most pleasant person to be around when she was going through… all that, you know? And I say that respectfully. She threatened to bankrupt my mum after she got pregnant with me and tried to talk to Sid’s mum about parental leave.”

You’ve never met Sid’s parents, but you’ve had the misfortune of meeting Sid, and it wasn’t hard to imagine where he got his personality from.

“Ah,” you said. “So, the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree, huh?”

Minjun snickered and shook his head.

“Hmm, it doesn’t. But Sid’s mum found out a few weeks later that she was pregnant, too. And from then on, she was a real saint,” he said. “So, my parents were hoping that I could be the leverage if something went wrong in their business. ‘Oh, but our sons have always been almost like brothers’ kind of thing. That way, they won’t lose all their money if Sid’s mum has a sudden change of heart.”

“Fuck,” you concluded.

“Yeah. They would have gotten him and me engaged, too.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t, actually.”

A small, ironic smile had crept onto Minjun’s lips.

“I’m sure they’ve thought about it,” he said, looking at the bottle of beer he’d left across the room. He’d put it there because he didn’t want to drink if you weren’t drinking, but now he was regretting his manners. “Unfortunately, Sid isn’t my type. My parents had the decency to respect that, at least.”

You chuckled, and Minjun brightened a little, too.

“To be fair,” you remarked, “I don’t think Sid is anyone’s type.”

“Good point.”

You looked at the floor tiles and considered this. You wanted to know if it had happened before—something to convince Minjun that he should obey Sid as much as possible, or his parents would face the consequences—but you didn’t think it was fair to ask him to elaborate.

The way Minjun looked right now, with all colour drained from his eyes as he tried to keep smiling, it seemed like he knew exactly what Sid’s mum could do if her son said one word to her.

So, the two of you sat in silence for a little while longer, while shouts of excitement from the concert echoed around you.

“And, uh—what about Jude, then?” you asked after a minute. “Why does he stick around?”

Minjun didn’t make jokes this time.

“I honestly think Jude just doesn’t know any better,” he said. “He’s known Sid the longest. Their mothers were friends before Jude’s parents got divorced and his mum moved abroad. He just doesn’t know a different life.”

“You mean he’s too used to Sid to see that he is bad for him,” you summarised.

“I think he sees it,” Minjun said, analysing the plaster on the walls of the waiting area. “He just doesn't care.”

“Ah.” You nodded your head. “He needs help.”

“Lots of it.”

“Mmhm.”

That about confirmed to you that Sid had always been the problem. The poisonous leech.

Jungkook saw the problem, even if it took him a while. And Minjun saw it, too. It was just absurdly unfair that there was nothing he could do about it.

And then you wondered if Jungkook could do anything about it. He’d fought Sid and banned him from Rated Riot shows. But would that accomplish anything?

This was Sid. Sometimes it seemed like all it took for him to be summoned was just the mention of his name. He had to be at least half-demon.

“Kind of sad, when you think about it, isn’t it?” Minjun spoke up then. You thought he was referring to himself before he added, “that Sid doesn’t have one real friend.”

You grimaced.

“I’m—not sure if I’d call it sad,” you said. “I don’t think he deserves to have real friends.”

“Yeah, no, that’s true,” he settled. “Still, though. He acts like a king. And all he really has is just paper.”

You considered yourself a compassionate, caring person. But you didn’t think you were capable of genuinely pitying Sid.

“Did you come here to make me feel bad for him?” you asked. “Because if that’s the case, we might be here for a while, and I’m not sure either of us has the time.”

“No,” Minjun said, chuckling awkwardly. “He’s the last person you should feel bad for. I’m just saying… he’s miserable and he likes to make others miserable, too. Especially Jungkook.”

He gave you a look, and you turned away, realising that you were circling back to his original reason for talking to you.

You took another sip of water. It had warmed a little and tasted less violent in your throat.

“Yeah, well.” You popped your lips. “Pretty much everyone who knows Sid knows that.”

“Yeah, and I… I should have found you earlier,” he said, lowering his head in a manner reminiscent of all the times you had seen him avoid your gaze when you entered the room. “Sid made sure Jungkook couldn’t tell you, but I wasn’t—I could’ve told you about the bet.”

“That would have—well, it would have saved us a lot of, uh, time,” you said and gave him a kind smile that was supposed to let him know you weren’t really angry. But Minjun only felt worse after he saw it.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He looked up as he spoke and the regret in his eyes added a deeper significance to his apology. “I was… afraid, I guess. I don’t know how else to—well, it’s not a good excuse, but—”

“I get it,” you interrupted. “And thanks. It’s not really your mess to clean, though.”

He didn’t think it was. Still, he felt like he had let Jungkook down.

After seeing you two laughing together in your hotel room, Minjun hoped that Jungkook had explained his decisions—no matter how backwards they were—to you. So, now it was time for Minjun to say something, too.

“Jungkook, uh… he made the stupid decision to play Sid’s game,” he said. “And now you’re both suffering because of it. I don’t think you should give Sid that much power.”

You contemplated this for a minute and gave a slight shake of your head.

“See,” you said, “I think Jungkook is the one suffering because of Sid’s game. And I’m in this because of the consequences of a stupid decision that Jungkook had made.”

“True enough. He shouldn’t have cared about Sid that much,” Minjun agreed. The pounding in his head doubled as he tried to think of how to phrase himself next. “It’s not really my place to say, but um—I’ve been friends with Jungkook for most of my life, so I think I know him pretty well. He’s—he has always been in love with you. He’s just… blinded by a lot of irrelevant things. And I think he realises that now. He was really shaken up after the bet, and that’s when these things happen, isn’t it? Something massive strikes and it makes you rearrange your priorities. Well, his priority is you.”

Minjun felt your body tense next to him on the couch. He had never said anything like this to you—and Jungkook had never soberly told Minjun that he loved you, either—but it was about as obvious as your warm eyes and clenched jaw.

You knew it, too. You just didn’t want to acknowledge it.

“He made a really stupid decision,” Minjun reiterated. “And I think he knew that right away. Except you know Sid. He couldn’t let him off the hook, especially when he saw how miserable this made Jungkook.”

You hummed, incapable, suddenly, of a verbal response.

The shouts around you grew louder. Rated Riot were finishing the final song of the encore—and it started to sound like another band member had removed a piece of clothing.

“The bet and his feelings for you,” Minjun continued, “those are two separate things. So, I just—well, which one of them do you feel upset about?”

The anxiety in your lungs didn’t have much room to spare for oxygen, but the question still knocked all breath out of you.

“I—”

“No, actually,” Minjun said, closing his eyes and drawing back, “you know what? This isn’t something I should be asking you. I’m sorry. It’s something you should talk to him about. When you’re ready, of course.”

You still looked near panicked when Minjun glanced at you, and you hurried to respond in a way that would end the conversation, because the staff and the band would soon join you backstage. You needed another bottle of water before you could return to your job.

“Yeah. Uh, I’ll—I’ll see about that,” you ended up saying, which wasn’t much, but Minjun wasn’t going to push. “I’m, uh… they’re about to get off stage—I—I have to go check on them.” You stood up. You still hadn’t made eye contact with him. “We have an eye patch situation as you’re well aware, I’m sure.”

Minjun smiled courteously.

“I know,” he said. “But make sure to think about what I said, okay?”

“I will,” you said, trying to nod, but your head felt too full. You were worried that if you moved it, all of your uncertainty and fear would spill out.

You had hoped to delay talking to Jungkook about everything a little longer, but something in your universe was pushing against that.

“Thank you,” you said almost as an afterthought.

“Hm?” Minjun raised his eyebrows. “For what?”

“For staying with him.”

Minjun’s eyes warmed as his smile spread.

“He’s my oldest friend,” he said. “Of course, I’m staying.”

The usual lines of people waiting to meet Rated Riot at the merch stand after the show had tripled tonight. It appeared that almost everyone who had bought a ticket stayed back for the band.

You didn’t know if the eye patch had anything to do with it, but Maggie’s Instagram post with preview pictures from tonight’s show, half-jokingly titled “Rockstar Pirate”, quickly became the most-liked post on her account.

However, before Jungkook could go out and meet the fans, his bandages had to be changed. The intense jumping and sweating had not been good for his wounds, and the ten-minute shower after the performance had not been enough to prevent some fresh bleeding.

But that was to be expected. Some of his cuts were narrow but appeared deep.

What was unexpected, however, was his insistence that he was fine. He would just put the eye patch on and head right back out.

“Do you have any idea,” you scolded as you forcefully sat him down on the counter next to the sink in the bathroom of the venue, “what sort of problems I’d have if these got infected?”

You brought the cotton swab over the scrapes above his cheek, and he gritted his teeth as the antiseptic burned his skin. “It sounds like it’d be me who would have problems.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Maybe even sepsis. But I could get sued for not doing my job.”

“Hmm. And if I die?”

“Then I’d have a funeral to plan on top of that, too.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry my death would inconvenience you so much.”

“It would,” you said, pulling back. “So, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t die, seeing as I already have a lot to do.”

He grinned, always thrilled to tease you back. However, this time, he took the opportunity when you weren’t looking at him to ask, “how are you feeling?”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, equally as determined to insist that you were okay and that the last two days hadn’t happened.

“I’m fine, of course,” you said.

“Of course,” he repeated dryly.

“I really mean it,” you said as you struggled to open the glass bottle of ointment. Jungkook had informed you earlier that the nurses at the hospital ‘had used something similar’ when he went there the other day, so you felt a bit more confident about this procedure. “I got eight hours of sleep two nights in a row. That’s unheard of.”

“I’m glad,” he said.

You finally got the bottle to open. Jungkook frowned and drew back.

“Well, can you be glad without moving?” you asked, approaching him with the ointment and a few cotton pads. You’d hoped the antiseptic had soaked into his skin by now. You didn’t have time to wait.

“Is that even necessary?” he asked, pouting and pulling his head back until he hit the mirror behind him. “This stings like a bitch.”

You were nearly leaning over him with all your weight to reach his face. One of your palms pressed into his thigh as you fought to keep your balance, and Jungkook stilled, but did not shut up.

“T-the cuts are not getting infected,” he insisted. He paused and bit into his lip ring when you exhaled and he discovered that he could feel your breath against his cheek. As soon as he realised that he didn’t actually pass out for a minute there, he continued, “do I really need bandages if I wear the eye patch? I personally think I’m—”

“You’re sweating under it,” you cut him off, your eyes narrowed in concentration as you traced the cuts on his cheekbone with the pad. You continued to speak distractedly, “and it’s a rental, in any case. You can’t put that on a bare wound.”

He blinked and jerked his head to the side, nearly causing you to topple over him.

“Jungkook, come on—”

“It’s a rental?” he repeated, his face twisted in a comical expression of disbelief. “How—how do you mean?”

You sighed. You shouldn’t have let that slip.

“I’m sure they disinfect the costumes after they’re returned, so, don’t worry about that,” you said. “Now please—”

“It’s part of a costume?!” he shouted, but you grabbed the back of his neck with your free hand to keep him in place. He felt a sudden shiver ripple down his spine. “Wait, w-what—a-am I a joke to you?”

The corners of your lips quivered as you tried to resist a smirk. You dabbed the cotton pad onto the bruise around his eye and did not speak until you finished applying the ointment to every cut and scrape you could see.

“No,” you said then. “You’re not very funny.”

Locked in place by your cold hands on the back of his neck, Jungkook realised he did not have any reflexes left whatsoever. He did not have much of anything, to be honest, aside from a severe case of hot, violent wings in his stomach.

“Not very f—I’ll—oh, I’ll show you funny,” he finally managed.

He grabbed your wrist, halting your movements. Surprised—and, honestly, amused—you tried to pull back from him, but found yourself trapped in his grip as he jumped off the counter.

You pressed your lips together to stifle a laugh. He tried very hard to glare at you, but his lips were pursed in an obvious attempt not to smile back and his cheeks were tinted with the softest shade of pink.

A part of you was glad, actually, that he was restraining you right now because you weren’t sure if you would have found it in yourself to resist the urge to bring your hand over his flushed cheeks.

After a loaded minute, Jungkook finally released you and shook his head, turning his back to you in a dramatic demonstration of defiance.

“Jungkook,” you said. He could hear the playful lilt in your voice. “Come on, sit down. I’m almost done.”

“I’m wearing a pirate costume!” he protested.

“You’re not wearing a costume. It’s just an eye patch. Sit down.”

He shook his head again, but turned around, mustering as much irritation as he could. You were smiling and he was hardly capable of being angry about that.

“I look like Jack Sparrow’s long-lost, half-blind cousin,” he accused half-heartedly.

He looked almost scandalised when you laughed at this.

“You wish,” you teased, peeling off the adhesive tape from the new bandages that Namjoon was kind enough to buy earlier in the day.

“Excuse me?” Jungkook raised his eyebrows. “Now you’re going to tell me I’m not good enough to be related to Jack Sparrow?”

You were glad he did not move when you approached him again and carefully applied the adhesive pad to his bruises.

“That’s Captain Jack Sparrow,” you said.

He glowered, but his image crumbled the second he saw your grin.

“You nerd,” he said, breaking off into a soft laugh. His eyes were fixed on you as you gently tapped the edges of the bandages to make sure they stayed in place.

“Hey, now,” you warned, pulling back to give him a look that was about as stern as your tentative touch. “You’re the one who forced me to watch the films.”

Jungkook felt his smile spread—impossibly so. He thought he looked a little like one-eyed Joker now as he remembered watching films in your dorm room. He remembered how the two of you had complained about the slow wi-fi, which kept reducing the film quality to 240p. Remembered pretending not to cry when one half of the couple in the film died. Remembered getting distracted by the look in your eyes as you got immersed in the plot. Remembered kissing you. Remembered making you smile as you gently pushed his chest away and told him to ‘look at the screen.’

And then he remembered where he was now, and the dim bathroom brightened under your smile as you packed up your medical kit.

“Hey, so, um…” He swallowed, watching you walk away to dispose of the waste. “Can we talk, then? Later?”

Your head was still heavy, and you had a startling realisation that the only time the weight on your shoulders lightened was when you were with Jungkook—when you were smiling at each other like middle-schoolers on a clumsy first date.

“We’ll talk,” you said while trying to quiet down your thoughts that insisted that this moment here was a sign. That this was the decision. “When the time is right.”

Jungkook looked almost ready to protest, but then he realised you were teasing him for having said the same thing to you before.

He remembered how that conversation went—he remembered everything and with such clarity that his palms tingled and his heart pounded.

“3 AM, then?” he asked, grinning. “Will you come find me?”

You smiled back. “I’ll come find you.”

When the members of Rated Riot returned backstage after meeting fans, the drinks had already been finished. Everyone was leaving for the bus.

Jungkook knew better than to stay in the dressing room by himself—despite having banned Sid from his shows and being across the continent from him—so he asked Taehyung to wait for him.

Then, as he was unplugging his charger by the bathroom door, his phone vibrated with a text message—from Jude, of all people. Throughout their friendship, Jungkook didn’t think Jude had ever texted him personally, and not in their groupchat.

The text read, “come outside to the smoking area? Sid is fuming bc he can’t enter the venue.. gotta talk.”

Right away, Jungkook felt a sense of unease in the pit of his stomach.

He’d kicked Sid out in Cologne. What the fuck was he doing in Manchester?

For a brief moment, Jungkook toyed with the possibility of saying he was busy. He did have to return to the bus in case you would look for him, after all. However, he knew that not answering Sid’s call—because, really, Jude was just the proxy here—could have ugly consequences.

Why’d he fly to the UK? What was wrong with him?

It wasn’t that Jungkook felt afraid of him. He was annoyed more than anything—he’d blacklisted Sid, and still couldn’t escape him.

But Jungkook was afraid of the impact that his inescapable connection to Sid could have on you and your relationship.

“You know what?” he said, raising his head to look at Taehyung. “Maybe you should go ahead without me. There’s something I need to take care of first.”

Taehyung glanced at the younger member’s phone, then back at his face. “You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s nothing,” Jungkook said as he typed back a “K” to Jude. “It’ll just be a second.”

Taehyung merely shrugged. This reaction was so casual that Jungkook automatically assumed it to mean that the older member was going back to the bus.

“I can wait then,” Taehyung said instead.

Jungkook did a surprised double-take before he put his phone away. He realised suddenly that he was embarrassed for Taehyung to witness whatever would happen in the smoking area.

“No, it’s—I have to talk to Jude,” he said, hoping that the name would deter him, but the older boy stood his ground even more firmly.

“All the more reason for me to stay with you,” he said, making it clear that one black eye was already too much.

Jungkook knew they could continue to argue about this while Sid raged outside the venue. And he knew that if he refused Taehyung’s company again, the older boy might seek you out instead.

“Okay,” Jungkook decided. “That’s fine. You can wait here. Jude’s right outside in the smoking area, so—”

“Great,” Taehyung said, taking the first step towards the door of the dressing room. “I’ll come with.”

Jungkook watched him open the door. “Why? For the fresh air?”

His bandmate gave him a sarcastic half-smile. “To make sure you won’t need a whole blindfold for your performance tomorrow.”

Aware that he’d been outwitted, Jungkook rolled his eyes and left the dressing room with a protective Taehyung following behind him.

Sid, Jude, and Minjun were all gathered in the smoking area. Sid and Jude were standing tall—with Sid towering over the other boys, of course—while Minjun looked more like he was crouching. His eyes were downcast, and his posture reflected his wish to be anywhere but here.

Fortunately, Mick, the head of security, was there, too.

“What’s going on here?” Jungkook asked, his voice surprisingly firm—as if these people had never been his friends.

“This gentleman refuses to leave,” Mick reported, casting a scornful glance at Sid. Sid, in turn, responded by raising his middle finger. “I think that calling the police will resolve this issue faster.”

Jungkook would have loved to see Sid in the back of a police car.

But he was worried that this would only cause you more problems with the label. The executives were okay with Rated Riot embodying the rockstar stereotypes, but they probably wouldn’t approve of any police involvement.

On the other hand... why not get rid of Sid once and for all? If he continued to preach his truth without listening to anyone else, it might do him good to spend the night at the station. And if he was high, too, or happened to have something on him—both were likely, Jungkook decided when he glanced at the pockets of Sid’s puffy jacket—then he might stay in a cell for a while longer.

“Give me a minute, Mick, please,” Jungkook asked, taking out his phone. He’d decided to try to handle this quietly, but he still wanted the option of calling the police.

Mick looked at Taehyung for confirmation—which irked Jungkook, because he didn’t like being reminded of his young age and relative lack of authority here.

After Taehyung nodded, the bodyguard turned back to the vocalist.

“Alright,” Mick said. “I’ll be right inside.”

Minjun raised his eyes suddenly, and Jungkook expected to see relief on his face. He saw anxiety instead. Minjun regretted that Jungkook was getting involved again.

After Mick left, Sid finally stepped into the light from the neon sign above the exit. Immediately, Jungkook started to feel more confident about his eye patch, because Sid’s face was red, black, and blue, and so swollen that he could have auditioned for the role of the pumpkin in Cinderella.

“You have one minute to state your business and get your ass out of here,” Jungkook told him. “Or I’m calling the cops.”

Sid scoffed. Challenged by the doubt in his eyes, Jungkook unlocked his phone.

“I’ll pretend I don’t know that you’ve blacklisted me,” Sid snapped, ignoring Taehyung’s presence—which was alarming, because that had never happened before. Sid typically only showed his true self to those closest to him. Or to total strangers. “But it has come to my attention that Minjun broke the rules of the bet, and I can’t ignore that.”

Of course, Jungkook thought. Of course, he would follow him to a different country, even after their fight. Sid thought they had unfinished business.

“Technically,” Minjun said, “the rules don’t apply to me, seeing as I’m—”

“Seeing as you’re the one supposed to enforce the fucking rules,” Sid finished for him, feral rage dripping from every single word he spoke. “What should I make of that, hm? You’re picking sides?”

“I’m not—”

“Your parents won’t like that, I’m sure,” Sid added because he couldn’t help but always assert his dominance with veiled threats.

Minjun clenched his jaw. He remembered the repulsion in your eyes when he told you about this earlier. He felt himself gain strength from your reaction.

“Grow some balls,” he rasped, “and keep our parents out of the shit that you pull. We’re not in kindergarten.”

Sid narrowed his eyes and took a threatening step closer to him.

Meanwhile, Jude leaned over Jungkook to provide an unnecessary explanation, “Sid knows Minjun gave you back the keys.”

Jude smelled of booze and of something intentionally sweet. Ignoring him, Jungkook kept his gaze on Sid.

“It’s just a bet, dude,” Jungkook said before Sid decided to raise a fist. Minjun had never fought anyone before. Jungkook didn’t like his friend’s odds. “Let it go.”

Sid turned his head in what seemed like dramatic slow motion.

If there was a worse thing that Jungkook could have said, he hadn’t found it yet—Sid looked about ready to bite his head straight off and tear it into little pieces before feeding the remains to baby cheetahs or whatever scavengers he undoubtedly raised in the backyard of his family’s mansion.

“That narrative works out awfully well in your favour, doesn’t it?” Sid sneered. “Considering you walk out of here with the girl, after all, hmm?”

“The girl,” Jungkook countered, “was mine to begin with.”

Sid laughed, throwing his head back. “You were ready to give her up for a game just a few weeks ago!”

Jungkook clenched his fists. He couldn’t help but notice that it was “the girl” in particular that Sid brought up as unfair.

Taehyung watched the younger boy’s body language. He knew what might happen next: Jungkook had nothing to say to that, so he seemed intent on shifting the conversation to a more physical level. A level that would likely result in more black eyes and knocked-out teeth.

God, when did he and Luna become babysitters?

He let out a sigh and took a step forward. “We should go, Jungkook. The bus is leaving soon.”

Grounded by his voice, Jungkook glanced at the older member. Taehyung nodded and Jungkook took a deep breath to relax his muscles. He turned around.

There was no point to any of this. He had nothing left to prove to Sid.

“Oh, that’s right,” Sid called out as soon as Jungkook started to walk away. “You don’t have shit to say, so you leave. Fucking typical. Once a loser, always a loser.”

Like any rational person, Taehyung groaned and opened his mouth to suggest calling the police since Sid clearly didn’t want to go away quietly.

But the older member wasn’t able to react quickly enough when Jungkook suddenly whipped around and marched back towards Sid, his expression not just determined, but downright murderous.

Minjun widened his eyes and stepped into the gap between the two boys.

“Drop it, Sid,” he said, facing away from Jungkook. His voice sounded nervous, but he pushed Sid’s chest to prompt him to take a step back.

Sid stepped back—and then took another step to give the impression that he had pulled away voluntarily.

“Why should I be the one to drop it?” he demanded.

“Because you’re the only one who still cares about it,” Minjun said.

“And I’m one part of the bet,” Sid argued. “So, it’s hardly fair, isn’t it? I won the bike.”

Jungkook calmed down when he lost sight of Sid. Instead, he noted that Jude hadn’t objected once.

Technically, three people had made the bet, but Jude seemed to consider himself part of Sid now. Or he simply didn’t care about being involved anymore.

Taehyung lingered by the door, keeping quiet as Minjun handled the unfolding situation.

It was difficult not to say anything, however, because they seemed keen on having a discussion here, yet no one was bringing up the thing that seemed the most obvious to Taehyung: the real reason why Sid cared about the Katana so much, considering that he could have easily bought twenty of them if he wanted.

Just then, Jungkook chuckled sardonically.

“You just want to win for the sake of winning,” he said, giving Minjun a grateful pat on the back and stepping out from behind him.

Taehyung was taken aback by the statement. He had assumed—perhaps unfairly—that Jungkook would resort to violence to make his point. He wasn’t expecting the younger boy to voice everything that he’d been thinking.

“You don’t care about the bike,” Jungkook continued. “You just want me to suffer. Or—oh, that’s right. She’s the one that you really want. That’s what this is about, isn’t it?”

Everyone in this empty lot behind the building, including the stray cat that monitored the scene from across the street while licking its paw, watched Sid hesitate.

Probably for the first time in his life, Sid was confronted with the unexpected increase in his heartbeat.

He scoffed. Then scoffed again. Then once more, so that everyone and their mothers would understand that he found the accusation ridiculous.

And everyone understood, really. But Sid’s fidgeting wasn’t making the point he thought it was.

“I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re implying,” he retorted. “I’ve—I always get what I want. Why the fuck would I play games about—I never fucking grovel for girls. I don’t care how hot they are—”

“Right. But not this time, hm?” Jungkook countered. “You couldn’t get what you wanted, so now you’re doing everything you can to make sure I don’t either. You want to make us both miserable.”

Sid was embarrassed, Minjun realised as he watched his jaw tighten. He was utterly humiliated that someone would accuse him of having a crush.

“No. No, that was you. You made yourself miserable,” Sid deflected. “I had no part in that.”

How pathetic, Jungkook thought—but there was a satisfied smirk on his lips. He’d seen through Sid. And he’d forced him to lose his composure. Forced him to defend himself.

Jungkook remembered your description of Sid’s appearance last night; namely the comparison to a sewer rat—which was, honestly, very unfair for the rodent in question—and couldn’t hold himself back.

“Seeing your face every day actually brings me nothing but misery,” he said to Sid, “so you can’t escape the blame there.”

Taehyung looked away and puckered his lips to hide his reaction to the immature remark. Even he had to give a point to Jungkook here. Childish or not, it was clever enough to make Sid squint his eyes and hesitate once more.

“Don’t change the subject,” Sid said, which made Jungkook smile wider. “You broke the bet. The bike is mine.”

Minjun cut in with a groan.

“Sid, for fuck’s sake,” he said, tired of listening to the same thing over and over—and over—again. “It’s just a bet, so just fucking drop it. We’ll pay off the Katana if you care so much—”

“No.” Jungkook reached out a hand to touch Minjun’s shoulder, cutting him off. He glared at Sid. “You know what? You can keep the fucking keys to the bike,” he said as he pulled the keychain from his pocket, removed it, and tossed the keys roughly at Sid’s chest. The older boy scrambled to catch them. “Choke on them for all I care.”

Despite the venom in his words, Jungkook did not lose the sneering smile, and Sid’s eye twitched when he looked at him.

It didn’t feel satisfying when he held the motorcycle keys, but Jungkook was the one who looked like he won.

Jungkook turned away before Sid could come up with another mocking comment to make him stay, and headed towards Taehyung, who looked a little confounded.

The bassist needed a moment to process that the conversation had ended because Jungkook had decided it was over.

Taehyung felt quite proud of him, and when Jungkook looked at him, he reached out to tousle his hair affectionately. Jungkook backed away from his touch with a groan but still gave him a grateful look.

Instead of entering the venue, Taehyung led Jungkook to the side of the building, gesturing at the pack of cigarettes he had in his pocket.

A puzzled Minjun caught up with them a moment later.

“Why did you do that?” he asked while Jungkook turned to watch Sid and Jude walk away—both of them looked a little awkward, like they weren’t sure if the show they’d started was really over. “Why did you give him the keys?”

“He can keep the bike,” Jungkook said. “He’s never getting anything that really matters anyway.”

Minjun and Taehyung exchanged a look. They had both heard Sid stumble over his words earlier. They could tell that Sid had hoped the bet would end with Jungkook losing you, and not just the motorcycle.

Minjun still wasn’t sure if Sid’s actions were motivated by his wish to make Jungkook suffer, or if he really had feelings for you.

But he supposed it didn’t even matter anymore. Jungkook seemed ready to go to war for you either way.

“So, what—what are you going to do?” Minjun asked.

Jungkook shrugged and stuffed his hands into his now-empty pockets.

“It’s too late to do anything,” he said, smiling at his friend. “There’ll be other bikes. I don’t—it’s not what I’m worried about.”

Minjun nodded. He knew Jungkook wasn’t thinking about Sid actually trying to make a move on you. You’d snap his neck if he tried, and leave his body for the crows and pigeons to enjoy. Everyone knew it, and they would have wholeheartedly supported your reaction.

No, what Jungkook was really worried about was that Sid might have already done irreparable damage to your relationship. Minjun had hoped to help Jungkook by talking to you, but he wasn’t sure if it was any help at all.

“Good riddance,” Taehyung said slowly. “Sid, I mean.”

“Oh, yeah,” Minjun agreed right away. “Fuck him.”

“I can’t believe he’s here, though,” Jungkook said. He turned back to make sure that Sid had really left. “You think he’ll come to Glasgow, too, just to fuck with me?”

“Honestly, he might,” Minjun admitted. “He’s got the bike, but he can tell he didn’t actually win. He might want to retaliate.”

Jungkook groaned. Despite his hopes, he feared that Minjun was right.

“What can he do, though?” Taehyung asked, taking out the Marlboro pack from the pocket of his oversized leather jacket. “He’s alone.”

“Yeah.” Minjun pointed at him in agreement. “It’ll be a while before he finds someone who will follow his orders.”

“Well,” Jungkook said as Taehyung passed his cigarettes to both boys, “Jude might.”

“Jude can’t wipe his own ass unless he’s high as a kite,” Minjun said—his vowels softened by the cigarette between his lips. “I’m fucking pissed that he left with Sid, but—I mean, there’s nothing we can do.”

Taehyung opened his engraved Zippo lighter with a crisp click. He lit his own cigarette, then did the same for Jungkook and Minjun.

“If he shows his face anywhere near us again, I’m calling the cops,” Jungkook decided, shakily inhaling the smoke. “Tonight was the last time. I gave up the bike. I don’t care whether he thinks that’s enough. There’s nothing that he can hold against me anymore. We’re done.”

Minjun smiled at this.

Truth be told, he felt a little giddy from the significance of this moment. He’d never spent any time with Jungkook’s bandmates, and he knew it was because of Sid. Taehyung would not have offered them cigarettes if the obnoxious menace had been here, so this moment felt a bit like the start of something new. Something better.

Minjun exhaled the smoke while Jungkook confessed, “I don’t know what it’ll be like with him gone, though.”

Taehyung scoffed so vehemently that the smoke from his cigarette nearly got caught in his throat.

“I know,” he said. “Better.”

Minjun smirked and Jungkook nodded in agreement, but he still looked a little pale and wide-eyed as he toyed with the cigarette between his fingers.

“We’ll be fine,” Minjun promised. “Might get bored much faster because Sid won’t be here to think of ways we could kill ourselves, but honestly, I’ll take it.”

“Yeah, no—definitely.” Jungkook tried to smile, but there was something else on the tip of his tongue. He took a deep drag and slowly blew out the smoke before speaking. “This is, um—kind of weird, I guess. I don’t think I’ve ever said this to you, but, uh—thank you. For being… for being yourself.”

Taehyung looked away, exhaling smoke into the parking lot to give the two boys more privacy without actually walking away from them.

Minjun was smiling, too. “Who else would I be?”

“You could have tried to be Sid,” Jungkook pointed out.

“Fuck no.”

They both laughed, and Taehyung stopped trying so hard to hide his smile.

For a minute, Sid’s absence was very palpable and it felt absolutely blissful.

“You’re welcome,” Minjun said, just when Taehyung offered, “another one?”

He pulled out another cigarette for himself and passed the rest to Minjun. While the two of them lit up another round, Jungkook finished his first one.

He was restless all of a sudden. This tended to happen to him, especially lately—the longer he was away from you, the harder it was not to think of you.

You’d told him you’d find him so you could talk.

What if you were looking for him? And he was wasting his time dealing with Sid’s temper tantrums again?

“I’m going to go,” he announced to the other boys as soon as the thought crossed his mind. He dropped the cigarette and stepped on it, twisting the sole of his shoe to put it out. “If those two come back, knock them out or call the police, I don’t care. I’ll see you on the bus, yeah?”

Taehyung chuckled, much calmer to let Jungkook wander off on his own now that he’d seen Sid leave with his own eyes.

“Sure,” he said, blowing smoke out. “You’ll be alright?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

As he walked towards the door, Jungkook remembered what you’d told him in Stockholm. You’d been right back then.

If he surrounded himself with people who genuinely cared about him, he would have enough voices to keep his mind calm. He would have someone to call if he was alone.

He would be okay.

Jungkook came to a sudden stop in the corridor when he heard your voice inside Rated Riot’s dressing room. The door was ajar, and he could see your profile as you leaned against the dressing table and talked to someone. He bent down to listen and recognised Luna’s voice in there, too.

“Did Nick text you again?” Luna was asking you. “After that time on the bus?”

Naturally, Jungkook froze on the other side of the door.

He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, really.

But who in the great fuck was Nick?

As quietly as he could under the circumstances—his heart had flat-lined for a second or two before breaking into the most passionate beating he’d ever experienced—Jungkook stepped to the side so you wouldn’t spot him through the gap in the door, and strained to listen.

“Yeah,” you replied with a sigh. Were you always this quiet when you spoke, or was he going deaf from his rapid heartbeat? “He texted me this morning. I didn’t reply, I was—well, with Jungkook.”

Now, Jungkook thought as he paled to match the plaster on the walls of the corridor, what—the absolute fuck—was that supposed to mean?

“But, uh, he said he’d like to arrange a formal meeting with me,” you continued, and the dressing table creaked as you moved away from it, “when he comes back from Australia with Reconnaissance.”

The terrified lightbulb at the end of the corridor flickered erratically as Jungkook frowned.

Nick Zhou—your supervisor at your first internship after graduation—returned to his memory. Jungkook had heard enough to understand that Nick managed Reconnaissance now.

That probably meant that you weren’t seeing anyone else. But Jungkook wasn’t sure if he was relieved by this.

“Are you going to go to this meeting?” Luna asked.

Good question, Jungkook thought. And then, immediately after—please say no. Please say no. Please say no.

“I… I don’t know. I think I should,” you said. Jungkook dug his nails into the pillows of his palms. “All our conversations about this had been over the phone, you know? I think it might be good to hear him out properly, face-to-face.”

“So, you’re really considering this then, huh?” Luna said.

You were quiet for a very long time.

Jungkook measured each second of your silence in the beats of his heart: bang-bang-bang, one, bang-bang-bang, two, bang-bang-bang, three.

“I guess I am,” you finally said. “N-not because I suddenly decided I don’t want to work with Rated Riot anymore. I just—well, in light of everything that happened, I think that hearing Nick out just seems like a… reasonable thing to do.”

Jungkook decided he’d heard enough.

He thought he knew what you would say next. He knew what happened. He knew what this “everything” was.

His immaturity. His constant dependence on you.

His tendency to fail at everything that he tried to do for you.

His inability to prove that he deserved another chance with you.

Finally, the bet.

So, there it was, then. He’d always been terrified of letting you down, and he did that anyway.

Exhaling shakily, Jungkook turned around and crossed the corridor toward the main exit where the tour bus was parked.

You were supposed to talk. Now he wasn’t sure if he’d find what to say.

If Jungkook hadn’t walked away, however—if he’d stayed for a minute longer—he would have heard what Taehyung caught as he returned to the dressing room, biting on the filter of a new cigarette.

“If it really came down to it, then—you know,” you were saying, “I-I couldn’t be with him, and still be his manager at the same time.”

The door creaked.

“Oh.” Taehyung stopped in the doorway, not sure if he was more surprised by your words or by the unexpected noise from the door. “Sorry, am I—? I can leave.”

You had been cleaning up backstage when Luna joined you after she lost track of Taehyung. That made you realise that you hadn’t seen him or Jungkook in a while. But now that Taehyung was here, the two of you looked at him as if you had never seen him before in your lives.

The expression on Taehyung’s face was not at all ambiguous. He knew what he’d just heard. You hadn’t used Jungkook’s name, but he was everywhere in this room and in your eyes.

Noting your expression and the way the can of beer in your hands began to tremble, Luna slid off the couch and walked over to her boyfriend.

“We were looking for you!” she exclaimed with far more anger than she actually felt. “Where were you?”

“I was—Jungkook and I just—we stepped outside for a second,” he said as he pulled his cigarette out of his mouth and tucked it behind his ear. “Sorry.”

“You could have texted,” Luna said, her voice rushed. She glanced at you over her shoulder. “We were just about to head back to the bus, weren’t we? That’s what we were discussing.”

“Right,” Taehyung said. “Well, I didn’t hear anything else.”

God, you thought. The three of you were the main cast in a poorly scripted tragicomedy all of a sudden.

“Yeah, we should go,” you said, hoping that the warmth you felt all over your body didn’t show on your face—it didn’t. But your panicked gaze still gave you away. “We’re leaving in half an hour. Is he on the bus?”

Again, the pronoun that did not need an explanation—Taehyung nodded right away.

“Yeah, he—he was on his way there,” he said.

“Okay,” you replied. “You can go. I’ll pack the rest of our things first.”

“We’ll help,” Luna offered. “You need to rest as much as possible.”

You were afraid she would say that. But she and Taehyung began to gather the empty paper cups and the staff members’ forgotten phones before you could object.

Stunned momentarily, you realised—like Jungkook had before—that you were surrounded by people who loved you.

And you were afraid, suddenly, to lose this if you left to work with Reconnaissance. Just like you were afraid of what would happen between you and Jungkook if you didn’t leave.

The hopelessness of the situation stayed with Jungkook as he got on the bus.

He chose not to wait for you, and instead went to the mini-fridge to find Jack Daniels. And while looking for that, he also befriended Jim Beam and Johnnie Walker. Jose Cuervo was, sadly, already almost empty.

When you opened the door of the bus half an hour later—surprised (and a little concerned) to see that it was empty—Jungkook was already feeling a pleasant buzz. He wasn’t quite drunk, but he definitely wasn’t sober as he stumbled a little while trying to climb out of his bunk and stretch his legs outside before the trip.

The alcohol had dulled the pain a little—as it was notorious for doing—but he still flinched when he saw the door open and heard your voice outside the bus.

“You need help standing?” you asked—louder than he had anticipated—and he spun on his axis, gripping the stair railing to steady himself.

He was happy to see you. And so tremendously hurt.

“Nope,” he said, licking his lips. “I’m perfect.”

“Where’s everyone else?” you asked.

“Flat tire,” Jungkook mumbled, slurring the consonants as he joined you outside the bus. “Driver said we’d be here for another hour. He doesn’t have a spare. Everyone else went—for a smoke, I don’t know.”

His eye patch had slid off and was caught in his messy hair. But the bandages around his eye had remained in place.

His scent was whiskey, but the look in his eyes was sober pain.

You were a little afraid of him like this because you didn’t know what he would tell you next.

“Mmhm,” you said. “And, uh—how come we’re drinking tonight?”

“Ah.” He chuckled. “We have our reasons.”

You waited for him to continue by counting the dark pebbles under your shoes. He leaned his back against the metal railing of the bus steps and gave you a long look.

“Sid’s here,” he said.

You looked up, aghast. Terror was the first thing you felt, and aggravation followed shortly after.

“What?” you questioned. “How?”

“He followed me to Manchester for the Katana,” Jungkook explained. “Minjun had given me back the keys, and Sid found out about it.”

“I thought you had—”

“I had,” he confirmed. He’d triple-checked with Mick to make sure Sid was really banned. “He couldn’t enter the venue, so Jude texted me to come outside. Mick suggested calling the police.”

You liked Mick. Everyone did. He was the quiet backbone of this entire tour.

But you didn’t like that Jungkook seemed to disagree with Mick’s suggestion.

“Why didn’t you?” you asked slowly. You thought you understood why Jungkook decided to finish off the most expensive bottles of whiskey that you had on the bus. Sid’s unexpected reappearance was a good reason to drink.

“I would have,” he said. “But I gave Sid the keys and he left. He’s got no reason to come back now. We’re done.”

You appreciated the cold wind on your face, because learning that Jungkook had given up his Katana willingly—to get Sid off his back for good—was painful. It felt heavy in your chest and in your lungs.

“Oh,” you managed.

“I really mean it. If he decides to show his face again despite that, I’m—I’m letting Mick handle it,” Jungkook promised. “He can call the cops or do whatever else he wants. Sid wanted to win the bet, well, he won it. I’m not going to see him again. I really mean it.”

His voice grew in volume despite getting hoarse. He was so distressed that he was nearing hysteria.

It occurred to you that he thought you would blame him for this. Like it was his fault that Sid was so dedicated to his craft of being a pest that he travelled across Europe for it.

“I’m not saying one word to him ever again,” Jungkook continued, all his words coming out in one breath. “I’m—I’m done. I swear. I’m not going—”

“I know,” you cut in softly before his panicked rambling could get worse. “I believe you.”

“I—” he stopped. His face regained some liveliness. “Thank you.”

“Is that your reason for drinking?” you asked, even though, deep down, you knew it wasn’t. “I thought we were supposed to talk.”

“I thought so, too,” he said, then inhaled sharply and plopped down on the bottom step, banging his thigh against the metal railing and wincing in pain. “Shit. But then I thought—I thought I’d rather get drunk than have my heart shattered. So here we are.”

Your stomach plummeted and the muscles all over your body jolted awake.

“What—what are you talking about?” you asked, looking around. Taehyung and Luna wanted to grab some snacks at the corner shop across the street, but you were still worried they’d catch you here.

Jungkook rested his head against the door frame.

“I’m... really, I’m tired of everything,” he said with a sigh. “I shouldn’t have messed around. I should have been honest with you about—about everything right away.”

You leaned your hip against the side of the bus. You appreciated him talking to you now, but you both knew that this hadn’t always been the case.

“You... should have been,” you concurred awkwardly.

“But I wasn’t,” he finished. “And now I’m too tired to keep trying. To keep knocking on a—the door is closed. Locked. I get it. You say you believe me, but I know the truth. I really fucked up. Not just with the—with the bet. I never treated you right. You do so much. You take care of everyone in your life.” He paused to take a breath. “And I’ve always been another fucking burden. I won’t—I won’t be that anymore. You won’t need to take care of me anymore. I promise.”

You looked at him with a worried wrinkle between your brows. “Jungkook, I’m your manager—”

“You’re my everything,” he cut you off and brought goosebumps to the surface of your skin. “But I’ve been fucking awful to you. You deserve so much better. I’m so—I’m so sorry. I have no right to—to expect you to come back to me. B-but I want to show you that I can be different. I want to show you the guy that I am without Sid. You know that guy. You know what he’s like. I want to show him to you again.”

You swallowed as your eyes drifted from his face to the rough gravel under your shoes, to the door of the venue, and eventually settled on your own crossed arms.

You felt tired, too, but this wasn’t what you were expecting to hear from him. You wondered what brought this on so suddenly.

“I really don’t want you to leave,” he continued. You straightened, realising what this was about. “But I… I understand if you will. I’ve always been selfish when it comes to you, but if I want—I want you to see that I’m growing. And because of that, I can’t hold you back.”

Your heart was beating too much, too intensely, too desperately for you to respond.

It felt—and, evidently, your heart realised it before your brain did—like Jungkook was making the decision about the rest of your life for you. A decision that you didn’t want to make.

“It’s over,” he said. “I get it. But the band loves you. We need you. You’re our—we’re nothing without you. We’re not Rated Riot. But we—the guys wouldn’t force you to stay. And I know I can’t do that, either. So, if leaving the band is the right choice for you… then you should go. You should always do what’s best for you. I wish I was what was best for you, but I’m not. Actually, I don’t think there’s anyone who would be good enough for you in my eyes, but—”

“Jungkook, please,” you finally whispered—the words painful on your numb tongue.

“Right, sorry,” he pulled back. You were afraid that if you closed your eyes, you wouldn’t be able to hear him anymore. “What I mean is, you deserve the best, and I’m so fucking far from it. I love you so much, but I don’t know if that’s enough. I just—I want you to know that if you decide to stay with us, I’ll never let you down again. But if you choose to go… I-I would understand. Ultimately, it’s your choice, as it should be.”

He stopped talking and allowed the night to fill the silence.

You didn’t know what was going to happen next.

He’d told you a lot over the past few days. He brought back a lot of memories, a lot of mistakes. And now he was taking action, too, to make sure to fix those mistakes. To make sure he didn’t repeat them.

He made a bet with Sid.

And this bet tried to prove that he still hadn’t changed, that his friends were still his main priority. But he black-listed Sid from Rated Riot’s shows and gave up his bike to make sure Sid didn’t come back.

The bet tried to prove that the two of you still couldn’t communicate. But he told you everything that he had been too afraid to say in your relationship.

The bet tried to prove that he didn’t really care about you. But he stayed with you when you were feeling your best and when you were at your most vulnerable.

The bet tried to prove that he only cared about himself. But after telling you how much he loved you, he was letting you go.

Again and again and again his words echoed in your head.

The determined I’ll be here, and the tentative It’s a song about my favourite thing in the world.

The terrified I can’t lose you, and the confident I’ll always love you.

You didn’t want to believe him when he had told you he loved you—and that was what this was about.

You were afraid of what it would mean—of what would happen—if all that there was to it, if all that hid under your uncertainty, was just your love for each other.

Minjun had made a reasonable point when he asked whether you were upset about the bet or about Jungkook’s feelings.

Perhaps the bet had quickly turned into an easy excuse not to be together. It was bad, it was awful, it was so terrible—but all it really did was provide a comfortable cover for your own fear and anxiety about him. About yourself. About you, together.

In retrospect, probably the worst repercussion of the bet was that it returned the two of you to the same place you were in before you learned about it. The place where you both wanted each other—so much—but you couldn’t.

As the silence continued to envelop the bus, competing with the night for dominance, it swallowed the sounds of the distant chatter of the people nearby.

You pulled back from the bus. It was time to stand up. Time to go.

“Come on,” you said quietly. “It’s getting cold.”

Jungkook looked at you from the bottom step by the door, and you realised that he’d been wrong that night in Manchester when he said that your favourite thing in the world was the night sky.

It wasn’t.

It was the stars—whole constellations, each formed after a specific moment in life—and the moon, and half of an entire galaxy in his eyes.

It was the way they brightened when he smiled at you, and the way they narrowed when you teased him. It was the way they stilled when he was listening to you speak, and the way they softened when he saw you at every venue. At every practice. Every soundcheck. Every concert. Every hotel. Every empty European street. Every night, and every morning. Year, after year, after year, after—

Your hands trembled as you watched him, realising with a startled burst in your chest that he loved you. He has loved you for as long as you’ve known him.

And against all odds, against all rational thoughts and fateful coincidences, against all wishes upon stars, you realised that you’ve always loved him, too.

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, standing up. “Let’s go.”

chapter title credits: the devil wears prada, “salt”

prev ○ next

[hanafubukki]

*breaks your door with an axe in the shape of bat and peeks inside* hey.

So! I got hungry for soft Lilia and baby silver with a Yuu that accidentally space time traveled in the wrong direction for a couple of days.

And for a couple of days they help take care of a baby silver, with a moody malleus showing up from time to time in the span of the weekend Yuu stayed.

So cottage core family moments! From preparing Silvers milk/food to telling certain dragon to stop staring from outside with a threating look so Yuu doesn’t put anything sus in the food.

“Malleus, please, stop! If you want, you can come in and help with the cooking”

“Help? How bold of you human, asking the prince that so humbly allows you to exist in this land, to help you with a task reserved to who are my servants,”

“Shame, I was going to ask you to be my taste tester for the ice cream. Guess I can ask Lilia,”

“But I am kind and I will assist you in your cooking endeavors!”

Yuu’s food is too good to pass for MalMal, as Yuu knows exactly what to put that he likes whenever he comes over! Which is almost every day.

He may be a prince, but no one is mighty enough to not lick the cake batter from the bowl.

Hello Anonie 🌺🌻💚

With all of you breaking down my door, I think I’m going to be cold this rainy winter 🤣🤣

…do you think Diasomnia will let me stay with them? 😆💞 also, can I have that axe I want to use it on the senate 🤣 (at least you didn’t go “here’s Johnny!”)

You are speaking my love language because yes!! Time travel shenanigans my love!!

Malleus adores Silver. He would see you and remember the stories he heard about human and would be extra protective. Lilia says it’s fine. You have the blessing of the night fae on you. Fae can tell when people lie and you have spoken nothing but the truth.

Haven’t given them details of the future, but he can’t blame you for being precautious.

Even so, Malleus keeps his guard up until, well, you bribe him.

You had seen all sides of Malleus Draconia from your time at NRC, that whole dream fiasco, and even beyond that.

But this side? The very protective and yet slightly rebellious side? Was new to you. You kind of enjoyed this more expressive Malleus.

You definitely enjoyed taking care of baby Silver. He was beyond precious and such a happy baby.

You can see why Lilia loves his sons so much. Both of them are adorable.

A part of you wanted to stay, wanted to enjoy this tranquility.

But no, you couldn’t.

You had so much waiting for you in the future.

These little ones will grow into fine men.

A lover who you adore with your whole heart.

You couldn’t wait until you returned to your time, so you can tease them.

“I see Malleus warmed up to you.”

“Not with any help from you.”

Lilia laughed, “I knew you could handle it.”

“Father’s intuition?”

“A bit of that and something else.”

With the way Lilia eyed the chain around your neck, you knew he had an idea.

The chain held your wedding ring.

Your husband always was a cheeky and smart one even during the NRC days, baring a certain event that is.

Smart bat dad.

You opened your eyes to fluttering kisses all over your face.

“Welcome back, Precious.”

You pulled Lilia down into a kiss.

“I’m back.”

☺️🌺🌻 Surprise! They are married and you were from a further future beyond nrc time.

[velvetwyrme]

Um hi!! I just wanted to say I fucking love your work and everything you do and I’m so glad to say that you have officially made me into a papyri lover and I request that you continue to feed me with your amazing art and writing😇 (I’m literally folding for Rus and Dare’s relationship and not to mention Flipping fate has honestly got me hooked and never letting me go)

Also! If it’s not a bother do you have any tips on drawing the two skeleton brothers? (Aus don’t rly matter!) I just adore how you do it (sketches and the finished product) and I just wanted to ask ;,)

WAHHH THANKUUU 💖💖 Welcome to the ranks of Papyri lovers...!! (APOLOGIES IVE BEEN SLACKING ON THE PAPYRI CONTENT ;w; [and also. literally anything in general recently agdjcbdk]) ALSO sorry this took like. months to reply to agahamjdbhsmf,jj,,,, I made a whole thing. and then accidentally deleted said thing? so I had to remake it after moping for like a month.

Anyway, here is. a very messy breakdown and some tips!! That are hopefully helpful!!! It's mostly about faces but if you're interested I can also get into the nitty gritty of drwing skeletons but these are like. Sans and Papyrus specific parts (so mostly their skulls lol)

Skulls are both weirdly round, and weirdly angular (a sentiment that I read in a fic once and committed to heart apparently. Like... yeah. They ARE weirdly round and angled.) As always shape language is your friend (real bouba and kiki moments)

Sans has more of a... chibi face shape LMAO. If you've drawn those before it makes drawing him a lil easier imo. As for Papyrus...

He's a pain!! He's got lots of expressions and I usually have to redraw his face like sixteen times. His eyes are just like 2 fucking vertical lines and yet. AND YET. My beloved boy is so difficult. At least he has very expressive eyebrows. I also use the corners of his mouth to give him more range of expressiveness since he has no lips! Also the lines for his "individual" teeth... I can take it or leave it. Sometimes it works sometimes it doesn't!

I only give Papyrus lower eyelids because if you give him upper eyelids/lidded sockets he looks like Underswap Paps LMAO,,

Sans on the other hand has "lips" but doesn't use them hrkfhdk,, I always make sure to give him the little holes at the corners of his mouth as well.

Also that's all about their heads/faces so here's a note about how I do bodies which is. Shapes. These two are so Shaped.

Seriously though the best thing to do is just to try emulate other people's artstyles or pick out parts of them that you like and incorporate them into your works. Like how someone draws Sans' eyes? Try it and apply it!!

People also tend to draw the skeletons with slightly different facial proportions, so experiment with that and see what you like as well! I've gotten pretty good at eyeballing it and drawing them directly (with the exception of Papyrus around 40% of the time, wherein I have to redraw his face sixteen times before it looks good).

[miriamladyvoid]

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Between Flowers and Tangles | P x reader

I thought of a line of thought that P wants to woo the reader and that one form of wooing is to give flowers; the problem is that they didn't explain to him what kind of flora and fauna should be given as a gift as a bouquet and he does things like:

On his first attempt, P arrived at the hotel with an entire tree that he had uprooted from some random place. He held it with both hands, smiling proudly, while Gemini is desperately trying not to laugh.

Determined to improve, Pinocchio chose to collect flowers and herbs, not knowing that some were poisonous. He unintentionally caused a slight allergy to the reader, prompting him to apologize profusely.

On a third try, P decided that twigs with small leaves and spider webs were a safer option. At least, they weren't poisoun, he thought to himself.

He immersed himself in books, trying to figure out what he should include in a bouquet. After a crossroads between chaos and Krat's destruction, he found a small, but living, flower.

Very carefully, he plucked the flower from the ground and placed it in his bag, trying to protect it as if it were a valuable treasure, ready to carry it safely back to the hotel.

Upon arriving at the hotel, clumsily but gently, he handed the small flower to the reader. The next morning, a pot with the same flower appeared in the reader's room.

He saw the flower in the reader's bedroom, and felt the gears of his heart beating at full speed. So he decided to bring them little flowers little by little. Although it was a difficult and tedious task, every time he saw the reader's sweet smile, he knew it was worth it.

Sometimes, Pinocchio added small stones of curious shapes that he found in his travels. Although they were not flowers, they had some charm.

Little by little, the reader's room was filled with small pots of flowers (which miraculously survived in Krat), giving a touch of life and color to the place. All carefully attended to with the love and affection of a certain human.

Each flower was Pinocchio's silent way of expressing his love and devotion. Because, although he did not know how to express his feelings in words, his mechanical heart was full of love to give.

The hotel residents used to smile when they saw P return covered in dirt and mud, but with a spark of excitement in his eyes when he brought new flowers. Although Gemini wasn't so pleased that his lamp got dirty in the process.

But he wanted to do something bigger. So he gathered a considerable amount of flowers and, with the help of Gemini, he tried to put together a bouquet. Gemini, with a mixture of patience and desperation, suggested that he decorate it with a ribbon or wrap it in paper. "No, Pinocchio, we can't add metal parts or a weapon, much less Spring!"

With the bouquet in his hand, Pinocchio walked excitedly towards the reader's room. He knocked on the door and hid the bouquet behind his back. The reader received it with a smile, and Pinocchio, with a gesture full of tenderness, revealed the beautiful bouquet that he had made with so much effort.

Seeing the blush and happiness on the reader's face, He knew that everything had been worth it. Just as he was about to leave, he felt the reader's soft caress on his cheek and a chaste kiss on the lips that left him completely stunned, his circuits almost shorted out.

The only witnesses of that magical kiss were the charming flowers, pampered with such dedication, and of course, Gemini, who, although accidental, was the third wheel in that romantic moment.

But, being a Gemini, he couldn't resist the temptation and muttered shamelessly: "If you need a mood lamp for more romance, just let me know, I'll be here… with the spotlight off, of course."

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Banners created by miriamladyvoid© Feel free to use; please, reblog, and credit banners.

©Miriamladyvoid 2024. do not steal my work plz…☕︎

Language of the flowers of each Banner:

First Banner: White Rose: Purity and Loveliness. Second Banner: Honeysuckle Azalea: Ties of Love. Third Banner: Satin Flower, Lunaria: Admiration.

[meowzfordayz]

when you're feeling insecure about scar tissue — kyojuro, sanemi, giyuu

Author’s Note: just lil moments of comfort. 🥺 You, your lover, scarring (from a burn), and reassurance. ❤️‍🩹 Ngl, Giyuu’s is pretty brief, but sweet nonetheless. 😅💙

when you’re feeling insecure about scar tissue — kyojuro, sanemi, giyuu

Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader, Shinazugawa Sanemi x Reader, Tomioka Giyuu x Reader

Word Count: ~1,300

CW: explicit language, traumatic references

Emergency Request Fulfilled: i kinda accidentally burned myself and had to go to the hospital🤠 and the doctor basically said that my arm is going to have a huge scar on it & i’ve been feeling really insecure about it bc like…it’s kind of a permanent alteration of what my skin looks like lol

i guess i was maybe hoping for some sanemi comfort? idk if that sounds stupid or not but he was the first character that came to mind when this happened to me haha Suggestion Fulfilled: I have a request for Giyuu and if you'd like, anyone else you feel like doing. I have any scars I have insecure of, but I love this one burn scar that is shaped like a butterfly near my collar bone from a pretty traumatic incident (But I think I'm good now???), and I was wondering what he would think of it.

~faqs~

“If you insist on keeping your feelings to yourself, then I may be forced to kiss them out of you,” Kyojuro declares, body emanating a secure heat despite the warning edge in his tone.

Glancing up from your book, you offer him a wry grin, “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

He frowns, mouth twisting in focus, comforter slipping off his shoulder as he scoots closer to you, his hair a soft, simmering ember in the yellow light of your bedside lamp.

“Am I so difficult to talk to?” he asks quietly, your hands instinctively closing your book at the shade of seriousness in his lowered voice, eyes tentatively raising to meet his steady gaze, “Am I unworthy of sharing your troubles?”

“Of course you’re worthy,” you reply lightly, melting in the tender embrace of his expression, “I just… it’s not a big deal,” you shrug, about to reopen your book when a large, warm palm stops you, curving to cup your knuckles while his frown deepens.

“I want to be here for you.”

Something about the hint of pleading in his statement makes your chest twinge, guilt darkening the haunch of your posture, the mattress feeling too small yet too vast for the both of you. The urge to shrug him off again clambers up your throat, the grounding anchor of his touch keeping it from spilling off the tip of your tongue. You sigh.

“Does that sound mean you are ready to confide in me?”

“You’re annoyingly persistent, is what it means,” you mutter fondly, “I swear, it’s not a big deal.”

He huffs, squeezing your fingers as affection smooths his frown, earnest now, “Whatever it is, big or little, important or fleeting, I want to be here for you.”

“Okay,” you groan, unable to wiggle away from his triumphant chuckle, “I was just feeling insecure about my burn scar earlier, that’s it. See! Not a big de-”

“I love your burn scar!” he interrupts brightly, “It may not fit your preferred aesthetic, but it is simply a part of you, and I happen to cherish all of you!”

“My preferred aesthetic?” you deadpan, eyes rolling with amusement.

“Not all scars are beautiful, but perhaps they do not have to be.”

“Did you just imply that my scar is ugly?” you exclaim, playfully jabbing at his legs with your toes, “I thought you were supposed to help me feel better!”

Flabbergasted, Kyojuro blinks helplessly, casually trapping your feet between his shins while his head tilts in confusion, “Is the truth insufficient?”

“What does that even mean?!” you wail, jokingly bumping your forehead against his arm as though it was a wall.

“Well,” he begins carefully, “The way I see it, a scar is a scar. Nothing more, nothing less. And you are nothing less for having one! …” he trails off, uncertainty pursing his lips as he blushes faintly, “I am unsure how to make this romantic… I only wish to assure you that your scar is fine.”

“Y’know what,” you grumble, “let’s cuddle and call it a night. I suddenly feel more secure about my scar.”

“Really?” his brow furrows, “How so?”

“You love me, right?”

“Absolutely!” he nods, releasing your feet, smiling when you promptly tuck them back into the warmth of his legs.

“And your love-”

“Has never been dependent on your physical appearance,” he interjects solemnly.

“So whatever,” you yawn, attention finally returning to your long forgotten book, “This is silly.”

With an agreeable hum, Kyojuro murmurs gently, “You were on page 237.”

“And this is why I keep you around.”

“You’re thinking too hard,” Sanemi grumbles, body propped up against the kitchen island on folded arms, voice low with morning grogginess, “I’ve never seen someone stir their coffee so aggressively.”

“So close your eyes,” you retort, standing across from him, tucking a yawn into your hand, “I can stir my coffee however I please.”

“I’m not denying that,” he chuckles roughly, slowly blinking away sleep as he says pointedly, “But how about you take it out on me instead of your poor beverage?”

You huff, “My poor beverage doesn’t have any feelings,” taking a tentative sip from your steaming mug, “You do.”

“And?” he scoffs, grinning lazily, “I can handle your feelings.”

“How about you handle breakfast,” you smirk, “And then we’ll dissect my feelings.”

“Bossy,” Sanemi mutters, heading to the fridge nonetheless, “Bossy, and an aggressive stirrer of coffee.”

“You love me,” you shrug, winking playfully, “Which is why you’re worried about me.”

“And also why I’m about to cook us breakfast,” he sighs, placing a carton of eggs near the stove, “‘Course I’m worried about you, you have that little dent between your eyebrows going on.”

Snorting softly, you wait until his back turns away again, grabbing a pan, picking a spatula (you have waaay too many), turning on a burner, his fingers wrapping around the neck of the olive oil bottle when you quietly confess.

“I’m thinking about the scarring from my burn,” you hesitate, sensing the tension in Sanemi’s jaw. He cracks an egg. The pan sizzles. You continue, “And I’m… I’m feeling… insecure. Different.”

“You might appear different,” he remarks, cracking another egg, “And that’s life.”

You nod to yourself, about to hurry past the awkwardness with an ill-timed dad joke When life gives you eggs, scramble them! when he gently tacks on, “You’ve seen me shirtless, looked at my face. You love me. My scars too. Sure, I’ve had more time to adjust to them, and yeah, they still bother me, but life goes on. Trauma, joy, and all their scars.”

“But Nemi,” you whisper, “Am I beautiful?”

He laughs loudly at that, whirling around to fix a stern glare on your glassy eyes, spatula wagging scoldingly in your direction.

“Do you lie to me?” he asks simply, “Every time you tell me I’m beautiful?”

You frown immediately at the mere suggestion, shaking your head adamantly.

“So there you go. You see me, and you love me. I see you, and I love you. And we’ll have this conversation as many times as you need.”

When he sets your plate in front of you, the first things you notice are the pepper and salt sprinkled hearts atop your eggs.

—

“Gee, what an incredible chef! One super salty egg, and one super peppery egg!”

“Shut the fuck up, you ungrateful dumbass.”

“Does it ever hurt?” Giyuu murmurs, standing behind you as he stares at you in the tiny patch of wiped off mirror, bathroom still hazy with condensation.

“Not really,” you smile lightly, cheeks warming as he rests his chin on your damp shoulder, wet strands of hair tickling your neck, “Not anymore.”

He hums softly, “That’s good,” fingertips collecting water droplets up the sides of your arms, “It looks pretty,” carefully stepping back to readjust the hastily tucked towel around his waist, “Pretty, but painful.”

You nod in agreement, reaching out to open the door a crack, “It was,” smile brightening as Giyuu’s face gradually becomes clearer and clearer, condensation dissipating as cool air seeps into the heated space, “But now I carry a butterfly with me, wherever I go.”

“And what about me?” his eyes gleam playfully, gently tugging at your waist till you’ve spun around to face him, “Do I get to carry anything cool?” contorting his body to display his various scars, skin pink and soft from the shower.

“Hm…” you pretend to contemplate deeply, nose crinkling before you flick his chest with a decisive snort, “Maybe a blob? Or a straight line drawn by a toddler?”

Giyuu pouts, “You’re so rude,” promptly spinning you back around, ignoring your cute squeak as he grabs a second towel to pat dry his hair, “I totally have a cool lightning scar… somewhere.”

[moonylvs]

Be Careful!

Summary: You get a new piercing and the guys find out and maybe they worry a little too much!

This was a request!: 'Hello! Could you possible do a romantic Jegulus x reader who's obsessed with getting piercings and maybe the boys are freaked about watching her get one or keep accidentally hitting her new piercing and hurting them?' I think I changed the idea a bit but I hope you like it, anon!

Pairing: Jegulus x Reader

Words: 1.5k

ⓘ Warnings: None I think? mostly fluff! Use of yn once (English is not my first language so I'm sorry for the mistakes, I hope this doesn't stop you from enjoying the story!)

Piercings were nothing new to you, you'd had a few done over the years, mostly in your ears, you thought they were cute and you had a million earrings that you swapped out over the days.

But most of these piercings you had made before you started dating James and Regulus, so they never saw when you made them or the days that followed.

James absolutely adored them, when you cuddled he would watch and play with them, Regulus loved them too, sometimes he had even given you some earrings in the shape of a star or with thin chains as a gift.

That day you decided that you wanted to try another kind of piercing, not one on your ears, you thought about one on your lip or maybe your nose, but you didn't know how much the teachers at school would like it so you preferred not to risk it.

After a while of thinking you finally decided and hours later you had your piercing, it was one in the belly button, it wasn't painful and they told you it would heal fast, which reassured you.

You didn't tell anyone that you were getting it done, not thinking it would be important, besides you thought of giving James and Regulus a little surprise.

But that day you didn't have time to say anything, James was stuck practicing on the Quidditch pitch and Regulus had to tutor a third year boy.

You didn't think much of it, you waited until they were both free to tell them.

That moment came relatively quickly, because the next day after breakfast James invited you to Hogsmaede, he said he had already told Regulus so the three of you would meet there.

It didn't take you long to get ready, putting on a skirt and a not too tight white blouse, you didn't want your clothes to be rubbing against the piercing and cause you pain.

When you arrived at Hogsmaede you could almost instantly spot James and Regulus, who were sitting on a bench in front of a Honeydukes.

Regulus didn't take long to notice you, smiling slightly, his eyes sparkling at the sight of you.

James followed after, smiling broadly and standing up, walking over to you and wrapping his arms around you.

“Hi love” Jmaes said sweetly, leaving a kiss on your forehead and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You smiled instantly, wrapping your arms around his neck and sinking into his arms, for a moment you forgot about your piercing, but quickly remembered it, as you felt a twinge of pain the moment your body touched James'.

“Ouch!” you couldn't help but let out a low gasp of pain as you felt the contact, instantly James pulled away, his brow furrowing with concern, in a second Regulus was already at his side, looking at you with the same concern.

“What happened? Did I hurt you?” James asked instantly, looking you over from head to foot for any sign of discomfort or harm, James thought maybe he had hugged you too tightly or had been too rough.

“No, no, I'm fine” You said instantly, giving him a reassuring little smile. “It's just that I accidentally crushed my piercing when we hugged” You said with some amusement, but only earned a confused look from both boys.

“Piercing?” Regulus asked with confusion, looking at your ears in search of a new piercing, but his brow furrowed as he didn't notice any new ones, he knew your piercings by memory so he would have noticed if there was a new one.

You couldn't help the slight chuckle you let out when you saw their confused faces, but you simply nodded.

“Mhm” You mumbled, lifting your white blouse very slightly so they could see your belly button, which had an earring that was silver and had a pretty light blue gem.

Both boys' eyes instantly widened, staring at the piercing in your belly button.

They were both silent for a moment, just watching it, they were totally shocked.

“Why didn't you tell us you were getting a new piercing?” Regulus said abruptly, his brow slightly furrowed and his voice sounding more serious than he intended.

Your brow furrowed instantly, watching him with some annoyance, did you have to tell them when you wanted to do something to your body?

“Why would I have to tell you?” You said with confusion and harshness, though your tone didn't sound entirely annoyed.

Regulus' face changed to one of confusion, he now understood that the question had sounded very bad and his tone of voice hadn't helped.

James noticed the tension instantly and quickly interjected.

“He didn't mean it like that!” James said instantly with some concern, making a denial sign with his hands, to which Regulus nodded instantly, his face paling slightly now he realized that you had definitely taken his question the wrong way.

“I meant why didn't you tell us so we could go with you or at least know so we wouldn't hurt you, like now” Regulus explained calmly.

Your face instantly relaxed, now you understood everything better.

“It was something out of the blue, I just wanted to do it and I didn't have time to tell you, I thought it would be a surprise” You said calmly, your face slightly embarrassed by the way you had reacted earlier.

“It suits you” Regulus said, tilting his head sideways and smiling slightly.

You could only smile brightly, feeling your cheeks flush red.

James next to him smiled too, but for a moment his face turned worried, now that he knew you had a piercing he felt bad for hugging you so tightly.

“I didn't hurt you, did I? God, I hugged you so hard didn't I? I'm sorry, if I had known-” James quickly began to say, repeating over and over again how sorry he was that he hurt you.

You couldn't help the giggle that came out of you at seeing him so worried, your hand went to his cheek, instantly silencing him.

“I'm fine, James, it was just a light brush, you didn't hurt me, okay?” you said softly, lightly caressing his cheek and leaving a kiss on his mouth.

“Are you sure?” James asked with a little pout, still worried that he might have caused you some pain.

“Mhm, but maybe a kiss would make me feel better” You said with a small amused smile, looking at his lips for a moment.

You didn't have to tell James twice, in a second his lips were on yours, leaving a soft kiss, his hands were on your waist, making sure to keep distance between both bodies, he didn't want to make the same mistake twice.

Regulus next to you just watched the two of you with affection, a small smile on his face at how careful and sweet James was.

“God forbid yn decides to get a lip piercing because that will be the end of you” Regulus muttered towards James with amusement when you and James finally broke away from the kiss.

James couldn't help but laugh, even though he himself knew that would be the end of him, the boy couldn't go a day without even giving you a kiss.

You instantly laughed, then moved closer to Regulus, cupping his cheek and leaving a kiss on his lips.

“Don't even mention it because I know you would suffer the same” You said with amusement, to which Regulus' cheeks turned pink, although he tried to hide it immediately, rolling his eyes.

The next few days were torture for both of them, James barely hugged you for fear of hurting you, but Regulus had found ways to stay glued to you, he spent most of the time holding your hand, or sitting you on his lap with his hands on your legs and not on your stomach.

James spent most of the time on top of you, watching you not to hurt yourself, you had tried to tell him that it wasn't necessary, that it wasn't even painful and he didn't have to worry so much.

But simply said, James didn't give a shit.

James spent all his time with you, walking in front of you in the corridors so that no one would accidentally hit you, always making sure that the clothes you wore weren't too tight so that you wouldn't hurt your piercing.

Regulus was a bit more reasonable, the boy asked you to let him take care of your piercing, to which you said yes, it was one less load and Regulus was very delicate.

Every day, when you woke up and before you went to sleep Regulus would clean your piercing, using soap and water with a wet washcloth, being careful not to hurt you, the black-haired boy would take his time and James would stand by and watch him the whole time, muttering a “Be careful, Reg” every now and then, to which Regulus would just roll his eyes, saying he was being careful.

The next few weeks it was like this, even though their concern was extreme for something so insignificant, you were grateful to both of them, because you were able to spend more time with them and enjoyed their care.

Although probably after a few weeks, you had started to get sick of the phrase "Be careful!"

This is so cute! I feel like I may have strayed a bit from the original idea of the request but I hope you like it! xoxo