#and a part of me still misses them and hopes that the past version of them still exist

[greens-spilled-tea]

Another 3am rambling, this time about my ex friend group.

I remember one day, my best friend (who would eventually become my queerplatonic partner, who I would eventually break up with) came up to me and mentioned how another friend said I was "cringe". I'd never heard the term used in that way before, I'd only ever heard the word "cringey" as used to describe someone else. I asked her what she meant by that. She said, "you know, how like... a lot of your actions are cringe-y? that makes you cringe."

"No, I don't know what you mean by my actions being cringey or how that makes me cringe," I said.

"Well, it's like how you like. Uh. Meow at our other friends. Or how you obsess over fandom. Or do other weird things. You know, that's all cringe."

I remember staring at her and feeling an overwhelming amount of just "wtf". None of these behaviors were even unique to me within that friend group. I knew the friend in question who described me as cringe; he had a crush on another person in the friend group who did EXACTLY all that. His crush would often meow with me or even start the meowing herself. She was an unabashed yaoi fangirl who made sure ALL our friends knew it. She very often would purposefully do weird things to get a rise out of the other friends in our friend group. But, sure, for some reason it was cringe when I did all that and she didn't?

And on top of all that, I asked my best friend... "Well, what's wrong with being cringe?"

She grimaced. "Well, you know. It makes us uncomfortable to be around you. You make *us* look bad when you act that way in public."

Ah. Fucking "losing face", but toned down to sound more palatable and because she didn't want to admit to even herself that's exactly what was going on. "Well, if I'm cringe in public, that's a reflection on me, not you?"

"No, because... we choose to be around you, so in a way you do reflect on us."

"Okay, well there's still nothing wrong with being cringe itself." I shrug and sit back. "I'm not changing this part of me just to make the others in our friend group feel more comfortable."

Honestly, I knew why they had singled me out. I was the only person in the group who was openly queer. Sure, my best friend herself was aroace, and another friend was bi, but neither of them would openly talk to the others about their sexualities and would pretty much only talk to me about their queer experiences. Meanwhile, I was loud and proud to be queer. I wore ace pins, I loudly proclaimed my pronouns which clashed harshly with my gender presentation, I would make queer jokes at myself. And all that, coupled with my loud, unashamed personality, upset their carefully-crafted conformity to society and rocked their boat too much.

I'm still upset over that exchange, all these years later. My best friend, who eventually became my partner, had told me she loved that part of me before, that she wished she could express herself as genuinely as I could. She told me she was jealous how I didn't care what other people thought of me and that I was able to enjoy the things I did no matter what the people around me told me. But... hanging out with our other friends, and the influence from her parents, all of whom refused to rock the boat, eventually drove a rift between us.

I still mourn losing that group of friends, but more than that, I'm mourning losing her. Not just because we broke up. No, I'm mourning the version of her who loved me, and that I had fallen in love with. I know the person who broke up with me was not the person I had originally met, or the one who told me that we were platonic soulmates. I'm grieving because that girl is dead, and she was killed by the people around her asking her to conform like they did because it's "safer".

Goodbye, my love. I hope we never cross paths again, for your heart and for mine.

[ghostedeabha]

imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose

okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."

thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

wc: 563

warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)

a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3

a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?

simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.

so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.

looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.

"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.

"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.

"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.

"i'm taken."

"i know." you replied with a short laugh.

"you should be touching me like that then."

it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.

"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"

"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.

"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.

sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.

"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.

you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.

"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.

"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.

simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."

you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.

you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.

[missnxthingg]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃 - 𝐹𝐼𝑉𝐸

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 - Lando Norris x Single Mom!Reader (Best friends to lovers) 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 - Lando and Y/N have always been the best of friends, always there for each other through thick and thin. After years of sharing the paddock and building their own silly little family, both of them just can't hold their feelings inside anymore, even though they're are both afraid it would ruin their friendship. So who'll take the first step? 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 - 7.2 K | 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - Swearing and smut! (skip if you want to) 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 - One more chapter to go and I REALLY hope this one is like... me predicting the future 🤞 And if you want to skip the smut part, I put it on italics, so don't worry about missing it!

smau version | series masterlist | main masterlist | taglist

Race weekends in Zandvoort always make Y/N very anxious, because everyone knew the owner of the house is Max Verstappen. No driver had such power over the crowd of fans on the grandstands of the Netherlands than the leader of Red Bull Racing. But this year, the sea of orange – that most definitely weren’t for McLaren this time – was the last thing making her nervous.

Her relationship with Lando had barely started, and this would be the first race they attended as an official couple, even though not a lot of people really know about it. On the past week, they took their time to enjoy the last days of summer break and enjoy being together. But now, they were finally stepping out of the safeness of their home to start going out into the public as a couple. People would start to acknowledge their relationship.

It wasn’t the type of thing you tell through the internet to close people around you. Lando got to tell his best friends, including Max, through one last golfing session before the break was over. Y/N revealed to her parents once they came around to stay with Olivia for the weekend, so she could work. But their team and the public didn’t really know about it, and it was making her more nervous than anything in life.

“Fuck me, this is hard”, she cursed as she stepped into the paddock with the sensation that everyone had their eyes on her, as if she had a big bad secret to tell them all.

“Y/N, meeting with the drivers in fifteen”, Steve, her boss, called once he spotted her walking past him. That would be the first time she would be in the same room with her boyfriend and their entire team after summer break, and she was nervous, because she knew Lando wouldn’t behave around them.

As much as Y/N was being careful to protect their relationship from everyone, he didn’t really care who knew about them. And of course the first thing he did when she entered the McLaren motorhome was press a long kiss to her cheek.

People around them frowned. Not that they didn’t know about Lando and Y/N close friendship, it was just that they rarely showed their affection for each other inside the work environment – except for big racing achievements.

“Morning, baby”, he mumbled, pulling her for a hug before the start of the meeting. Lando had left the hotel earlier for training with Jon, so they still hadn’t seen each other today. “Did you sleep well?”

“I’m a little anxious, but it was alright”, she kept her voice low as they had their casual and wholesome conversation in the corner, ignoring people’s staring. “And you?”

“I always sleep well next to you”, he winked before pulling a chair for her to seat at their meeting room. 

Everyone around them wanted to say something about what they were seeing. And surprising enough, Oscar was the first one to address the elephant in the room, after ten minutes of Lando and Y/N pretending it was all just the same.

“You two are together, aren’t you?”, the Australian asked, and Y/N had to hide her face between her hands in order to hide her embarrassment as well. “Fucking knew it”.

“We just started dating”, Lando started, ignoring the entire conversation they were having a minute ago about the press conference he was going to participate.

“And I was waiting for the right moment to tell you all, but Mr Norris can’t keep his hands to himself”, Y/N completed, making her boyfriend chuckle with the response.

“You all owe me dinner”, Zak stated, making the entire team laugh and the couple frown at their reactions. “We all knew you’ve been together since Miami. We were just waiting for the time you made it official”.

“See! I told you weren’t careful with your hugging and kissing around the paddock”, Y/N smacked Lando’s bicep, making him hiss in pain. “Great, this definitely not how I wanted everyone to find out about this”.

“But it isn’t so bad, is it?”, Lando questioned, not only the team, but Y/N as well. “You don’t need to be afraid about this being public”.

Y/N glanced at him and her eyes said it all, that the conversation still wasn’t over, because there were things she wanted to say away from everyone else. But she continued with her discourse: “If you think this is unprofessional or that it will mess with his PR, I can step away from the team”.

“Nonsense”, Zak laughed, joined by her other boss. “If anything, you make his PR better. And people absolutely love you as well. So as long as it doesn’t mess with the team results, I don’t see a problem with you staying with McLaren, Y/N”.

“And you two have always been very professional whenever you’re wearing papaya. So we know you’ll continue being respectful at work”.

It still didn’t make Y/N relax that now everyone knew about them. She still had hundreds of thoughts about people knowing about their relationship, because she had lived through Lando’s past relationships, to which the public had made sure to ruin with their online activity.

“Is that why you’re anxious?”, he asked once they were alone in his driver’s room, and she voiced her concerns to her boyfriend. “Y/N, I love you. And this time, I don’t think anyone will have the ability to ruin this for us, not even online haters”.

“But…”, she tried to justify her worries once again, but she ran out of breath, having to take a seat on his tiny couch to breathe. Lando sat next to her and held her hands between his, so they could have a heart-to-heart conversation.

“I know relationships are scary, especially one so public like ours, but I promise you that I will do anything to protect you. To protect us”, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, making her smile for a second. “And I don’t want to hide you, my love. You know I’ve never wanted to do this”.

“I still worry a lot about what people will think about this”, she admitted, and he understood her side. “I’m a single mother. I’m a coworker. You know exactly what some people think about me. All of this can turn out to be very bad for us”.

“I can assure you that people whose opinion matters will not care about any of this”, he said, letting one of his hands find her cheek, where he rubbed his thumb in comfort. “I love you. Nothing will ever change this”.

“I love you too”.

Y/N found it funny how much trusting someone can make you more confident with time. After that conversation with Lando, she wasn’t afraid of telling people anymore. So when she learned that he had told his parents, when both showed up for the race in Zandvoort, she didn’t worry about their reaction – which was really good, for that matter.

“Now I can finally admit it to you, Y/N. I’ve always rooted for you and Lando”, Cisca said to her, as they watched one of his free practices together. “I was the first person to know he was in love with you, by the way. Mothers always know, and you’ll see it”.

“Did he tell you first?”

“Yes”, she smiled softly.”When he was twenty. But I knew it before any words came out of his mouth. He has been down bad for you since you met, and I could see it in his eyes. So I’m glad he finally got the girl of his dreams.

“I’m glad too”, Y/N smiled at Cisca before taking a quick glance at the television in the garage. Lando had just set the best time on the session, taking the first position on the grid. “You know, I was nervous about people’s reactions. Specially those who are very important to him”.

“Worried about what, my love?”

“That people would think I’m only using him”, Y/N admitted. “I know what people say about me online. While some people think our friendship is really cute, others think I’m only using him for his money to raise my daughter. But I swear that I’m not”.

“Well, I know that you’re not using him. And so does Adam, his siblings, Max, your friends. Everyone that matters know you’re with him because you love him. And they know that everything Lando does for you and Olivia is because he loves you too”.

“Yeah, he told me that”, Y/N’s lips curved into a small smile. “And all my insecurities went away”.

“And by the way, it’s always funny to see a little girl bossing him around like I saw in Silverstone”, Cisca laughed, remembering all the times she saw then interact at his home race. “He loves her so much, since she was born, you know? He has always said that his biggest wish was to be the father Olivia never had. And I think he’ll be just great doing that”.

“I think so too”, Y/N admitted. “He has been taking care of us for as long as I can remember. I couldn’t have named a better godfather for Ollie. He said to me that he wanted to be in this position for her, and so far, he’s been great at owning up to his words”.

“I’m glad I taught him very well to do that”, his mother laughed. “So don’t worry about people. Everyone that actually matters will always have your back”.

“Thank you, Cisca. It means a lot, really”.

While it made things easier for Y/N to accept being public with Lando, letting things flow naturally, his ‘PR problem’ ass wasn’t helping on keeping it a secret from anyone. Because of the amazing weekend he was having, he didn’t really care if anyone saw his affection towards his girlfriend. Starting from pole, he arrived at the paddock on the weekend and immediately found her so they could walk with his arm around her shoulder, right in front of all the photographers and fans.

“I swear to God that if you end up exposing us too soon, or in the wrong way, I’m going to kill you”, she whispered. “Or worse, I’m going to break up with you”.

“That’s definitely worse, babe. At least I would’ve died knowing you were my girlfriend”, he giggled, pulling her inside the motorhome, away from everyone’s eyes. “And people need to start getting used to us being a couple. I don’t want to hide you to the world. You’re my girlfriend and I want everyone to know”.

“Lando, please, we talked about this…”, she started, but he silenced her with a kiss. Lucky enough, they were alone inside the motorhome, a rare occasion on Sundays. “For fuck’s sake!”

“If I win today, will you let me hard launch us?”, he asked, making her roll her eyes. “I mean, does it matter if we do a soft or a hard launch? Everyone has always rooted for us. And I think that if I win, then it’s the Universe giving us a go”.

“Lando, you’re on fucking pole. There’s a very big chance you end up winning today”.

“But you very much know that pole position has never guaranteed me anything”, he joked, knowing very much about his reputation with race starts. “So, do we have a deal?”

“Alright. If you win today, then I’ll let you tell everyone about us. But if you don’t win, then we’re doing things my way”, she pointed a finger at his face, making Lando open his signature boyish smile before taking her hand away from his face and pulling her for another kiss. 

“Deal”, he winked, already thinking he would do anything in his power to make sure he won today. He didn’t care who he would have to take off the race to get a chance at winning, he had to get this win for them both.

Later that day, when Lando lost the lead before the first corner, Y/N thought she had her answer for the day. Of course, Max Verstappen would win in his home race, it was obvious. But when he easily overtook him and finished the race twenty-second ahead of the three time world champion, she knew the Universe was throwing a big message at their faces.

She sighed in defeat when Lando opened the last lap, and teared up when he finally crossed the finishing line, so proud of his achievement. It was the green light they’ve been waiting for so long in their relationship. Then, she got to hear the last radio message of the race through her headphones, through the cooldown lap, one that made her laugh.

“Tell Y/N that a deal is a deal”, Lando said. “She’ll understand it”.

She shook her head in disbelief, but was already accepting that this was happening. The whole world was about to know about them. So she joined his parents to wait for Lando at the parc fermé, and they all cheered a lot when he parked his bright papaya McLaren in the winner’s position. He rushed his way out of the car and jumped into his team's arms, eyes already looking for Y/N through his visor. After the weighting, he finally removed his helmet and rushed to his girlfriend. What she wasn’t expecting, though, was a big kiss in front of everyone. In front of every camera, every journalist and every fan present on the track. He didn't care about anyone or anything else, just about this girl.

“A deal is a deal”, he whispered against her lips, making her entire face burn in embarrassment.

“When you said ‘hard launch’, I thought you meant an Instagram story with a cute caption”.

“Uhm… not really my way of doing things”, he shrugged with a smile, moving onto his parents, who were excitedly waiting for their turn to hug him. It felt so good to have family there to cheer for him. This race, after so many bad ones, didn't feel so lonely.

But as much as Lando just wanted to be with his family, he still had a lot of duties to do after the race, including the podium celebration and the media duties afterwards. He still couldn’t get his hands off Y/N, always having his arms wrapped around her somehow as they walked along the paddock to everywhere he was required to be.

“If someone gets mad about the hard launch, I’m putting it into your account, alright?”

“Don’t worry about it. Everything will be fine and me winning proves that. We let the Universe decide the timing for us and it did”, he shrugged. “I’m just happy to finally tell everyone that you’re mine”

“Did you push your car to the limit just to win the race for us?”, she frowned.

“Wish I could say I did, but the McLaren was a rocketship today. It really was just faith”, he assured with a smile. "Every piece of this puzzle fell perfectly into place. Now we just have to enjoy it”.

Of course, the entire media wanted to know about this. Normally, some vehicles don’t get too much into the drivers’ personal lives, but since Lando kissed her in the middle of the track, right after winning a race, it would be interesting for them to have a quote about who’s the mysterious girl wearing a McLaren shirt that he kissed in the middle of the track. The journalists all knew her, since Y/N was always by Lando’s side through every media duty, but the world was about to really get to know her.

“I don’t have a lot to say about that”, Lando shrugged when one of the reporters asked about the kiss. “I won, and I was happy, and I kissed my girlfriend who was there to celebrate it with me. Not a big deal at all, except or the fact that now everyone knows she’s my girlfriend”, he chuckled.

Y/N, who was standing right next to him holding her own microphone to record all the conversations for McLaren, felt like she was about to burst into flames for embarrassment. She could only imagine the internet burning up videos and comments as well. Maybe she should stay away from social media for a couple of days.

“So McLaren’s golden boy is no longer single now?”, the reporter asked.

“Yeah”, Lando giggled. “And they say I got no rizz. Yet, I got the most perfect girl to cheer for me at every race”.

Later that day, after all the team celebrations and his duties with the media team, they left the paddock hand in hand, right next to his parents. Lando didn’t want it to be a big celebration this time, because there was no point for it. He just wanted to have dinner with his family and enjoy the rest of the night with Y/N.

“I think I’m having déjà vu from Miami”, he whispered in her ear as they approached his car, making Y/N laugh. “Come on, I’m serious”.

“As if you weren’t going to get it”, Y/N joked. “And I think it will be good to finally have some time alone for once. I love Ollie, but I think we deserve some time alone for now”.

“We’re already behaving like an old married couple”, he chuckled, and lowered his voice once again. “But yeah, it will be nice to not be quiet for once”.

“You’re pathetic”, she laughed, but deep down he knew she agreed with him.

The dinner celebration was filled with laughter and joy, with both of them having a fun meal with Adam and Cisca, who were getting to see them as a couple for the first time in their lives. They expressed how much they were glad to finally see them together, loving to see the smile on their son’s face for the first time in a long while.

“Thank you for taking care of him, Y/N”, Adam said, as they were saying their goodbyes after dinner. The couple would be leaving for England tonight. “You have always taken care of him, but I know this time is different. I know you make him the happiest”.

“It’s so easy to love your son”, she admitted. “So you don’t have to thank me. I have to thank you for raising such a good man”.

“Stop! I’m blushing over here”, Lando commented as he hugged his mother. “You silly idiots love me, I know. I love you all, too”.

He was over the moon with the ending of this weekend. When they arrived back at the hotel, Lando couldn't stop kissing Y/N. She tried making her skincare routine, taking off the uncomfortable clothes to slip into bed, but he kept kissing her neck as she brushed her teeth.

“You look so beautiful tonight”, he complimented, his lips close to her ear, as she felt her entire body shiver with his contact. Y/N was wearing a see-through nightgown that she packed specially for this trip, because she knew that no matter the result, they would be alone at night for the first time in a while. 

His hands ran through her entire body and Lando was surprised to see she wasn't wearing any underwear when he put his hands under her dress. He gasped when they found her unclothed core.

“Oh my God, you're getting reckless”, he giggled, turning her around as she put her arms around his neck. “Am I taking you down the wrong path?”

“I've always been like this, muppet. Now, you get to see this new side of me”, she nudged his nose, making him smile brightly. 

“I like this new side of you”, he pecked her lips once again before pulling her out of the bathroom.

Lando and Y/N were loving to take their time together, instead of sneaking around the house and not taking too long to have sex because of Olivia. But now they didn't have a little girl to bother them in such intimate moments. They savoured each other's lips and enjoyed moments of silence, filled only and exclusively by their kisses noises.

She palmed him through his pants during the kiss, making Lando moan between their lips. Y/N felt him growing hard, so she slipped a hand inside his trousers, making him moan louder this time.

“Baby”, he called as she started massaging his cock. “Fuck, don’t stop”.

“I wasn't planning to”.

Y/N turned him around, straddling his hips, only to easily take his shirt off. While she didn't work his cock with her hand, her hips were doing their job as they made out a little more.

“Do you want to take my nightie off?”, she asked, and Lando quickly nodded, pulling the dress off her body, making his lips immediately find her nipples. Y/N rocked her hips against his, doing circular movements, as she felt him harder than a rock under her core.

“Please, I need you”, he asked, throwing his head back into the pillow with the pressure on his cock.

“I got you, my love”.

Y/N started kissing down his chest, paying attention to his nipples as well, knowing everything in his body was highly sensitive at the moment. She lowered her kisses to his belly, until her lips found the hem of his trousers and boxers. She darted her eyes up, meeting him halfway, as she provoked him with the kisses. When she managed to pull off his last pieces of clothes that were keeping them apart, her hands immediately found a grip on his cock.

“So beautiful”, she complimented, making him blush under her comment. “I'm gonna make you feel so good, my love”.

She lowered her head to get closer to his cock, swirling her tongue around his tip. Her eyes looked up and they found Lando's, who was attentively watching her every move. His hands brushed through her tongue and soon gathered her hair in a ponytail, taking it out of the way so he could see her better.

Y/N found it very hot when she finally put him inside her mouth and Lando let out a surprisingly loud moan. She bobbed her head up and down, his noises only making her keep going with her job. Eventually, he started thrusting his hips into her mouth a little, desperately chasing for his high. But afraid of hurting his girlfriend, he kept his strength to himself.

“I don't want you to hold back”, Y/N said, popping his dick out of her mouth, still stroking him with her hands. “Tonight, I want to feel everything, please”.

“Fuck, you're driving me insane”, Lando sat straight, and pulled her into a kiss, tasting a little bit of himself on her mouth. “Get on your knees on the floor, beautiful”.

Y/N did as she was told, and he stood up from the bed, putting a hand on the base of his cock and using the other one to caress her face.

“Open your mouth, baby girl”, he brushed the tip of his dick through her lips as she looked up so innocently at him. But then she opened it wide, knowing he had a big cock, so she could take all of him. “My good girl. Gonna take all of me in your mouth, uhm? Don't want me to hold back?”

Lando’s cock was already deep inside her throat and Y/N tried her best not to gag at how big he was. He only stopped with the rough pace when he felt his dick spilling cum inside her throat, panting her on the inside with a little piece of him. Once he was empty, Lando left her mouth open on the floor and paid attention to the white liquid on her tongue, to which she swallowed as she looked up at him.

“Fucking hell”, he cursed, pulling her back up so he could kiss her again. “You're so fucking sexy, my girl. You did so good”.

“Now please do something to help me, because I'm dripping”.

Lando had gone a little soft again, but with a little more time, he would be ready to go again. This only gave him more time to make Y/N enjoy herself. And after weeks discovering her body like the palm of his hand, he knew exactly what she liked him to do.

“Come on, I'll take care of my good girl, because she's been so good today”, he pressed kisses to her cheek before shoving her back to bed. If she wanted it rough, she would have it. And Y/N loved when he altered between soft and dom in bed.

She could feel his thick fingers working in circles on her clit as he intensively flipped, bite, sucked and kissed her nipples, one of the most sensitive areas of her body. 

“I want to try something different today”, he said, pulling a shirt from the floor and wrapping it around her eyes, as some sort of blindfold. Then, he took a little surprise out of his bag; handcuffs, to which she only found out when he felt the coldness of the metal against the skin of her wrists, tying her arms to the headboard. Now, her senses were solely focused on touching.

“You're being so bold today”.

“I know how to obey my girlfriend when she says she doesn't want me to hold back”, he shrugged, making her entire body shiver with only the words.

Lando was quiet for a moment, and it seemed like he went somewhere else in the room, taking a very long time before he did anything to her, leaving her naked in bed, legs wide open for his pleasure. Then suddenly, she felt fingers doing circles on her clit again, this time taking the slowest time to provoke her. Then she felt his hot tongue going through her cunt, which made her moan loudly. But the licking was just a spoiler, and the entrance plate was his fingers, who started pumping in and out of her roughly, then curling at the right spot inside of her. It felt so good to the point she could feel her high coming and coming and…

Nothing. Lando pulled his fingers away from her, leaving her squirming alone in bed. She whined at the loss of contact and almost cried to have her orgasm ruined, not getting to do anything about it because of the handcuffs.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck! Lando, I need to fucking cum ”, she cried. “Please, I'm so close”.

The next round, Lando settled between her legs and ate her pussy as if his life depended on it. Y/N wanted more than anything to see him going down on her, to touch his fluff hair that was brushing deliciously against her tights. The only thing she could do was lock him close to her with her tights. Still, it didn't keep him from pulling away just as she was about to reach her high again.

“What the fuck, Lando? Why are you doing this to me?”, she whined, missing the contact on her core, wanting her release. 

“Haven’t you heard of edging, baby?”, he asked. “I'm making sure you're good to cum as hard as you can when the time comes”.

"You're bad", she cried, making him smile at her, even though she couldn't see him at all. 

He squeezed her hips and reassured: "Trust me, you're gonna thank me for this later”

Lando softly brushed his fingers against her sensitive core, and Y/N bucked her hips towards his fingers, wanting nothing more than to feel something more. And he obeyed. For a good thirty minutes, he spent between her legs, edging her in ways he never thought he could. But one time, when he was already feeling his cock rock hard and ready to go again, he didn't pull away when he felt her pussy clenching around his fingers as he used his tongue to stimulate her clit.

Y/N came harder than she had ever done in her life, making Lando's face soaking wet. And still, he made sure to lick all of it, making her clean for the next step. When he came back from her tights and removed her blindfold, Lando had a smug smile on his face, proud of his work.

"God, you're soaked", she laughed, and then it dawned on her why his face was wet. "Oh God, did I…?”.

"Squirt? I think so", he said with a proud smile. "I didn't know you could do that”.

"I didn't know I could do that", Y/N admitted, making Lando smile wider. 

"Oh, I'm so proud of myself right now”, he laughed, running his thumb through his mouth to collect the rest of her juices, only to put it on his mouth to taste her again. 

“Ugh, men…”, Y/N rolled her eyes with a smirk, and watched him undo the ties on her wrists, making her arms finally come back down. “Thank God, I was sore”.

“Sorry, baby. Promise to go easy on you now”, he pressed a few kisses to her face, making her heart swell in adoration. How could this man be so sexy and cute at the same time?

“Uhm, I love you”, she ran her fingers through his hair, making him smile widely.

“I love you too”, their lips met in a sweet kiss, shifting the mood in the bedroom1

Lando pressed kisses to every inch of her skin and massaged her arms, making sure she was soothed and well rested for another round. And of course the massages turned into another heated makeout, that ended up with Lando positioned between her legs, their cores brushing together, as they slowly kissed in the calmness of their room.

“Wanna be inside you”, he mumbled, taking his cock once again and brushing the tip around his clit, making Y/N whimper.

"Please", she asked, making him push it inside her the next second. And even after all this time, YN still couldn't get over the feeling of having him stretching her in all sorts of good ways. And he was still surprised how they fitted like two puzzle pieces.

"So wet for me, baby. I prepared you well", Lando praised, smiling at the work he had done earlier. "I can go in so easy on you, fuck”.

Y/N refused to get away from Lando tonight, even though they always loved to try new positions. She just wanted to be close to him, be able to see his fare from up close, lean up and kiss him. She hugged his body and dug her fingers on the skin of his back, scratching him up.

“You feeling good, baby? Talk to me. What do you want?”, Lando asked and Y/N had to control her breathing to be able to talk to him.

"Harder, please", she put one of her hands between her legs to stimulate her clit, trying to chase her high once again. He caught her action and substituted her hand with his, picking up his pace.

"Holy fuck, you feel so good", he moaned. "God, I'm so lucky”.

"The luckiest", she smiled at him, loving to see him from that angle, eyes shut in pleasure and solely focusing on her body. The coat of sweat over his body and the flexing of his arms as he held her tightly only made him even more beautiful. She was so lucky too. 

"I'm close", he announced, but even though Y/N was feeling great, she still wasn't close to her high. 

"Switch", she asked, making Lando frown and drop his pace.

"What?”

"Switch positions, please”.

Lando likes to be on top, in control all the time, and so far, he has always been the one in control When he was with Y/N. Still, when she asked for this change, he didn't complain. Trying new things with her is always amazing.

And to be fair, he got on the verge of cumming when he saw her on top of him, now calling the shots, working on the pace that was best for her. Lando got a grip on her ass to help her steady and one of his hands helped stimulate her clit once again. 

"Now I'm close. Are you close, baby?”, she asked, but all Lando could do was nod and moan her name. 

It didn't take long until they reached their high and Y/N collapsed on top of him. Lando felt his cock going soft while still inside her, but they were too tired to move. She pressed a few tired kisses on his chest, making him smile at the gesture. It made his stomach fill with butterflies, like she has always done since they met.

"If a victory sex is amazing, I can only imagine what a championship sex will feel like", he said, making her chuckle.

"Absolutely amazing", she said. "So you better get that trophy for us”

"Don't know if I can do that, Y/N", he admitted. “I’m scared this might be my only chance and that I'm wasting it away, throwing victories like this on the trash. And that, in the future, I won't have the same opportunity once again”.

"Don't let these thoughts get to you, cause I know you're doing your best. And if you end up second place in the championship, it's alright too. I will love you no matter what. And we'll have an amazing vice championship sex in a nice hotel room in Abu Dhabi".

He smiled fondly at her response and started his aftercare routine immediately after, putting her in the shower, because they were a mess, while he changed the bed into spare sheets, so they could sleep somewhere clean. Soon he joined her on their quick shower, only to get back to bed once again to rest from their full day.

"I love you so much", he said, now that they were back to cuddling in bed. “You make me the happiest. I'm so lucky to have you in my life”.

"I love you too, baby. I love you and your random confessions of love", she kissed the tip of his nose, making his heart rush. "I love everything about you”.

"Even my flaws?”

"Even your flaws. And I'll be here with you until the end".

"Come on, baby. Let uncle Lando carry you”.

Olivia was sitting in the back of his car, sleepy to be woken up from her afternoon nappie before the race and not really in the mood to be around the paddock today. Sometimes, Y/N thinks she’s too much like Lando, who also absolutely hates to be woken up from his naps. It didn’t matter if they were, finally, in Abu Dhabi, anticipating not only their first December as a family, but also Norris’ great chances of winning the championship, to which he had managed to drag to the last race.

He wanted Ollie to be there for this one. Actually, his entire family was there to celebrate it with him; his siblings and nieces – who were all having a great time with Olivia –, his parents, his best friends; and, most importantly, both of the loves of his life, who have been his biggest support throughout the year.

Lando carried his goddaughter through the paddock, as she continued her nap on his shoulder. Y/N walked beside them, no longer scared of what the public would think. Even since their hard launching in Zandvoort, his fans have been nothing but supportive for their relationship. Who truly was his fan knew how much she and her daughter meant to him, so they defended the couple from any harm.

Also, Y/N stood beside him because she knew today would be a hard day. The championship was still at stake, and Lando would need all the support he could get from her. Since yesterday, when he got the last pole position of the season, he hasn't let go off her hand for a second; not even now, that they still had a long walk through the paddock with him carrying Ollie on his arm. Last night, they all cuddled together in bed, only for him to wake up surrounded by his favourite people.

“You good?”, Y/N asked once they were in his driver's room. Flo, one of his sisters, was there as well and would be keeping an eye on Ollie while they did their respective jobs on track.

“Yes”, Lando smiled at her. “I thought I would be more terrified and nervous, but I'm actually alright. Whatever has to happen, will happen”.

“That’s my boy”, Y/N pulled him for a kiss on the cheek, making him blush with the gesture. “Flo, are you alright here with Ollie? I promise she won't be out for long, and if she is, you can wake her up and go to the garage”.

“Don't worry about it, Y/N. Go do your jobs and I'll take care of my niece”, Flo winked at Lando, who blushed harder at the nickname, feeling a tingle of pride on his chest. Every reminder that he had the girl of his dreams beside him was enough to make him giggly like a little boy.

“Then off we go to those interviews, my boy”.

Lando had only a few pre-race interviews and media duties before getting to concentrate on the race. After that, he solely focused on getting calm, knowing everything about tonight was under his control.

“Someone wants to see you before you get in the car”, Cisca announced, entering the garage where her son was talking to his engineers, with Olivia in her arms. His eyes softened to see her, with a beautiful smile on his face.

“Good luck, uncle Lando”, she leaned into his arms and he easily got a grip of her tiny body, pulling her for a hug. He felt her lips pressing over and over again on his cheek, and he felt his eyes brimming with tears of happiness.

“Thank you. I love you so much, my sweet girl”, his voice bargained on his throat, but he was strong enough to contain his emotions.

Y/N was just passing through the garage when she saw the scene unfolding in front of her, so she rushed to join their hug, making Ollie giggle. Lando pulled his girlfriend for a sweet kiss as she smiled against his lips.

“Baby, I love you so much”, she said. “And I'll be cheering as much as I can with this little one right here”.

“I'm glad to have you both here. Tonight is a little more special because I have my entire family here. Nothing could ever beat this feeling”.

“Don't get emotional now, you wanker. Get in that car and make us proud!”, Y/N joked, making Lando laugh. 

“I’ll be back in the blink of an eye. Hopefully with two trophies for us”, he pressed another kiss to Y/N's lips and one more on Ollie's forehead before giving the little girl back to her mother. “I love you”.

“I love you too, uncle Lan”.

Y/N could barely breathe once Lando was inside the car. She held tightly onto Olivia, who seemed to get the tense mood, not being the giggly and excited self whenever she was on a race track. But Norris did well, held his pole position perfectly, but it was still challenging for him to keep it throughout the race. Yet, on the last lap, he had an eight-second gap from P2 and was first to see the checkered flag. P1 – and fastest lap, as a bonus.

Lando Norris is a World Champion.

Y/N had been crying for the last ten laps of the race, knowing deep inside her that he was going to do this. The perfect race to end the perfect year. Olivia raised her spirits through the race as well, shouting for Lando and excitedly clapping her hands, jumping up and down, whenever he did good. Domination, from beginning to the end. What a way to win a championship.

Lando shouted a lot on the radio and celebrated it a lot when he was out of the car. But he only allowed himself to cry when he finally saw Y/N, crying at his achievement, clearly very emotional with the ending of the year. So many years battling for this moment, and yet here they are. It’s impossible not to get emotional at this. 

He held very tightly onto his girlfriend as they silently cried together, too emotional to even think about speaking. Y/N was the first one to break the silence, making Lando cry even more, dawning on him the achievement he just conquered.

“Congratulations, World Champion Lando Norris”, she whispered in his ear. “You finally did”.

“We finally did it”, he corrected, pulling back from the hug and holding her face between his hands. “We. I couldn’t have done it without you”.

“I love you so much”, she declared, pulling him for a kiss on the cheek, that made him smile widely. “I’m so proud of you, my love. You deserve all of this, all this glory, everything”.

“So do you”, he pecked her lips for a brief second and smile. “I love you too”.

“Uncle Lando!”, a little voice called from behind them, and Olivia was rushing towards him with Max right behind her, not getting to keep their hands together as they walked through the crowd. Lando immediately extended his arms to pull Ollie from behind the fence to hug him. “You won!”

“I won, baby girl. Did you see it? Uncle Lan did this for you”, he bumped her nose, making her smile. Ollie whipped away his tears to give him a kiss. “I love you, my sweet girl. I’m so glad you were here to see me win”.

“I love you too”.

Lando pulled Y/N closer so they could share a group hug and never felt so at peace. This year, he got everything he ever wished for: a family of his own and the glory of being a Formula 1 World Champion. Life couldn’t get any better than this, he knew it couldn’t. If he died tomorrow, he knew he would go happily, knowing he achieved everything he ever wanted in life.

“You need to go to the podium”, Y/N whispered in his ear, but he didn’t dare to move a muscle. “Lando, they are going to get me killed”.

“Shut up, just a second longer”, he buried his face in her neck, making her shiver in contact with his breathing on her skin. “I think I earned the privilege of having a few more seconds with my family right now”.

But Lando was soon dragged to the podium, not before he hugged his parents, siblings and friends though. Lucky enough, they got to postpone the ceremony for a few minutes, just so he could meet everyone that mattered before the podium. Eventually, he had to go get his trophy. And while he was standing on the top step of the podium, watching the crowd cheer for his first championship, he wondered what the next challenge would be. More wins? A second championship? 

“Now, what?”, he whispered to himself.

Once glance at Y/N and Olivia, right on the ground, filming him as the British National Anthem played in the background, he knew what the future reserved for him. And he already enjoyed it.

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙

𝒔𝒐𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒍 𝒎𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒂 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏 . 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #01

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.4k+

𝐚/𝐧: this bombass comeback wouldn't be as amazing and special if it weren't for @kithtaehyung who made the best new mh banner anyone could ever make!!! ryen, thank you bub so much for putting up with my indecisive ass and taking the time to make not only this banner but different versions before that! I truly appreciate it and I'm thankful you're a part of this!!

ogs know this one is reposted but I hope everyone will enjoy it whether they're rereading it or reading for the first time! lastly, thank you for the endless love and support, i love y'all ♡

𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

The hallway looks exactly the same, which there isn't any reason why it should look different all of a sudden, but considering you haven't been in this building for the past few weeks just makes you want to notice the slightest change. But there is none. It still smells sterile with a little bit of sweetness which reminds you of cinnamon. You're not sure why, nor do you really dwell on it too much.

You could imagine your Thursday evening differently, which means laying down as soon as you come home and turn on Netflix, trying to spend at least twenty minutes finding a good show. That's been your routine for weeks now, but you're not complaining. It feels that void of loneliness in your smart one bedroom apartment.

Although, you can't help but feel nervous when you picture the message you got from Jimin.

'come to Jungkook's, he needs us' 

He never explained anything further, nor replied to the tons of your messages or missed calls. You wouldn't be on the edge, if you've seen or heard from Jungkook. Apart from some occasional messages like 'what's up' or 'what were you doing today?', your communication went downhill. But you don't blame him or yourself for it. You were both busy and probably still are, to even hangout like you always used to.

It bothered you for some time, not hanging out with your best friend like you used to. But you've grown used to that small but painful fact that you don't have to see each other every day. Plus, after some time you've realized, you can still be best friends with someone without having to chat with them 24/7. Gratefulness is how you'd describe your feelings. Grateful that your friendship works, even though you don't get to spend your time with each other that often.

Your knuckles meet the wood of Jungkook's front door in a gentle manner, which is a complete opposite of your inside feelings as you've this weird feeling inside of you. The message Jimin sent you was weird and you haven't heard from anyone since then.

And when the door finally opens, you're glad you're met with Jimin himself as he stares at you with hopeful eyes and a breath of relief that escapes his plush lips. You rush inside, already taking off your shoes and jacket while you confusingly stare at your friend that looks more than relieved to see you.

"What the hell happened? You never texted me back." you tell him, or more like scold him rather than properly greet him.

"Ah, sorry," he cringes, pulling out his phone before he notices the bunch of messages and missed calls from you. "It's just—"

"This is bullshit."

The grumpy and raspy voice unintentionally cuts him off, booming inside of the apartment causing your ears to naturally perk up. Is it just you or his voice got deeper? You look at Jimin with a questioning gaze, who sees the confusion on your features as you hear Jungkook's grumpy and annoyed voice. Rather than explaining something to you, he sighs and with a quick cock of his head towards the living room, you both walk inside.

You're surprised when you see Taehyung there as well, opening a beer can before he pushes it into Jungkook's hands. Surprisingly, the mentioned guy is slouched on his beige couch, wearing one of his baggy shirts and loose sweatpants with his hair looking like he hasn't brushed them for days.

Taehyung's eyes meet yours as soon as you step in, noticing the mess around including two pizza boxes thrown on the floor and empty cans of coke and beer on the coffee table. "Oh, thank god!" Taehyung breathes out the same sigh of relief, causing you to greet him with a confused 'hello'.

Although, you don't wait for any reaction because your best friend finally acknowledges your presence in his home, head lazily turning in your direction as you walk up to him.

"Great," he mutters, almost rolling eyes at the sight of you. "Who called her?" he eyes the two of his best friends, scoffing before he takes a gulp of the beer that Taehyung handed him.

"What kind of reaction is that, asshole?" you react right away, frowning at your best friend that hasn't seen you for weeks and this is his first reaction.

"Don't mind him, please. He's just a little bit drunk right now." Jimin quickly jumps into an action, noticing your fireback and unappreciative tone that's aimed at none other than Jungkook himself.

He rolls his eyes at Jimin words, but doesn't say anything else before Taehyung watches you with cautious doe eyes. He sits in a chair, arm leaned against his knee as he anxiously bites his nails even though he tries to act casual. You don't buy it.

"What the fuck is going on?" you ask them, pointing towards Jungkook that looks like a truck just hit him.

Jimin opens his mouth, but Jungkook glares at him which ends up with him shutting it right away and when you look at Taehyung, he doesn't even spare you a glance.

"Which one of you called her?" Jungkook speaks up, eyeing the two of his friends as they point to each other causing you to snort. Cowards. "I'm fine. I don't see a reason why you make such a big deal out of this. I'm fine."

The fact that he had to repeat the same sentence twice, just proves that no — he's not fine. And before the wheels in your head start to work and roll, Jimin's voice speaks up in a clear, yet quick tempo.

"Kiko broke up with Jungkook."

The room goes silent, faint sounds coming out of the television are filling out the thick silence in the room as Jungkook freezes, not even glaring at his friend that apologetically shrugs at him.

One of the reasons why you haven't got to see your best friend that often is, that he simply found a girlfriend. Trying to combine his work, personal love life and you was already hard. But you get it. You're not mad or annoyed at him, because the two of you still kept in touch. It was just a matter of time until some of you found someone and naturally, there wouldn't be that much time to spend your days together. It was bound to happen and you knew Jungkook would be the first one to find someone.

He's your best friend, but you're not blind. He's one of the most handsome guys you've ever met, not just that but his personality is something that most girls would fall for. His attitude is pissy right now and now, you know the true reason behind it. But the Jungkook you know, is one of the most caring people you know. And not only that, but he's funny, intelligent and perfect at almost everything. He's the whole package and any girl would be lucky to snatch him.

And that girl, or perhaps you should say a woman, happened to be Kiko. A Japanese beauty that their mutual friend introduced them to one another. It clicked off immediately. Even you've noticed it when Jungkook Rain checked almost every plan you had together. He started to stare into his phone with all those puppy heart eyes whenever she texted him. At first, you found it annoying because it was just plain rude, watching him text her every five seconds instead of trying to hang out with you. But then, you just stopped caring and whenever you went silent, he'd just pushed his phone away and tried to gain your attention.

It was stupid, because you knew if you gave him attitude or silent treatment, he would just feel bad and tried to focus on you. Until the both of you stopped hanging out with each other that much.

"She did?" you mutter, staring at Jungkook who stares in front of him with a wiped out gaze. You've never seen him in this kind of state. "I'm sorry, Kook."

"Yeah, well, shit happens." he grumbles, clenching his jaw as he takes another gulp of beer that's securely clenched in his hand.

You've seen Jungkook having a couple of girlfriends, but you know that his relationship with Kiko was different. He wasn't just any girlfriend that he tried to get to know, she was someone that he completely fell for and couldn't stop talking about. He's in love. And even though he's being an ass to his friends right now, it's just his coping mechanism and you know that whatever Jimin and Taehyung has been doing, hasn't helped much. He plays tough right now, hiding his true feelings under this cold and uninterested facade but you know him better.

And when he keeps glancing at you before he quickly looks away, it's almost as if he can hear your exact thoughts.

"Well," you hastily speak, clapping your hands together as you lightly smile at everyone in the room. "You don't wanna date anyone whose name is Kiko." you try to joke, a laugh and snort erupting from Jimin and Taehyung who has obviously found your little joke funny.

Jungkook on the other hand, looks even more pissed off because he never looked at you with so much anger and annoyance as he's looking right now, causing you to squirm in your spot. "Real class, Y/N." he barks at you, causing you to slump in defeat before Jimin squeezes your shoulders in comfort.

"I brought you banana milk. I didn't know what happened, so I thought this would be a nice and quick save." you lightly tell him, sitting at the end of the couch, next to his sprawled legs but he doesn't move them away.

"Jeez, I'm not some fucking kid. Banana milk won't fix my broken heart." he scoffs, shaking his head while the three of you are even surprised that he just admitted that he has a broken heart. Well, clearly but since he's been putting up this tough act, it still comes as a shock. Judging by the look of Jimin's and Taehyung's face, they seem to think the same thing.

"I know that, Kook," you quietly tell him, hastily grabbing one of his ankles as you squeeze it in a manner to comfort him. He doesn't budge, that means something. "Is there anything we can do for you?" you ask him, not really sure if he's even going to answer that.

His brows furrow while he fumbles with his fingers, the slightest pout adoring his small lips as he thinks your question through. The three of you watch him with curious eyes, wondering what the hell is this guy thinking of. He looks at you, then at Jimin and Taehyung before he softly sighs.

"I mean... there's nothing you guys can do." he says softly, taking another gulp of beer that tastes like piss. Korean beer is just not good, and you're surprised that Jungkook even drinks it. But he never had any problem with any alcohol, that man can drink and eat anything.

There's nothing you can think of that could possibly help him out of his heartbreak. The only thing for you to do, is to be there for him. And if drinking a beer that tastes like piss is some kind of twisted way of helping him, you're in. So, you reach out and grab one of the unopened cans before you open it with a loud 'click', taking a gulp of it.

"What are you doing?" Jungkook sits up, staring at your scrunched nose and distaste written all over your face.

"Drinking with you." you shrug, taking another huge gulp of it. The more you drink it, the less it tastes awful.

"But you hate this beer." he reminds you, scowling at you and your nonstop gulping, hand twitching to get it away from you.

"I know," you shrug, grinning at him. "It doesn't taste that bad. Now come on," you nudge him with your leg, raising your can to him. "Cheers." you call out to him, ignoring his big doe eyes that stare at you with a slight confusion before he sighs.

"Cheers." he mutters, clicking his can against yours before the both of you take another gulp.

The two of you are completely unaware of your friends' faces that are washed with relief and knowing eyes as they stare at you and Jungkook. All it took was just to call you to save the day. Jungkook might not be in his greatest mood or show his appreciation for you to be there for him, but drinking without constant complaining and cursing is still a better result that Jimin and Taehyung managed to get.

"I've never thought I'd ever drink this much of this piss beer." you croak out, putting another empty can onto Jungkook's messy coffee table. You sit back, head falling onto his shoulder as you silently inhale his scent. It always reminded you of his fabric softener that smells like a baby, mixed with his cologne that is very faint on his clothes.

"How do you know what piss tastes like?" Jungkook asks, raising his brow at you while the corner of his lips twitches in amusement. "Do you wanna tell me about your weird kinks?" he cocks his head at you, causing you to groan as you hit his shoulder but it does nothing to him, he doesn't even budge.

A chuckle roars in the back of his throat, a first sound that can be considered as a positive emotion.

"It's not like that." you mutter, growing embarrassed at the thought of Jungkook thinking about your kinks. Not that you know about them that much. You might think there are some things you might like, but you never had anyone to try it with. How possibly could you know? But the idea of you having a piss kink, or whatever that's called, makes you want to gag. Maybe it's the beer or just a single thought of it, who knows.

Jimin and Taehyung already left, once they saw Jungkook loosening up, they took that chance to go home and leave the two of you alone. Not even once he talked about his heartbreak, you silently watched a TV show that Jungkook turned on whilst drinking a beer and munching on some crackers that Taehyung handed you before they left.

Glancing at Jungkook, his face is illuminated from the screen whilst he's watching a TV show with slightly furrowed brows. And when it finally stops, he sighs and grabs the remote to browse through some other movies and TV shows. He keeps browsing through them for a couple of minutes, muttering a pair of curses when he can't find anything he likes. You turn on the lamp in the very corner of his living room, causing him to frown even more from the sudden light.

You sit next to him, staring at him as he sighs and looks back at you. "What?" he asks unbothered, the remote still clutched in his hand.

"I'm sorry, Kook," you tell him silently, reaching for his shoulder which you squeeze in comfort, like you previously did with his ankle. "I know that you loved her."

And you see his facade crack, when he sucks his bottom lip as he quickly looks away from you to blink away the tears that are threatening to fall. You've never seen him this vulnerable.

"Love," he mutters, causing you to let out a confused 'huh?' in response. "Not loved her, but love. I still love her." he corrects you.

"Why did she break up with you? You don't have to tell me if you don't feel comfortable enough, but you guys seemed so close together."

It doesn't make any sense. Jungkook kept talking about her even through your messages, and you could practically feel the happiness radiating from his single messages. His whole Instagram is filled with their pictures, or just single shots of Kiko that Jungkook has taken and captioned with a single heart emoji. You've never seen him being so in love before. That's when you've realized that Kiko is different from any other women that Jungkook was seeing.

You don't push him into answering, the last thing you want for him is to get upset with you. But you can't keep walking around eggshells for this whole night.

"Apparently, she just wants some time for herself. She wants to explore other things, whatever the fuck that means." he bitterly chuckles, eyes filled with anger but you know it's just hidden hurt.

"Maybe you'll find someone else, Kook. You're still young."

Scoffing, he shakes his head. "She's the love of my life. I really doubt there's someone else for me. I was about to ask her to move in with me."

Shit, he's really serious about her.

"You did?"

He nods, biting onto his lower lip before he lets it go, fumbling his eyes before he sighs in defeat. "I love her." he whispers, his voice sounding so vulnerable that it makes your heart clench.

You go straight into hugging him, enveloping his huge body to yours as he starts to cry into your chest. For the first time, he finally breaks in front of someone else rather than himself. He clutches to your body, tears wetting your shirt but you don't mind it, grabbing him even tighter. He cries, something he doesn't usually do in front of everyone. You realize how he kept holding himself in front of Taehyung and Jimin when all he wanted was to cry it out.

"It's okay, you're going to be okay." you tell him, cheeks pressed against his hair that got super long since you've last seen him.

He sniffles, wiping his eyes before he slightly pulls away. "It happened two weeks ago and I'm still such a fucking mess." he scoffs at himself.

"Two weeks ago?" you exclaim, surprised by the new information. "It happened two weeks ago and I know just... now?"

He glares at you and you quickly shut your mouth. "Not everything is about you, Y/N." he reminds you.

Rolling your eyes, you're about to curse at him for being so rude but then you remember his state. He's just hurt and in a way, he's right. "No, that's not what I meant. I just... I'm surprised that you didn't tell me sooner. If it weren't for Jimin, I don't think I'd be here right now." you explain, thinking about all possibilities that could happen.

"I was going to," he mutters, reaching for a bottle of water instead as he takes a few gulps. "But I needed some time to myself. I didn't want anyone to see me like this." he points out towards his slightly puffed eyes.

You just wished he'd tell you sooner. But you don't tell him that. It's not selfish to think that, because you just wanted to be there for him sooner. Nobody should go through such a heartbreak alone. Not when he has you and other two friends willing to be there for him.

"You know that you can tell me anything, right? I'm always here for you." you remind him, flushed cheeks when you see his eyes already set on you.

The friendship between you and Jungkook is mostly surrounded with you teasing each other and in a way, he's like an older brother to you. You don't get all sentimental with each other, even though you're always there for one another. It's an unspoken rule and natural feeling that your friendship has.

"I know," he says softly, giving you the best little smile he can muster. "And I'm so grateful for that. I know I was acting like an asshole and I'm sorry, I just... I'm really happy that you're here."

You don't get to hear such words often, especially coming out of Jungkook's mouth, but that's why you're even more pleased to hear them.

You smile back at him, silently thanking him and also saying that it's okay and you get it. It's quiet for a moment. Jungkook fumbles with his fingers as you silently watch him, noticing a few new tattoos that decorate his honey skin.

"Y/N?" he asks suddenly, causing you to hum in return. " You know when you asked me, if there's something you could do for me?"

"Oh, boy. What is it this time?" you joke, causing him to silently chuckle under his breath.

What could he possibly want to know? The last time he wanted something from you, was to clean his whole apartment because he twisted his ankle. But whatever that comes out of his mouth next, never occurred to you before.

"Can you pretend to be my girlfriend?"

© 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨 (𝐧𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝) | don't forget to reblog ♡

[transbrucewayne]

F1 but it’s ultra specific ship dynamics that I need in order to enjoy the ship:

Versainz: baby’s first situationship (literally pentaltyboxbox’s art is my versainz thesis. “Ay, Max, no. I am not gay and neither are you” 🤨) teammates who weren’t supposed to like each other reluctantly becoming friends and then being intricately connected for the rest of their careers. But totally not in a gay way. Of course.

Chestappen: repressed catholic and some guy who needs dilf pussy so bad he wants to kill himself (this is deeply important to me)

Strollonso: Brat princess Lance. Heros and anti-heroes. I’m on the dark side. Tell Lance not to worry I just want to build a gap with the cars behind. You’re my fucking hero.

Carlando: Baby’s first situationship pt.2?? Lando with a massive crush, first real boyfriend Carlos….i need there to be angst. Lando fell first AND harder, etc.

Britcedes/Gewis: George fumbling all over himself trying to impress Lewis, Lewis just thinking he’s cute no matter what. It’s the coolest man alive/weird little freak he’s obsessed with pairing of my dreams. George: this is my boyfriend he’s cooler than me and also he’s cooler than all of you.

Maxiel: first love married divorced remarried pining missing something that maybe was never there will they won’t they one big game of gay chicken healing from baby’s first situationship etc etc etc (I adore them)

Dando: trying to find solace in another, longing for someone you can’t get back, subversion of expected dynamics (controversial: I fully believe Lando tops in this one). But also. They need to have one brain cell. Lando blabbing on about god knows what. Daniel sweating and popping a vein bc of how much he needs to kiss him.

Twinklaren/Landoscar: third time’s the charm, oh you’re the one I’ve been waiting for, tender glances, young love, first teammate crush syndrome

Danterri: we had something weird in the past. “Find another weed guy I can’t fuck with you…uhhhmm nothing personal I can’t fall in love right now and youre Everything I love so if I ever see you again I’ll never let go of your hand sooo yeah” (we’ve all seen that one web weaving.) Are you dating the female version of me?

Lecciardo: WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED IN VEGAS. Charles needs dick from a guy with unstoppable charisma soooooo bad. Fueling each other’s impulsive sides, etc etc

Sebchal: baby’s first situationship (Charles’ version) (from the vault) I miss you so much I’m going to listen to breakup songs all night long. I still think of you every day. I named you twice in a list of drivers. You may even kiss. If it was the omegaverse Seb is so obviously an alpha.

Brocedes: if it doesn’t make me physically sick to my stomach with anguish I do not want it. I hope you die I hope we both die. Hand in unlovable hand. I still consider him my best friend in my heart. We’re not friends. Are they lovers? Worse.

Chewis (Charles/Lewis. I recognise this is also the name for Checo/Lewis. What is the Charles/Lewis name?) me and the bad bitch I pulled by being in violation of that one article section. You know the post. They suffer together. Kinship in joint pain. You’ve got a long future ahead of you. Praise kink.

Let me know if you want a part 2, if so, send ships you want!

[sukifoof]

hii i was talking about this on twitter so i think i will just copy paste it here cuz i’ll probably delete it there at some point <3 twitter frightens me but i love my mutuals here we are all insane about flowey in the same way

 i think saying “you’re the type of friend i wish i always had” is a really important thing for asriel to admit... this whole time asriel has dealt with so much grief and guilt about chara that it separated the actual person chara from the idealized version of them in his head who he has never stopped grieving. its a huge part of his character that hes unable to view them as they were because that’s just how his ptsd and guilt affects him. as someone who went through a similar thing that kind of grief can mess with your head and how you view yourself and the person who’s gone really badly. the pacifist route, for flowey’s character specifically, is a really good example of how grief and ptsd can make you feel disconnected from yourself, everyone around you, and like if only the person you lost was back everything would be perfectly fine again. the fact that he can admit they weren’t perfect and that he made the right decision is a huge character development that we don’t get to see in the no mercy route because he’s still convinced that this idealized version of them birthed from bereavement will make everything okay. similarly to how he believed toriel might have been able to fix him, he wants to believe there’s someone out there that could somehow return him to who he was before being traumatized, but the reality of it is this is just who he is.

his grief and trauma is a huge part of who he is like it is with real people, but it doesn’t have to be all of him. i think the emphasis the fandom puts on whether chara was Good Or Bad completely misses the point that it doesn’t really. matter i guess?? they were a kid people loved and now they’re gone. we're seeing people deal with the grief this brought and we know so little of who they are because there’s also a degree of separation about who they are to the people they loved as well. idk i hope this makes sense i think a lot about how chara is a kid who hated humanity and calls themself a demon. to me that just shows an EXTREMELY traumatized child with self hatred. i don’t know why there was ever this huge moral argument about chara when they’re literally just a kid with issues. they weren’t taught how to deal with how they felt and likely held themself in lower regard compared to the dreemurrs. its the same thing with asriel, he feels responsible for them being gone and his own trauma. he just wants a friend who can teach him to understand his grief or someone who can at least let him view the situation for how it really is

i just think. flowey is so well written but not understood very well by the fandom because the type of thing he’s gone through is kind of hard to grasp. it’s a weird situation that doesn’t have a completely black or white Is He Or Chara At Fault kind of answer. they were children. people are complicated and want someone to blame when something goes wrong and flowey directed that at himself. hes such a fascinating and well written character i love him dearly i hope u guys understand how insane he makes me <3

[amirasainz]

OH MY GOD! You literally gave us so much today. Actually, I'm in love with you and your page. I had an idea and I was hoping you could write it. Would you be a to write one continuing with dark Alex and Charles were it's been a year and reader it slowly feeling back in love and has a little but of Stockholm syndrome after being trapped with them, they feel as if you can doing anything without them. ❤️❤️❤️💗💗💗

Hii!! So I really tried to do my best here. I'm still pretty new with all of this dark scenario writing. I hope that this is alright

I also want to inform you guys that I am taking a break from all of the Leclerc!Reader stories. So if you have any wishes for the drivers, please send me them.

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo

Part 2 from this

Bound by obsession

The air was thick with the familiar scent of lavender, a fragrance Y/N had grown to associate with the luxury and confinement of her life over the past year. The grand mansion was breathtaking—ornate and lavish, a place anyone would have dreamt of living in. But to Y/N, it was a gilded cage.

It had been a year since the day Alexandra and Charles, her ex- boyfriedn and girlfriend, had stolen her away from her ordinary life. They’d claimed they loved her, needed her, that she was the missing piece of their twisted puzzle. But what they called love felt more like possession, a consuming desire to keep her all to themselves.

At first, Y/N had fought. She’d screamed, begged, tried to run countless times, but their hold on her was ironclad. Slowly, the fight left her. She had no friends, no family—only Alexandra and Charles, who filled her days with constant attention, whispered promises, and suffocating affection. Over time, Y/N’s heart began to betray her, her mind slowly twisting into a version of love that felt like surrender.

---

“Darling, you look so beautiful today,” Charles murmured, his voice smooth like honey as he traced his fingers down Y/N’s arm. They were sitting in the sunlit garden, Charles holding Y/N’s hand possessively while Alexandra lounged beside them, watching with a predatory glint in her eyes.

Y/N smiled softly, her eyes meeting Charles’s warm gaze. “Thank you, Charles…” she replied, her voice quiet. It was hard to keep her emotions straight anymore; their constant attention had worn her down, their sweet words filling the void they had created.

Charles’s thumb brushed over the back of her hand, drawing small circles. “You’re perfect. Our perfect little doll,” he whispered, leaning closer to kiss her cheek. The soft touch sent a shiver down her spine, and she leaned into him unconsciously, finding comfort in the familiar warmth.

Alexandra watched them with a pleased smile, her fingers twirling a lock of Y/N’s hair. “You’re so good for us now, aren’t you, sweetheart?” Alexandra cooed, her tone both mocking and affectionate. She tugged gently, guiding Y/N’s head to rest against her shoulder.

Y/N nodded slowly, feeling Alexandra’s fingers start to braid her hair. She’d grown used to Alexandra’s little rituals—the way she’d sit Y/N down and play with her hair, selecting clothes for her as if she were dressing up a beloved doll. It was infantilizing and degrading, but in a twisted way, it made Y/N feel cared for.

“You like it when I braid your hair, don’t you?” Alexandra asked, her voice almost teasing. Y/N didn’t know if Alexandra wanted an answer, but she nodded anyway.

“Yes… it feels… nice,” Y/N admitted quietly, her eyes fluttering shut as Alexandra’s skilled fingers continued to work. It was a simple pleasure, one she had learned to cherish in her captivity.

Alexandra smiled wider, pleased with the response. “Good girl,” she praised, securing the braid with a ribbon. “You’re such a pretty little thing when you listen.” Alexandra’s hand moved to Y/N’s chin, tilting her head up so their eyes met. “You’d never want to leave us, would you?”

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, Y/N’s mind flashed with memories of her old life—freedom, friends, the sun on her face without fear. But those memories were distant, overshadowed by the warmth and security Alexandra and Charles provided, however twisted it might be.

“I… I don’t want to leave,” Y/N whispered, the words tasting both bitter and sweet on her tongue. She had told herself it was easier this way, that this was her reality now.

Charles’s grip tightened on her hand, pulling her back into his embrace. “That’s right, mon ange. You belong here, with us,” he said, his voice tinged with possessiveness. He pressed a kiss to her temple, his lips lingering. “You’re ours.”

The way he said it made Y/N’s heart flutter. She hated that feeling, hated the way she couldn’t help but lean into him, savoring the closeness. It was wrong—everything about this was wrong. But the lines had blurred so much that she couldn’t tell where her true feelings ended and their manipulation began.

---

Later that evening, Alexandra had chosen an elegant dress for Y/N—soft blue fabric that clung to her body in all the right places. Y/N sat in front of the vanity as Alexandra fussed over her hair, her touch gentle yet controlling.

“You’ll look perfect tonight, just like you always do,” Alexandra said, a satisfied smirk playing on her lips. “We don’t want you hiding away, do we?”

Y/N shook her head. “No… I’ll look nice for you,” she mumbled, staring at her own reflection. She barely recognized the girl staring back—she looked polished, cared for, but there was a dullness in her eyes that told the true story.

Charles entered the room, his expression lighting up at the sight of Y/N. “Oh, you look stunning, chérie,” he praised, moving to stand behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders. His touch was firm, grounding. “We should never let you out of our sight.”

Y/N felt Charles’s fingers kneading her shoulders, his touch sending sparks through her skin. She wanted to pull away, to remind herself that this was all wrong—but instead, she found herself leaning into his touch, craving the warmth and reassurance it provided.

“You’re always so sweet to me,” Y/N murmured, feeling a mix of gratitude and resignation. She had stopped questioning the strange bond they shared. It was easier to play along, to let them coddle her and make her feel special, even if it was all a lie.

Charles chuckled softly, his breath warm against her ear. “That’s because we love you, mon amour. You’re everything to us. We just want you to be happy.”

Alexandra finished braiding Y/N’s hair and stepped back, admiring her handiwork. “Happy and beautiful,” Alexandra corrected, planting a kiss on Y/N’s cheek. “And you are, aren’t you?”

Y/N nodded, forcing a small smile. “Yes… I am,” she said, and for a fleeting moment, she almost believed it.

---

That night, they lay in bed together, Y/N nestled between them, surrounded by their warmth. Alexandra’s arm was draped possessively over her waist, while Charles’s fingers intertwined with hers. It was suffocating, yet oddly comforting.

“You’re safe here with us,” Alexandra whispered, her lips brushing against Y/N’s ear. “We’ll never let anyone hurt you. Never.”

Charles squeezed her hand, pulling it to his chest. “You’re ours forever, Y/N,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “And we’ll take care of you, always.”

Y/N closed her eyes, feeling the weight of their words settle over her. She was theirs—she knew that now. As twisted as it was, they had become her whole world. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

[libraryofgage]

Good Vibrations Three

One | Two

I usually try to throw out updates weekly but I got possessed by the muse for Modern Steve in 80s Hawkins and, like, finished the main chapters for that in a daze hfjdk I still need to write the two epilogues, but needed a little break, so here we are!

Part three has Eddie confirming his suspicions, like two seconds of angst that is immediately thrown out the window, and a little flirting UwU

I hope you enjoy! As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ^_^

----

Something hits Steve in the back of the head. He'd be upset if not for the fact that he's facing away from Dustin and gave the kid paper for the express purpose of throwing if he needs Steve's attention. After much trial and error, the system finally works for them.

Steve sets down the plate he was washing (the aftermath of Dustin asking for grilled cheese sandwiches and annoying Steve until he caved) and turns, drying his hands on a dish towel. "What's up?"

Dustin's chest and arms are sprawled across the table, looking for all intents and purposes that he'd collapsed from sheer boredom or frustration. When Steve speaks, though, he sits up straight so Steve can see his mouth properly. "Can you pick me up tomorrow?"

"I thought your mom was."

"She told me this morning that she got saddled with a last minute thing."

Steve frowns, slowly parsing through Dustin's mouth movement and trying to find the shape of words. He doesn't get all of them, but he gets enough to understand the problem. "Oh," he says, "yeah, sure. Right after school?"

Dustin shakes his head, pushing his biology homework away so he can lean forward. "Hellfire is tomorrow. Eddie says it's gonna be in the math classroom. Can you meet me there at 4:30?"

Somehow, Steve immediately recognizes Eddie's name. Unsurprisingly, it makes him think of the guy, and his mind happily offers up the memory of Eddie laughing on stage. Steve struggles to push the memory aside, at least moving it to a corner until he can properly reminisce later.

"Which math room?" Steve asks, hoping Dustin doesn't notice a longer than normal delay in his response.

He doesn't, if his relieved and happy grin is anything to go by. "213," Dustin says. He then pauses, as if suddenly thinking of something. "Also, uh, maybe wait in the next hall or something. Don't let Eddie see you."

"Why can't Eddie see me?" he asks. Has Eddie been complaining about Steve lately? Has Dustin spent the past week listening to Eddie insult or make fun of Steve for...something he did at the Hideout? Did he not act normal enough?

Well, it's probably not that last one. Robin is great at elbowing Steve when someone is talking to him. She's saved him from numerous awkward situations with that move. It's almost worth the bruise he'll inevitably get from her sharp elbow.

"He won't, like, shut up about you," Dustin says, his nose wrinkling some in disgust and distorting the shape of his mouth. He waits until his expression is under control to add, "He can't get over you attending his gig or something. Keeps saying it's weird that "King Steve" likes metal."

"Oh."

Steve feels his shoulders grow heavy, a weight pressing down on him. He can't hear how Dustin is saying the words, and Dustin's expression isn't animated enough for Steve to glean any kind of tone. But experience has taught Steve that Eddie is probably complaining, even if Dustin isn't saying it outright.

Now that he's thinking about it, it probably was weird for Steve to just show up to a heavy metal gig. He's never shown any sign of liking the genre to others before. Then again, he's pretty skilled at passing for completely "normal" to other people. That results in him being King Steve, though, and that version of him might be all that Eddie can see, which would make his appearance at the Hideout pretty fucking awkward, huh?

Steve is so lost in his thoughts and the feeling of remorse and embarrassment and frustration that he almost misses how Dustin rolls his eyes, his shoulders jerking with a scoff. He pays attention just in time to watch as Dustin says, "Yeah, so if he sees you, he'll probably grill you on your favorite bands or something. He's, like, obsessed with figuring out all the other freak things about you. His words, by the way."

It's a lot all at once, and Steve ends up asking Dustin to repeat himself twice before he can fully comprehend everything. Despite the slightly annoyed look, Dustin doesn't complain. When he finally understands each word, that weight lifts from Steve's shoulders, the sudden emotional whiplash making him feel a little floaty.

"That's why he can't see me?" Steve asks, raising an eyebrow at Dustin and leaning back against the sink.

"Yeah, it'll take forever. It's like when Mom runs into a friend and just stands there talking for a whole hour," Dustin complains, sprawling himself across the table once more when he's done speaking.

Steve snorts and leans over, ruffling his hair and jerking his hand back before Dustin can smack it. "I promise we wouldn't talk for an hour, but I'm not going to avoid Eddie. If he sees me, he sees me."

Dustin doesn't need to know that a small part of Steve really hopes Eddie sees him, deafness and all. And maybe he'll even like what he sees.

----

Eddie Munson is not stupid.

Well, his grades and teachers would beg to differ, so he'll rephrase that.

Eddie Munson is a fantastic DM, which means he regularly takes a big plot twist and sprinkles hints of it throughout each session of a campaign. Doing this means being able to put those puzzle pieces back together, too, and ensuring they lead up to the logical plot twist. So, Eddie's brain is great at seeing some puzzle pieces scattered around and putting them together to make a complete picture, and he's definitely been seeing some puzzle pieces.

Like Steve Harrington never looking over when Eddie first speaks to him. And the way Steve stares at his mouth, his brows slightly furrowed like he's trying to decode something (Eddie would love for this puzzle piece to belong to a "Steve Harrington wants to kiss Eddie Munson" big picture, but he's not delusional). And how Steve needs to be nudged or needs to see someone before realizing they're close to him. And how he didn't seem to understand Eddie's words until he looked down at a notebook Robin had scribbled in.

And that's not even counting the stuff Eddie Munson noticed about Steve in high school. Steve Harrington walked through the halls like someone was hunting him, his shoulders tense and his eyes always flitting around from person to person, like he was scared of someone sneaking up on him. He always seemed to ignore people when they called out to him, and Eddie had once dismissed it as him being an asshole. Steve never actually paid attention in class, either; he'd spend the whole time doodling in his notebook or zoning out while staring at the wall. He didn't even look up when the teacher called on him, and eventually the teachers stopped trying.

So, yeah, Eddie has slowly started piecing the puzzle together, resulting in a picture that he never would have linked to Steve Harrington, of all people. But it's the logical conclusion. It's the brilliant plot twist that makes so much sense when you review previous campaign sessions.

He just needs to test it, to see if he's actually right or if he needs to review the pieces once more.

Eddie's chance comes after Hellfire Club on Wednesday. Their session had finished a little earlier, if only because the players had gotten through Eddie's planned journey faster than intended. The next part couldn't be stopped five minutes in, so Eddie had called it a day and gone to the bathroom while the others talked about their character progression.

In the few minutes it took for him to piss, Steve had strolled into the school and started waiting in the hallway next to the math room. He's leaning against the wall, head tilted down as he reads a small book, his lips turned down into a slight frown as he concentrates.

This is the scene Eddie sees when he rounds the corner, and before he can really think about it, he scurries back to remain out of view. He's not scared of Steve Harrington. He just knows this is the best chance he's got to test his theory. Eddie glances around the corner, watching as Steve turns the page of his book, and he suddenly wants to know what has captured his attention so strongly.

Eddie takes a deep breath and slides around the corner again, sticking close to the wall to remain out of sight. "Hey, Harrington," he says, his volume normal and easy to hear.

Steve doesn't react. He doesn't even twitch or give any indication that he heard Eddie and simply decided to ignore him.

"Haaariiiiingtooonnn," Eddie calls, a little louder and drawing the word out.

Still nothing. Well. Steve frowns a little deeper, turns the page back, and rereads whatever part has tripped him up.

"Steve, you motherfucker," Eddie says, the same volume as before, and this time trying something that might anger him. "Your hair looks ugly," he adds. It's a lie, of course. Steve's hair looks fantastic, and Eddie wants to run his fingers through it.

No reaction, and Eddie is starting to feel brave. He takes a few steps closer, still hugging the wall. "Oh, Stevie," he says, getting a slight grin, "big boy, sweetheart, darling, pretty thing." The endearments easily fall from his lips, hanging in the air with Steve none the wiser.

So. Eddie thinks it's safe to say his theory is correct: Steve Harrington can't hear. And Eddie is suddenly, achingly curious to know more. He wants to see how Steve, with his perfect hair and his stupid little moles and his blinding grin, navigates the world when he can't even hear it. He wants to know how Steve experiences music; he wants to know how many other people know; he wants to know if Steve ever gets frustrated and what he gets frustrated about; he wants to know if Steve's other senses are stronger to balance out his lack of hearing.

He wants to know everything.

Eddie strolls over, standing next to Steve and tapping his shoulder. He feels a little bad when Steve jerks in surprise, sliding back a few steps and looking at Eddie with wide eyes. "Don't do that!" Steve says, his gaze flitting around the hall before he forces himself to calm down and look at Eddie.

"Sorry," Eddie says, hoping his expression tells Steve just how much he means it. "You didn't look up when I called you."

Steve blinks, his lips twitching into an almost wry smile. "I, uh, was really absorbed," he says after a moment, idly holding up his book so Eddie can see "The Bicentennial Man" by Isaac Asimov on the cover.

"Heavy reading," Eddie says, trying to remember if he'd ever seen Steve read science fiction in high school.

Steve shrugs, glancing at the cover with a slight frown. "Dustin and Will were talking about it a few days ago. They seemed to like it. Figured I'd see what the fuss was about," he explains.

"Is it worth the fuss?" Eddie asks.

But Steve doesn't answer because he's still looking at the cover. A few more seconds pass before he sighs and looks up at Eddie. "It's kind of confusing," he admits.

And Eddie can't help himself. He wants the satisfaction of truly knowing he was right, and he wants Steve to know that he knows what's up. So, he asks, "Are you deaf?"

-----

Steve tenses, his shoulders hiking up, and he holds the book closer to his chest like it will somehow shield him. "What....how did you know?" he asks, deciding he doesn't need to try bluffing. Eddie's voice wasn't hesitant. He already knows the answer.

"Just noticed things," Eddie says, shrugging as he steps closer to Steve and grins.

The thing is, Steve hasn't tried hiding his deafness lately. Sure, he would have rather died in high school before letting someone discover he couldn't hear, but now? Now he doesn't really care. He's faced literal monsters; someone just innocently asking if he's deaf shouldn't result in the spike of anxiety that shoots down his spine.

At least, Steve thought he wouldn't care. Apparently, his body didn't get the memo, and years of habit had taken over, putting Steve on the immediate defensive. He clenches his jaw, forces his shoulders to relax, and reminds himself of Dustin's whole "Eddie seems weirdly obsessed with you" comment from the day before.

"Is that a problem or something?" Steve asks, relaxing his shoulder and forcing himself to stay in place.

Eddie pauses, frowning like he hadn't expected Steve to ask him that. "No," he says, the word a little drawn out based on how long his lips linger on the "o" shape. "How long?"

Okay. Steve can handle this. He can already see Eddie's questions following the same path as Robin's and Dustin's when they first learned he was deaf. "I started losing my hearing in elementary school. It was pretty much gone by high school," he explains.

Of all people, Eddie should be the most understanding, right? He probably isn't deaf, but Steve's deafness is something that makes him a freak. Sure, it wasn't super obvious in high school, but it still has to count for something, right? It has to help erase the King Steve persona from Eddie's brain, right?

"That explains a lot," Eddie says, tilting his head slightly and narrowing his eyes like he's trying to filter his memories of Steve through this new lens. "You don't have hearing aids?"

"I, uh, don't usually wear them in public."

"Why not?"

Steve opens his mouth to answer but stops himself. Saying he didn't want people to know in high school would feel shallow, yes, but it would be true. Besides still needing to actually get new ones, he doesn't have much of an excuse for not wearing them now. He frowns slightly, gripping the book in his hand a little tighter. It must make some kind of sound because Eddie's eyes flick down to it before looking back up.

"I didn't want people to know in high school," he finally says, rubbing his thumb over the book's cover in an attempt to expel some of the nervous energy he feels. "If people knew, especially teachers, my grades and stuff would've been blamed on, you know, my deafness. And then my parents would've put me into a special school for others who are deaf or hard of hearing. I didn't really want to get transferred like that, especially in the middle of high school."

"What about now, Stevie? You're not exactly in high school anymore," Eddie says. And did Steve read his lips right? That was his name in the middle, he doesn't doubt that, but...was it changed? There was an extra movement at the end, Eddie's bottom lip pulling back slightly like a long E was thrown in there.

It's not like he can ask, so he shoves the thought away, thinking instead of his crushed and useless hearing aids. His shoulders slump a little at the thought. "My hearing aids are broken, but I don't have enough for new ones yet."

Eddie's eyes narrow again, and he leans a little closer. "Aren't your parents, like, stupidly rich? I mean, I've been to your parties, Harrington, it's not a small house you've got there. Just ask Mommy and Daddy to buy you some new ones," he says.

Steve blinks, trying to grasp the words while also processing just how strongly Eddie's "cigarette smoke-weed-woodsy outdoor" smell overwhelms him. It's not bad (maybe it should be? Steve doesn't think he's ever liked these smells before), but it makes Steve's head feel fuzzy and slow, like he's trying to wade through cotton balls. He blinks again, pushing through the daze to say, "Can you repeat that? You, uh, you spoke too fast."

The smell recedes as Eddie leans back, his lips quirking up into a smile that's more...indulgent than it is mean. "Your parents are rich. Ask them to buy you new ones," Eddie says.

Okay, that's...significantly less words than Eddie said before. Steve frowns slightly, frustration budding in his chest because he wants to know what Eddie said, not what he asked. He feels like he's being left out of a conversation he's actively participating in, and he has to swallow back his immediate, frustration-motivated response.

Eddie doesn't know, he's likely never spoken to a deaf person before. Steve should give him the benefit of the doubt and a little leeway, right? Honestly, Steve is fucking tired of giving people the benefit of the doubt and leeway, but what else is he supposed to do? Blow up? It would be nice in the moment, sure, but the aftermath? The inevitable apology and the potential indignation from the other person? That sounds fucking exhausting. He'd rather complain to Robin later.

"I want to buy my own," Steve says, knowing his sudden shift in demeanor has been noticed by the confused furrow of Eddie's brow.

Before he can say more, Eddie reaches forward, grabbing the sleeves of Steve's sweatshirt. Based on his surprised expression, it was an impulsive move, but Eddie doesn't let go. He just swallows (Steve should not be staring at Eddie's throat like this) and looks at him. "What's wrong?" he asks, and his face is so expressive that Steve doesn't need to hear his tone to know he genuinely cares and wants to know.

Without thinking, Steve blurts out, "I asked what you said. You just repeated what you asked. I want to know everything you said. Every word. I feel like...like you're trying to dumb things down for me, like you don't think I can actually, I don't know, understand everything. I'm deaf, not stupid."

Eddie's eyes widen slightly. "Oh," he says, licking his lips nervously before nodding. "Okay, yeah, it was kind of mean, though," he admits.

"That's worse, actually," Steve says, frowning and gripping the book tightly once more. "I'll just feel like you're mocking me, or getting off on making fun of me when I don't know. Just repeat yourself, word for word."

And Eddie does. He seems uncomfortable doing so, but he speaks a little slower and makes sure Steve can understand each word this go-around. At the end, he adds, "Like I said, kind of mean. Sorry."

Steve watches Eddie for a few seconds before grinning. "It's fine, Eddie," he says, suddenly realizing how close Eddie has gotten and how Eddie is still holding onto his sleeve. And then, to make sure Eddie knows it's okay, he puts on what Robin calls his Bitch Voice and adds, "Besides, Mommy and Daddy don't need to know I've broken another pair. I'd like to live to see next year."

Eddie blinks when he hears the Bitch Voice and perks up slightly, a grin tugging at his lips and his hold on Steve's sleeve tightening slightly. The awkward moment seems to have passed, and Eddie confirms that by asking, "So, what do you really like about heavy metal?"

"I can feel it. Literally. Heavy metal has stronger vibrations, so I can experience it more easily. I don't really know how the words are sung, but I can feel the beat," Steve explains.

"Then, what did you think of our set?" Eddie asks.

He looks a little nervous, and something in Steve settles, relaxing into place. "Like I said, it was great. Especially your song at the end. I haven't really felt a song like that before. Does your band have more original stuff?" he asks. Maybe he can convince Eddie to record some of their songs so Steve can listen to them. Or, even better, just play only their songs at their next gig.

"Of course we do," Eddie says, standing a little straighter and grinning a little wider and looking at Steve like he's put the stars in the sky. "I'll play them for you next time, sweetheart."

Steve blinks at the word he definitely understood at the very end. Before he can ask about it, though, Eddie glances behind Steve and quickly lets go of his sleeve. Not two seconds later, Dustin shoves himself between Eddie and Steve, looking up at him with an eager smile and bright eyes and Steve has the worst feeling.

"Steve! Can we have a movie night at your place?" he asks as the rest of the kids filter in, pushing Eddie further and further back.

"Sure, but you have to call your parents and tell them when we get to my place," Steve says, incredibly grateful he can't hear when Eddie winces at the cheer that comes from the kids.

And then the kids are pushing him down the hall, undoubtedly arguing with each other about what movie to watch first and not giving Steve a chance to say goodbye, or ask if Eddie was serious about playing for him, or ask if Eddie had meant to call him sweetheart or if that was just, somehow, a mistake.

-----

Tag List (the tag list is completely filled up! There definitely wasn't enough room for everyone who requested a tag orz

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[thisapplepielife]

Happy 1st Anniversary, Tuesday's Gone With the Wind.

Twenty-nine years ago in fictional history, Corroded Coffin's plane crashed into the woods of Louisiana.

Thanks and so much love to anyone and everyone that has given this fic a read over the past year. Thanks for braving beyond that opening author's note. Thanks for the love you've given it. Thanks for making me feel seen. You made me feel like this thing that I spent months solely focused on, deep in research, was worth the time invested. You made me feel that it was a story worth telling.

It's my favorite thing I've ever written, and the one that still occupies my thoughts on the regular.

One year ago today, I finished posting it. It's not my most popular fic, not by a long shot. But I don't think it needs to be. It might not be for everyone, and that's okay.

It was for me.

And if it was for you, too, please know how much I appreciate you for reading it, recommending it, or championing it in any way. The audience it found may not have been huge, but the response from those that did read it, was so beyond overwhelmingly supportive and positive.

I said in the beginning that this was a love story. I'll double down on that now, with a year of distance and the continuation of their story in Wildflowers, under my belt.

It's many love stories.

And I miss these versions of them, and the love they all shared.

I miss Eddie Munson, with his big heart that fell fast and hard and forever. I miss Sweetheart and Dragon Slayer. I miss the Eddie that loved wholeheartedly, and despite all the problems he had, that never changed. Steve Harrington arriving in his life was the best thing that ever happened to him, and he knew that, from the start. He was all in.

I miss the young and flawed Gareth Jones, and his love for Di that he sometimes squandered like a goddamn fool. I miss his ride or die friendship with Eddie, that feels as real in my heart, as anything I've ever seen on screen. Gareth has changed how I listen to music, fundamentally. The drums snap to the forefront, now. And sometimes, I'll smile and think, damn, Gareth Jones would play this like a motherfucker.

I miss Jeff and Goodie, and their lifelong friendship, from the cradle to the grave. Jeff, for his even keel and ability to be part of the solution, instead of part of the problem, and Goodie for being exact opposite. The dry-witted, fanner of flames, that often made things (and let's be real, Gareth) a little bit worse, just because he could, for fun.

I miss Road Manager Steve Harrington, with his red milk crate and his unwavering competence and love. If love could have kept that plane in the air, Steve's love for them all would have been enough to do it, without a doubt.

If you haven't read it, and might want to, amazing, thank you. You don't have to read it unspoiled, and I'll even answer spoilery questions by DM if you want me to, but I'll always stand by the option to read it unspoiled existing, for those that do want to just dive in, and see where it lands. Or crashes, as it were.

I can only hope that you get, or have gotten, something out of reading it, because I absolutely got something out of writing it.

They changed me.

Thanks, boys.

Oo-de-lally, oo-de-lally, golly what a day.

[stary-night]

Siffrin and Loop make me so emotional because it's like:

(In Stars and Time Spoilers, through Act 6 and the Two Hats Ending, content warning for mention of canon unhealthy coping mechanisms and self-loathing)

What if you could go into the past during your period of worst mental health and help yourself? What if you could talk to them gently? Offer them companionship and touch, when they're too isolated to be with your loved ones? What if you could remind them to take care of themselves, to sleep enough, to keep going? What if you could help them find the key they lost for the fifth time that week, help them keep appointments, remind them of what they have to do?

What if you realize, part of the way through, that they are less alone than you were? That, you through being there, can act as a guide, as a support system. That... you're stuck in the past. You see your past self, you see how much their friends care about them. You're not sure if you'll ever see your friends, especially that version of them at that point in time, again. Your past self still doesn't know. They don't see it, just like you didn't see it. And you try to remind them, but you can't tell them, you can't make them see.

You watch yourself get desperate. You see all of your most unhealthy coping mechanisms reflected back at you. You know they make it worse, that they don't work long-term, that they cause you so much pain. You try to tell them. You do everything in your power to tell them, before it's too late, before they end up like you. Before they lose everything.

You can't stop them, because they're you and they have the same self-destructive habits you've always had under stress. You can't let them end up like you. Being where you are has to mean something. You tell your friends, who don't recognize you, who will never recognize you, that you need help. And maybe pray to an entity you know better than to believe in, that someone will help you this time. That you won't be alone in your mind, like you always have been, like you are now, trying to desperately to build a future that will never exist for you, because you already fucked it up.

And... it works. They get help. They know they are loved, that they can get better, that their family cares about them. You wonder if you could have had that all along. You wonder if you weren't brave enough, if you didn't try hard enough, if it was possible for you. Is it better if it was? Is it better to have failed at getting the good ending or for it never to have existed, like the light of distant stars, teasing you but always being out of your reach. You can't even measure up to yourself, how can you expect to be enough for anyone else.

And you want to get that happy ending so bad. You miss your friends. You miss being able to build a life for yourself, to have potential. And you worked so hard to help your past self, maybe this is your reward? Maybe that's how the Universe fulfilled your wish. But you look into your eyes, and you see your own fear. Your own grit, your own determination and something different. You see love. For the first time, you feel loved. And it burns. It burns hotter than the starlight that makes up your very being because you are loved and you haven't been in so long and you don't know what to do with it. What is there left to do with it?

But you don't want to fight yourself anymore. You don't want to see yourself suffer. So you leave. And you find something new. And you hope that one day, you can meet again when you're both happy. When you're both ready to be loved, when you can love yourself (and in some way, you think, maybe you already do.)

[lxvsiick]

THE STARS ARE SHINING BRIGHTLY | HAN TAESAN X READER

[PART 2 -- VERSION 2]

PAIRING: ex! han taesan x ex! fem! reader

SUMMARY: After running into his ex, Y/n, Taesan chases after her--and what happens after was all he could ever wish for.

GENRE: fluff?, angst?, exes, imagine

WORDCOUNT: 1.1k

A/N: i guess everyone deserves a happy ending 😒 jk ,, i apologize for the pain i have caused 🙇🏻‍♀️ btw pink and blue go so well together — i love how the title turned out

❝ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄

Every step felt heavy with anticipation, each breath a mix of excitement and anxiety. He didn’t know what he’d say or what he hoped to find, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a chance he couldn’t let slip by.

Finally, he spotted her again, standing on the corner, waiting for a bus. With a deep breath, he approached, trying to steady his racing heart.

“Y/n!” he called out, trying to keep his voice calm and steady.

She turned, a look of surprise crossing her face as she recognized the urgency in his voice. Her eyes widened as they met his, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. Everything around them seemed to disappear and it was only them there. Y/n’s look of surprise turns into a smile, her sparkling eyes meeting him.

“Hi.”

“It’s been a while,” he said, his voice low, struggling to keep his emotions in check. He took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “How... how have you been?”

She gave a small, distant smile. “I’ve been doing better, actually. A lot better. Things are finally looking up.”

Taesan nodded, though her words twisted in his chest. Seeing her happy without him felt like a double-edged sword—he wanted this for her, but it hurt to realize he wasn’t part of her happiness anymore.

“That’s good to hear,” he managed. “I’m really happy for you.” A pause hung between them before he continued, his voice dropping to a more vulnerable tone. “Idol life has been good for me, too, I guess. But... I’ve missed you. You’ve never left my mind. Not once.”

Her smile faltered as she listened, her eyes softening as his words sunk in. She didn’t say anything, but the way she looked at him spoke of memories they both shared, memories that still lingered.

“I regret everything I did,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “The way things ended... I keep replaying it in my mind, wishing I could have done things differently. Better. I’ve thought about you so much, and I’ve been kicking myself every day for letting you go.”

She remained silent, her gaze steady but full of emotion.

“Have you... have you ever missed me?” His voice was barely above a whisper now, laced with a desperate kind of hope.

For a moment, she didn’t answer, her eyes dropping to the ground. But when she spoke, her voice was small, fragile. “I did... I still do.”

His heart jumped at her words. His chest tightened with a hope he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in months. “Then... maybe... maybe we could try again?” he asked, stepping closer to her, his heart on the line. “I promise, I’ll do better this time. I’ll be the person you deserve. Just... give me another chance.”

She looked up at him, uncertainty and love battling in her expression. They stood there, the weight of their shared history hanging between them. Her eyes searched his, and for a moment, it felt like the world stopped.

“I never stopped loving you,” she said quietly, her words tentative, as if she was afraid of what might come next.

He swallowed hard, feeling like his heart might burst. “I never stopped loving you either.”

After what felt like an eternity, she nodded, her eyes filled with both fear and hope. “Okay,” she whispered. “We can try again.”

Relief washed over him, his chest swelling with hope and gratitude. He couldn’t help the smile that broke across his face, genuine and full of emotion. “Thank you,” he breathed. “I promise, I’ll make it right this time.”

As they stood there, the weight of their past seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the possibility of a future together.

❝ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄

The night sky stretched endlessly above, a canvas of twinkling stars that reflected in Y/n’s eyes as she stood on the private balcony, her hands resting gently on the railing. The cool evening breeze played with the curls of her long hair, causing strands to dance around her face. She wore a stunning cream-colored dress that flowed elegantly in the wind, perfectly complementing the glow of the moonlight that bathed her in a soft, ethereal light.

It was a perfect night—peaceful, serene. But a soft sound from behind pulled her from her thoughts. She turned, her gaze falling on Taesan, who was walking towards her, a bouquet of white daisies—her favorite flowers—held in his hands. The sight of him, standing there with that warm, familiar smile, made her heart skip a beat.

"These are for you," he said softly as she walked up to him. His voice was gentle, filled with a tenderness that never seemed to fade, even after all these years.

She took the bouquet, her fingers brushing against his for a brief moment, sending a spark through her. "You remembered," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, her smile lighting up her face.

"How could I ever forget?" he replied with a playful smile, his eyes locked on hers.

Suddenly, music filled the air. She blinked in surprise as the rest of the BOYNEXTDOOR members popped out from behind the door, Sungho strumming a guitar while the others began dancing in sync, clearly having rehearsed this. Laughter bubbled up from her chest as she turned back to him, her heart swelling with affection and love.

But Taesan gently pulled her attention back to him, his hands wrapping around hers as the music continued. His expression grew serious, his eyes soft as he gazed down at her. "These last four years with you... they’ve been the best of my life," he began, his voice full of emotion. "I will always regret letting you go the first time, and I can’t thank you enough for giving us another chance."

Her breath hitched as his words sunk in, her heart racing as she saw the shift in his expression.

"And now," he continued, his voice catching slightly as he dropped down on one knee. The world seemed to slow down around her as he pulled out a small velvet box from his pocket and opened it, revealing a delicate, sparkling ring inside. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?"

Tears instantly brimmed in her eyes as she looked down at him, the love she felt for him overwhelming her. She couldn’t speak for a moment, her throat tight with emotion. All she could do was nod, her tears spilling over as she whispered, "Yes, of course."

The members behind them erupted into cheers, with one of the members dramatically clutching his chest. "Finally! She’s taking him off our hands!" they joked, their voices full of joy as the others continued playing and dancing in celebration.

Laughing through her tears, Y/n dropped to her knees in front of Taesan, pulling him into a tight embrace, her heart full and her future clear. They had found each other again, and this time, they weren’t letting go.

❝ ❞ ✧ ೃ༄

PART ONE | PART TWO VER.1 | MASTERLIST

© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, lxvsiick, 2024

[cry4mina]

Take Me Back to Eden - Ascensionism (Part 4)

(Nayeon x Fem!reader)

Take Me Back to Eden - Choke Hold - Part 1

Take Me Back To Eden - Granite - Part 2

Take Me Back To Eden - Aqua Regia - Part 3

Word Count: 8.5k Angst/Angst/Smut Summary: Reader finds out the truth behind what Jihyo and Nayeon has been up to, she takes the steps to become more independent and heal her grief, only to fall back into old habits. TW: Betrayal, suggestive themes, lying, break ups, cheating, manipulative behavior, anxiety, top!reader x Bottom!nayeon, choking, degradation, truthfully its rough sex but anyways, let me know if I missed anything! A/N: After a reasonable amount of requests I decided to continue the series. I also decided to write smut for the first time. Thank you to @saiiidahyunee @neoplatinum and @miinatozakiii for the help/advice for this part! <3 (srsly, this wouldn't have happened without them)

--

“Did she believe you or do we actually need to stop seeing each other?” 

Pulse radiating in every cell of your body, waiting to see if there’s another text from Jihyo. Absolutely baffled as the lie shatters your consciousness, returning you to the jagged spiral you were still reeling from.

It was true. She did this to you. 3 years of deception and it was all happening right under your nose. 

Knees buckling underneath you as you think back to the conversation you had in the kitchen the night prior. 

The tears she shed, the way she spoke…the way she studied your face… She was acting through the whole thing and you believed her. 

“Nothing has happened since, and nothing like this would ever happen again. I wanted to tell you but the person I was then and the person I am now are two completely different people. Even that version of myself would never dream of hurting you in such a way.”

 Stomach churning at the words previously said, fighting back the hatred growing in you. 

‘Please understand that I would do anything to remove this from my past…our past.” 

Nauseously fighting the tears threatening to spill from your eyes, remembering how your skin felt against hers as you slept next to her the night prior and you cringe knowing it was all fake and you had fallen for it. 

Nayeon’s phone vibrates in your hand again, revealing another text from the other responsible party. 

“We can lay low for a little while and let it all simmer down, if that’s easier. But I don’t want to stop being with you.”

As you stare at the screen, truth reflects back onto your face, flashing through your memories with her. Decorating the house on the holidays, her meeting your parents, anniversaries, going out to dinner; Even the small touches to show affection that intertwined themselves into everyday life hardened your exterior as you built your walls back up brick by brick wondering how long they’ll hold up with the digital reinforcement you’ve stumbled upon.   

The need for the truth pokes at your chest while opening the text thread between her and Jihyo. 

———————————Yesterday 11:34 pm——————————

Jihyo: Y/n didn’t seem to believe me when we spoke, I hope she listens to you or we might have a problem. 11:34pm

Nayeon: We might have a problem then 11:35pm

Nayeon: I don’t know if her and I will make it thru this 11:35pm

Jihyo: Do what u can. We will just have to cover our asses if the company finds out we are sleeping together. 11:37pm

Nayeon: It seems like she can’t really make a decision. I put her to bed a little while ago because she was exhausted. 11:38pm

Nayeon: She did bring me dinner last night… 11:38pm

Nayeon: She actually just came to the living room and def only in underwear…I’ll update u in the morning. 11:40pm

Jihyo: Just because she’s the piece that’s keeping the public and our company from finding out doesn’t mean I want to hear stuff like that, Nayeon. 11:42pm

———————————Today 8:12 am——————————

Jihyo: Did she believe you or do we actually need to stop seeing each other? 8:12am

Jihyo: We can lay low for a little while and let it all simmer down, if that’s easier. But I don’t want to stop being with you. 8:14am

Forgetting to blink as you’re reading the thread, in disbelief that you almost gave them the forgiveness they asked for. Caught between the smoke and mirrors, an illusion painted for the public eye to cover the secret that only they knew. 

Screenshot clicks lightly as you send yourself the evidence and delete the pictures from the text thread as well as Nayeon’s phone. You wanted to be able to look back on this and remind yourself that she was responsible, and that you'd never give her another chance. 

Sliding her phone into your pocket, you walk into the bedroom. 

Nayeon is distracted in the bathroom preparing for your morning shower together. Hearing the door of the shower sliding open and the sound of the head sputtering to start. The clashing of the water hitting the tile mimics the storm you felt brewing up inside of you.  

As your rage builds you quickly grab a backpack out of the closet, unintentionally knocking a tote bag down as you pull the straps. Trinkets of all kinds scatter across the floor, you flinch at the sound and look down at the mess before immediately unzipping the bag.

“Is everything okay, baby?” Nayeon yells from the bathroom, it's muffled by the foam of her toothpaste as you hear her spit into the sink.

Body tensing at the pet name, knowing the illusion of the past 3 years was uncomfortable and devastating. 

“Yes. Just dropped something.” You shout back trying to hide the towering rage that is rocking against the winds of change your digital confirmation created. 

 “Okay, my love, I’ll be waiting for you in the shower.” She sings back trying to play cute with you. 

You roll your eyes while shoving the bag full of everything you’d need for the next few days as quickly as possible. Clothes, charger, wallet, important documents, and your laptop. 

Putting on the first pair of pants you see and not even bothering to change out of the oversized sweater you threw on to cover up while you had your morning coffee. 

Quietly running to the dresser to grab some socks, your foot kicks some of the mess left on the floor. Sighing at the annoyance of it being in your way but it slows down enough to see what the contents were. Jewelry you’d never seen, love notes opened with a wax seal, and countless pictures of Jihyo and Nayeon together. 

Frozen in fury as you take in what you’re unintentionally uncovering, a singular tear drenched in anguish falls - the tap on the photo echoing in your ears. Reaching your limit and the overflow of emotions are about to spill out of you in a slurry of misery and hatred.

Grabbing the specific Polaroid of them kissing, tucking it into your pocket with her phone and leaving everything else where it landed. Preparing for the confrontation, knowing she’ll probably try to cover it again. No more running from it and no more hiding from it, you had her cornered with the proof that she was a liar. 

Hopping onto the counter in the bathroom, you waited for Nayeon to realize you’re there. The shower door is slightly open, she left it for your entrance. Opening her eyes momentarily to see you staring back at her, much like most mornings. 

This morning was different though, after the fight you got into that spread out over a week and the information you got this morning; there was a thickness in the air that wasn’t just steam. Almost visible in how it intimately caressed your heart into a conflicted mess of emotions, waging wars inside your chest.  

 “Aren't you gonna join me? I’ve got a blank canvas for you if you’d like to make more art out of me.” She coyly says, winking at you.

 Your cringe is covered by the steam coated glass, repulsed by the thought of this stranger touching you the way she used to. The trust was no longer there. Being past anger, past sadness, and clinging to the numbness so you could get through this conversation. 

Trying to keep your brain on track when Nayeon steps out of the shower and walks towards you, seductively. A thin layer of sweat is starting to appear on your skin as she gets closer to you, you’re trying to talk yourself out of the thoughts of what would happen if you just showered with her and forgot what you found. 

You can’t do that to yourself, you know that. You would never knowingly accept less than you deserve but your heart was fighting you with every step she took towards you.

She puts her wet hands on your thighs, allowing the material to cling to your skin, “why are you wearing these? Just so I can take them off?” Her pupils are wide as she fixates on your face watching you half glare back at her.

 Swallowing as you try to keep yourself from shaking as the numbness wears off and turns to despair and then shifting erratically to pure anger and then back to despair again. The pattern is familiar, you’ve lived it before a few times. Trying your best to conceal the rapidly changing mood and keep a straight face.

 It seems to go unnoticed as she parts your jean clad legs and slides her waist between them wrapping her arms around your neck. Shivering at the warmth of her skin against yours as her fingers lace through the hair on the back of your head, trying to get you to cave into her wants. 

Your body is definitely reacting to her being this close to you the way it always did. The ache in your core screaming at the familiarity but your mind is repulsed. How many times had she done this with Jihyo? 

Not pulling away, allowing her to set herself up, the same way she let you. Leaning into your ear, lips brushing against its shell as she whispers “I’d love to take this off, if you’ll let me.”

“Do you really think you deserve it after what you’ve done?” sternly leaves your mouth. 

Clench her thighs as you speak, she loves when you talk to her that way. Not realizing that your voice is heavy with a different type of malice, not the usual light hearted mask you wear for her when she wants some roughness. 

 Hands come off your neck and slide under the sweater. She’s relieved you don’t have a bra on as she scratches harshly down your back, like she always did during sexually driven moments much like this one, in an attempt to rile you up more. 

It works for a moment, you groan and chase after her lips as she teasingly pulls away from you. Challenging your power and being a brat, refusing what you were asking for to intentionally make things more heated. Two can play that game.

“Close your eyes and hold your hands out.” Softly spoken while only an inch away from her face. Her half lidded eyes looking up at you for a moment. The sparkle for you is still encapsulated in her big brown eyes. 

Immediately listening, placing full trust in you. Removing her from between your legs, you guide her back and against the glass shower door. It rattles on impact as she leans against it, inciting a gasp from her. 

Her hands are up and out, waiting for whatever you had in store for her.  She’s smiling up at you, eyes closed, intrigued about what you’d place in her digits. 

Reaching into your pocket and pulling out her phone and the picture. Looking at them one more time before placing them directly into her hands, almost as an offering, like it’s your ticket out of this mess you unknowingly found yourself in. 

“You can open them now.” Tone leaving little to mystery as it sneers out of you. 

Her brows furrow as she realizes something isn’t right. Nayeon opens her eyes and looks down at what you’ve placed in her hands. Confusion waves across her face until she sees the image of her and Jihyo kissing, staring back at her. Hearing the gasp leave her lips, a deep gust of air is still not enough for Nayeon as she almost starts to panic.

You’re out of the room in seconds, her quickly following behind you, she grabs onto the sweater leaving a wet handprint that matches the ones on your thighs. 

 “Please, let me explain!” she begs frantically and tugs on the sweater harder to try and get your attention while you’re gathering more necessities for your daily routines. 

“Drop the act, Nayeon. I don’t want to hear anymore from you.” Your tone is growing more callous as time goes on. It roughens up the few soft spots she had even if it was entirely her fault you were going through this life changing event.

 Her face shifts from worried to annoyed as you sprint around the room, not bothering to organize anything being placed into the backpack.

“And where are you going to go, huh?” she asks, tilting her head and dropping her arms to her side heavily, allowing her frustration to show for a split second before she remembers she’s still completely naked and dripping wet from the shower on the rug in your bedroom.

Taking a step forward to get in her face, you startle her, not expecting you, soft gentle y/n, to approach her in such a way. Leaning back when you stepped forward but not breaking eye contact. You watch her leg start to bounce as she gets more anxious realizing you were angry in a way she had never seen, fire behind your eyes noticeable as you adjust your stance to show her you weren’t backing down and you were no longer scared to lose her. 

Movement feeling foreign to her as she’s unable to keep calm like the Nayeon you knew of. Backed into a corner and baring her teeth as you confront her about her wrong doings, is an attempt to control the situation and she was about to try an old tactic that had worked previous to this. 

Playing with the belt loops on your jeans, she brings her voice back to the sweet one you used to know,  “Are you just going to keep running away from me? Or can we talk this out? I thought we were okay. I thought we could get past this together” Retorting in a semi-cooled tone. Eyes watering again and the block of ice in your chest is trying to thaw in you as she leans in to put her satin lips on yours for a small second of contact before you avoid the affection, knowing you’d crumble at the act. Not allowing yourself to fall into her grasp again, knowing she was willing to hurt you in an incomprehensible way, and feel no guilt.  

“That was before I saw those texts and before I found the bag of secret Jihyo shit in the closet, Nayeon!” 

Looking down at the phone you handed her to read the message. The realization of what’s happening washes over her face, it couldn’t be played off as a misunderstanding anymore. She had been caught red handed and had to deal with the consequences. 

Nayeon leaned in harder to her act of fake innocence, insinuating that you were in fact the big bad for violating her trust like she wasn’t the one who burnt yours to crisps and used the ashes as eyeshadow.

“Why did you go through my phone?” She crosses her arms, pushing her breasts together. She’s trying to distract you with multiple tactics but it wasn’t working, her act faltering when scrutinized. . 

Extremely angry, your brain couldn’t see her as anything other than an enemy. “Is that really what you’re worried about right now? Our entire relationship was a false front for you and Jihyo and all you can do is try to flip it on me?! …Who made you like this?” harshly asking just trying to understand what she had to gain from hurting you in such a way. 

“You don’t trust me?” Nayeon says sweetly, touching your torso again. Pulling away roughly, unable to  believe it’s even a question she thought would be a good to say out loud, when you both knew what the answer was. 

 “You have been cheating on me for the entirety of our relationship and you have the audacity to ask if I trust you? Fuck you.I gave you the opportunity to be honest with me and you threw it right back in my fucking face, Nayeon!” laying into her, letting out every drop of anger she caused you through your teeth.

“3 years of what?! You completely ruined everything, our entire relationship was fake so you could fuck Jihyo without suspension! So absolutely not, I don’t trust you in any sense of the word.” voice starting to crack as you tear up, “and to think I was actually going to propose to you” letting the sadness of the future lost memories drain out of you onto the person who caused it all. 

Speechless and not believing that the docile person who was head over heels for her could have such venom to spit. A new light is shining down on you as you display your livid behavior. Oddly, even more attracted to you than she already was, she was in a trance as she realized what you said. 

“You were going to…propose?” Quietly said back to you. Her eyes are saddened as she starts to understand the weight of her choices and all the things that will never happen again between the two of you. The guilt cuts deep, creating a sharp sting in her chest as a heart string popped.  

Rolling your eyes and open the drawer in the kitchen that normally is reserved for “junk” to pull out a little black box, slamming it on the counter. “I really wanted to…” allowing yourself to be vulnerable for a moment as she reaches out to open the jewelry box and sees the perfect ring. 

The pear shaped diamond in the middle was huge, with little diamonds laid into a rose gold band. This is how she described her dream wedding ring to you on your 3rd date. You wrote it down in the notes of your phone for the moment you would need it, thinking she was the one. 

Eyes matching the diamonds, sparking with light as they fill with tears. She never thought about how much you paid attention or how well you knew her. Too wrapped up in playing her role with both you and Jihyo to even think that you were set on her being the one you wanted to spend your life with.  

“I need you to tell me how it started. I need to know why.” speaking cold heartedly, keeping the distance between the two of you. 

“...It did start with a drunken night. That was true. I never tho-” She started as she lowered her eyes. 

“Look at me when you’re talking.” deliberately call her out, rattling her a little bit, her face turns red, eye wide as she goes to speak again.

“I never thought that it would go this far with her. I really was genuinely upset when Jihyo told me what happened the first time. I didn’t remember anything at all and then she convinced me not to say anything and then we hung out a few days later and…it happened again but sober this time and it just never stopped. There was no emotion behind it for me, I swear. I love you, not her.” 

A freight train crashes through you as you reel at the information hitting your ears. 

“You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to claim you love me when you’ve been living in a black light paradise with someone else this entire time.” hissing dispassionately to assert your words.

“But two things can be true at once, like you always say…” throwing back at you with a smirk knowing how much your own rhetoric being used on you makes you angry. 

Aggressively grabbing your backpack again and heading towards the door again, once intimidating, now a way to safety as you jerk it open, feening for escape from the heavy atmosphere. Your steps are quick and precise as you make your exit. 

 “I made a mistake, y/n. She’s not you. She will never be you.” Almost shouted at you as one foot stepped over the threshold. 

 “You were the mistake and I hope your guilt drowns you.” 

– 

An anchor pulls your heart to the bottom of the ocean. You told Nayeon to drown but it was you who couldn’t swim. Pulling harshly at your arteries as you sludge towards your car, feeling as if you’re moving in slow motion just trying to escape the shark infested waters.

Remembering this same feeling from before, but this one was much more certain. With the evidence in front of you, the admission from both parties, and the way Nayeon spoke to you- there was no more safety in who she portrayed herself to be. The illusion has smashed into shards of false love, leaving you to pick up the pieces. 

You drive to Momo’s house, not bothering to call before showing up, you don’t think you could speak anymore, your jaw is tense the entire way there to hold everything in. 

Walking up to the door and hitting the door bell, the dogs bark to alert their owners. The locks click open and the door cracks open to reveal a surprised Momo. 

“Y/n, what are you do-“ cutting her off as you collapse into her arms. You kept it together long enough to get to your best friend, but now the dam was broken and unable to contain the pure pain that was born from the cruelness Nayeon showed you.

Momo drags you into the house and sits you on the same couch you slept on days before, sitting next to you and trying to comfort you as you shake and sob, wrapping your arms around yourself trying to create a sense of safety for yourself that couldn’t be torn from you.

“Y/N, what happened?” Momo is so concerned with your inability to calm down, it’s starting to make her upset. 

Dahyun walks into the room, hearing the commotion. The loudness of your sobs ringing in her ears with her heart sinking into her stomach as she sits on the other side of you, joining Momo’s effort to comfort you. 

Shakily breathing as you try to regulate yourself yet again, this time it feels harder than the last because at least last time there was hope. You are only experiencing extreme sadness and betrayal, with a lot of anger mixed in it but there was no hope present.   

Unaware of how long you’ve been crying as Dahyun gets up “I’ll go make up the guest bedroom.” Rubbing your back as she walks past you. 

“Thank you,” you squeak out through your teeth, struggling to calm down. 

Momo has a look on her face that could cut diamonds. Anger radiating off her cheeks as she grabs her phone, taps it a few times and brings it to her ear quickly, she stands and taps her foot waiting for the other person to answer.  

Nayeon is heard on the other side, “is she with you?” 

Momo’s face is repulsed by this considering the state of you in front of her but she answers the question anyway,

 “Yes, what happened? She’s obviously not okay. Tell me what happened.” Momo’s arms are crossed, standing up she shifts her weight from one leg to the other. 

“I don’t know, she just got upset and left”

“Nayeon, I have known you for years.You’re lying. Y/N wouldn’t just show up sobbing uncontrollably for no reason, so tell me what happened or I'm hanging up.” talking with her hands, raising them in a frustrated manner as the lies keep coming.

“Well if she didn’t want to hurt herself she should have gone through my phone.” annoyance present in Nayeon’s tone.

Momo looks over at you, devastated for the second time on her couch pulling your phone out in silence and showing her the text thread screenshots you had taken earlier.

“It’s not as big of a deal as it’s being made out to be.”

“Are you serious right now?” Momo harshly questions as Nayeon continues. 

“Are you going to question Jihyo like you questioned me? Or are we just gonna pretend like she’s not part of this too?” 

The sharpness in her tone was something you had witnessed before but the taste of her name coming out of Nayeon’s mouth was unbearable.

Momo gasps at the new knowledge that has now been thrown at her. Completely statuesque, as she tries to wrap her mind around what Nayeon just said.

 Momo’s eyes look up on your screen to reveal the name at the top of the text thread: Jihyo  

The rush of emotions she was experiencing was overwhelming to her senses, momo’s voice choked with tears as she spoke to Nayeon.

“Wait…what did you just say? J is Jihyo?!” Momo says in complete disbelief, shocked at not only what she’s reading on the screen but by what she was hearing from one of the parties involved.

“Yes. So please call and interrogate her. Can I speak with my girlfriend now?”

“No, you can’t. I am not friends with people who do this type of thing, Nayeon. How could you do this to y/n?” she shouts through the phone, hunched over with a hand on her knee, trying to understand all the pieces of this complicated puzzle.    

Momo, trying to keep the anger she felt under wraps, started pacing in the room taking laps around the couch as she spoke. 

“Nayeon…are you kidding me? How long has this been going on?” Confused was an understatement, Momo was completely overstimulated with the information she was being given. 

 Never noticing the connection between how close Jihyo and Nayeon were, always sharing hotel rooms on tour, finishing each other’s sentences, the looks across the room, Nayeon staying at Jihyo’s house frequently…it was all starting to add up and Momo is seeing red over the pain of her best friend being hurt beyond belief, and by someone who was supposed to be her family. She was just as angry as you were. 

“Momo, I don’t want to do this right now, Can I please speak to Y/n? I’m trying to save my relationship and not be put under a microscope by you.” 

“I can’t believe you would do this. You spoke of Y/n like she moved mountains for you and this is what you’ve been doing behind her back? I’m disgusted with you and your actions…and I’m pretty sure she’s your ex-girlfriend now but you knew that already, didn’t you?” 

Momo hung up quickly, not caring about what Nayeon had to say back to her. More worried about you and your emotional state than anything Nayeon had to say.

 “Did she tell you why or was it her avoiding the question?” inquiring as she took a seat next to you, giving an apologetic look and a bear hug to try to make you feel better. 

“She told me enough for me to want to leave my home, technically she didn’t even tell me, I found a secret bag of Jihyo stuff in our closet with a bunch of pictures of them together, and one shot of them kissing, wax sealed love letters and jewelry.” Voice cracking and shaking as you bite back more emotion. 

Momo gasps as the story unfolds before her, she can’t believe what she’s hearing. It is so polar opposite of what she expected of her members. She always thought they were kind and loving. She imagines what y/n might be feeling in all of this. 

“I am so sorry. Please let me know how I can help you get through this.” reaching for you to pull you into a warm embrace. 

“Well, I’m definitely going to need to find a new apartment so if you want to help me with that I’d be grateful.” half chuckling through some tears, trying to add a little light into the situation. You hated the idea of someone else being upset because of this situation.

“Consider it done” Dahyun walked back in with swollen eyes, sniffling. She probably overheard the argument Momo just had and was reflecting the same amount of empathy as Momo was. 

“We can start tomorrow!”

—

About 3 weeks went by and you were slowly showing signs of your old self. You were going out with friends again, hanging out with Momo a lot, and starting to become present again, no longer constantly seeing the rewind of Nayeon’s innocence faltering behind your eyes. Still receiving texts from Nayeon at least 2 times a day. They served as a reminder of what once was. 

Momo and Dahyun were patient with you, letting you speak with them about the effects this trauma was having on your mental health. It’s always hard to watch your loved ones go through something this difficult but it was obvious that they were proud of how you were handling it, even if it was hard. They were always there to remind you that you could do hard things. 

Finding a 1 bedroom 1 bathroom that was close to Momo and Dahyun’s, signing the lease immediately. It was a slight upgrade to the studio that you and Nayeon occupied previously. The kitchen was bigger, the natural light was brighter, and the bathroom had a large bathtub that you could fully lay down in, which you were looking forward to. 

Spending a week finding the perfect furniture for it, designing the interior however you wanted and making it your own space without someone else’s opinion in the back of your mind was fun. You enjoyed doing this for yourself, fixating on something that had to do with you alone. You felt the ashes from previous ruin sprouting stems as you tried to move on.

You had really been focusing on yourself, trying to resurrect yourself after total devastation. Pulling out the roots, and planting good ones so later on you could reap the benefits. Changing the perspective of your brain was hard, but well worth it.

Being in a better place mentally and emotionally as your sense of stability was so close to being present again, you thought it was time that you continue with the last step of separating from Nayeon.

There was still some stuff you wanted to get back at your old apartment but you didn’t want to run the risk of Nayeon being there. You had no desire to face her, especially while you were still mending. You decided to reach out to her to let her know you’d be coming by to get the rest of your things. 

“Hey, I’m going to stop by today to get my stuff. I’d really like it if you weren’t there.“ You hesitate to hit send, not wanting to come off in a rude way. Quickly realizing how absurd that was and hit send. 

 “So now you reply? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for weeks… are you doing okay?” almost immediately after the message was delivered, like she has been staring at the thread waiting for you to say something. 

“That’s not your concern anymore. What is your schedule like this week? I won’t be long. I’d just like my things, thank you.” you replied with haste, just wanting this to be over. 

“I’ve got something scheduled at 5 today. You can come then if you really don’t want to see me.” 

You can hear the pout over the text message without any hint of it present in the text. This instinctually sparks sadness in you. Biting the inside of your lip and type out a few replies before deciding to just drop it. A wave of the past just flashed in front of you, causing you to fall into loneliness, something you’d fought to keep at bay. 

Checking the clock and it’s already 3pm, you finish up what you’re doing in the living room and take a cold shower before setting out to the apartment one last time.

–

Stepping into the once familiar place, you are hit with the smell of vanilla and sandalwood. “That’s odd” thinking to yourself, wondering if she’s left a candle burning as you walk in, sliding your shoes off by the door. She always forgot to blow them out after lighting them or would fall asleep on the couch with one lit. 

You were right, but with an added twist, the candle was burning in the center of the coffee table flickering against the shadows in the room around you. The flame was blocked out by the shadow of someone on the couch in the dimly lit space. 

“I thought you had schedules.” sighing, irritate at being met with another moment of dishonesty.

“I just needed to talk to you…” she whispers, she had been crying. Hearing it in her voice and seeing it on her face as she turned her back to the candle, taking in your features like it was the first time she’d ever seen you. A  tinge of hope runs through her, your face must be showing sympathy.               

“I needed you to be faithful and that was too much for you so I don’t really want to do any conversing with you.” asserting that you’re completely vexed by her as you walk into the bedroom to gather the rest of the stuff you were taking with you. 

Following you closely, a habit you used to think was cute as she watches you pick up small knick knacks from your childhood, clothes, and some other important tokens left behind. Sorting through every drawer to make sure you got everything, wanting this to be the last time you’re in the once shared life.    

Almosting touching you with how close her proximity was, she wondered if you’d give her some of your time so she could plead for you to stay when you finally spoke up. 

“Can you stop hovering so I can do what I need to and leave?” 

“Can you just talk to me for a second?” Nayeon replied equally annoyed and choked up as she watched you tuck all she had left of you away. 

Turning around to face her, “Fine! What do you want?” 

You’ve never shown her such apathy, the emptiness that rings in your voice hollows her chest out as she takes a few steps forward, you are surprised by the sudden closeness when she leans in and kisses you roughly. 

You gasp which leaves an opening for her to slide her tongue into your mouth, the neediness pouring out of her drenches you with adrenaline and you slowly succumb to her as she bites your lower lip and tugs gently. The world stops.

Every ounce of love you ever felt for this person came slithering back into your mind for a split second, followed by anger as you remind yourself of the betrayal. 

You can’t believe she’s just throwing herself at you. Body reacting exactly how you would expect when your recent ex partner kisses you like this, the familiarity of her hands on your body sends jolts of comfort and excitement through you and you aren't strong enough to fight the primal urge. 

Trailing her hand up your back under your sweater while keeping you distracted with her mouth and sinking her nails into your shoulders, dragging them slowly down your back, causing you to lean into the kiss even more, moaning into her mouth as she smiles. 

Falling into the trap she was setting and you knew it. 

Hands slowly find their place on her waist, she kisses your jaw whispering sweet nothings into your skin. 

“Baby, please stay” she lays another kiss farther down your jaw

“I know you missed this” laying another kiss

“You are always so hungry for me…show me”

She ghosts her lips up and returns to yours as she kisses you passionately, revealing pure lust as she grips onto you. Bringing your hands up to cup her face, allowing yourself to get lost in the breathy haze, heart pounding as you feel your body temperature rise, effects of the love that once was and the lust that now is. 

Spiraling in the dizzying moment,you and Nayeon sink into each other, closeness returning as you’re swept away by the intense feelings you’re both harboring. Hands are exploring as you fumble around, not allowing space between you as you both collapse onto the bed, hungirly taking each other in as you gain control, Nayeon is lost in the essence of you and it was your turn to hold the power.  

In addition to getting on top of her, you place your knee between her legs- just enough out of reach so that she couldn’t get a good position on it. You were going to give her this moment to remember and you were going to make her earn it.

The heat emanates off her as you rip off your sweater tossing it aside. She’s looking up at you like you put the moon in the sky as you reach your arm around and unhook your bra, letting the straps slide down your arms slowly, her eyes wide with anticipation as you remove it, throwing it on top of the sweater. 

Nayeon’s hands reach up, eyes darkened as she tries to touch you when you slam her hands back down into the softness of the sheets, pinning her to the mattress forcefully above her head, glaring into her with white hot anger.  

“No,” as you hold her in place, your body pressed against hers, faces close enough to feel each other's quickened breath. Nayeon sees the flash of spite in your eyes as you press your mouth on hers, it makes her ache while she is refracting desperation, subtly grinding on your thigh as she lets your tongue dance with hers.

Pulling back from the kiss to admire the sight before you; Nayeon is anchored to the bed by your hands, whimpering and grinding on your leg practically begging for you to fuck her. 

Faces return close enough for your lips to lightly graze, teasing her as you remind her where you stand, “Tell me… does Jihyo excite you like this or is this only for me?” with a sultry nuance. She squirms underneath you as you taunt her, her eyes flickering down to your thigh as she tries to grind into you to get some friction to satiate the ache you’re creating within her, only for you to pull your knee back just enough so she can’t reach it. 

 She whines “y/n…please, it’s only yo-” getting up before getting the full answer and dragging her legs to the edge of the bed letting them bend over the edge, pulling her shirt off frantically, exposing her tits. 

 The knot in her stomach tightens as she watches you become completely carnal, continuing toying with her. Lightly tracing her chest with your finger before you kissed her again, this time more aggressively as if you are claiming what had been yours. She groaned into it, always loving when you got like this, you’re ghosting your finger along the waistband of her sweats as you pull back from the kiss again and attacking her neck leaving a trail of dark marks down to her chest. 

“She’ll have to admire my artwork for the next week and I hope she enjoys it” leaving bite marks and bruises as you descend down slowly.

You take one of her nipples into your mouth and swirl your tongue around it, you can hear her breathing hitch as you roughly pinch the other one. Without letting go of her bud between your fingers you detach your mouth and slide your other hand up to Nayeon’s throat, lightly squeeze and ask “Does Jihyo fuck you like the slut you are? Or does she leave you for me to ruin?” 

Nayeon let out a wail as the words cascaded off your tongue, completely bewildered at what is happening right now as she feels the intoxication of your agitated demeanor wash over her while she grows impatient. Pushing back and trying to take the power from you when you mimic your prior movements and slam her down on the bed, letting her know that wasn’t going to happen.

“Don't. Move.” Stoically said while standing up, sliding her pants and underwear off to reveal a string of arousal clinging to the fabric and the soaked mess that she was. She was already clenching around nothing. 

“Pathetic.” You smirk. 

“Does she ever make you this wet?” as you part her lips with one hand, gathering her arousal at her entrance with your finger, and slowly bring it up to your mouth, sucking it clean. She rolls her hips up at the sensation, body screaming for more. 

“I told you not to move.”

Nayeon whines loudly, “Please, Y/n…touch me” begging for some continuous form of contact and being sure not to move while your stand above her watching as tears well up in her eyes. 

“...so needy… does she make you beg for it like this?” the words daunting as they snake out. 

“You’re so good at lying, I’m sure she thinks you belong to her.” 

“What was it that you said earlier?” following up slyly while lowering yourself between her legs, knees on the floor and arms are wrapped around her thighs, with hands planted on her hips keeping them in place. 

“You’re always so hungry for me…” breathing out as you traces patterns on her lower stomach and bring your face closer to her pussy, 

“…show me” she sighs out as you dive down into her folds, moaning intensely as you tangle yourself between her legs. She feels you devouring her sloppily, not leaving a single place unexplored as she tries to buck her hips into your mouth.

Nayeon is seeing stars as past experiences flood back into memory, senses heightened as you consume her more possessively than usual. She loves this version of you. 

Hands holding onto her so tightly as you start sucking on her clit, she squirms under your grip, squealing at the erratic pattern traced with the tip of your tongue before giving her the rhythm she craved so desperately. 

Nayeon’s breathing gets heavier as you stick to the pace you know she likes, building her up to where you wanted her. The moaning gets louder as you continue lapping at her, hands go up to your hair, locking you in place as you bring her as close to the edge as possible. 

Hearing her high pitched whines and feeling her pussy clench around nothing, completely stopping everything that you are doing.  

“Wha?!-..” she let out a groan that could’ve shattered windows as you stood before her, watching her react to the orgasm being ruined. 

“Why would you do that?!” she groaned out, squeezing her legs together again. You lightly smack her thigh, telling her without words not to. The slap radiates through the room and leaves a small red hand print displayed. 

Enjoying the blissful anguish on her face as you licked the evidence right off your mouth while removing your pants and underwear. Getting on the bed, straddling her, wetness visible as it drips off of you, she looked up at you with wanting eyes, hips still rutting, and knowing exactly where this was going.

“Did you really think I’d give you what you wanted so easily?” you start scooting up so that your knees are on either side of her head, a mere inch from her face.

“You’ll have to earn it.” Leaning forward and head between your legs, tongue out already anticipating the taste of you. 

A gasp echoes in your chest as she licks the inside of your thighs, making sure not to waste a drop of you before taking one big slow lick up your slit, doing that several times, causing you to thrust into her more before attaching her lips to your clit and finding the rhythm she knew you wanted. 

Drowning in her all over again as you feel the knot in your stomach stir, you need more from her but she wasn’t going to give you that right away.

“Naye- ..fuck, just like that -on” you whine her name, slowly start to fuck her face. 

“More.”  Demanding breathlessly, feeling your release building throughout your body, muscles tightening as she shakes her head no, trying not to remove her mouth from you.

“Nay-“  a guttural moan stops you mid sentence, knowing what she wanted from you. 

“Baby…please, I need you” pleasure all consuming, you’re aching for her inside of you.

Before you can ask again, a long finger slides into your core and starts pumping forward to hit your g-spot a few times before adding another finger. 

Another loud moan, as you steadily rock your hips against her mouth, building on the list you were already feeling. Close to breaking, you feel one of her hands slide up to your chest and start tugging on your nipple, that’s what sends you over the edge. 

Throwing your head back as your breath quickens, grinding against her face, with a death grip on her hair. Shaking on top of her as your orgasm rips through you, she keeps going, letting you ride it out. 

“Good girl,” you say breathly as you scoot back to straddle her hips again, body feeling like static as you come down. 

Catching your breath while looking at her cum covered face, you know you aren’t finished with her just yet. Leaning up to you, wrapping her arms around you and kissing you. Tasting yourself on her as you pull her arms off of you.

“I missed the way you taste.” she cooed as you stood up again, half wobbling as you were still recovering. 

“Didn’t I say not to move?” sternly rolls off your tongue, her eyes widen as you push her back down roughly and spit directly onto her pussy. Not that you needed the extra lube, you spread it around her entrance before slamming 2 fingers into her.

“Fuck, Y/n…” she moans as you pump your fingers quickly into her, feeling how wet she is from the orgasm you stole. She thrusts harshly, forcing your digits deeper into her.

“You don’t cum until I say you can.” growled at her from between her legs - peering up to see her face, eyes clamped shut as she leaked out onto the sheets - impatiently waiting for you to stimulate her in some way. 

You can’t help but torture her a little. 

“Does Jihyo make you wet like this? Or is she a shit replacement fuck when I’m not around”

She doesn’t even hear what you’re saying while she’s writhing underneath you, completely fucked out and trying to focus on not cumming while you’re toying with her. Your mouth finds its way to her clit causing a frantic moan to rip through her chest, hands pulling at the sheets as she holds everything back.

“Ca- can I cum please?” She screeches between moans, nodding your head back to her while keeping the same circular motions going with your tongue on her clit, picking up the pace of the fingers inside her as she screams out - back arching, body tense, and clenching down on your fingers as she cums, gushing all over your hand. 

Trying to take a breath, she squeals because you never stop fucking her at a relentless pace; she’s immediately back to moaning your name. 

“Baby, What are yo-” words cut off as she loudly moans, giving her a second to try and finish the sentence. 

“Use your words” as you pick up the pace even more, holding her down onto the mattress with your left hand on her hip, pounding your fingers into her. 

Unable to speak coherently, almost screaming as she tries to formulate sentences. 

“You wanted to cum so bad, so give me another one.” Answering the question she couldn’t ask while snapping into her g-spot, bending down to put your lips on hers again, giving her a taste of herself as she moans into your mouth, unable to hold back from the feeling of being over-stimulated. 

She feels the tension inside her forming again, threatening to burst at any moment when you lean over to ghost your lips over her ear. 

“I bet Jihyo doesn’t make you cum like this.” Violent combustion dispels from her body as she tenses underneath you, screaming into your mouth and sinking her claws into your back while riding out her orgasm.

Both of you lay on the bed, attempting to catch your breath. She rolls over to you, and tries to curl up in your arms but you get up before she can get too comfortable.

“Baby, where are you going? Sleepily stated while staying on the bed.  

Silence as you put your underwear back on.

“Hello?” 

Silence as you slide your pants on 

“…are you leaving?” She says in a sad tone, leaning up on her elbows, watching you put your shirt on and gather all the stuff you came to get. 

“Yup.” 

She is in complete disbelief as you walk out of the bedroom door, hearing you put your shoes on in the kitchen and then hearing the door open. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?…what is that on your neck?” heard from the kitchen. Nayeon’s eyes widen as she realizes the time and the plans she made…with Jihyo. 

“I don’t really think she will be much use to you tonight but you’re more than welcome to try.” You say condescendingly to Jihyo as she stares at you about to walk out. 

“Oh, by the way” , turning your head to her as you open the door.

“I hope you like the way I taste. Enjoy.” smiling at her as you walk right out of the apartment. She stares at the front door in disbelief as she’s figuring out her next move, now in a similar position to where you were.

“Nayeon!” screamed loud enough for you to hear while you’re walking toward the elevator. Not even being able to help the smirk across your face knowing she’s about to get an earful. Laughing to yourself as you call the elevator.

-

Starting the ride home, you think about exactly what just happened. Unable to believe you allowed yourself to fuck Nayeon and act like that towards Jihyo. Thinking about it not with regret, but with a blend of malice and sadness. They were both important to you, previously but that’s reality anymore.

Looking into the rearview mirror at the complex behind you, almost a far-well glance for you as your phone vibrates in your pocket. 

Pulling it out to see Jihyo’s name across the top and hit the end button, sending her straight to voicemail. She calls again, same response. The third time your phone vibrates, you answer it 

“Can you stop calling me? I obviously don't want to talk to you.” sounding heavily annoyed. 

“…Y/n?” A familiar softness rings on the other line as you look at the phone number that isn’t saved.

“Oh…uhm, sorry…I thought this was Jihyo. I don’t have this number saved in my phone…”

“That’s alright” a small chuckle follows, “It’s Mina.”

"Mina?"

---

Take me Back to Eden - The Summoning - Part 5

[evolnoomym]

1. This is me trying

Sugar-Daddy!Joel Miller x f!OC

General Masterlist | „Runaway Butterfly 🦋“ Masterlist

Summary: You may have gotten out, but the damage is done. As you look back on the past you take a step forward in the present.

Rating: 18+ explicit content mdni!!!!

Word count: 2k

Warnings: no y/n, f!reader, this is how my first OC Moon got born, childhood abuse, self hatred, alludes to sa & suicide attempt(s), 2 separate instances of underage OC getting taken advantage of, nothing to graphic, Weed consumption, panic attack, OC sexualizes herself, she has tits and ass

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: This is the first chapter of my my first Series, it’s been sitting in my notes basically for about 3 months. (Can we believe I’ve been here for 3 months already 😅) I know it’s rather short but the following chapters will be a lot longer. No Joel except in photos, also the Hawaiian Flannel he wears in one of those is the same as @strang3lov3 owns, hers is inspired by Jim Hopper. Bug was also the one that told me to write, so it’s all thanks to her 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

Shoutout to @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune for the dividers 🫶🏻

Big thank you to for beta reading @fhatbhabiee & @jennaispunk 🦋🦋🦋

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly 👌🏻

Technically you are missing, you didn’t tell them where you’d go, they didn’t even knew you’d go at all. Though, you are sure that they are happy to be ridden of the problem, connecting all of them.

They took your pride, confidence, dignity and hope. They clipped your wings early on so you’d never get away, no chance at getting out of this nightmare. Always destined to be the black sheep, the picture-perfect scapegoat for all of them, and whenever something went wrong you got blamed.

No wonder you started to hate yourself, believing their cruel words. You were never good enough and they made you think it would be better if you would just be gone.

They tore you apart, made you hate the girl in the mirror till you just wanted to give up, they put all the blame on you, they used you as a little girl sized punching bag, they made you believe that everybody grows up that way.

Since both of your parents were equally unstable people, it forced you to grow up quickly, so you could take care of them. Never would you know who that real version of yourself could’ve been, without all the trauma, a loss to carry forever.

How should you have known that what happened was wrong, if you never knew anything else. You thought the violence and the loneliness was part of being a little girl.

With time you became something akin to a shapeshifter, trying to be whatever it took to fulfill their desires, if it meant to be loved. Even just the tiniest amount of recognition, was worth giving yourself up.

But those closest betrayed you. Turns out it was all for nothing at all. All the sacrifices you made were so entirely useless, breaking yourself down to become the version they might’ve liked best, trying fit the shape of their choice and satisfy their deranged ego’s.

You scraped together any amount of savings you still had and sold everything you owned that was worth anything. Your Dad and Grandma gave you some money and that was it.

They had pushed you so far, you felt the need to flee to an entirely different continent, almost a 15 hour fly and 525 miles away from what was supposed to be home, that’s what it took to get some semblance of freedom and peace. Austin became your home, it was a fresh start and that’s exactly what was needed.

To much happened, to many unforgivable occurrences. You couldn’t ever heal in the place they broke you in, surrounded by abusers. They might have forgotten, painted an entirely new picture of the truth for themselves, but you’ll always remember what really went down.

You could still vividly remember your brother’s frantic calls once he realized you were gone. He couldn’t believe you’d really go through on that childish silly dream, he always laughed at you for saying, you’d just pack up one day and leave everything behind.

Guess he’s not laughing anymore.

After countless attempts you finally gave in and picked up, only to met by loud thundering voices yelling at you. It was all about how insane you must be, so incredibly selfish, overly dramatic, over-emotional and weak for simply running away.

A coward.

As always it’s just about them, their feelings and what would be best for them. No care for what you’d want and what the best for you could be.

You tolerated more than anyone else would’ve, before ending the call. It was just an accumulation of empty threats, supposed to put you back in line, but it did the opposite. That phone call was the last time you’d speak to them.

8 months have passed since leaving, its now May and here you sit lounging in the living room of your tiny two-room flat. The soft, grey, cloud-like couch was one of your best investments, making it your second favorite place besides your bed.

Its Friday. The clock shows that it’s close to 6 pm, the early-evening breeze flows in through the open balcony and alongside the bustling noises of the streets outside. Cars honking, tires screeching, kids yelling, people laughing and birds chirping, all of it reminds of the overwhelming world waiting outside of your safe bubble.

You just pulled out your rolling tray, trying to quiet your mind, you’ve barely finished licking the paper. When your phone suddenly goes *ping* *ping*, a sound you haven’t heard before.

Normally that might make you anxious but today you are just annoyed by any sort of interruption to your routine.

„Ughhh.”

You begrudgingly get up to retrieve your phone from the kitchen counter. When you reach it and take a look at the screen you immediately understand what caused the strange sound.

A notification for the Sugar-Daddy website you had started using earlier this week. You have tried those odd websites before, at 16 thinking it would be a good idea. Back then you were already after the attention of a mature, wealthy and significantly older Men.

Looking back you always had a weird infatuation with men outside your age range.

Your first kiss happened, when you were 13 and still played with dolls. He was 21 and had just gotten his drivers license, already moved out and had a job. He took you on a walk, then sat down on an old park bench and just kissed you which felt like heaven,at the time. He was your Bestfriend’s older brother who knew exactly how madly in love you were with him.

Two years later, at 15, you thought that 25 year old police apprentice was seriously interested in you, convinced he’d make you his. But, no, he wanted to fuck a minor, he was after the thrill of something tight and young, to be the first to break you in and then throw you away once you served your purpose.

Even though you were foolish and naive, the perfect opportunity for him to use, it seemed your desperate want for genuine love chased him away before he could go in for the kill.

In those instances you were lucky that nothin worse happened, but at 17 the luck had run out or maybe what happened is what you get for making the mistake of trusting.

It was the friendly guy in your semester group, the one who was troubled himself but made you feel like it’s okay, he seemed to understand you. He became a good friend, he made you feel less alone and in the end he became the biggest nightmare.

Your trust was already broken and played with many times before him, but what he did was one too much. He changed the way you viewed the world, the way you lived.

You were deeply afraid of ever running in to him again, and when it happened you could practically feel the world stop spinning.

It was just a worst case scenario that never came true until it did. You remember that day like it was yesterday, it was supposed to be a quiet run to the grocery store, shopping with a friend. Standing in the bread aisle, you were waiting beside the cart for your friend to make her decision. You just stared down at the ground for a split second before looking back up and there he was. Staring at you with this awful smile of his. Ringing in your ears, shivers running down your spine and shaking hands were all you needed to know that getting out of there was more than necessary.

As you stood at the cash register the thought that it might not have been him weaseled itself into your head. The hope that it might’ve been just some mix-up got crushed when a voice behind you spoke up. That voice, the way he talks, you would recognize it anywhere. He was right there, the monster who looked so nice in the beginning was just a couple inches away. You could practically feel him breathe down your neck, just like he did that night. Keeping your composure was the biggest challenge.

Afterwards on the way home, in your friends car you broke down, never ever would you want him that close again. He contributed to you wanting to get away.

Now at 21, even after everything that happened, you thought about giving the Sugar-Daddy thing one last chance. The money would be nice, of course it would, living free without having to worry, having someone who takes care of you and you get to just enjoy living, is the dream.

You wanted to experience that, so the Profil was created, a few pictures were added showing your face, one displayed a peak of cleavage and another with focus on your backside, wearing tight pants that accentuate your plush ass all while you are just sweetly gazing over your shoulder.

Those photos were choosen with good reasoning, you believed that showing skin would attract more attention from the Sugar-Daddy’s.

A classmate once told you „You know...the only fuckable thing about you is that set of tits and that ass. Nothin else, well except maybe ur mouth,“ all while smugly laughing.

And he wasn’t the only one who said shit like that, so you believed it, showin off the assets it was and it worked but none of these man were really what you were looking for.

After 2 days of being flooded with messages, little to nothing came through anymore which you were a bit happy about, since the overwhelming attention was too much too quickly.

You are a recluse, three friends that’s all you got, two of them not even living in Austin. A lot of times you just want to be alone with yourself. Branching out like 6 years ago is not your style anymore and you started to regret putting yourself out there like this. You would’ve probably deleted the profile if it wasn’t for the awfully handsome Man who apparently took a look at your profile which caused the whole strange notification-sound.

You could only see his name “Joel Miller” but that was enough to peak your interest.

You take your phone, walk back to the couch and sit down. You scutch backwards till you can feel the pillow at your back to lean against. You open his profile and your mouth goes dry instantly. He looks to be about 40 ish, his brown-grey streaked locks are neatly styled, a well groomed beard adorned his face and those grey patches certainly made you squirm in place.

They showed his age and that is what turned you on. His amber brown orbs were quickly pulling you in. In some of his photos he wore expensive lookin suits, all highly professional. In others he looked more casual, wearing flannels and even a cute hawaiian shirt in a picture that must’ve been taken on a beach.

He looked big, 6ft3 tall, tan skin, with broad shoulders, biceps that could crush you and his hands, oh they are a sight to behold, you thought of what he could possibly to with them. How would they feel on your body, holding your hand, caressing your face, stroking your head or squeezing your waist.

You feel your cheeks get warm, heart rate picking up and there is a tremble in your breathing, all because of him.

You can already imagine how much power he would have over you with his entire body, you want that.

With all the gawking and fanning you lost track of the time, 45 minutes where spend looking at him, that realization made you feel a bit embarrassed but it turned into shock when the *Ping* *Ping* sound of again, this time with a notification that read ”Congratulations, The verified Sugar-Daddy has sent you a message don’t let him wait to long, swipe here to answer,“ and then his name ”...Joel Miller“.

Maybe he would be different to those before him, maybe you got your luck back and so you decided swipe.

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻

People I think might be interested: @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelmillerisapunk @joelslegalwhre @punkshort @burntheedges @almostfoxglove @taeslarityy @joelsdagger @littlemisspascal

Taglist 🦋: @joelalorian @msjarvis @stevie75 @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @beefrobeefcal @baronessvonglitter @sherala007 @moonlitbirdie @thundermartini @sjc7542

Please let me know if you want to be added to the taglist or taken off 🫶🏻

[locomoqo]

I love your writing girlie 🫶. Can I request Jake Kim x ex-gf reader who visits him in prison and she catches feelings again. Thank you

maybe this time

— jake kim x gn!reader

details: kind of angstyyy?

A/N: jake can act nonchalant all he wants, it won't work !!

It had been months since Jake last saw you. The first time you visited him in juvie, you fought—angry words exchanged, both too stubborn to back down. You broke up that day. Jake convinced himself it was for the best, that you didn’t belong in his world. But deep down, the memory of you walking away still stung.

Now, as he sat in the visitation room waiting, a familiar unease crept in. He wasn’t expecting you today. In fact, he hadn’t expected to see you ever again. Jerry had asked you to come, but Jake didn’t think you actually would.

Then the door opened, and there you were.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. You stood there, looking at him with the same eyes he remembered so well—the ones that used to light up whenever you two spent even a second together. But now, there was something different, more hesitant. You sat down across from him, and both of you just… stared.

“Jerry told me you… needed someone,” you began, breaking the silence. Your voice was softer than he remembered, tugging at something inside him.

“I didn’t ask him to do that,” Jake replied, his voice low and guarded, though he couldn’t deny the way his heart tightened at the sight of you. He hadn’t realized how much he missed you until now.

“I know,” you murmured. “But I came anyway.”

The weight of your past hung between you like a heavy curtain. You’d both been through so much—fights, mistakes, misunderstandings. Yet here you were, sitting across from him in this cold, sterile room.

Jake leaned back in his chair, trying to keep his emotions in check. He had changed since the last time you saw each other—he was harder, more distant. The old Jake, who cared about fairness and ideals, was buried under the weight of revenge and survival. But seeing you again... it stirred something inside him.

“Why?” he asked quietly. “After everything, why would you come?” The words felt tight in his throat.

You hesitated, looking down at your hands. “I don’t know, Jake. Maybe because I thought... I thought there was still something left.”

He studied your face, those familiar features that still made his chest ache. There was a vulnerability in your eyes that hadn’t been there the last time you spoke. You weren’t angry like before. This time, it felt like you were searching for something—for him.

“I don’t want you in this life,” Jake said after a long pause. “You deserve better.” The words felt heavy, as though he was pushing them out with all his strength.

“And what if I don’t want better? What if I want you?” Your voice cracked slightly, catching him off guard. The walls he’d built around himself began to crumble, piece by piece.

He didn’t have an answer. All the anger and resentment from your last fight seemed so distant now. What remained was the raw, undeniable pull he still felt toward you.

You sighed softly, running a hand through your hair. “I’m not saying we can fix everything, Jake. I just… I just needed to see you. I thought I’d moved on, but...” Your voice trailed off as your eyes met his.

Jake clenched his jaw, torn between the hardened version of himself and the part that longed to reach out to you, to pull you back into his life.

“I never stopped thinking about you,” he finally admitted, the words rough and honest. “But I didn’t think you’d ever come back.”

“..I didn’t think I would either.” You gave him a small, sad smile.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Jake felt a flicker of hope. It wasn’t much, and he wasn’t sure where your relationship could go from here...but seeing you sitting there, still willing to give him a chance, made the world feel a little less dark.

You both sat in silence for a moment longer before you reached across the table, your fingers pressing against the glass. “Maybe we can figure this out together,” you said softly, your eyes filled with a warmth that made his chest tighten.

Jake’s calloused fingers came up to line up with yours on the glass. Despite the glass being a barrier, it still felt like he was really touching you. The simple act reminded him of everything he had missed. He didn’t know if things could be fixed, but for the first time in a long while, he felt like he didn’t have to face everything alone.

“Maybe,” he whispered, his voice low and rough, but there was a glimmer of something new in his eyes.

Maybe. Just maybe, you two could give it one more shot.

[trashmouth-richie]

hi, ziggy! ahhh i missed hih ❤️ could you pretty please do something for jealous!eddie where maybe somebody flirts with tooty because she got that milf glow after she had the babies lmao ily ❤️

anon💕💕 thank you for the req! this took a little spin and has an open ending, but!!! the twins are in this and some other familiar faces ❤️ might get a part 2? who knows!

a night out without the kids. almost an unheard of event. but tonight corroded coffin were performing their annual concert the night before halloween.

sissy & oz toted their overnight bags up the paved sidewalk to grandma and grandpa’s house— the same house you had once called home when the wheeler’s took you in as a teen.

reaching the front door eddie squats to eye level with the twin three year olds. “okay you two,” he says in his fatherly tone, “last time you stayed the night grandpa said you terrorized the cat.”

“i no do it daddy,” sissy speaks her little voice high pitched and tattling, “ows chaseded hims.”

a frown spreads on her brothers face his brown eyes pleading, “i did not! sissy made tinky swim in the potty!”

eddie bites his lip to hide a laugh and you take a deep breath, “that’s another thing, the cat’s name is bruce, not stinky.”

“but mama,” sissy complains, head held high in a defiant pose— one eddie recognizes as a mini version of his wife, “boose 's hard to say.”

eddie ruffles her hair and stands up, talking out of the side of his mouth, “always arguing like someone else i know,”

his large hand slides down the curve of your ass pinching the leather fabric snug on your skin, giving it a tight little squeeze.

“eddie!” you scold, swatting his hand away, “not in front of the babies.”

he grabs your waist and pulls you back into him before you can rap your knuckles on the front door. his mouth is hot in your ear, “sorry mama,” he purrs, dancing his tongue on the shell of your ear, “you just look so fucking hot tonight.”

sissy and oz are both slapping the door with both palms as it swings inward. “who’s makin’ all that racket?!”

“gwampa! it’s us!”

“issy and ows!”

wayne smiles as big as he always did when his grandbabies visited, “are you sure y’all ain’t no robbers are ya?”

“gwampa’s silly, daddy!” oz squeaks, squeezing wayne tight around his leg.

eddie grins and chuckles, “aww nah buddy that word is ‘senile’”

you smack eddie in the chest and usher the kids inside to play with their cousin, alex. “thanks for watching them tonight, we really appreciate it,” you say to wayne reaching through the threshold and giving him a hug.

“ah, ain’t no problem,” wayne says flipping eddie the bird behind your back, “karen and i love these little turds.”

“u too oh two be good for grandpa and grandma okay? eddie hollers, “be nice to the cat, sissy… i’m talkin’ to you.”

her little nose wrinkles into a pout and her brows furrow together.

“swear to christ himself, that kid is the spittin’ image of you, tooty.”

“god help me.” eddie pouts, “i’m gonna go gray before i’m forty.”

—

you kiss the kids goodbye and wave from the windows of your jeep before heading to the hideout. eddie looked particularly good tonight, leather pants, a cut off shirt, he even let you smear some eyeliner on his eyelids before tonight’s gig.

“nervous?” you ask, carrying some cords from eddie’s old van that now belonged to big d.

gareth walks past you with an amp, “not really, the hideouts like home away from home, makes me feel 18 again.”

you smile and ruffle his still thick curls, “will coming tonight?”

a sad look replaces his smile, “haven’t talked to him in a week… last i heard from jonathan he was staying with joyce and hopper.”

“he’ll come around man,” eddie says coming through the back door, “he loves you.”

“yeah, i hope.”

—

the boys— men now— rocked a killer show, fans still screaming for the band even though half of them were married and the lead singer had two kids.

you were front in center, in your designated spot that you always stood after the first show where eddie sang ‘lady evil’ just for you.

now you were sporting a new homemade shirt, ‘sitter’ crossed out with ‘mama’ his old leather jacket on your shoulders.

a hand sits on your lower back you giggle, “jeez nance, how drunk are you?”

only it wasn’t nancy, but a random guy. burly and tall, a thick beard on his face matching the short hair on his head, balancing a cowboy. you didn’t recognize him from anywhere and you pull back with a shocked face,

he smiles and you can smell liquor on his breath as he leans in real close, “been watchin’ you all night little darlin’ looks like you need a drink.”

you scowl and turn away from him, looking for jonathan and nancy but they’re nowhere to be found.

“hey,” he blunders stumbling towards you, “you like cowboys?”

you don’t want to give him the time of day or even the satisfaction of a tasteful retort so you do your best to ignore him, looking at eddie as he turns to thrash the guitar riff with jeff.

eddie turns back around to continue the song and shoots you a wink, the same time a big sloppy pair of lips press on your cheek, hard and unwelcoming.

you didn’t see eddie’s eyes turn to black or the way he dropped the neck of his guitar hands balled into fist, you were seeing your own scarlet red, turning and slapping the face of the drunk asphalt “cowboy”.

eddie cuts the band and grabs the mic, “hey fucker!” he pushes his lips in a smooch and whistles like a dog, “here boy, up here.. yeah you— the guy who just got slapped.”

cowboy slap face looked up to the band, “what?”

“you must be new to town, huh? a drifter maybe?”

he lifts his head and spits on the ground, “what’s it to you?”

eddie laughs a little crazy-like, “… that,” he says pointing to you, “is my wife… and i’m sure you don’t know this or maybe your marbles are a little rattled up there with the cobwebs, but..” he jumps from the stage in a dramatic flare, wet hair bouncing behind him, skin slicked in sweat.

he tossing the mic behind him, standing tall and flicking the brim of the guys hat, toe to toe. “i’m not afraid to kill a man.”

“you’re bluffin’,”

“wouldn’t be my first, and for her,” he says moving you behind him, “won’t be my last,”

….

[madaqueue]

eternally, yours

chapter 7 | servitude

synopsis: 'forever' is a peculiar concept - how can something persist, unchanged, throughout time? when our bodies halt their aging, do our minds continue to evolve? do our hearts? choso was comfortable with his version of forever, one of solitary loneliness; that is, until he meets you. forced to confront the harsh realities of being human, the fragility of life, his definition of 'forever' changes as he stares down the barrel of eternity.

pairing: vampire!choso kamo x f!reader

themes/content: non-curse modern au. fluff, angst, smut. language, mentions of death/loss, mentions of blood, oral (f receiving). 18+, MDNI

word count: 6.3k

a/n: sorry this took me AGES lmao been in a real gojo brainrot moment the past few weeks but i hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me xoxo

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Choso is a patient man. Part of it is innate, sure, but more than that, his patience was carefully crafted, curated through experience. He was made into the man he is today, a good man. But even good men get pushed to their limits.

Which is why he has moments where it takes everything in him not to scream; he wants to grab anyone who dares to walk past him by the shoulders, nails digging into their skin, and force them to listen. He wants to create a captive audience, any outlet for the unfamiliar feelings constantly bubbling over inside of him, a volcano threatening to erupt. It’s too hot, too violent.

Sometimes, he thinks there must be something other than blood coursing through your veins - something mysterious, something addicting. That’s why he can’t stop thinking about you, that’s why his heart pounds and hands shake when he’s with you.

Since the day he met you, you have slowly overtaken his soul, his thoughts, his very being, watering the garden of his life until it’s overgrown. He would profess his love to every person who could hear it, a proclamation of his undying dedication. Every moment without you he feels empty, as though a piece of his soul is missing, only completed when your warmth bleeds into his.

And you, you don’t seem to notice; or, at least you don’t mind if you do. It’s peaceful, to blend into another person like this, to let him see you and be seen by you. Of course there are hurdles, but he easily lifts you over them without a second thought, letting you run forward into the future together.

One recurring challenge you’ve come to note is his diet. As winter settles, the two of you become increasingly creative to work around the less tasteful components of vampirism, the primary one haunting the back of your thoughts: blood. He’s always careful to avoid letting you see him feed, rinsing any remaining crimson from his teeth before rejoining your company. Outings to restaurants become increasingly exhausting, growing tired of explaining to strangers that he just “isn’t hungry.” Instead, you opt to stay inside under the comfort of your home, simply content in each other’s company. It’s easier here, there are fewer risks, it’s safer, both for you and him.

Which is why it comes as a surprise when Choso arrives at your apartment one morning after his overnight hospital shift, letting himself in with the key you had given him a few weeks ago out of ease due to his disruptive work schedule, grinning ear to ear. “I have an idea,” he whispers as he climbs under the covers of your bed, careful to not jostle you as you rouse yourself from sleep.

“Oh?” you murmur, tiredness still clouding your vision as you rub your eyes.

“It’s a surprise,” he smiles, “but whenever you’re awake enough, get yourself ready, and wear something cute.” Nuzzling into you, he wraps his arms around your waist, heat radiating off your body. “Oh, and warm,” he remembers before pulling himself away. “I’ll be back in a bit,” he hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your head, “love you.”

“Love you,” you hum as your eyes flutter closed, the depths of sleep pulling you back. The bed shifts as Choso removes himself from it, rustling echoing through your apartment before you hear your front door close again as he leaves.

You’re awoken again a few hours later to the sweet scent of coffee hitting your nose, Choso’s deep voice humming some song you don’t quite recognize from the kitchen. As the sheets rustle beneath your movements, he suddenly appears at your side, a sweet grin plastered across his face. “G’morning,” he whispers, gently kissing your forehead. Your skin is warm under his lips, his cool fingers resting against your cheeks still flushed from sleep. Setting down a mug atop your bedside table, he continues, “I got your favorite from that coffee shop down the street.”

You tiredly smile up at him, his small acts of devotion a consistent light in your life. Every chance he gets to show you how much he thinks of you he takes, your presence a constant hum in the back of his mind, every thought punctuated with you.

Slowly rising, he never leaves your side as you get ready, his arms wrapped around you while you brush your teeth, his fingers lazily combing through your hair as you style it, his lips trailing every bare inch of your skin as you get dressed.

When you finally pull on a sweater and skirt, fuzzy socks lining your calves, he feels his heart flutter in his chest. Absolute, utter perfection. There’s a softness to you, a tenderness that resides within your body. It contrasts his sharpness, the harsh edges he’s been forced to develop; every moment with you he feels them wearing away, dulling into a gentleness he’s never known. Yet, one he has grown to crave.

Walking hand-in-hand through the snow-covered city, his grand surprise is revealed as he leads you to a small lake hidden behind brick facades of unfamiliar buildings. The snow crunches beneath your feet as you continue down the thin gravel path until you’re met with a freshly-shoveled bench along the outskirts of the pond. Setting the gym bag that had been slung over his shoulder onto the ground, he gestures for you to sit. Complying, he unzips one of the side compartments, revealing a crisp, white pair of ice skates.

“May I?” he asks with a hesitant smile, placing the skates onto the ground. A grin tugs at your lips as you nod, a blush forming across your cheeks. He planned this? When did he have the time to find this place, to prepare all of this? Removing your boots he replaces them with the ice skates, meticulously tying them snugly up to your ankles.

Kneeling on the ground he pulls out another pair, black and much less pristine, as he settles next to you on the bench. Lacing up his own skates, he rises, holding his hand out to you. As your fingers intertwine with his, the coolness of his skin sends a shiver through your spine.

“Oh,” he hums as his gaze covers your body, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he rummages through them. When he pulls them out, they hold something unfamiliar: small black and orange packets rest in each palm. Closing his hands into fists he shakes them before rejoining his fingers with yours. Heat pricks at your skin where your palms rest against his, your fingers interlaced between the mysterious objects as understanding suddenly clicks.

“Hand-warmers?” you ask, tightening your grip around them as warmth courses through your body.

Choso nods. “I saw them at the store and figured I’d pick some up.” Joy exudes from him as a lopsided grin plays across his face. “And now we can hold hands without me getting you cold.”

He seems almost giddy as you rise from the bench, guiding you to the frozen lake. You’re too lost in the simple happiness of the moment to recall your utter lack of experience with ice skating, until the ground suddenly falls from under you as your skates slide against the ice, landing you flat on your ass.

As the shock settles, both you and Choso erupt into a fit of laughter. The frozen ground is cold under your skirt, forcing you to attempt to stand before slipping and falling forward onto your knees.

“Okay, okay, I got you,” Choso chuckles, extending his arms for you to grab. Pulling yourself up, you manage to stabilize yourself enough to temporarily balance. Wrapping his arms tightly around you, he holds you in place.

“Don’t laugh,” you dramatically pout, “I’ve never done this before!”

“That’s why I’m gonna teach you,” he smiles, pulling you closer into him. “Just trust me, okay? I’ve got you.”

The next few hours are spent with your hands tightly gripped around his arms as he coaxes you across the ice. Eventually you learn how to stand on your own without slipping and can even manage a few glides forward. The sun begins to hang low in the sky as evening settles, casting a warm glow over the small lake.

“Okay, you ready?” Choso prompts, skating backwards slightly and holding his arms out.

You nod, determined, as you lock your gaze ahead. Pushing off on one foot, the blade carves through the ice - your ankle wavers, but just in time you place your other skate down, catching yourself. Another push, and you land in Choso’s waiting embrace through an excited cheer.

“I did it, I did it!” you exclaim through giggles, throwing your arms into the air. He effortlessly lifts you up, twirling you around on the ice.

“I’m so proud of you,” he exhales through a grin, still holding you above him.

Gingerly setting you down, his heart feels full as the setting sun reflects golden hues off your face. Pulling you into him, his lips crash into yours, a familiar hunger behind his motions as lust overtakes him. Before you realize it, the cool brick of one of the surrounding buildings hits your back as his hands roam your body.

“I’m so proud of you, you’re so talented, so strong,” he murmurs praises against your skin as his lips trail down your neck. Searing kisses light his path as he moves, covering every exposed inch of you in his love.

Warmth begins to spread inside you as his fingertips slowly make their way up your thighs, his palms groping at the soft flesh of your ass. He easily hoists you into the air, your legs wrapping around him as he pushes you further up the wall behind you. Struggling to balance yourself, your hands land on his shoulders as he adjusts lower and lower until he’s settled in between your legs, calves dangling in the air as you carefully position the blades away from his back.

Wet kisses tingle up your inner thighs as he draws closer and closer to where you need him, but hesitation overtakes you as you struggle to keep your skates from piercing him. Sensing your apprehension, the hand against your calf pushes you against him as he murmurs into you, “It’s okay, you won’t hurt me.”

Recollection floods your thoughts: oh, right - the inhumane strength, impenetrable flesh. Tentatively, you lower your legs as they rest against his shoulders, allowing yourself to pull him closer.

There’s an awe behind his gaze, a gratitude to whatever gods of fate blessed him with you. Sometimes, he still can’t believe it, that you’re his, that he’s yours. As he slowly makes his way closer to your aching cunt, his eyes land on the wet patch forming against your panties: he still can’t believe you get this wet, all for him. Finally, his head ducks under your skirt, placing gentle kisses against your clothed core.

“Cho, please,” you whine, lowering your hands into his hair to tug him into you.

And that’s all he needs to hear. Hot breath hits your cunt as he exhales contentedly, willingly acquiescing to your shared desires. With one hand he pulls your soaked panties aside, easily supporting you with one arm. You mewl as he licks a slow stripe up your slick folds, the cool air biting against the heat of your skin.

“So perfect,” he breathes into you, “s’soft, s’pretty.” Everything about you seems crafted by the heavens, perfectly melded, all for him. He’s lost in you, in your thoughts, in your body. It intoxicates him as he allows himself to fade into the quiet hum of your soul.

A soft giggle escapes your throat at his lust-drunk praises, the sound transforming into a moan as his lips attach to your clit. Reflexively, your heels dig into his back, serrated skates piercing his clothes. Choso groans at the slight pain lighting a fire beneath his skin.

Two opposing senses, the hot and cold, soft and sharp, overwhelm his body in a blissful haze. As your grip in his dark hair tightens, the stinging air burning his lungs, he finds respite in the oxygen-deprived space between your thighs.

Nothing had ever, and could ever, truly harm him. Blades can’t scratch the surface of his skin, but as they dig through the denim of his jacket, they attack like cold pinpricks of rain. And it feels so, so fucking good - refreshing, almost. A part of his desire claws its way out, begging you to hurt him, begging you to try.

Shared moans fill the air as your back arches off the brick wall behind you, grinding your hips against his tongue as he flicks over your sensitive folds. Gliding his tongue into your aching entrance you gasp, cold air filling your senses against the burning fire of lust within you.

He babbles incoherently into you, muffled proclamations of his love etching into your core. Heat begins to fill your body, your cheeks flushing, chest warming as tension builds in your abdomen.

“C’mon, pretty,” Choso murmurs into you, a quiet plea. “Let go, lemme feel ya.”

Picking up his pace, his tongue relentlessly circles your clit, alternating between needy suction and patient motions of the wet muscle against you. Despite the flurries of snow beginning to fall and swirl around you, all you can feel is hot.

Grabbing into his hair, your skates dig into his shoulders as you come undone. Through whines of pleasure, he greedily laps at every ounce of your essence, his hot breath fanning across your skin. So fucking good.

After a moment, both of his hands return to your hips, adjusting your weight to gently lower you to the ground. Legs shaking beneath you, your arms instinctively reach over his shoulders as he holds you up, a smug grin on his face overcompensating for his blown-out pupils and flushed cheeks. As he leans in to kiss you, the taste of you still lingering on his lips, warm air fills the space between you.

“I’m so proud of you,” he hums into you through a grin.

As the haze of your ecstasy finally begins to clear, you muster your strength to respond. “For the ice skating?”

“Amongst other things,” he smirks, pressing his lips against yours once again.

Admiration swells in his heart as you walk home, fingers intertwined over the heat of his newly-purchased hand warmers. Everyday you surprise him with your dedication, your talent; yet, you remain unendingly humble. He’s never seen you brag, never boasted about your immeasurable smarts, kindness, or strength. So of course, he takes it upon himself to do it for you, singing your praises at every opportunity.

Just as you’ve changed him - allowing him to soften, to find comfort and love in his life - he’s begun to change you. Hearing his compliments, receiving his veneration, you almost start to believe him, believe that maybe there is something special about you. To date, your life has been filled with service to others, prioritizing caring for your family, but maybe you hold your own unique worth, too. Until you truly feel it, understand your place in the world - in his world - Choso will tell you, every single day, until the end of time. If only you could see yourself how he sees you.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

Choso was never bothered by the cold. He felt a certain peace in the stillness of snowfall, allowing his thoughts to wander, as though the world was truly quiet for a moment. Maybe now, in its silence, the universe would have to listen to him, a captive audience to his prayers.

Watching the blanket of white cover the landscape from your apartment balcony, he suddenly feels the heaviness of an avalanche, nearly suffocating. The bright warmth of the sun is buried under it, the flowers of summer long gone, the trees having shed their final leaves, a now barren wasteland. Yet, they don’t seem to mind; instead, they allow the cold air to become a part of them, to change them. It’s not the sun’s fault it couldn’t protect them indefinitely, nor was it a responsibility. But does the sun not wonder if it should have done more to keep life safe?

Warm puffs of steam leave his parted lips as he exhales, a fleeting glimmer of proof that he is here, that he is alive. Yet, as snowflakes land on his open palm, they pause before melting, a hesitation in the forces of nature. Blood courses through his veins, his cells grow and die, but is that enough? Where does the burden of proof lie when deciding what is human?

Where is the boundary between human and humanity?

It’s in devotion.

Dedication.

Servitude.

He is human because he serves, he protects. Since he was born he swore himself to save those who could not save themselves, to shield them from harm.

In the silence of the night, the gusts of wind howling against his ears, he nearly mistakes the sound for screams. Kechizu. Eso. Flames burn under his skin, surrounding him, his lungs closing, filling with smoke.

No.

Tightening his grip on the railing, the cold metal scalds his palms, veins pulsing against his arms.

He failed to save them.

He wasn’t strong enough.

But now, he will do anything, everything, to ensure that it doesn’t happen again. He will never, ever, fail to save those he loves.

“Choso?”

Your voice cuts through the air, it’s softness cradling him. The momentary tensing of his muscles is immediately soothed as he registers your presence, turning to face you. Under the gentle illumination of the moonlight as it reflects off the freshly fallen snow, you look picturesque. Sleep hides behind your eyes, the slight mess of your hair haloed around your face, as your hands grip onto the blanket shrouding your shoulders. Slowly padding across the balcony, a gentle crunch punctuating the steps beneath your slippers, you find your place next to him, resting your head against his body. His arms instinctively wrap around you, pulling you into his warmth.

The pale skin of his bare arms seems to glow softly against the darkness of the night sky. “Aren’t you cold?” you murmur into him, instinctively wrapping the blanket around his torso. As soon as your hands make contact with his cool skin, you hear him lightly chuckle above you.

“I don’t exactly get cold,” he smiles, “but I appreciate the gesture.” Placing a gentle kiss to your head, he allows a silence to fall between you, praying you don’t ask him what he’s doing. He wants to protect you - needs to protect you - and if he tells you the truth, it would only do more damage. He can’t hurt you; you don’t deserve to be held under the weight of his fears.

“Why are you out here so late?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitates for a moment as he formulates an answer, navigating his thoughts to avoid unnecessarily worrying you. “Sometimes I like to come out here and think,” he responds truthfully.

“Think about what?”

Concern laces your tone, interwoven with your love for him. Was he okay? Was something wrong? You’ve caught him out here before, shrouded in the comfort of the night. Sometimes you’d be awoken to the porch door latching, despite Choso’s best efforts to close it softly, or sometimes you’d catch his shadow moving across the curtains lining the window. You never pressed him on it, waiting for him to feel comfortable enough to tell you, but you couldn’t help but worry when he’s been coming out here more and more, seeming more and more detached.

You noticed it the first time when you were out with Yuji and Megumi, the two boys running through nearby snowbanks while you and Choso rested on a covered bench. Choso sat next to you, hands folded in his lap, as he watched them. Yet, when your eyes caught his, something seemed off. He was far away, somewhere deep in the tortuous maze of his thoughts. Gently reaching out your palm, you rested it on his thigh, slowly rubbing circles into his skin. It took a moment, maybe two, before he seemed to register your movements, his attention flickering as he returned to reality with a soft smile.

You wanted to ask, but you knew better than to push him. After the tears he shed, the pain he felt, the last time he talked about his past, you were hesitant to force him to relive it anymore than he already does. Yet, in the back of your mind, you wonder: where do you go, Choso?

A weak sigh escapes his lips, warm breath circling in the freezing air pulling you back to the present. “I think about my family,” he finally murmurs. He pauses, gaze far away as he looks into the darkness ahead. “I think about how I failed them.”

Your chest feels like it’s cracked open, your heart bleeding at his words. Your soul aches for him; you wish you could take his pain away, carry his grief for even just a moment. You’ve heard the words of his history, seen the outlines of his past, but it suddenly hits you that he truly lived it.

A familiar sadness forms between your ribs, the dull ache of regret. Before you can think, you speak. “Sometimes, I look at Megumi and I get this pang, right in my stomach. It feels like I just got punched, like I can’t breathe. For a long time I don’t think I really knew what it was, but now I think I know. It’s guilt.” You don’t know where the words come from, pulled from the depths of your mind, but as you say them, there’s a weight behind them, a truth.

Taking in a steadying breath, you continue. “I feel like I’m not doing enough for him, like all I do is let him down over and over and over again. The worst part is that he doesn’t seem to notice, because he loves me anyways, he’ll love me no matter what.” A dark chuckle bubbles from your lips. “I’m pretty sure I could literally punch him in the face and he’d still be smiling, still hug me afterwards and apologize for making me hurt him.”

Tilting up, your gaze meets Choso’s, his eyes glassy beneath the tears that have begun silently covering them. Your voice threatens to shake as you speak, suddenly overcome with the shared connection, your emotions melding with his. “His love has cursed him. It blinds him to the cruelty in the world, to the people who would hurt him. But then I get stuck thinking ‘who would I be if I wanted him to see that?’ I don’t know, it’s like, I want him to be able to protect himself, but does that mean I failed at doing so in the first place?”

Choso smiles weakly, a tired understanding behind it. “I get that sometimes with Yuji. I know it’s not the same, but I can’t help but feel like he’ll never have a normal life just because of the circumstances he was dealt. It’s not his fault, he didn’t ask for this, to be raised by Sukuna and me. And sure, he seems okay with it now, but what about when he’s older, when he learns his place in the world? If he was given the chance, would he choose the same life again?”

A soft grin graces your lips as you breathe in, cold air burning your lungs. “I can’t say for certain, but it sounds like he has a life with two people who love him, almost too much. If I were him, I’d choose that every single time.”

Finally, the warmth returns to his eyes, his body relaxing into you as his lips meet yours. Your eyelashes flutter closed, stray snowflakes landing on them as you softly kiss him. It’s slow, a patience to his motions as his tongue swipes against yours, hot breath filling the space between you.

When you finally pull away, you’re both glowing under the fading moonlight.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you too,” he smiles, one that finally reaches his eyes.

“But can we go back inside now? I’m freezing,” you giggle as shivers begin to rack your body, the cold reaching its fingers into your bones.

Without another word, he wraps his arms tightly around your torso, picking you up as you mold yourself around him. Resting your head on his shoulder, he carries you inside. Settling under the blankets covering your bed, you finally begin to warm up as Choso intertwines himself with you, his fingertips rubbing small circles into your lower back.

Yuji is so lucky to have him, you think. It feels impossible that Choso would think, for even a moment, that he was letting Yuji down - every moment they spend together you see the pure adoration Choso feels for him, the sense that he would give anything to see his brother happy.

A sudden thought pops into your mind as it begins to cloud with sleep.

“Can I meet him?” you murmur, eyes remaining closed as you speak into the darkness. “Sukuna?”

Choso is grateful you couldn’t see him react, a momentary fear flashing across his face. He hopes his hesitation wasn’t noticeable as he blurts out an answer. “Of course,” he states, silently pleading you don’t hear the way his voice wavers.

In response you simply release a pleased hum, nuzzling your head into his chest. His grip tightens around you, as if it could keep you here with him forever, frozen in this moment.

He knows you’re strong; all he can do now is hope it’s enough.

༝ ˚ ｡⋆ ༝ ˚ ｡⋆

“Come in,” a gruff voice calls from behind the door before Choso swings it open.

The warm smell of cinnamon and spices fills your senses as you step inside, eyes scanning the surroundings. Sukuna’s home is clean, grey and white tiles lining the open kitchen, simple yet sophisticated art hanging around the walls. High-pitched screams echo through the halls as Megumi and Yuji careen towards you. Your brother’s arms wrap around you in a tight hug as the boys babble about the movie they had watched earlier in the day, something about worms? Their chatter blurs into the background as a man steps out from the same hallway, leaning against the off-white walls.

He’s tall, probably around Choso’s height, but something about him, the way he carries himself, feels almost ancient, especially in contrast to the grey t-shirt and black sweatpants currently adorning his body. Striking tattoos line the contours of his face, their path continuing across his arms and presumably down his chest from what you can see beneath the collar of his shirt. Pink hair, an uncanny match to Yuji’s, seems to glow against the warm light of the living room. When his gaze meets yours, a chill runs down your spine as red irises bore into you.

“Hey,” he mutters, his voice rougher than Choso’s, the absence of any softness in it. “I’m Sukuna. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” you wave, clinging to the shreds of your strength that seemed to disintegrate the moment his crimson eyes met yours.

Choso’s arms instinctively wrap around your shoulders, pulling you close to him, his presence steadying. “Did they eat already?” he asks, gesturing to the boys who had run off and currently bounce on the couch cushions, pillows being tossed back and forth over giddy squeals.

“No, I was just about to feed ‘em,” Sukuna trails off, marching into the kitchen. Pulling open the fridge, he tilts his head back, turning his attention to your still-frozen frame in the doorway. “You can eat, too. Hope you like sushi.”

“I-I do,” you stammer, finally taking a full step inside, cheeks flushing in embarrassment at your inability to muster a full sentence. “Thanks.”

Sukuna just hums in acknowledgement, pulling out a tray of delicately hand-crafted rolls from the refrigerator.

As he moves across his home, the silence weighs on you, amplifying your nervousness. “So, um, Sukuna, what do you do?”

Without turning to you, he huffs a curt response. “History professor.” Before you can say anything else, his loud voice crackles through the space. “Food!” he calls into his home, summoning the boys to the dining room table. Placing three plates down, the white ceramic contrasting against the dark wood, he allows you and the boys to feast.

Hesitantly grabbing the nearest roll, you pop a piece into your mouth. “Oh my god,” you mutter through a full bite of food, “this is incredible.”

Sukuna simply grunts before Choso fills in the conversation. “Sukuna is an amazing cook, he’s actually the one who taught me,” he muses.

Your eyes widen slightly in surprise: the idea of the man in front of you, his gruff demeanor, his stoic strength, standing in the kitchen patiently chopping vegetables almost makes you giggle. “I wouldn’t have guessed that,” you manage to get out through a stifled smile before shoving another bite into your mouth.

“What, you don’t think I’m talented enough?” Sukuna asks, his tone serious.

You nearly choke on your food as the implication of your words processes in your mind. “N-no, not that, I just-”

Suddenly his boisterous laugh fills the space, something in it deeply haunting. “Oh, you humans are so fun to tease,” he practically giggles. Choso reaches out to smack his arm, his gaze darting to the two boys sitting across from you, as if to silently say shut up. “It’s fine, the brats aren’t even listening,” Sukuna continues, gasping in air through his nose to quiet his laughter. 

As if on cue, Megumi and Yuji shove the last remaining pieces of sushi into their mouths before pushing their chairs away from the table. “All done!” they proclaim, cheeks puffed out and full of rice before they run back to the living room.

Sukuna quirks an eyebrow at Choso, as if to taunt him. “See?” he smirks.

Choso just rolls his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “Whatever,” he mutters under his breath.

Leaning onto his elbows, Sukuna’s maroon-tinted eyes land on your face, making your blood run cold. A fire seems to rage behind his gaze, an aura of control exuding off his body. As his mouth curls into a smile, sharpened canines poke into his lower lip. “So,” he begins, “how did a little human like you manage to get tangled up with him?”

“Um, well,” you stutter, struggling to form coherent thoughts under the pressure of his watchful eyes, his presence overwhelming you, “he helped Megumi when I had to bring him to the hospital.”

“Oh, I see,” Sukuna muses through a devilish grin. “You fell for the saviour complex then, right, sweetheart?”

“Don’t call her that,” Choso grumbles, shooting daggers at the man across from you.

“Fine, fine, no need for the theatrics, Kamo,” he giggles in response, an unseriousness underlying his very essence. Before he can continue, childlike screams echo through the room as Yuji and Megumi burst in, chasing each other in some complex game of tag. “Will you brats shut up already?” Sukuna growls, grabbing a nearby pillow from the couch before hurling it at the boys.

“Ha, you missed, old man!” Yuji taunts before running out of the room, Megumi following closely behind.

Sukuna rolls his eyes, but you can’t help but notice the genuine smile flash across his features before they darken again, returning his attention to you. “Anyways, I have to ask - what will you do when it comes time to die?”

“Sukuna,” Choso chokes out a stifled yell, agitation brewing under his skin.

“What?” he feigns. “I can’t be the first to ask - after all, I’m sure you understand the implications of our lifestyle, the immortality it entails.”

Heat fills your body as your hands begin to shake, nervousness drowning out your thoughts. “I, um, I hadn’t really thought about it,” is all you can get out before your eyes start to sting. You truthfully hadn’t given it much thought beyond the nagging questions lingering in your mind, ones you worked hard to shove down. You tried to reason them as irrational, yet here you were, being confronted with them head on.

“That’s enough,” Choso growls, the sound of his chair sliding against the wood floor filling the silence as he stands. Reaching out an arm, he takes your hand in his as he pulls you to your feet. “Thanks for dinner, let me know when you need me to watch Yuji again.”

“Aw, leaving so soon?” Sukuna taunts, yet he makes no motion to stop him as Choso drags you to the front door. “It really was nice to meet you, little human!” he calls after you. As the door slams shut behind you, you swear you hear his giggle echoing through the empty halls.

The drive home is…uncomfortable, to say the least. Choso’s hand never leaves yours as he drives in silence, eyes fixed on the road ahead. Rage bubbles inside him, threatening to overflow at any moment. When a car suddenly cuts him off, he lays on the horn, profanities muttered under his breath.

You had never, ever, seen him this angry - annoyed at work, sure, even a little grumpy when you beat him at whatever video game you picked out - but never like this. He was absolutely seething, his entire body practically vibrating with wrath.

“Choso?” you whisper into the silence - you had been sitting outside your apartment for a few minutes, yet he had not made any move to get out of the car, his eyes screwed shut as he rests his head against the steering wheel.

Exhaling a shaky breath, his eyes flutter open; any remaining shreds of resentment seem to fade away as he looks at you, replaced with something closer to despair.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, his shoulders collapsing inwards. “I just…fucking hate him sometimes.” Squeezing his hand, you wait for him to continue. “He’s just so purposely cruel to people, it’s not fair. He shouldn’t have said that shit to you.”

Reaching your free hand over to him, you slowly rub your palm up his back, a small comfort against the raging storm inside him.

“I’m sorry for bringing you there. I know how he gets, and I shouldn’t have let you anywhere near him.”

Your motions falter for a moment as you trail your hand over to his jaw, forcing him to face you. “I asked to meet him, remember? If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

Sadness flashes across his features at your words. “No, no, it’s not your fault at all.” He sighs, struggling to hold your gaze.

“Choso?” Somber eyes meet yours as you take in an uneven breath, the questions from earlier in the night swirling through your thoughts. “What is going to happen when I die?”

His stomach drops, eyebrows knitting together as dread overtakes him. “I don’t know.”

Body trembling, you find the strength to verbalize the words you’ve been mulling over for months, their shape engraved in the back of your mind. “Would you…would you ever turn me? Make me a vampire, like you?”

He inhales sharply. “No.”

Pain ripples through your chest, an open wound from his verbal knife. Mouth curling downward, your eyes begin to sting. “Oh.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles, “I just…I can’t.”

“Cho, I know you want to protect me, but-”

“No.” The intensity of his voice takes you aback at first, the finality of it. There’s a silent detestation behind it, an unspoken resentment. Resting in his lap, his palms ball into fists.

“But…why?”

Before the question can land, he’s already speaking. “I have a grave.”

The wind is sucked out of the car, suddenly too quiet, too tense, a vacuum of your thoughts. “What?”

“I don’t visit it, I barely did even before we moved here. But I have a grave, a tombstone, the whole deal.” Silence once again falls, this time painfully so. Any bite left in his words is now gone, replaced with something akin to agony. “They didn’t find my body after the fire, obviously, so they buried an empty casket next to my family.”

“Oh.” It’s the only sound you can get out, barely a word, more of a sigh.

“I just…I always know it’s there, an empty tomb of the life I used to have. I can’t dig it up, I sure as hell can’t go back to it, I can’t reclaim it. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”

Your voice is stolen from you, shaking your head as his glassy eyes meet yours.

“It’s like the universe’s cruel joke, like it’s waiting for me to die, begging me to rot in that hole, but I can’t. I physically can’t.”

A wave of sorrow hits you, knocking the wind from your lungs. To you, immortality always felt like a blessing, a way to ensure your survival long enough to protect the safety of those you love. It was never feared, always sought after, but now his suffering digs at your soul, tearing cracks through your ideals. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “You deserve to rest.”

Finally breaking his gaze from yours, it turns to his hands, consciously unclenching his fists. Silently, he vows to protect you, but never to change you. When he finally inhales to speak, his voice comes out low, taught against the strings of his pain. He wants - no, he needs - you to understand: you can never be like this, like him; death would be a more merciful end. Lifting his eyes, they meet yours as crystal-clear tears pool along his lash line. “Eternity isn’t always a gift.”

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