#and then that became the only thing associated with that song

[holymolyyikes]

II(.0) / VI.

Our meal finished, we absentmindedly relaxed in the evening glow as people trickled into the garden. They gave us space, which I didn’t mind. Frankly, it was typical. That was how we became friends, a fact which resurfaced as we chatted. She was an Absurdist (nerd, as I said), and I just didn’t really care. I didn’t need the lecture (on either), so we just chatted about whatever. Now that the chatting had melted into occasional remarks as we both gazed through our phones, it was the perfect time to investigate that coin thing.

Checking the photo again, I reverse image searched online, looking for, if not a match, at least an association. Oddly, not only did I find no match, there wasn’t a single image returned – normally, there are at least some nominally similar matches, for like the angle and general colour scheme. But there was nothing.

‘Did you see the new song?’ Ellie mumbled.

‘Mm.’ I replied.

Discarding that option, I thought for a moment, then entered [your preferred search engine of choice] and looked it up for clues. My phone blinked for a second – or maybe it was just the light – and returned nothing. What the hell? This was too weird.

There was a pause. ‘What the fuck have you done?’ Ellie shouted. I turned to her. She was facing me, phone completely ignored, standing over me but looking directly into my eyes. She was almost shaking.

‘What do you – ‘

‘What did you just do?’

‘I just – looked up that tall coin thing on – ’

‘You what? Fuck, fuck, fuck...’

‘What are you even going on about?’

‘I told you not to worry about it!’ She was screaming now, but trying to keep it quiet – as if she was trying to attract attention. It only served to make her look more scared, which ironically might have been why more and more people were staring over at us.

‘I didn’t! I just wanted to – ‘

‘I’m sorry.’

She jumped at me from over the table, clearly trying to tackle me. I only barely dodged, a glancing arm sending me sprawled across the grass. Immediately I got up and sprinted, heading back the way we came, and I realised with a quick glance that the people around us hadn’t been staring at us, but me. My friend was sprinting after me now, and then I turned forward. The hedge. There was no bench on this side, and the hedge was up to my hips. I tried to jump it anyway, obviously failing. The important thing was I kept momentum. We were being filmed now by the bystanders, and I could tell Ellie was gaining. Of course she was – she was almost double my height and ran for fun (embracing nature or some shit). She was shouting something too. Whatever. I had to make it to the main road.

what if people over a certain height had a special currency called tall coins that short people didn’t know about. And one day you’re walking with your friend (huge) and she drops something and you pick it up and say what is this and she says oh that’s my tall coin don’t worry about it. But you did worry

[fushiglow]

I feel like I live in here geeking about music, and I want to nervously apologise but I won't this time.

Thanks to living in the furture I've heard the new Sleep Token album, and I'm having OTT thoughts with the song 'Past Self'. I was curious about your thoughts on it.

And honestly you have this love of music that I see in OTT and I can't help but want to ask you about it.

Anyway, I hope you feel less burned out soon Glo <3

Sending this when you knew I physically couldn't listen for many more hours was cruel. Jokes on you, I'm into that 🫵

Having given the album a full listen a number of times now, I think we may as well go on the whole Even In Arcadia journey in relation to Over the Threshold, and I'll share some more general thoughts about the album after that in case you're interested.

I hope you enjoy this, because I truly am the strongest yapper!

Sugar

First, a recap. For anyone who doesn't know, the Sleep Token associations with Over the Threshold were a happy accident. Shortly after I published chapter 6 in January 2024, someone left a comment saying that Satoru's song in the fic, Sugar, reminded them of Sleep Token's Sugar. I had never even heard of Sleep Token at the time, and when I listened, my first thought was, "Yeah, Satoru's music definitely sounds nothing like this."

However, the lyrics certainly spoke not only to Satoru's cheeky song, but to the fic in general. Games (little and big) are a recurrent theme in Over the Threshold, so it's not just "Sugar, I've developed a taste for you", but also "You must be crazy if you think that I will give up the game".

It was mentioned by readers quite a few more times over the months that followed, but I didn't think about it much more until I decided to develop Satoru's Sugar further in chapter 11. When I first introduced the song to the fic, I wasn't intending it to play such a big role in the story. It was simply supposed to be the "fun" second single sandwiched between the two more meaningful songs. However, Sugar took on a life of its own, at least in part due to the reader response to the song.

That's the most special thing about this fic. For a story that is so much about the dialogue between artist and audience, but also about the suffocation of creativity and the suppression of authentic artistic expression in a consumer driven music industry, being able to respond to reader reactions within the story itself is such a gift.

From the theorising about the photos in the parking garage to "sugar ooh" becoming a commonplace substitute for Suguru among Over the Threshold readers, as though people actually heard that catchy hook, you guys have more control of this story than you perhaps realise — and that is so deliciously meta. It's what Suguru describes in chapter 5:

An artist’s relationship with the public was a precarious, fickle thing, [...] their power [only] proportional to the people’s belief in them.

I feel exactly like Satoru and his team, identifying the fan favourite that emerges and giving it prized place in the encore to close out the show. The readers brought Sugar into focus in this story, which brings us back to Sleep Token, because the readers brought that Sugar into focus, too. It became the "theme song" for Dolce, because it grew into the fabric of Satoru's character for me via the readers.

Neither Dolce nor A Cappella would even exist if I didn't have such a wonderful readerbase willing to engage with me at this level, and I'm truly thankful for that. This story has grown beyond anything I originally set out to do, and it's all the more meaningful for it.

Caramel

Perhaps it's surprising to hear that I see Sugar as a song performed from Satoru's POV, along with its spiritual successor, Caramel, which became the "theme song" for Dolce's spiritual successor, A Cappella, in turn.

For anyone who's interested in getting a peek into Satoru's head in this fic, Caramel is your song. It really sums up the core conflict that this story explores, as well as Satoru and Suguru's opposing ideologies pushing up against one another. Suguru has a strong presence in the song. He's the "They can sing the words while I cry into the bassline" to Satoru's "I just wanna hear you sing that top line". He's the "mirror side-stage" that grounds Satoru, but also reflects back at him all the horrors of his role that he's never really confronted before.

In the end, Caramel sums up his quiet acceptance of the chaos of his chosen lifestyle, but only after exploring all the emotion that simmers beneath that perfect smile as he's pulled in different directions by his love of the performance, by the secret strain of the spotlight, by his love for Suguru, and by his fear of everything that threatens to reduce sweet sugar to burnt caramel at the bottom of the pan. There is such desperation in "Stick to me like caramel." I can't not hear it as chapter 13's "Can you hold on just a little bit longer?" while Satoru attempts to handle everything on his own. He wants to have his cake and eat it. Can he?

Of course, Sugar is less explicitly related to the themes of the wider story, but the release of Caramel has retroactively given the song a weight that supports this specific story in such beautiful ways. I never could have foreseen these serendipitous circumstances (I actually could, I'm Glod) but Sleep Token keep delivering for me.

There was Sugar, then Caramel, then Damocles which we've already discussed. Now, the release of Even In Arcadia brings three more songs that slot into this story, leaving us with five songs written specifically for fushiglow. Incredible scenes.

Past Self

The first, as you say, is Past Self. We've got games again, and the idea of dancing on the line which has come up a few times throughout the fic, but lyrically, this song is wildly fitting to Over the Threshold at a much deeper level. It's almost getting creepy at this point. First of all:

And you know I deliberate on cutting out the demons I still need a dark side, they just need a reason The passage of the hours into rushing through the seasons Falling through my mind with the leaves on the trees

Anyone else having chapter 12/13 war flashbacks? Changing seasons and falling leaves? Alright then!

Other stand out lines include "bolts out of my blue depths" (sobs), "did I get this far for nothing, or are you the reward?" (sobs harder), and "torn apart by the true believers that turned out to be faithless". Good lord, the themes are really theming.

However, the bridge section is such a departure from the rest of the song that I think puts Sleep Token's musical choices here into context:

And if this is love, then I am out of hesitation Head over heels at elevation Walking an inch above the pavement Taking it stride by stride together If this is real, then I am all up in a frenzy Not like before when I was empty Say that the story we tell is never-ending Taking it side by side together

It reminds me of the momentous turning point of chapter 8:

The gravity of it was startling. Yet Suguru felt buoyed by it, weightless on the current of Satoru’s faith in him — because no one had ever really believed in Suguru like that before. The feeling of it coursing around his bloodstream was potent and exciting, the way all drugs felt on the first try. It made his grin feel a little manic.

The whole song feels like taking a leap of faith, but in the context of the album, the unexpected sonic shift to upbeat hip hop rhythms and instrumentation is unsettling for the listener. The song bounces along in a way that feels like it might teeter off the edge at any time.

It even feels pretty unstable harmonically, like it's missing its centre. During the aforementioned bridge, it feels like we come close to reaching some kind of satisfying harmonic resolution for the final chorus, but ultimately the outcome of this leap of faith is withheld from the listener. It's smart writing. I really appreciate the intention behind this one!

Dangerous

Next up is Dangerous. Listening to the first 1:30 of this song felt like taking a bath in milk and honey — delectable but dangerous. More like scaphism than a spa treatment. I'm being silly.

But seriously, the gorgeous vocals cushioned by the reverberant pluck of guitar strings in the opening to the song are one of my favourite parts of the album overall. Nothing smart to say about this one though. It's just very reminiscent of Suguru trying to resist the dangerous addiction that is Satoru.

Infinite Baths

Even if I'm not head over heels in love with this song in its own right, as an Over the Threshold song, it is incredibly special. Enough to make me cry. In fact, in the context of the fic, it might be my favourite of all of them. [EDIT: No, I take it back. It's Damocles. Or Caramel. I don't know.]

But I'm not going to talk about it. Maybe we'll come back to it one day. For now, interpret this as you wish. Is it the balmy peace of the first half of the song or the violent supernova of the second that speaks to me? Hm.

I think the fact that I've chosen to focus on spiritual and celestial imagery with idols and stars in Over the Threshold — the idea of worshipping a concept that's bigger than reality — is a huge part of the reason Sleep Token's recent music resonates with the story.

I'm not familiar with the lore, but my hunch is that when they conceived of Sleep and Vessel and tokens of worship, they weren't thinking about celebrity, but those recurring themes have inadvertently played right into their experience of fame and thus make an appearance in a big way on Even In Arcadia.

Hooray for fushiglow and Over the Threshold, boo for the Sleep Token guys and the difficulties they've been facing. Fame sucks.

General review

As I've alluded to, most of my enjoyment of this album definitely stems from my own selfish application of its themes to Over the Threshold. However, in case you're interested, I'll also share some more general thoughts, because I personally think it's fascinating that looking at this album through the lens of my story vs in its own right changes my perception of it rather a lot.

I like music that's deliberate in its choices, regardless of genre. I like music that tells a story in its composition and arrangement and production, not only in its lyrical content. If all of those things marry together and support one another, that's great songwriting. For me, Even In Arcadia meets that criteria around half the time.

My biggest criticism of the record is that it feels hesitant in places, like the band lacks commitment to their ideas. There's so much experimentation with genre on this album and the experimental moments are what made me sit up and pay attention — the bold use of a reggaeton beat on Caramel; the unexpected sidestep into math rock on Gethsemane; just the whole journey through genre that is Emergence — but it feels like Sleep Token are held back by a reluctance to depart from their roots.

The gentle build to a breakdown where the drums and guitars come screaming in sometimes feels formulaic, like they're going through the motions expected of them as a 'rock band'. On a couple of occasions, the pivot to a heavier sound mid-track felt to me (to use an Over the Threshold-ism) like it limited the song from reaching the heights it was aiming for.

I think that's a shame, but also understandable, especially since this is their first release on a major label which comes with ALL sorts of politics. I even think that fear of the audience moving on is expressed in the lyrical content, especially in Damocles which, interestingly enough, shows a restraint on that front which is exactly the kind of musical storytelling I described earlier.

Some tracks feel out of place, like they don't quite belong to the concept. For me, the singles are definitely the high points of the album, alongside Look to Windward and Even In Arcadia. Even In Arcadia is a rich and immersive soundscape that delivers all the spiritualism of the lyrics with a vocal performance to back it up. That hoarse screamed last line that feels like it's reaching outside of the song followed by the soft "for me" evokes something larger than life; I think this song will be amazing live.

Meanwhile, Look to Windward is such a strong opener. It sets the tone really well, even if I don't think the tracks that follow always deliver on its promises. I love the Hans Zimmer-esque chords; it's very reminiscent of Holy War from Dune. Really strong melodic and lyrical content over the top of them, too, and I love the development into the plucked strings and vocalisations. This song is constantly growing and developing, exploring new ideas before returning to the original subject. It's a very complete and satisfying listening experience, which (I think) describes to the listener the journey the album will (attempt to) take them on.

I feel like Infinite Baths didn't quite deliver on that return to the original subject. The circular nature of the album (it closes with the same chord and rhythm combination it opens with) is undermined by the way it kind of fizzles out at the end. We land back where we started, but it feels like an accident rather than a deliberate choice. I wonder why they chose a fade out. Is this what they meant by "drift with me" (such a drastic departure from the rest of the song and easily my favourite part)?

So, most of the tracks on Even In Arcadia probably aren't going to find their way into my regular listening, but I enjoyed it overall. I do love a good concept album, and I admire Sleep Token's dedication to their artistry and the elaborate performance of it all. I also think that the more ambitious an artist is, the more critical we tend to be of them, and that doesn't feel fair.

Still, the higher you climb, the harder you fall. It seems fitting to the themes of this album, so maybe it achieved its aims.

Good god, I hope this was enjoyable to someone. Congratulations if you got to the bottom of this post! If you did, let's make a secret club. Only people who leave a reply containing 🌭 are part of it. Welcome to the hot dog club. (?!)

Thanks for another opportunity to yap, it means a lot. I love talking about music and I love talking about this story ♥

[neverthebabysitter]

Adding to this post, imagine them being famous in the future.

Eddie becoming a rising star as soon as he gets out of Hawkins, his band corroded coffin entering the music scene and having massively popular songs. People are getting more intrigue for his past murder charges, but he gets easily defended once he gets a solid fan base (and the fact that he was absolved of those charges).

And Steve entering the acting scene at the same time, him and Robin being just some extras in a movie for the extra cash, but the director falls in love with the sibling-like duo, making them a cameo where Steve acts like a buffer, making the male character jealous so he can make a move.

It was a simple role, just a few minutes of screen with one-liners of dialogue, but to the surprise of everybody—except for Robin—Steve killed the role. Maybe it was his eyes that enamored everyone, his kicked puppy look or his smile, but he became the nation's sweetheart. 

After that, he got cast for more minor roles, and little by little established himself as an actor, to the point of being the lead more frequently. 

With that, the two of them are well established in their own fields, working hard and being well-known. So it's not rare that at some point they end up in the same event.

It could be anything, a festival, some awards, just a party of famous people—the point is, they are in a public space, surrounded by people that have no idea they know each other, and like an instinct, they act like swore enemies.

Their minds are so used to associate:

"being in public" + "hide true relationship and have fun" = "fake hate each other"

Becuase years of pulling that stunt in their teenagehood that like reflex they spit second-hand insults. 

Like– they lock eyes on each other and instantly looked up and down in the bitchiest way possible. Honestly, at this point it has become their own weird way of flirting, the more vicious the comment the more they will drive the other crazy.

Of course, neither of them realize what they were doing until they both were making out in the bathroom, squirreling away from the vent, going to the closest hotel and waking up the next day with friends/acquaintances from their own jobs field asking for the latest gossip of the industry.

The way Robin would laugh her ass off, only to act like a toddler, pointing fingers and giggling at the two dinguses when they realize what they have done.

It was not intentional, and now everyone who was in the event thinks they hate each other's guts like old times.

The public doesn’t know yet, the reporters still not hearing about this until well-respected journalist, Nancy Wheeler (who has already written about each of them, one for Eddie and one for Steve), makes an article about their long complicated story.

(No, she isn't being petty, Mike, she just thinks it’s funny, and it’s not like she is lying, they do have a long and complicated story, it’s just a little to the left, she just isn't saying some things)

The next time someone interviews one of them, they are asking about the other, why they hate each other, if there’s some drama, why they didn't know they knew the other, etc.

Long story short, they pulled the same bit they did in school, but now by accident and to the whole country (and the world when they start getting more international).

They tried to clarify but fell on deaf ears, people thinking is just to safe face or keep appearances, after all the habit doesn’t quite go and they always ended up flirting with insults in every event they are together.

They definitely start to enjoying it and play along after a while.

Not only that, but they enjoyed it even more when years later, in a random day, they posted their X years wedding anniversary photos with their family.

Everyone lost their shit after that.

[storiesforallfandoms]

jason doesn’t know ~ eddie munson;stranger things

word count: 3184

request?: no

description: jason doesn’t know that his girlfriend and eddie do it in his van every sunday

pairing: eddie munson x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (oral f receiving, orgasm denial, unprotected p in v), pet names (princess and sweetheart), cheating

based on this song

masterlist (one, two, three)

Dating the captain of the basketball team was great at first. Jason was a great boyfriend in the beginning. He would give you rides to and from school, he’d take you out every weekend, and in general he just seemed very sweet. Besides that, dating him also made you popular by association. You weren’t an outcast or anything before, but you weren’t popular either. So dating Jason definitely elevated your social status.

But, as time went on, things became less and less great. Your date weekends with Jason became less frequent until they stopped all together. The excuse was always that he was busy with basketball practice, but once practice ended he was still blowing you off. He’d still drive you to and from school, and you still ate lunch with him and the team, but you didn’t feel like his girlfriend anymore. You felt like an accessory.

You tried to talk to Jason, but he blew you off. He said a lot of stuff that you could barely remember, but you did remember running away from him in tears. You thought (or maybe hoped) that he would come after you and try to make everything right. But when you got outside the school without the sound of footsteps running behind you or Jason’s voice calling your name, you figured he wasn’t that concerned about the fact that he had hurt your feelings.

That’s when you met Eddie for the first time. Well, when you properly met Eddie. You had seen the metal head in school before, especially interacting with Jason. You had never spoken to Eddie, and you had no issue with him like Jason did. Not that you’d ever tell Jason or his friends that.

You were sat on the stairs crying into your hands when you heard him ask, “Are you okay?”

You jumped, unaware that anyone else was around. You turned to see Eddie leaning against the brick wall of the school. You noticed what he had in his hand. “You’ll get in trouble for having weed on school grounds.”

“Are you going to rat on me, princess?”

The name took you back. He said it sarcastically, but there was something about him calling you that that turned you on a little.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Eddie asked, coming closer to lean against the railing that separated you both.

“Fuck if I know,” you said. You waved towards the door behind you. “He might be in there, or he might’ve left. Don’t know, and right now I don’t care. I’m sure he doesn’t care where I am either.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Trouble in paradise?”

You scoffed. “Some fucking paradise.”

He didn’t push the matter. Not like you were expecting him to. You didn’t even know each other. You also weren’t expecting him to ask, “Did you need a ride home? Since your douchebag boyfriend ditched you and all.”

You weren’t about to turn down that offer. You kind of couldn’t turn it down really. Your only other option would be to walk home, and you weren’t going to do that if you had someone offering you to give you a ride. So, you followed Eddie to his van. At some point you found yourself opening up to Eddie about your issues with Jason. He didn’t poke or prod for an explanation, but your emotions were bottled up for so long that you just needed to get them out. And Eddie just listened. He didn’t let his personal bias towards Jason get in the way.

And then you were kissing Eddie. You weren’t sure if it was because he was actually paying attention to you, or because you were so frustrated that you just needed to do something. Or maybe it was both of those things, plus the fact that Eddie was extremely attractive. Either way, you were kissing him.

And then you were in the back of his van, underneath him.

You were going to break up with Jason. You were still mad at him anyways, but you knew you had to break up with him after cheating on him. You didn’t expect anything else to happen with Eddie (although you wouldn’t be mad if anything did happen), but you knew it wouldn’t be right to continue your relationship after cheating.

That was the plan anyways. Until Jason showed up at your house the next day with flowers as an apology. He drove you to school, he showered you with all the love and affection that you had been missing the last month. You were so taken with everything Jason was doing that you were foolish enough to think things were actually changing. You had completely forgotten about your time with Eddie, until he came sauntering up to your locker between classes.

Your eyes widened as you looked around to make sure that Jason or his friends weren’t around. “Go away. I can’t be seen with you.”

“So I heard,” Eddie said. “You’re all lovey dovey with your prince charming again. Does he knew you were screaming my name yesterday?”

Your thighs clenched together at the memories from the day before. You shook your head and backed away from Eddie. “It was a mistake. I was angry, and it was unfair of me to use you to blow off steam. I’m sorry, but we can’t do it again Eddie.”

Eddie gave you a look, and then, to your surprise, he chuckled. “I’ll see you next time, sweetheart.”

As he was walking away, someone threw an arm over your shoulder. You jumped and looked up at Jason, who was scowling at Eddie’s back. “What did the freak want?”

“Nothing,” you lied. “Just asked about one of our classes.”

Eddie was right, though. There was a next time.

It didn’t take long for Jason’s affection to wither away again. And, once again, when you tried to talk to him about it, he brushed you off. You hoped that things would go as they had last time, with Jason apologizing and realizing his wrongs. But the next day, you were left waiting on your front steps for Jason to arrive. By the time you realized he wasn’t coming and you’d have to walk, you were already quite late for class. You were nearly in tears from embarrassment when a familiar van pulled up beside you.

“Get in, sweetheart.”

You didn’t make it to class that day. Instead, Eddie parked his van and you fucked until you knew no other feeling than his cock nestled inside of you.

There was no explanation for why you didn’t break up with Jason. You didn’t love him anymore, and he certainly had no feelings for you. At some point, you figured it was just for show. You’d hold hands in the hallway, you’d cheer for him at his games, you kissed in the lunchroom. But there was no love between the two of you. Instead, your heart belonged to the curly haired metal head that took you far away in his van and made you feel so good with every touch.

One Sunday afternoon, you were home alone when you heard a horn honk outside. You peered through the living room blinds to see the brown and cream van that had become your favorite place to be. Eddie was stood outside, leaning up against it with a cigarette hanging from his lips. You smiled and quickly rushed out the door.

“I’m home alone today,” you told him. “You can come in instead if you’d prefer.”

“I like going in my van,” he said. “It’s like our own little paradise.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

Eddie drove you both to your usual spot; a dirt path surrounded by trees tat no one besides stoners ever went down. The second the engine shut off, your face was in Eddie’s hands and he was kissing you so passionately that you became lightheaded. You undid your seatbelt and moved to straddle him without breaking the kiss. His hands moved to your waist, holding you. You ran your hands through his hair, gently tugging it like you knew would drive him crazy.

“Let’s get in the back,” he suggested.

You didn’t have to be asked twice. You quickly got off his lap and moved to the back of the van while Eddie was still unbuckling his seatbelt. You were already taking your shirt off when Eddie finally joined you. You were about to take your bra off, but Eddie grabbed your hands to stop you. “You know that’s my favorite part.”

He guided you to lay down on the pillows and blankets he had added to the van shortly after you two had started hooking up. He gave you a quick kiss on the lips before moving to attack your neck with kisses. He was careful not to leave marks that would be visible, but the moment he reached your breasts, he bit and sucked as he pleased. He reached under you to pop your bra clasp open. He pulled it off and tossed it into the front, then took your nipple in his mouth while he kneaded your other breast in his hand. You moaned at the feeling of his tongue running over the sensitive nub.

After leaving your chest marked, he continued to move down your body. As he kissed over your stomach, he pulled at the waistband of your pants. You lifted up so he could pull them and your panties off in one go. He started kissing you painfully slowly over your mound, then over both of your inner thighs. You were trembling with anticipation, and a whimper involuntarily slipped from your lips.

Eddie chuckled. “Is there an issue, sweetheart?”

“P-Please, Eddie,” you whimpered. “I-I need to feel you.”

“Well, how do I say no when you ask so nicely?”

You gasped as he licked a long stripe up your clit. Your fingers gripped his hair as he began to eat you out like he was a starving man and you were his first meal in days. His fingers dug into your thigs, leaving creasant shaped marks in the soft skin. You threw your head back and moaned in pleasure. Eddie knew how to make you feel so good in ways that no other guy had ever made you feel. Actually, he was the first guy to go down on you in general. You didn’t know how good it would feel until his mouth was on you the first time.

Your mind went completely blank. All you knew was the feeling of hot pleasure coursing through out body. Your head was thrown back on the pillow beneath you as you moan into the small space. It was one of many reasons you loved Eddie’s van: you didn’t have to worry about being quiet. You could tell him just how good he was making you feel in whatever volume you wanted. And right now, he was making you feel so good that you felt like you were going to float right to cloud nine at any second.

You could feel yourself nearing the edge when Eddie suddenly pulled away from you. You let out a noise that could only be classified as a whine as you looked up at him. He was grinning down at you with that stupid teasing grin that you loved so much.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he said. “I want to feel you on my cock when you cum.”

He leaned down to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he slipped it into your mouth. He was pressing himself against you, his still clothed hard on rubbing against your sensitive core.

“This seems unfair,” you told him, tugging at his shirt. “I’m all naked and you’re still fully clothed.”

“When have I ever been fair?” he asked. But he pulled away from you to pull his shirt off. You admired his tattoos as he started with the belt on his jeans. He noticed you looking and smirked. “Like what you see?”

“You say that every time,” you teased. “And the answer is always yes. I love your tattoos.”

He smiled and leaned down to kiss you again. He had managed to get out of his jeans without you noticing, and now you were both completely naked, flush against one another. You could feel his hard cock pressing against your thighs. You reached between the two of you and wrapped your hand around the base. Eddie moaned as you pumped his cock a few times. You were already so wet from him going down on you that when you pressed the tip against your entrance, he was able to push into you without problem. You both moaned as he slowly pushed into you, filling you completely.

“You feel so good,” he whispered against your lips. “Fuck, I could stay like this forever.”

“Please Eddie, m-move,” you begged.

“Ask me once more with those pretty words, sweetheart.”

“Please! Please, I need you so bad.” You’d be embarrassed with how desperate you sounded if you weren’t already on the edge of an orgasm again just from the feeling of him inside of you.

He kissed the tip of your nose and did as you asked. It was slow at first, pulling all the way out at a painfully slow pace until just the tip was inside of you, and then thrusting inwards just as slow until he was buried inside of you again. his pelvic bone brushed against your clit in a way that was driving you crazy. Eddie lowered his head to your neck and began to kiss every inch of skin that he could reach again. The warm pleasurable feeling returned, running through your entire body from your head to the tips of your toes. Your nails were digging into his back, but you knew he was going to wear those scratch marks with pride. The last time you had marked him, he went to school in a tank top the next day just so everyone could see.

A string of expletives fell from your mouth as you felt yourself nearing the edge. Eddie was whispering words of praise and encouragement in your ear, and it was enough to finally tip you over. You cried out his name as you tensed around him. He groaned into the crook of your neck at how good you felt. Your head was so foggy with lust that you almost didn’t register when his thrusts started to pick up speed, and then when they became a little sloppier.

“Can I cum inside?” he asked.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Please, Eddie, please cum in me.”

He pressed a kiss hard against your lips as his hips stilled, spilling himself inside of you. Your chest heaved with every labored breath you took. Your bodies were stuck together with sweat that you hadn’t even noticed was collecting on you till that moment. When Eddie pulled away from the kiss, his lips were swollen. His hair was a mess, and he was also quite sweaty, but he still looked like the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

When he smiled, it made your heart flutter.

You almost wanted to mirror the words he said earlier about staying that way forever, but Eddie eventually pulled himself from you as he started to go soft. He reached into the front of the van where he kept towels for your rendezvouses. He placed one under your hips as you felt his load starting to slip out of you. Once he had himself wiped down, he reached into the front again to roll down both windows. Immediately, the feeling of cool fresh air filled the van.

Eddie laid down next to you so that your shoulders were touching. This was always the weird part. You never cuddled after having sex, but you really wanted to. But that wasn’t what you two were doing, right? This was just hooking up. He wasn’t your boyfriend. But you wished he was.

Eddie nudged you with his elbow and you looked over at him. “What are you thinking so hard about?”

“Nothing,” you said.

He gave you a look. “It’s not nothing. You get this look on your face when you’re deep in thought. What’s up?”

You were touched that he had noticed something so simple. In all the time you had been dating Jason, he had yet to pick up on any of your cues.

“What would you do if I broke up with Jason?” you asked.

Eddie shrugged. “That depends. What would you want me to do?”

“No, that’s not fair. I want to know what you would want. I’m already sneaking around with you behind my boyfriend’s back, it’s not fair if we’re doing all of this my way.”

He smiled. “Well, for the record, I’m not mad that we sneak around behind Jason’s back. It’s actually kind of nice to just have these moments to ourselves.”

He ran the knuckle of his index finger over your arm, causing you to shiver at the feeling.

“But, if you did break up with Jason, I would be first in line to ask you out on a real date.”

“There would be no line,” you told him. “Because you’d be the one I’d pick anyways.”

Eddie’s smile was the brightest thing you had ever seen. And it was contagious, because you couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“I feel stupid that I haven’t done it already,” you told him. “I don’t know, I think it’s just the image of being the captain’s girlfriend that stops me, but even that isn’t fun anymore. What’s the point of holding an image if you’re not happy?”

“There is no point. But, I wouldn’t push you to break up with him if you don’t want to. I get it if you’re not ready to plunge into loser territory by dating me.”

You rolled onto your stomach to look at him. “That’s not it at all. I don’t care what your social standing is. I just care about you. I want to be with you.”

“You just have to figure out how to not be with Jason anymore.”

You scoffed. “Yeah, I thought it was going to be that hard, but now I’m thinking I’d be doing him a favor if we broke up. He’s quite literally had his eyes on Chrissy Cunningham for weeks now. I don’t know what his problem is that he won’t end the relationship first and just get with her.”

“I can’t blame him there. Chrissy is hot.”

You swatted his arm. “Fuck you!”

“You already did, princess.”

He took you by surprise as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you down to him. When he kissed you this time, it wasn’t just a kiss of lustful passion. It was gentle and sweet, and then he settled you against his chest with his arm around your shoulder.

And that’s when you knew that things with Jason would be over the next time you saw him. Because you could get used to being happy with Eddie.

[aikastales]

i’m drunk, i love you (jk)

𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: with only a day before graduation, you make a promise that you will not only graduate from university, but also from your feelings for your best friend of seven years, jeon jungkook.

𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: film student!jungkook x med tech student!fem!oc (named sola)

𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾𝗌: heavy angst, unrequited love, jungkook as an isko agenda, set in the ph 🇵🇭

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: this story is fiction. it does not represent the members of bangtan or any of the idols here in real life. all resemblance to real life characters, institutions, associations, places, events, among others are either purely coincidence or depicted in a fictitious manner only. there’s really no warnings for this story other than it’s a self-indulgent fic to get me back to writing. the smut isn’t that severe. just kissing, nipple sucking, and grinding. this is based on the film, i’m drunk i love you, which i highly recommend you watch. i didn’t alter much of the plot & scenes bc i think they’re already great as it is, but i did tweak a bit here and there. i hope you enjoy! let me know what you think by reblogging/commenting. ♡

𝗍𝗈𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 5,784

You were never quite the believer in love at first sight, but what you felt that night was the closest thing to that feeling. 

He was one of the freshmen performers during your orientation, singing Adam Levine’s Lost Stars. Like the entire audience, you were captivated by his heavenly vocals and charisma as he performed on stage with an acoustic guitar one of the seniors lent him. Not only that, Jeon Jungkook wasn’t bad looking either—quite the opposite, really. 

However, after the orientation, you didn’t get to see much of the dark-haired handsome boy. You were studying at UP, the biggest state university in the country, and so your paths were bound not to cross. Until, your older cousin, who was a senior at that time, invited you to eat dinner with him and a couple of his buddies after seeing you strolling around campus alone. When you arrived at the eatery, you not only saw your cousin Yoongi’s friends—Yijeong and Woosung—you also spotted the boy who hadn’t left your mind since you saw him over four months ago at that time. 

You sat across from him and you tried your best not to freak out as Yoongi introduced the both of you. Apparently, he had already known Jungkook because he was the younger stepbrother of his other friend, Namjoon. During the course of your dinner, you and Jungkook didn’t really talk much. But you would muster up the courage to ask him some basic questions such as his program, why he went to UP, if he joined any orgs yet, etcetera. Jungkook was polite enough to answer your inquiries. 

He was a Film major. He went to UP because everyone in his family went to UP so it was the most obvious choice for him and he was a member of the Film society. In return, Jungkook asked the same set of questions. You were a pre-med student, Medical Technology, to be exact, and you went to UP because it was your dream school. You were also a member of the College of Arts and Sciences’ student council. 

After your meal was finished, Yoongi entrusted your care to Jungkook as they were going to meet up with some of their friends and you were both living at campus dormitories anyway. So, you hopped into his old army green Toyota Rav4 and needless to say, the ride back to UP was awkward. So, to get rid of the awkward silence, you asked if you could play some music. He said sure and handed you the aux cord already connected to his stereo. Once you had the other end connected to your phone, you played one of your favorite songs—Waltz of Four Left Feet by Shirebound and Busking. 

To your surprise, Jungkook also knew the song and just like that, the awkward silence was gone and you became inseparable ever since. 

Music became the bridge that connected you and Jungkook. Whenever you would hangout, it was always your topic—your favorite artists, songs, original scores in films, best albums, underrated artists, overrated artists, the current state of music, everything. He also became your gig buddy—seeking out mainstream and indie artists you both liked and going to their live performances downtown bars, jam packed arenas and stadiums. 

But your favorite would always be watching him perform. After his performance at the orientation, he naturally became one of the popular students at UP. He wasn’t popular like a celebrity or an influencer, but heads would turn whenever he walked around campus. Also, he still had the luxury of privacy on his side, but if you looked at the right places, you would find small accounts on social media dedicated to him. He didn’t care for the attention, though, and just went about his day as normally as possible. 

His performance did land him some gigs here and there. You found it cute whenever he’d turn to you to ask if he should accept the invitation or not, and you would always tell him to do whatever he wanted. Most of the time, he accepted, especially if it was at Route 96, a historic venue for aspiring musicians. 

It was here that he performed the first song he wrote by himself called Still With You. It was also during this performance that you began to see him in a different light—quite literally. He was performing with the bar lights off, only the lights on stage and the spotlight illuminated the entire establishment. When the spotlight on him turned purple, you felt a whole new admiration for your best friend. It wasn’t the “Oh god I’m so proud of my best friend” kind, rather it was the “Oh fuck I’m in love with my best friend” realization. 

But like every other story where someone falls in love with their best friend, you kept your feelings hidden, hoping someday it would go away. However, you soon realized, once you fell in love with Jeon Jungkook, there was no going back. It was a rabbit hole. 

The more you spent time with him, the more you fell in love with him and all of him—from the way he smiles to the sound of his laugh, how he would always annoy the shit out of you when you were supposed to be studying to how he would remember small things about you like your favorite snack at the vending machine, how you’d be the first to know his test results to how you’d be his first audience for the short film they needed to produce for that semester, how he would lend you his jacket when you ate bingsu because he knew you’d get cold easily to how he’d send you random memes he found funny out of the blue. 

It was so easy to fall in love with Jeon Jungkook. Thus, everyone else did too. For seven years, you watched on the sidelines as he dated several girls and loved them how you wished he’d love you. 

“In one day, you can finally lay your hands on Jungkook,” your best friend, Mingyu, teased as he took a sip from his beer. 

You let out a sarcastic laugh, head resting on your palm, elbow propped on the wooden table in front of you, a bottle of beer in the other hand. You were bordering on getting tipsy now as you had been drinking since you arrived at La Union with Mingyu and Jungkook in the afternoon. You didn’t even know why you agreed to your best friend’s idea of going to the province for a music festival when you had your graduation—the very graduation that was seven years in the making—on Sunday.   

“Fuck you, Kim Mingyu,” you told the honey-skinned man across from you with a chuckle. 

“What? Let this be your final test before finally graduating. Are you ready?” a lopsided grin appeared on his handsome face. 

Under the orange light, Kim Mingyu was easily one of the most handsome men you ever laid your eyes on. He was also tall, well-mannered, smart, capable, had a stable job while being a med student, and the textbook definition of a walking green flag. In another life, you could imagine yourself falling for him instead of Jungkook. But in the current universe you were in, he was one of your trusted friends who had known about your crush on Jungkook since first year. 

The waiter arrived to bring you your order of another bucket of Red Horse beer. Mingyu took a bottle from the silver bucket and opened it. “Happy horse for the happy whore,” he told you as he handed you the fresh bottle of beer. You gave him a middle finger. He laughed. “What? Am I not right?” 

“You’re the whore,” you replied. “I saw you with that cute chinito by the beach earlier. What happened to Mino?” 

He rolled his eyes at the mention of his ex—or you believed was his ex. You never really know with Mingyu and relationships. He was the complete opposite of you. While you were a hopeless romantic at heart, he didn’t believe in love—or so he says. 

“Seven years,” Mingyu mused, glancing towards the beach. “You didn’t stop falling in love with your best friend. Now, it looks like you don’t even plan to stop.” 

You sucked your teeth, tracing the water around the bottle due to the ice with your fingers. “Do I just throw it away?” You weren’t sure if you were asking Mingyu or yourself. “We make a good pair.” You laughed to yourself. 

“Except?” Mingyu pointed out the harsh reality. 

“Except,” you took in a shaky breath. “He doesn’t love me back. Maybe.” 

Mingyu sighed deeply, looking at his watch. “Time check: you still have your hopes up.” 

“It’s still early,” you argued. “I still have two days. Just give me time.” 

“Give me time?” Mingyu repeated, taking a sip from his beer. “What the fuck are you talking about, Sola? The universe has given you all the time. But you did nothing.” 

You groaned, throwing your head back as a realization hit you. “Fuck, Gyu, I just—I just realized. Is it right that we’re here? Was it the right decision to come here? My mom’s gonna be so mad once she finds out I’m in La Union.”  

“It’s all you. You’re a raging masochist,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Anyway. Let’s just play a game. Let’s enumerate all the things you did with Jungkook. Those are seven years worth of memories, Sola. Game?” 

“Game.” 

“What year did you first meet Jungkook?” 

A smile immediately creeped up on your face. “2017.” 

Mingyu waved his hand at you. “Wow! You can do math! But I just thought of something—instead of just general memories. Let’s make them specific. Let’s list down all the stupid things you did for Jungkook for seven years.” 

“The fuck are you talking about?” you let out a scoff, drinking your beer. 

“What? Now you can’t remember?” he challenged. 

You clicked your tongue. “Fine, you stupid bitch. Ask away.” 

Mingyu grinned. “2018.” 

You hummed before saying, “Jungkook was heartbroken that year. I was back at home and he was at UP. But I rushed into the city to be there for him. I remember because I was supposed to attend this baptism with my parents but I snuck out and got an earful from my mother the next day. I was completely hungover too because Jungkook and I went bar hopping the entire night.” 

“Jesus Christ, Sola.” 

“Don’t judge me. It was my decision, okay?” 

Mingyu rolled his eyes. “Okay. 2019.” 

You stared at Mingyu, laughing as you recalled the memory. “2019. Me and Jungkook walked from UP to Aurora Boulevard just to tell me how Song Areum became his girlfriend.” 

He shook his head. “2020.” 

“2020—he was sick. I had an exam that day, but I quickly answered it so I could buy him his favorite, Tapsilog from Tapsi ni Vivian, before it ran out ‘cos it runs out quickly, right?” Mingyu nodded. You licked your lower lip then let out a small laugh. “But when I got to his dorm room, his roommate already told me Areum brought him to the university hospital. And I failed my exam ‘cos I didn’t answer the back part.” 

“2021, go!” 

“I loved him for four years now and counting. Is that good enough?” 

“Okay. I’ll accept it. 2022?” 

“2022—I’ve been in love with him for five fucking years already, fucking shit!” you exclaimed, feeling the alcohol in you boosting your confidence. 

“Okay. We’re in the last year, girl. What about in 2023? What was the stupid thing you did for Jungkook last year?” 

You gulped. “I’m two years delayed.” 

Mingyu exhaled deeply. A moment of silence settled between the two of you. Then, she asked, “Sola, it all boils down to this: when will you end this?” 

You sat up straight, taking a deep breath. “You mean when will I stop with my foolishness?” Mingyu nodded. You purse your lips. “Maybe when I’m done with UP. When I’m done with UP, I’ll graduate from everything—including him. Especially him.” 

When you got back to your shared room with Jungkook and Mingyu, you were already tipsy. You almost fell face flat on the floor when you opened the door, feeling lightheaded, but luckily, your best friend was there to catch you. 

“You’re drunk, Sola,” Jungkook chuckled deeply. You could smell his expensive cologne—the one you bought for him for his birthday last year and it brought a huge grin on your face, knowing he wore it. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” 

“I’m fine, Guk. I’m not that drunk. But I do need to sit down,” you said followed by a set of giggles as you let Jungkook walk you to the bed you shared with Mingyu, and then you threw yourself on it, back against the mattress, arms spread like an eagle. 

Jungkook sat down beside you. “Are you still mad at me?” 

The question seemed to sober you up instantly. The truth was—you could never stay mad at him. For anything. Sometimes, you’d think he could do the most painful and hurtful thing to you, deliberately, and you would still forgive him even if he wouldn’t apologize. 

“I wasn’t mad. I was just… I just wished you would’ve told me the real reason why you wanted to come here,” you replied softly, biting your lower lip. 

“Would you have come? If I told you I wanted to go here because my ex wanted to reconnect—would you have come?” Jungkook matched your tone, looking over his shoulder to look at you. 

Instinctively, your eyes also darted towards his. The lights in the room were dim, only the lamp, the light coming beneath the bathroom door, and the moonlight outside illuminated the room. Jungkook looked especially beautiful in the dim light—long black wavy hair all messy from his habit of running his fingers through it, hooded eyes staring at you like he was memorizing every inch of you, the gentleness of his features made him look like an angel in this light. 

But then you’d see his dozens of piercings in his ears, eyebrow, and lower lip; his tattooed arm and hand, and the way he looked sexy as hell with his thin white long sleeved, sleeves rolled up to his elbow, and his white beach shorts that hugged his strong muscular thighs, and you’d realize he was more of a Greek god than an angel. 

“I’ll go wherever you go,” you told him, swallowing the lump in your throat. “You know that.” 

Jungkook lied down beside you and you felt your heartbeat racing. His tattooed arm was brushing against yours. His head was tilted, close to yours. 

“Will you go with me to the moon?” he asked. 

A small smile ghosted on your lips. “I will, Guk.” 

“How about Saturn?” 

“I’ll be with you there, too.” 

“Law school?” 

You turned your head to him. He was already looking at you. “Law school? Why?” 

He brushed the hair on your face aside with his fingers, making you tense. But you kept your composure. “I passed UP LAE.” 

“But,” you began. “What about film? I thought you didn’t wanna become a lawyer like your parents.” 

Jungkook looked at the ceiling. “It’s not that bad. Being a lawyer. Besides, I like studying.” 

“You’ve always wanted to become a director, though.” 

“I’m not good enough for it,” Jungkook scoffed. “All my batchmates are already directing their films and showing them at festivals here and abroad—yet here I am. Still here.” 

You turned on your side, propping your elbow to support your head as you looked at your best friend. It was rare for Jungkook to open up. Even to you. He was always someone who kept all his innermost thoughts and feelings to himself. In the seven years you’d known him, it still felt like there was a wall around him that you never managed to climb on or punch through. For seven years, it felt like you simultaneously knew everything and nothing about your best friend. 

“It’s not the end of the road, Jungkook. So what if they’re showing their films at festivals? You can do it too. At your own pace, in your own time,” you said. You wanted to reach for his face, to make him look at you, but you were scared. “You’re a great filmmaker, Guk. The best direk ever.” 

He looked at you once again. “You’re drunk, Yu Sola. Go to sleep.” 

He sat up, carrying your legs over the bed. You let out a groan. “I’m not drunk, Jeon Jungkook. Why do you always do that?” 

“Do what?” he asked, chuckling. 

“You always cut the conversation when you’re beginning to open up. You always clamp up, Guk. I wish you didn’t do that. I’m your—,” you bit the inside of your lower lip. What right did I have to demand him to open up to me? “I’m your best friend.” 

“I don’t clamp up. I just have nothing else to say,” your best friend replied with a shrug, fixing his hair as he looked in the mirror across from your bed. “Go to sleep. You’ll get a massive headache tomorrow. I’m just going to meet with Areum and her friends.”  

Then, you blurted it out. It just happened. You didn’t even know how. You always had this grand idea in your mind to do it after the graduation ceremony, that way, you could immediately leave. That way, you didn’t have to see him all the time. You would have enough time to move on and move forward in your life. 

But nothing in life truly went according to plan. 

“I love you, Jungkook,” you confessed. Your heart felt heavy and you sat up, head hanging low as you picked on your nails. Tears were beginning to form in your eyes. “I’ve loved you for seven years now.” 

And you sobbed, burying your face in your hands. Then, moments later, you felt your hands being taken away from your face. You lifted your head and saw Jungkook kneeling in front of you, holding your hands. He let one go to wipe away the tears on your face, to tuck your hair behind your ear. 

And then, ever so slowly, Jungkook leaned in and kissed you softly. A tear rolled down your cheek. His lips were soft while yours were chapped and wet from your tears, but he didn’t seem to mind. You were still in shock. This was not the response you expected. Not even in your wildest dreams but it was happening. 

Jungkook held your face, tilting his head as he continued to kiss you more—only this time with more need and passion. Your body reacted. You began to reciprocate his kisses, hands wrapping around his wrists. He tasted of toothpaste and mouthwash. 

He pushed you onto the bed, one hand remaining on your face while the other held your waist. Your fingers curled the ends of his hair. You could feel his growing member on your stomach and feeling it was enough to make your cunt wet. His lips then traveled on your jaw, down to your neck. You were breathing heavily as he nibbled on your sensitive skin, making a soft moan escape your lips. 

His hand made its way under your shirt and your breath hitched, causing Jungkook to lift his head from your neck, and look you in the eyes. 

“You okay?” he asked softly. 

You nodded. “I’m okay.” 

“Okay,” he smiled, making your heart skip a beat. “Is it okay if I take this off now?” 

“I—,” you were at a loss for words. Was this really happening? It seemed too good to be true. But it was happening and you wanted it more than anything else. “Okay. Yes, you can.” 

Jungkook peeled your shirt off, exposing your naked chest. You didn’t wear bras; found it too much of a hassle and you always hated the feeling. Instead, you wore nipple tapes. 

“What are these, Sola?” Jungkook asked with a chuckle, making your cheeks heat up. 

“They’re nipple tapes, you dumb ass,” you replied, smacking his arm lightly. 

“Okay. Do I just take them off, like, tape?” 

He was adorably cute. “Yes, you just take them off like tape.” 

And so he did just that. The coolness of the room and your arousal instantly perked your nipples. Jungkook took your breasts in his hands, massaging and squeezing them, making you arch your back ever so slightly. Then, he dipped his head, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth while remaining to massage the other. 

The sensation was simply divine. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol in your system, your feelings for your best friend, or just Jungkook in general that made you feel so good at that moment. Your hands traced the outline of his toned biceps through his thin polo. 

You were so wet and when Jungkook began to grind his hard cock against your clothed cunt, you felt another wave of wetness. You wanted him—all of him—and so you began to rock your hips against him, making him release a moan. 

He lifted his head, staring at you with those doe eyes you have loved for seven years. “Are you sure?” 

Those three words held so much. Once you crossed the line, there was no going back, and both of you knew that. 

“I’m sure. I want this, Guk. I want you.” 

That was all he needed to hear to make love to you the whole night. Once both of you came, Jungkook laid beside you, chest heaving. For a while, the both of you lay in silence. 

“Will you be here in the morning?” you asked, turning your head on the pillow to face him. 

He did the same. “I will,” he promised. “Go to sleep now, Sola.” 

But he wasn’t. 

When you woke up the next day, the other side of the bed was empty. You sat up, burying your face in your hands. What the hell have I done? What the hell have we done? 

You left the bed, entering the bathroom, and proceeding to take a shower. In there, you cried, because nothing was going to be the same after last night. You couldn’t blame it all on Jungkook either. You also made it happen. You desperately wished it was just a dream—another wet dream you had of your best friend—but the traces of his cum were still on your inner thigh. 

It happened. There was no going back. Everything was going to be different now and most of all, you didn’t know if you still had your best friend. 

When you finished showering and getting dressed, you made your way down to the beach. You had texted Mingyu while getting dressed and he told you he was there with the chinito you saw him with, Wonwoo. Arriving at the beach, you pulled your phone out of your back pocket, about to text the honey-skinned med student when you saw Jungkook with Areum in the water, his strong arms that held you throughout the night, now wrapped around her waist. Fits of giggles escaped her lips as Jungkook wrestled with her in the water, a huge grin on his handsome face. 

Your heart shattered. 

You quickly looked away, a fresh set of tears forming in your eyes. As you were about to turn away, you heard Mingyu’s familiar voice which caused you to stop on your tracks. 

“Sola, hey, there you—what’s wrong?” The concern in his voice was palpable. You felt his arm around your shoulder as he pulled you closer to him. 

“I—I finally told him, Gyu,” you said, taking in a sharp shaky breath. “I finally told him.” 

Mingyu didn’t ask for more details. He knew. He led you back to your room, promising Wonwoo to text him later. Once you were back, you just cried on his shoulder. He didn’t say anything and neither did you. He just let you be until the tears finally stopped. 

“I’m sorry I pulled you away from Wonwoo. He seems like a nice guy,” you said after a while, voice raspy from all the crying. 

“It’s fine. We’ll be seeing each other often anyway,” Mingyu shared. 

You looked at him, surprised. “Really?” 

Your friend nodded, laughing to himself. “You know, all those times I teased you about your being a hopeless romantic and believing in love—I think it’s backfiring on me now with Wonwoo.” 

“You love him?” you asked. 

“I don’t know, Sola. But I know what I feel for him is different,” he answered. “It’s terrifying. How quickly someone can change your perspective on something.” 

You couldn’t argue with that. 

“What’s your plan now?” Mingyu asked. 

You sighed deeply. “I think I’m going to head back. My graduation is tomorrow anyway. Do you mind booking the bus ride home?” 

“I’m staying here, Sola. I—I want to be with Wonwoo more,” Mingyu confessed, smiling at you apologetically. 

“Gyu…” 

“Please be a friend to me now, Sola.” 

You pressed your lips tightly. Then, you nodded. You wanted your friend to be happy. 

“I’m gonna pack now,” you announced. 

“Okay. Just text me if you need anything,” Mingyu gave you a hug and kiss on top of your head. “I want you to know I’m proud of you, Sola.” 

Once Mingyu left, you began to pack. You didn’t bring a lot of clothes, but you were still biding your time. A part of you didn’t want to leave. You wanted to stay here and never graduate. But that illusion was quickly broken when you saw your mom’s contact flashing on your phone screen. 

You sucked your teeth before answering, “Hi mom.” 

“Sola? Where the hell are you? Why haven’t you been answering my texts? Your graduation is tomorrow. Everyone is looking forward to it!” she exclaimed frantically. 

“Mom, I’m sorry. I’m in La Union with Jungkook and—,” 

“What the hell are you doing in La Union?! You better get back instantly, Sola. I’m not kidding. If you don’t graduate now, I really don’t know what I’m gonna do. It’s been seven years! Please let me graduate too.” 

“I’m already packing and I’ll catch the bus home soon. I just—Mom, I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it in time for the ceremony ‘cos—,” 

Your phone was suddenly snatched from your grip. You looked up and saw Jungkook standing beside you. 

“Hey tita, it’s Jungkook. Yes. Don’t worry. I’ll take her home. She’ll make it in time. Yes. We’ll be home before the ceremony, tita. Okay. Bye.” 

He ended the call and sat down on the bed across from you, handing you your phone back. You grabbed it from him. “You don’t have to take me home.” 

“I already promised tita I will,” he answered. 

“You didn’t have to,” you muttered, folding your shirt. 

Silence. Jungkook was just staring at you the entire time as you folded your clothes and packed them inside your bag. Then, he said those two words. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You bit the inside of your lower lip. What was he exactly for? For having sex with you? For spending the night with you? For not feeling the same way as you? All of the above? 

As if reading your thoughts, he added, “For everything.” 

You nodded. “You don’t have to apologize for anything,” you told him. “It’s not your fault you don’t love me the same way.” But why did you kiss me? Why did you make love to me? 

Jungkook lowered his head. You zipped your bag. “Let’s go. I still have a graduation to chase.” 

“What’s this?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed when you saw Areum standing beside Jungkook’s car with her luggage and bag. 

“I’ll drop Areum on the way,” Jungkook announced, grabbing her luggage and putting it at the back of his car. 

You pressed your lips in a line. “Fine.” You stepped into the back passenger seat, quickly grabbing your phone and earphones from your bag, and plugging it in. 

Lowering yourself on the seat, you rested your head against the window as Areum stepped into the passenger seat while Jungkook sat on the driver’s seat. You caught him glancing at you from the corner of your eyes, but you didn’t look back. Instead, you turned the volume up. Moments later, he began to drive. 

You decided to sleep the entire ride. However, when you woke up, you immediately realized Jungkook wasn’t driving in your hometown. “Where are we?” you asked, taking one of your earphones off. 

“I’m dropping Areum first,” Jungkook replied. 

You frowned. “I’m the one chasing a graduation, remember?” 

“Shh, just go back to sleep. Here,” he threw something at you—your favorite candy, Butterball, landing on your lap. 

You grabbed it, tempted to eat it, but you threw it back at him and went back to sleep. By the time you woke up again, you were at Areum’s house. She turned to look at you, smiling. 

She was really beautiful and kind. You began to feel guilty for hating her so much the entire time. “Congrats on your graduation, Sola. I’ll see you around, okay?” 

“Thanks Areum.” 

After Jungkook walked her to her door, he came back to the car. “What are you doing there? Come here,” he said, patting the passenger seat. 

“I’m fine here,” you replied. 

“Sola, come on. Please? I drive better with you beside me.” 

For the rest of the ride to your home, you sat beside Jungkook. Unlike before, where your car rides were filled with music and random conversations, tonight it was silent. You didn’t plug your phone into his stereo and you kept your eyes closed the whole time, listening to your music. Once in a while, Jungkook would try to make small talk, but you would only give him short replies, then went back to sleeping. 

When you arrived at your family house, you stayed with Jungkook outside for a bit, both leaning against his car. 

“It’s your graduation in four hours.” 

“Are you not going to come to yours?” 

“I don’t see the point,” Jungkook replied. 

You nodded and pushed yourself off his car. “I’ll head inside. Thanks for the ride, Jungkook.” 

He grabbed your arm before you entered the gate. You stared into his eyes. You couldn’t quite place what held them right now. Maybe you never really knew Jeon Jungkook after all this time. 

“I’m sorry, Sola.” 

“Why do you keep saying sorry? I told you—it’s not your fault and I’m fine. I’m over it now. See you around, Jungkook.” 

You head back inside. Graduation was in four hours. 

You wore a traditional Filipiniana dress, a pair of white heels that were already scraping the skin at the back of your feet, your mother’s pearls, and your sablay when your name was called. You came up on the stage with your excited mother, shook hands with your Dean, and finally grabbed your diploma. You always imagined graduation to be something so spectacular, but the moment you received the piece of paper that confirmed you had, indeed, graduated—you just felt the same. 

After the ceremony, you went back to your house where almost all your relatives from your mother’s side were waiting for you. A tarpaulin with your graduation picture and the words, “Congratulations Yu Sola!” printed on it and hung outside your gate. You greeted everyone on your way, telling them thanks, before retreating in your room to change out of your dress and into more comfortable clothes. 

While you were slipping on your shirt, your phone buzzed on your nightstand. When you grabbed it, you saw Jungkook’s message on the lockscreen. 

Let’s go, it said. 

You knew it meant one thing: a beer and butterball at Route 96. There was still a part of you that wanted to go because you always went when you received a message like that from Jungkook. It was always a yes when it came to him. But now that you confessed, something shifted, whether he admitted to it himself or not. 

So, you put your phone in your pocket, and went down. But as you do so, you felt your phone vibrate again. You pulled it out of your pocket and Jungkook texted you another message. 

Please? One for the road. I’m outside. 

You bit your lower lip. Then, you made your way out. There, you saw Jungkook wearing his barong and sablay, leaning against his car like hours ago. He smiled as soon as he saw you come out. 

“You still have it,” he pointed to your shirt. 

You looked down on it and realized you had picked his shirt of all things. It wasn’t anything special; just something he bought at a boutique. But it meant a lot to you because he gave it to you after you spilled beer on your shirt years ago. 

“You attended your ceremony?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. He nodded. “I thought you didn’t see the point.” 

“I changed my mind.” 

You wished you were just as quick in having a change of heart. 

“One for the road?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. 

You took a deep breath and nodded. “One for the road.” 

“Shit, I forgot it’s Sunday. It’s closed,” Jungkook sighed, seeing the steel gate at Route 96. 

“It’s fine. Let’s just go,” you told him, grabbing the beer he bought beforehand and making your way up to the bar. Jungkook followed behind. 

You both leaned in the railing before you, beer in hands. Another silence. 

You couldn’t believe this was the culmination of the seven years you spent loving Jeon Jungkook. You thought, after confessing, you would never speak again. He’d distance himself from you but here you were—having a beer with him at your favorite place in the world. You wished you knew what was going on in his mind right now. You wished you could dissect his mind and learn every thought he had ever since you confessed. 

Because you never really knew Jeon Jungkook. You were just so in love with him and idealized who he was over the last seven years. Suddenly, all the stupid memories you shared with Mingyu flashed in your mind and made you laugh. 

“What’s funny?” Jungkook asked, chuckling. 

You shook your head, drinking your beer. “Nothing.” 

He nudged your side. “Come on, share it.” 

You took a deep breath and for the first time, you looked at Jeon Jungkook and saw him for who he was; not the man you have loved for the past seven years. 

“I graduated, finally.” 

↪˚ author’s note: if you want to donate to me via kofi or gcash <33 i would appreciate it a lot. thank you & see you in more fics later on.

↪˚ permanent taglist: @whoa-jo @kookieandjoonberries

all rights reserved. 2024. belovedguk.

[cheriewoo]

Damsel In Stress | Jeong Yunho & Song Mingi ☆

~ ~ call me chérie ☆

Navigation | Kinktober List

☆ Day 04 : Bodyguards, Shower Sex

↬ [ Synopsis ] : When your bodyguards, devilishly handsome and undeniably sexy, promise you a night to remember, you take it all in stride. Whether it’s bending the rules or indulging in steamy shower sex, you’re ready to embrace the thrill, surrendering yourself completely to the experience.

Word Count : 3.9k Genre : Smut, Angst, Bodyguard Au. Pairing : Bodyguard! Yunho x F.Reader x Bodyguard! Mingi

WARNINGS : Pure smut, shower sex, double penetration, dom/sub undertones, multiple orgasms, praise, petnames ( doll and princess), playful banter and flirting, big dick agenda, mention of alchol and drug consumption.

Tag list OPEN! - let me know if you want to be tagged for this Kinktober list

☆☆☆ NOTE : Day 4 is here, and this is huge just like our handsome boys, Yunho and Mingi. :P . Hope you enjoy this ma chéries. This story contains themes related to alcohol and drug use. Reader discretion is advised.

“Yunho, ahh... keep going, please don’t stop” you cried as Yunho mercilessly pounded deep into you, his thrusts turning your brain to mush. “So good, princess, taking us so well.”

Us? Did he just say “US”?

“Is this what you wanted, doll?” Mingi's deep voice purred from behind, sending a shiver down your spine. “Feels good, doesn’t it… being taken care of like this?” His words heightened the sensation of being at the mercy of your two deliciously handsome bodyguards.

As you pieced together the situation, it felt messy, thrilling, and was definitely going to be hard to explain to your daddy.

Wait… how did you end up here?

Let’s rewind a bit.

—

Your friends called you “Damsel In Distress” for being daddy’s little princess, constantly getting saved by him and your bodyguards Yunho and Mingi and being the mischievous talk of the town. Causing trouble was not something you chose to indulge in voluntarily; it was just that wherever you went, trouble followed you like a loyal dog following its master.

Coming from an opulent family didn’t help either, because people loved to pick on someone who had everything that they didn’t and couldn’t have. Taking behind your back, purposely messing up your drinks to see daddy’s little princess act crazy, and snatching your boyfriend Mingyu were a few things that you had been dealing with for the past six months. With your best friends turning their backs on you, your situation got a thousand times worse. Bullying turned into actual harassment, and this daddy’s little princess went feral.

Up until a point, you did tolerate it; you got your dead mom’s patience after all. You didn’t want anything from a woman who cheated on your S-tier, greenest of the green flag, ultra pro max gentleman daddy, but fate had a way of shoving things down your throat that you didn’t want to be associated with at all. Hence, you were a spitting image of your mom, but the good thing was you got your dad’s behavior and morals, making you the most loyal person you would ever meet.

You were more like a “Damsel In Stress” after multiple failed relationships and a damaged reputation in university. The only people you could gawk at without getting labeled as a “creep” were your handsome bodyguards, Yunho and Mingi. Tall and handsome with Greek god-ish builds, they made anything in their vicinity appear minuscule, and your 5’3” tall frame didn’t help much.

But where your height lacked, you made up for it with your attitude (short girlies for the win). The last six months were the most nightmarish months of your whole freaking life; getting addicted to substances, smoking weed, and sneaking out at late hours to attend God knows what kind of parties became your choice of escape. Your only option.

These were the only things that somehow filled the empty void, hence your daddy decided to ignore it for a while, as long as you were safely back home at dawn, and Yunho and Mingi, being the most dutiful and uptight bodyguards, made sure of it.

Tonight was different, though.

Why? Because you met this girl online, her name’s Ryujin.

You both clicked instantly, shared similar past troubles, and were freshly single, addicted to drugs. You girlies had been planning a getaway to spend a wild night out.

Ryujin found this party happening a few hours' drive from your mansion, kinda illegal with everything from dangerous drugs to premium liquor available, but promising a wild night.

You needed that.

Hence, you sneaked out again without anyone noticing, not even your bodyguards. You sneakily tranquilized their drinks, hehe, not advisable, but kinda the need of the hour.

Then how did this perfectly well-planned night take such an unexpected turn?

You were here to forget all your sorrows, so why were you lying on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, disgusting, your body so limp it felt like you took a thousand fucking punches, not remembering a single thing? The last thing you remembered was Ryujin crying on her knees beside you, fear calling your bodyguards. Yes, they were saved on speed dial just so you could escape out of situations like these without daddy noticing it.

But what happened with you? Did you drink too much? Ingest something so strong that it blacked you the fuck out?

A thousand questions swirled around your mind as darkness took over. You could feel yourself being picked up off the cold and dirty bathroom floor, Ryujin thanking Yunho as he offered to drop her back home, which she declined sweetly, mentioning she could drive back as she had bought her car and had almost sobered up. Fucking traitor! Why call them?!

Wait, Yunho?! What about your drugged drink? Did it not work on them? Who the fuck is carrying you? Is it Mingi? Not complaining at all; you had dreamt of moments like this.

But when—how did they know—why—what the actual motherfucking fuck is this mess?

Yeah, your intoxicated brain couldn’t handle any more, and you passed out.

When the tiniest consciousness slipped into your brain, you opened your eyes to gaze upon the glorious sight in front of you: fine-as-freaking-wine men driving you somewhere.

“What are you guys doing here?” you asked, even if you knew what was going to come your way. “Aren’t you both supposed to be... umm... sleeping?”

It's our job to take care of you.

“It’s our job to look out for you, doll” Mingi replied with a small smile,just the way you expected, his deep voice slightly registering in your intoxicated mind, and huh, did he just call you doll?

“Sleeping? That’s cute. Aren’t you supposed to be in bed by now, princess?” Yunho asked you, a smug look adorning his face, still not answering your question, his sexy smirk visible from the rearview mirror.

What the fuck with these nicknames?

“Guess the dosage wasn’t strong enough, huh?” Mingi chipped in, his handsome frame in the driver’s seat way too distracting for you to register whatever the fuck he said, something along the lines of dosage being strong.

Huh?! You just got caught. Is there a way out of this? Will daddy find out? Will you be punished?

“He-hehe, what dosage are you talking about?” you nervously laughed, thinking of what to say next.

“Can we not play dumb anymore, princess?” Yunho teased, giving you a look that clearly said daddy’s princess just got caught. “Sorry to disappoint you, but boys don’t take naps on the job.” That sealed the deal for you; even the freaking drug betrayed you.

Your lips formed a thin line, your mind made up that any more excuses you planned on coming up with were not going to work on them anymore. You sighed in defeat, earning a chuckle from both of them.

A piercing silence fell over the car, soon replaced by a thick tension that made you shift uncomfortably in your seat, filthy thoughts flickering through your mind like a movie reel.

Was it the sexual frustration building up over the last six months, or the effects of the intoxication? You couldn’t pinpoint it.

But every time you caught Yunho's intense gaze through the rearview mirror, a jolt ran down your spine, heat pooling low in your stomach. His smirk never faltered, his eyes shifting between you and the road, as if he knew exactly what was running through your head.

Mingi, sitting beside him, wasn’t any less subtle. His broad hand casually rested on the steering wheel, but his eyes would drift toward you whenever he thought you weren’t looking. That small smile from earlier still lingered on his lips, making your pulse quicken. You couldn't shake the way his deep voice wrapped around that nickname, “doll”. It felt too intimate, too... dangerous.

Why were your bodyguards acting up today? Was it the aftereffects of the drug, or perhaps... they did feel some kind of way towards you?

So, it wasn’t just you after all, was it? They had been battling with the same thoughts, the same desire simmering beneath the surface. You could feel it—thick in the air, undeniable. A flush creep up your neck, only heightening the tension.

“What’s wrong, princess? Feeling a little too warm?” Yunho teased, his voice laced with amusement as he noticed the way you shifted in your seat again.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing, but there was no escaping the heat radiating from both of them.

They knew exactly what they were doing to you.

As Mingi turned down a quieter street, the path leading exactly where you feared, their house, your fears were confirmed. Or perhaps, it wasn’t fear at all... but excitement for what was about to come next.

Mingi pulled the car to a stop in front of their house, your pulse quickens heart racing a million miles in equal parts anticipation and fear, as Yunho opened the door for you, his hand reaching out to help you step down. His fingers brushed against your skin, seemingly innocent, but it sent a spark of electricity through your body.

No words were exchanged as they led you inside, the door closing behind you with a soft click. The air was thick with unspoken tension, the kind that had been building for months. You were halfway across the living room when Mingi’s deep voice broke the silence.

“You’re trembling, doll” he murmured, stepping closer. His proximity was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help the way your breath hitched. “Nervous? Or is it something else?”

Before you could respond, Yunho was behind you, his breath hot against your neck as he leaned in. “You didn’t think you could drug us and just walk away, did you, princess?” His voice was low, teasing, and far too close for your mind to stay clear.

You turned to face him, heart hammering, but the words stuck in your throat as Yunho’s eyes darkened. In one swift motion, his lips claimed yours—demanding, taking what had been simmering between you for far too long. His kiss was messy, mind-numbing, filled with hunger. A hunger you hadn’t fully realized, or maybe one you’d knowingly ignored given the forbidden nature of your relationship with them.

Before you could catch your breath, Mingi was there. His hand gently tilted your chin toward him, his lips hovering over yours as he whispered, “We’re not finished with you yet.” The words sent a shiver through you. And before you could process the weight of them, his mouth was on yours—slow, deliberate, and utterly consuming, like he had all the time in the world.

You were experiencing things you had once only dreamed of, especially given the state of desperation you felt a few months ago. Even though you had deliberately ignored the hints Yunho and Mingi dropped, this moment felt like a culmination of all those unspoken desires.

A wave of validation washed over you, filling your heart with satisfaction as you realized that they shared the same hunger and lust that had been simmering within you for so long.The hunger that had been building for months had finally ignited, and there was no turning back.

As Mingi continued to kiss you, Yunho decided to take over your neck, decorating it with butterfly kisses. “You taste so sweet,princess” he murmured, nipping at your skin, urging pretty moans from you that were muffled by Mingi’s skillful lips.

“Is she always this responsive?” Mingi teased, pulling back slightly to glance at you, his eyes dark with desire. “We could get used to this.”

“Don’t let it go to your head” you shot back playfully, but your breath hitched as Yunho continued his trail of kisses.

Purple marks blossomed along your neck as Yunho explored further, nibbling on your earlobe before kissing you behind the ear. “You’re driving me wild,do you know that ?” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “We might just want to keep you like this forever.”

“Guess I found your sweet spot” Yunho smirked, oblivious to the way your body reacted as he kept kissing and nibbling that delicate area.

“Mhmm… Yunho… don’t stop” you gasped, earning a chuckle from him at the way his name rolled off your tongue. Your hands tangled in Mingi’s hair as he maintained his steamy kiss.

Mingi pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his voice low and husky. “Just imagine what else we can do to you, doll.”

“Oh, I’m counting on it” you chuckled softly, meeting his gaze. With a playful smirk, you added, “Have a feeling you two won’t disappoint me.”

Yunho caught your eye, his grin playful. “You have no idea how much we’ve been wanting this, do you?”

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you teased, “I might have had a hint… but now, I want a full demonstration.” It was true, tensions had always heightened between the three of you. But given the restrictions and the lack of loose moments like this, it had kept you from exploring each other,until now.

Mingi leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “Don’t worry, we’ll give you a show you won’t forget.”

Mingi's hands found the hem of your top, pulling it up slowly. “Let me take this off for you,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire as the fabric slipped away, leaving your skin bare to his hungry gaze. His gaze had you wet down south, aching to be touched and devoured.

Yunho stepped closer, his fingers eagerly working on your jeans. “You look incredible, but let’s make it even better, shall we?” he teased, his breath hot against your ear as he slid your jeans down your legs, pooling at your feet.

The cold air making contact with you sent goosebumps all over your body, excitement coursing through you.A faint sound of water running caught your ears—was it the shower? A knowing look spread across your face. Ah, so that’s what these two had been planning.

Quite steamy, you thought, and utterly exciting.

The idea of the three of you under the shower, bodies pressed together, both your holes stuffed to the brim,had your arousal pooling, your core dripping with desire.

“Figured it out already, doll?” Mingi chuckled, a knowing look in his eyes as he glanced toward the bathroom where the water was running.

“Then, princess shall not wait any longer” Yunho added, his voice low and sultry, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine.

Both of them took your hands, guiding you toward the bathroom. As you stood under the shower, water cascaded down your body, the heat mixing with your own as you surrendered to the moment.

Yunho's hands cupped your breasts, his touch igniting a fire within you. He played with your now-hard nipples as your head rested back on his shoulder, eyes closed, a disheveled mess with your lips caught between your teeth.

Mingi knelt before you, his gaze intense as he admired how the water glistened on your skin. “You’re absolutely breathtaking” he said, his fingers teasingly grazing your inner thighs before moving higher.

Your breath hitched as Mingi's fingers finally found your dripping core, sliding through your folds that left you gasping. “How does that feel, princess?” he asked, looking up at you with a smirk, clearly enjoying your reaction.

“Unbelievably good” you breathed, leaning back against Yunho, who continued to play with your breasts, his thumbs circling your nipples, making them harden under his touch.

Mingi’s fingers skillfully explored your slick heat, swirling and teasing, collecting soft moans from your lips. “Cum for us, doll. Just enjoy this moment with us” he whispered, his voice dripping with seduction as he picked up the pace, each back-and-forth movement driving you wild.

Yunho's hands moved from your breasts to your waist, steadying you as Mingi's fingers worked their magic. The tension within you built, a delicious pressure threatening to consume you.

Yunho’s breath was hot against your ear as he kissed the delicate spot, quickening your heart and serving as the final blow that made everything come undone.

With a soft gasp, you surrendered to the waves of pleasure, losing yourself completely in the moment as you released onto Mingi’s fingers.

Your head slumped against Yunho’s shoulder as he held you, and you watched Mingi lick your juices off his chubby fingers before shoving them into Yunho's mouth. The sight in front of you sent butterflies racing in your stomach; watching them taste your slick made your core throb with a desperate need for attention.

Without wasting any more time, Yunho twisted your body toward him, his lips glistening with remnants of your juices as hot water cascaded down his face. His hands pulled you closer, signaling you to jump. You wrapped your legs around his waist, a sense of urgency consuming you. In one swift motion, he thrust his hard, aching length into you, filling you completely.

“God, you feel incredible, baby” Yunho groaned, his eyes dark with lust as he relished the sensation of you around him, your walls hugging him providing a warm yet tempting sensation. He was hungry, yet he held back, waiting for Mingi to join.

Taking the cue, Mingi closed the distance, positioning himself behind you. “You ready for more, doll?” he asked, his voice low and sultry, sending a shiver down your spine. You nodded eagerly, excitement pooling in your stomach.

With a firm grip on your hips, Mingi pressed himself against you, slowly pushing his cock inside your ass. “You’re so tight” he grunted, a mix of pleasure and disbelief in his voice as he slid deeper. “You’re going to feel amazing filled up by both of us.”

The sensation was overwhelming; the hot water, both your holes occupied, and the intoxicating feeling of being completely claimed by both men. You let out a breathy moan, a mix of pleasure and slight discomfort as you adjusted to the sensation.

“I’ve never felt anything like this. Boys, please move.” you gasped but responded to them, your body trembling with delight.

Yunho tightened his grip on you, his thrusts steady and deep, matching Mingi's rhythm as he began to move behind you. “Just relax and let us take care of you” Yunho whispered against your ear, his breath hot and inviting. “You’re going to love this.”

“We’ve got you, princess” Mingi encouraged, his hands finding your waist, guiding your movements as they both took you to new heights of pleasure. “Close your eyes and let loose.”

You obeyed as their pace quickened, drawing a chorus of moans from your lips, leaving you breathless. The overwhelming sensation, mixed with the heat of the water, only heightened your arousal. The boys were just as breathless, groaning with each hard thrust. Mingi's lips parted in a string of "oh my gods" as he pushed deeper inside you. You could feel him on the edge, just like your own release was building to its peak.

Suddenly, Yunho slowed his thrusts, savoring the moment as he realized both you and Mingi were hovering on the edge. “What’s the rush, baby?” he teased, his voice low and sultry. “We want to feel every single second .”

Mingi chuckled, pressing his chest against your back, his hands gripping your hips firmly. “Let’s take our time” he whispered hotly against your ear. “We want to enjoy you completely.”

The change in pace drove you wild, and you squirmed between them, desperate for more. “Please… don’t stop” you gasped, the need overwhelming you.

“Such a needy little thing” Yunho murmured with a wicked grin. “Just the way we like it.” With that, he picked up the pace again, thrusting into you harder, while Mingi added more pressure from behind, teasing and heightening the electric pleasure surging through you.

The urgency in your core built up rapidly. “I’m so close” you moaned, eyes fluttering shut as everything else faded away, only the two of them and the pleasure they gave you remained.

“I can’t hold on much longer, gonna cum.” you gasped, your body trembling between them. An urged need to release and break apart washed over you pushing you more and more and over the edge.

Yunho and Mingi exchanged knowing glances, their thrusts becoming more conssitent and delicious. “Cum for us, doll.” Mingi urged, his sultry voice in your ear. “We’re right there with you.”

With a final deep thrust from Yunho and Mingi's teasing dicks, pleasure crashed over you like a huge wave. A loud moan escaped your lips as your release hit, sending shock waves through your entire body. “Holy fuck”

Feeling you clench around him, Yunho groaned, his grip tightening. Mingi pressed against you from behind, both men overwhelmed by your powerful release had their cocks twitching for a release.

“Damn, you feel incredible” Yunho breathed, thrusting erratically. “We’re right behind you, princess.”

With one last powerful thrust, Yunho filled you, followed by Mingi, their warmth mingling as waves of pleasure crashed over you once more.

As they pulled out, you leaned back against Yunho, feeling blissfully satisfied. “Best shower ever” you murmured, wrapped in the warmth of their embrace

Truly that was the best shower and the best sex ever.

Yunho and Mingi stepped out of the shower, with Yunho carrying you. They took care of you, drying your hair and helping you get dressed before cleaning themselves up. Being taken care of like this was something you hadn’t experienced in a while, and it felt nice, you heart did a happy dance as you smiled at them, soaking their warm energy in.

Once dressed, you and Yunho settled on the living room couch, flipping through random channels on TV. Mingi soon joined, bringing refreshments, and settled on your left. The three of you cuddled on the couch, with you sandwiched between their warm, muscular bodies.

“What about my dad...?” you trailed off, the thought of explaining this to him crossing your mind as he was set to return from his business trip.

“Let’s worry about that later, yeah princess?” Yunho suggested, stealing a quick peck from your lips.

“Let’s just enjoy being together now, doll” Mingi added, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

Yeah that for the future you to worry. We’ll take care of daddy, lets enjoy the present for now.

For Now, Damsel no longer in stress.

~ ~ Chérie ☆ signin’ off

DISCLAIMER: This is totally fictional and not a real depiction of the ATEEZ members. It's all just for fun only so please don’t take anything seriously and keep the mood light around here.

© ShixCherie.

[ssoupernova]

Christmas for Steve and Bucky

(I love the 20s, 30s and 40s so here's some information about what Christmas was like during this time and the things Steve and Bucky wouldn't recognise/be familiar with)

In their childhoods 'A Christmas Carol' was very popular, and decorating trees with handmade items and electric lights was common. Handmade Christmas cards complete with Christmas cookies would have been a very common gift. (Plus I bet Steve would continue to give them out now).

Oranges were an incredibly popular stocking stuffer during the 20s and 30s and represented an affordable luxury for many Americans.

Steve and Bucky would probably be shocked by how early people began decorating for Christmas, or seeing Christmas things in stores early. During their childhood trees were often only decorated on Christmas Eve.

Christmas tree lighting ceremonies were firmly established during their childhood so watching Christmas tree lights turned on in public parks and places would be familiar to them, typically accompanied by Christmas carols and choirs.

The Rockettes were still rather new but performed their Christmas Spectacular for years during Steve and Bucky's youth.

They likely wouldn't be familiar with advent calendars, which only gained popularity in America after World War 2. They also probably wouldn't know about the Nutcracker, which only made its way to the US in 1944. Candy canes also weren't popular until 1950s when they were mass produced so Steve and Bucky likely wouldn't associate them as heavily with Christmas as they are now.

During the 1920s Santa was referred to as both Santa and St Nicholas, so it's likely the two would use the names interchangeably.

Collecting and displaying snow babies was popular and they are adorable! They were a staple in Christmas decor. Crepe paper was very popular, including instructions on making crepe dresses for one time use!

Steve Rogers would never have heard 'Rudoloh the Red Nosed Reindeer ' before. He may have been familiar with the character, but that's unlikely (however infinitely cuter if he knew the character and got to hear the song for the first time).

Rudolph only became a household name after the song, but in 1939 was a part of a department stores promotions. Rudolph was the main character of a small childrens story they published that year. The most likely way for Steve to know about it is through Bucky and him receiving the book when buying gifts for someone else, maybe Bucky's sister.

Steve and Bucky may have been familiar with the radio show of "The Cinnamon Bear" a children's series where twins try find their missing Christmas star with the help of a teddy bear. Very cute, I could imagine they'd find listening to it now very nostalgic.

There's also a fairly solid chance that Steve and Bucky had been to a white elephant party before, as they have been fairly popular since 1901.

I definitely need to read/write some fics about Christmas time for them, and adapting to more modern Christmas's djekskek

[blightbright]

me hyperfixating, experiencing a niche intersection of Things I Know Too Much About, and trying to explain to random strangers how Trick Weekes didn't plan to give Solas magical song-speech but then ran with it organically and intuitively and it became a major part of Solas as a character AND NOT ONLY THAT but Solas as a character partially nods to Odin, a Norse god associated with wisdom and wolves who wanders the world in deceptively humble guises and carries the burden of terrible knowledge and maybe will destroy the world while trying to save it, and Odin is called Galdraföðr, the creator of magical songs, specifically song-spells woven by using a very specific cadence and meter of ancient poetry, and

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

Laleh - Some Die Young 2012

"Some Die Young" is a song by Iranian-Swedish singer-songwriter Laleh from Gothenburg, Sweden, taken as the lead single from her fourth studio album, Sjung, and was written and produced by Laleh. Lyrically, the song discusses the loss of a loved one but also the need not to give up following this and holding out hope that things will eventually get better. The song became closely associated with the period of national mourning amidst the 2011 Norwegian terrorist attacks in Oslo and Utøya by a far-right extremist, with newspaper articles, university lectures and a number of fan videos to this effect emerging. Laleh was invited to perform as one of only two international artists at the official memorial concert in Oslo on the first anniversary of the event in 2012, and later performed the song at the 2012 Nobel Peace Prize Concert.

Commercially, "Some Die Young" made a large impact across Scandinavia. In Sweden it was certified double platinum, peaking at number 9 on the Sverigetopplistan and number 2 on the DigiListan. In Norway, the song peaked at number 1 and remained at the top of the chart for eight weeks. It is the twentieth best selling single of all time in Norway and has been certified 14× Platinum. "Some Die Young" also charted in Denmark and Finland. The single was also a considerable success on radio, topping the Norwegian airplay chart for a number of weeks and entering the top ten in Sweden. It was her first single which was released internationally outside of Scandinavia. She signed an international deal with Island Records in January 2014, leading to a number of songwriting and production credits for artists including Shawn Mendes, Adam Lambert, Demi Lovato, and Ellie Goulding.

"Some Die Young" received a total of 43,6% yes votes. :'(

[heechwe]

REMEMBER THAT | 송민기

⟢ PAIRING: song mingi x fem!reader ⟢ WORD COUNT: 5K ⟢ GENRE: angst, slight fluff, smut ⟢ TAGS: exes(ish) au, "we're on a break" au, soft pining, miscommunication, makeup sex, praise kink, oral (f receiving), semi-dom!mingi, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie ⟢ SYNOPSIS: A break is supposed to give you time to understand what you do and don't want. But what if Mingi has to come with everything that frustrates you about him, no exceptions? Can you make it work, or will you both succumb to the pressure of love not being enough? ⟢ AUTHOR'S NOTE: Beta'ed by my babes Booki @kwanisms, Tiya @gyubakeries, and Ally @lovetaroandtaemin, I love you all so much. Also song title inspiration from LANY!

There are many valid pieces of evidence to support the argument that breaks never work. Friends, family, and perfect strangers remind you, solicited or not, why minor blips of time meant to think things through are simply an excuse, leading to the demise of a relationship.

“Don’t be chickenshit,” your best friend Karina remarked when you told her you were officially taking some time apart from Mingi. He would stay back at the dorms while you both took the next two weeks to think about your future. He didn’t want to, but he had to respect your wishes if he wanted any chance to mend the fences that were broken. “You know what you want to do, so do it. Don’t hide behind a ‘break.’”

You weren’t hiding, not in the slightest. If anything, the past few days alone have given you time to breathe. To reflect on the things that have and haven’t been working in your relationship for the last year.

You work in the same industry, and yet you have kept the entirety of your coupled status under wraps from everyone, save for your intimate group of loved ones. It isn’t hard to hide when you work on almost ten guys’ hair and makeup, but it’s all too easy to let feelings impede upon your professionalism.

Mingi’s always been willing to give you everything, but he doesn’t always see the entire picture of your needs. Sometimes, you don't need him to rescue you, and his eagerness borders the line of smothering too much for your comfort.

And yet, running through the pros and cons doesn’t make you miss him any less.

You ache waking up alone, not feeling the rise and fall of his chest under your head or hearing the sounds of his gargantuan feet pattering around your apartment. It became his apartment too by association after the fifth month of dating, his belongings sitting in every nook and cranny of what used to be your solitary space. Now, without him, it feels too hollow, too reminiscent of what it was like before he came into your life.

Even drives without him are terrible, the usual cacophony of traffic more bearable when he’s by your side, singing along off-key to the music on the radio or to his playlists when he uses your car’s bluetooth.

His absence is everywhere, and where there’s freedom sits all the despair attached to his missing presence.

“It hurts!”

“It’s not gonna hurt if you just listen to me.” You try to move closer to Hongjoong’s eye with the pencil in your hand, but he whips his head away again before you can begin on his waterline. “I told you to look up and away from me. You’ll barely feel it!”

“That’s a lie and you know it.” Hongjoong pouts in the makeup chair, and you stifle a giggle that bubbles in your throat. Watching so many impeccable performers be terrified of makeup applicators is probably one highlight of your career so far, especially guys as intimidating to look at as the one in front of you.

Suddenly, you feel him enter the room. The instinctual pull between you and Mingi goes beyond logical bounds, the tether made of only the metaphysical. It reminds you, every time he walks into the same space you’re in, how your body wants to be nowhere but next to his. You hate it more now than you ever have before.

“Am I going next when he’s finished?” Mingi cuts through the sudden silence to ask, his timbre a tad hollow but somehow still hopeful. You haven’t spoken for three days. This past weekend is the longest you’ve ever gone without communicating with each other. You can tell just from the sound of his voice it’s taken a toll on him.

You don’t turn to face him directly, finding some confidence from not having to look at the face you love so much head-on. “Seonghwa is, but he’s off getting his shirt hemmed, I think.”

“Just be patient, man.” Hongjoong winks at his younger friend. You thwack Hongjoong on the cheek with your eyeshadow brush, making the humored expression on his face dissipate.

“Did I say you have to talk when you’re getting your face done?” Hongjoong shakes his head with terrified eyes. “Exactly.”

You go back to your kit, but you feel despondence creep up your neck at the small quantity of black and neutral eyeshadow you have left. “Fuck it, we’ll just have to make do with the eyeliner right now.”

“Can’t you grab some from Mina’s kit? She probably won’t mind.”

You shake your head and go back to the pencil you dropped on the vanity when Mingi walked in. “I’ll just grab some more from the store later.”

“I can pick up some now if you need me to.” Mingi pipes up again, more hope seeping through his words. Sometimes, his overwhelmingly helpful nature makes you think he'd be reincarnated as a big puppy in the next life.

You finally face him with a soft smile, and you see the corners of his eyes crinkle up at your expression. “It’s okay, Min, really. Nothing I can’t handle.”

This is exactly why you needed space from Mingi. Staring into his big, brown eyes that make your body even a fraction weaker than before is why you can’t think through things properly around him. He takes all the logic and reason out of you, leaving you only to listen to the workings of your heart. And such an effect makes it simple to forget the myriad of minor problems that became so big you could not suppress them any more.

As he smiles at you, you repeat the words in your head like a mantra: he doesn’t listen, he’s too reckless, he acts on impulse half the time…

Seonghwa walks in and exclaims, “Okay, I think the shirt fits finally!” He looks between you and Mingi and then stares at Hongjoong with a curious fluff of his eyebrows. “What’s up with them?” He mouths to his friend.

Hongjoong can only shrug, the expression basically stating “Who knows anymore man?” without verbal support.

The longer you lock eyes with Mingi, the other men in the room long forgotten, you wonder if all you’re doing during this break is delaying the inevitable.

You took copious snapshots of the boys’ last looks before they had to practice on the stage. The sweat would ruin what you worked on for hours, so it was crucial to catalog it for your portfolio before that could happen.

Now, you watch them work through the three songs’ choreography with ease. Mingi takes center stage multiple times, and you smile to yourself at how ridiculous he acted an hour prior when he was in your chair, so busy complimenting you that you could barely get through doing his makeup.

“You look really pretty today,” he says as you dab the bridge of his nose with liquid highlighter. “I mean, you always do, but I haven’t seen you in a few days, so…”

You smirk and put the tub back in your makeup kit. “Making up for lost time, Min?”

Mingi blushes, a shade so pink you think you can skip putting that component of his makeup on altogether. “Just stating the obvious.”

“You don’t know,” you say, “I may have looked like shit in my sweatpants and ratty t-shirts all weekend.”

“Wanna know a secret?” You humor him, moving closer until his lips brush the shell of your ear, making you shudder. “That’s when you look the most beautiful to me.”

You retreat with trembling hands and a breathless laugh. “Are you gonna keep spitting game or can I finish your eyes now?”

Mingi smirks and snaps his eyes shut, pressing his face as close as he can to yours once again. He whispers with such a quiet but sultry tone, you think you may risk it all and kiss him once to get it out of your system. “Do whatever you want with me.”

And here you are, back in his orbit like he’s the sun and you’re a planet, willing to spin around him forever. A few weeks ago, you didn’t mind doing so until it made you dizzy, but you don’t know now if you miss depending so much on him. His “I got this, babe” one minute and “I can handle it” the next slowly made you realize he either didn’t trust you to work through anything without his help or he was so willing he couldn’t see how it came across. 

Bringing it to his attention didn’t make him any wiser to the problem, his response defensive rather than introspective. He argued it was in any boyfriend’s nature to want to do everything for their girlfriend. “Don’t you do the same for me? What’s the difference?” He asked in the fight's haste that led to your desire to take a breather from each other.

Flitting the memories away, you focus on Mingi’s undeniably enchanting dancing and rapping. It’s what reminds you why you fell for him in the first place, both his talent and work ethic, which gave way to everything else that turned you into putty for him. 

Before the group can finish the last song, a courier taps on your shoulder. “For you, miss.” He holds out a bag from the makeup store downtown, the contents inside being all that is low in your kit.

“I didn’t order anything,” you respond, fighting the only logical answer and culprit of the situation. The kid shrugs and makes his way out of the building, and you turn back to Mingi, the giant lost in his choreography. You feel your eyes light with fire rather than fuzziness, your desires and impulses from before long gone.

When he drops from the stage and makes it to the back, you slam the bag into his chest before walking away. “Wait! You said you needed this stuff!” Mingi trails behind quickly, his long legs catching up to you in seconds.

You turn when you’re alone in the hallway, your fury unleashed. “I said I could do it after work, and you went over my head again to do something I deliberately said you didn’t have to do!” Your bottom lip trembles. “Do you not care about listening to me at all?”

“What? No!” He shakes his head, his own face becoming a mask of confused anger. “I just wanted to help. And it’s just twenty bucks of makeup. Why is this such an issue right now?”

“Because I didn’t ask for your help!” You throw your hands in the air, and the gesture only makes you feel smaller.

Mingi chuckles, no humor in the sound. “You always take things on by yourself, even before we started dating. Is it so terrible of me for wanting to help, just a little?” He practically pinches his index and thumb together to emphasize his point.

“They’re my burdens to bear,” you scream. “Is it so hard to get in your head? I’m not some princess in a tower you need to save.”

“Why do you always treat someone else’s help like it’s a grandiose gesture you should feel guilty for?” He steps closer, your chests barely a breath apart. “I help you because I want to, because you deserve it and because I love you. Why can’t you stop pushing me and others away who want to make things easier on you?”

The words get stuck in your mouth, no sounds coming out in a response that makes sense or can answer his questions properly. A tear escapes your eye, falling hot on your cheek. Mingi tries to wipe it away, but you whip your head out of his direction and rub your face with your palm.

San comes from the exit you both walked out of and looks on with concern. “You guys alright?”

You shake your head and walk past them both, your heart in knots too tough to untangle today.

You clip the buckle on your heels as you continue to hold your phone’s receiver to your ear, the sun setting as you make haste to end the call and head out the door. “Woo, for the last time, you should know where I’m going by now. I thought we were friends before I started dating one of your best friends.”

“You are, but you could be playing coy, I don’t know!” Wooyoung remarks, making you laugh. You haven’t seen the kid since Monday when you walked away from the show, not having time to say goodbye to him before you made your way home.

You always spend Thursday nights with your parents for dinner. Your immediate family decided long ago to make time out of all of your busy schedules for weekly briefings and small talk over home-cooked food. It was one of the few times you found peace in the hectic nature of everyday life.

“Trust me—and you can let our mutual friend know—just the same usual Thursday plans.” You hear a knock at the door and rush to get off the phone even faster, wondering who could be outside your home so close to the evening. “I gotta go, talk to you soon.”

You iron out the wrinkles of your dress before heading to your apartment door. The man on the other side steals your breath in his white button down and denim jeans combo. He completes the ensemble with his thick-framed glasses and his hair, tousled just a touch, exactly how you like it. His fashion choices on nights like this still stun you to no end, even if you’re surprised he’s here tonight at all.

“M-Mingi,” you say. “What are—“

“I wouldn’t miss family dinner, together or not.” He clears his throat and puts his hand out, clearly eager for you to take it. “If you’ll still have me there, I mean.”

You fight the smile tugging at your cheeks and instead take a deep breath and his palm in yours. Your fingers interlace, and it reminds you more of home than the entire 900-square foot apartment behind you. “Just because you made such an effort to look so nice. It’d be a waste, you know?”

Mingi smiles and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his other hand. He smiles to himself the entire time you lock your door and head down the stairwell, not letting go of your hand once.

You don’t say no when he offers to drive, or stop him from holding your door open until you get in, and he thinks that maybe you’re turning a corner after he slipped up. And you think you might just give into him for the sheer fact being in a car again with him, listening to his off-key riffs, reminds you of everything you’ve been missing, for better or worse.

“Honey! Mingi! Come in,” your mother beckons you at the front door. She welcomes you inside wearing her signature floral apron, though your father and brother do most of the cooking.

Neither you nor your mother expected Mingi to bring flowers to tonight’s dinner. You didn’t expect him to invite himself at all, but thinking about it, it would be weird for him not to attend when your family did not know you were on a relationship hiatus.

This Thursday holds no more significance than all the others, but it warms your heart to see your mother grab a vase from the living room to hold the batch of tulips Mingi brought.

“Sometimes I think my own husband forgets my favorite flowers. But not you, my sweet boy.” Your mother pinches Mingi’s cheek, and Mingi blushes a shade of plum at the physical touch.

“Speaking of him, does he need help in the back? I know the grill can be a pain for him and Eric to get going,” Mingi offers.

“That would be wonderful, Mingi, thank you.” You smile at Mingi as he leaves you two to walk towards the back porch. He greets your father with a handshake and your little brother with a manly hug, and any residual anger you felt over the past few days instantly dissipates.

He’s always been a caring person. You knew this the second he brought a spare pack of bandaids on your second date when you slipped and fell on your knee during your first. Sometimes, as you’ve grown to learn, he seems to have a hard time hearing when his help isn’t necessary. Or the exact help he envisions isn’t the help you desire.

“That boy is one in a million, baby.” Your mother says as you walk to the kitchen together. “I can’t picture someone better to take care of you.”

You sigh. “Who says I need to be taken care of, Mom?”

She shakes her head with a grin as she keeps stirring the soup on the stove. “Everyone needs someone, my love. Even when a person is adamant about fighting their own battles like you.”

“That’s not what I mean,” you huff, exasperated. “All I’m saying is that I can have someone by my side and not be wrong for wanting to do things on my own in my way, right?”

Her head continues to move back and forth, her ladle going in the same fashion. “And all I’ll say, baby, is that it’s important to let someone know those things. If you don’t tell someone what you’re looking for, they’ll make assumptions. And you know how we all feel about those.”

“They make an ass out of you and me,” Eric pipes up from behind you, making you flinch. You thwack him on the arm, and he rubs the spot with a pout. Your father and Mingi gather in the kitchen behind your brother, the simmering steaks on a large plate smelling delectable.

“Time to eat, everyone!”

Before you all can head to the table, Mingi pulls you in and whispers, “The right one is yours. Medium rare, how you like it.”

He leaves you standing alone as he sits next to your brother. Your heart resides in your throat the rest of the night, sitting beside Mingi and your mother and wondering if maybe a part of you hasn’t given credit to Mingi in the way he deserves. Maybe you both have been wrong in your own ways, and it’s still fixable.

Maybe this break is serving a purpose in a way you didn’t expect.

The drive back to your apartment is quiet, but it’s charged with tension from the way Mingi rubs patterns into the back of your hand with his thumb. Both of your palms rest over your thigh, the muscle on fire from how his large fingers encompass yours and hover over the fabric of your dress.

Now is not the time for sexual frustration. It’s time to talk and see if the break can be amended into some form of peace treaty.

He parks his car in the lot and looks over at you with a small grin, close-mouthed but earnest all the same. “Tonight was fun. Glad to hear Eric’s doing good in school.”

You smile back. “My parents were happy to see you. They thought with the comeback coming up you wouldn’t be able to make it tonight.”

“I wouldn’t miss it. I told you that.”

Your throat is in a mess of knots once again as you nod. You turn in your seat to face him head on, and Mingi mirrors your body posture. Removing his palm from your thigh, you hold it in both of your hands, finding some strength to let the words come out. “We need to talk.”

Mingi’s eyes go wide immediately, inching as close as he can to you despite the ridiculously large glove box in his way. “If this is the start of that conversation, please—“

“No, no! I’m sorry,” you say immediately. “I shouldn’t have started with that.”

His free hand goes over his chest, and the relief floods over his entire expression. “You really can scare the shit out of a guy, you know that right?”

“I said I’m sorry,” you respond with a teasing pout. “But, I think I’ve been terrible at communicating what I need from you and from this relationship.”

Mingi thinks the words over before he nods slowly. “Okay.”

You inhale again, taking in a deeper breath. “First, I apologize for not being transparent. I should’ve said that I’m not exactly the greatest at getting help, not just from you. And my expectations couldn’t have been met if I didn’t tell you what they were, and I’m sorry for that.”

Mingi nods with ease, almost like he’s shrugging it off entirely, like there was nothing to apologize for. 

You continue, your confidence in your speech building. “I love the big and little things you do for me, and I’ve always appreciated your willingness to be there no matter the time of day for those you care about. For my family, for the guys—even for a random person on the goddamn sidewalk.”

You feel tears pooling in your eyes. “But, I need you to listen when I tell you there are some things that you can’t help me with, or that I don’t need your help for. And taking my opinion and listening doesn’t mean you’re not doing your best as a boyfriend. The opposite, actually.”

You see words on Mingi’s tongue threatening to spill out, and you give him the clear to say them. “I guess I just don’t know how to show you I’m here for you otherwise.”

“You’ve always shown me that, Min,” you respond instantly, not wanting him to doubt himself or his capabilities as a partner. “All I want is for you to be by my side, even if I’m struggling with things, and if you can understand that I’ll ask for your help when I need it moving forward, I think we’ll be okay. Okay?” You kiss his palm in between your own hands, and you tuck it under your chin.

Mingi smiles and puts his other hand on your thigh, rubbing the skin through the material of your dress. “Does this mean that I have to go back to that store and get a refund for the makeup I bought?”

You laugh, the sound coated with happiness, and shake your head again. “No. Why let all that good eyeshadow go to waste, right?”

Mingi chuckles, full of vigor. “Right.” He leans across the box between you, your lips an inch away from his. “And does this mean I can kiss you now?”

You quirk an eyebrow and smirk. “If you know what’s good for you, Song Mingi.”

His lips press to yours, quick and hard, and you swear you hear the clack of your teeth against his the second they collide. You don’t care, though. The feelings that accompany the kiss are all-encompassing; the pain from being apart for days, the tension from the entire night between you like a knife ready to strike down, the love that’s always been there even when you both were apart.

“Fuck, I missed you so much,” Mingi confesses. His lips reattach to yours as he bunches up your dress with his hands, his fingers just barely ghosting over the hem of your panties. Your quickly dampening underwear meets the cool air in Mingi’s car, and you shudder.

“Min, the place for kissing and making up is not in your car. Take me to bed properly, please?” You beg and nibble at his bottom lip. The moan that leaves his mouth makes your heart sing and your pussy wetter than it was a moment before.

He nips your lips again before saying, “Anything you want, always.”

Mingi sprawls your body out on your shared bed gently. You can tell he’s worried the moment is a figment of his imagination, or you’ll change your mind in a second, wanting him to go back to waiting and wishing for you again.

But you dispel the doubts in his mind the second you say, “Mingi, please touch me.” He grins and pulls your dress down by its hemline, the strapless material easily removed from your body with his strength. 

He kisses your skin as if starved of your body for years instead of days, moving from your ankle to the juncture of your thigh and pelvis. You moan weakly, hips bucking into nothing but the cool air. “You’ve made me wait, princess. It’s only fair you have to wait a little bit too.”

His words ring hollow, though. The second your panties meet the same fate as your dress, he kisses your clit and folds with all the love and admiration he has in his body. He dives into your cunt with the same fervor he put into his kisses on the way there. His mouth goes at a solid and quick pace, his tongue slipping inside of you before circling around the sensitive nub between your legs and repeating in that fashion.

You clutch his hair with your hand. Mingi’s other hand presses down on your stomach so you can’t arch too hard off of the bed. “So eager and so wet, princess. Just like I like it,” he whispers hoarsely.

“Fuck, fuck, Mingi, please fuck me,” you whimper. “I want to come with you inside of me.”

Mingi shakes his head, his hair ruffling against your inner thighs. “I want one on my tongue, baby. Just one.”

He increases his tongue’s speed against your clit, flicking so fast you think you may die before you feel the effects of your impending orgasm. But, thankfully, you get to welcome the release in all of its glory. Your essence covers Mingi’s face as you ride out your high, letting your hips roll until you come down completely.

Mingi kisses you hard when he comes up from between your legs. You mewl at the taste of yourself on his tongue. He taps the side of your thigh with his fingers, and by now you know what he wants you to do.

You turn and raise your body up on all fours. You jut your ass out for him to admire in the moonlight's glow pervading your bedroom window. He chuckles, but it’s airless from his shock at the sight in front of him, one he thought for a second he would never see again. “Goddamn, I could look at you all day. You know that, right?”

You look over your shoulder and bite your lip, moving back to brush his reddened cock, making him groan. “Why look when you can touch?”

He slams inside of you in the next second, clit smacking against his balls from the sheer force and size of him going all the way inside of you without issue. You press your face into the bed underneath you, garbled moans filling the room because of your pleasure.

Mingi yanks you up by your hair, not slowing his pace. “I don’t think so, princess. I want everyone in this place to know how good you’re getting fucked, got it?”

He bends your neck at an absurd angle to kiss you again, his tongue and lingering traces of your essence filling your mouth as he drills his cock into your velvety walls. It’s indescribable how impeccable his sex drive is, tonight one of all the other nights he’s made you fall apart multiple times without a sign of stopping.

But seeing as you’ve been apart for the better half of a week, you think he may just fall apart as fast as you do on a normal day.

“Min, I’m close,” you warn, your body slowly weakening from staying in position after such merciless thrusts and the brutal force of his cock slamming in and out of you.

Mingi holds you up with one hand while the other snakes down to your clit with intense exuberance. “Me too, baby. Just hold on tight, okay?”

Suddenly, he’s going faster than he ever has before, your body merely a toy for him to emit dozens of thrusts into in such a brief time span. His speed is almost unmanageable, it creates blind spots in your vision. You come with a violent cry ripping from your throat, your body releasing onto his cock and on the sheets below you. You don’t stop coming until he slows his own pace and orgasms himself, the mess between you and on the bed a mixture of your releases.

Mingi exits you and moves the two of you to a spot on the bed not covered in the mess, but he can’t help but stare as his cum leaves your cunt in small droplets. He’s partly fascinated by the sight, but also relieved to have you back in his arms in the bed you’ve shared for months.

He rubs up and down your arms and kisses across your collarbone until he reaches your face, his eyes reflecting a pool of love and satiation. “Hey, beautiful. Are you feeling okay?”

You smile dumbly and give him a small nod. “Never better.”

He kisses your nose before he meets your lips again, this kiss softer than all the other ones you’ve received from him tonight. “I love you.”

You know he means it every time he says it. Yet, somehow, with a newfound understanding of your shared wants and needs, and a promise for the future to be better than the past, this time he says it feels sweeter than it ever has. And when you say you love him back, you mean it even more.

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @lovetaroandtaemin @xomakara @pars-ley @addictedtohobi

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𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫 𝑴𝒀 𝑶𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑲𝑺 𝒐𝒓 𝑱𝑶𝑰𝑵 𝑴𝒀 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑺 © 𝖠𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝖧𝖤𝖤𝖢𝖧𝖶𝖤; 𝖣𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖻𝗎𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍.

[mxlti-fand0m-imaginess]

Samantha // Sam Carpenter

request: none!

prompts: none!

summary: being with sam has brought you nothing but happiness, and these memories with her only prove how perfect the two of you are for each other.

warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, brief allusions to smut, language, mentions of roachie kirsch

word count: 1.9k

a/n: fem!reader, i was gonna make it gn!reader but the song this fic is based on is sapphic so i felt like i should keep it that way, no ghostface au

join my taglist! album masterlist!

I think I've been yours since 4th grade

We met in 5th, you corrected me

From my bed, and I said

Technically since 2nd but I reckon the time has just flown by and my

Memory's shit, so

You smiled to yourself as you gazed at your girlfriend, Sam, who was currently asleep beside you. Despite your protests, she had claimed that she wasn’t too tired to watch a movie like the two of you had been planning. And yet, not even half an hour in, she was fast asleep on the couch, her head resting on your shoulder as she curled up beside you. No matter how many times you looked at her, you could never get over how beautiful she was.

For as long as you could remember, Sam was always there. You had gone to elementary school together, and finally became friends during middle school. High school and college came and went, and the two of you continued to grow impossibly closer. Sometimes it was hard to tell where you ended and where she began. And as time went on, feelings began to change, and the friendship between the two of you started to become something more. 

Falling in love with someone that you had known for so long was indescribable. There was no awkward talking stage or embarrassing first dates. Everything just felt so natural. So right. Like she was the only person you would ever need, and she had already been there the whole time. You draped your arm over her shoulders and pulled her closer to you, taking the blanket that was lying on your lap and placing it over her.

You grabbed the remote and turned the movie off. You could always just finish it some other time. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, before resting your head on top of hers.

“Goodnight, my love.”

But all I ever remember is you

And all I ever say is "I miss you more"

You're everything that I ever knew

You're the only girl that I am for

“I’m the first girl you’ve ever been with, right? Is it any different from being with a guy?” you asked, tilting your head slightly as you looked over at Sam.

She nodded, a smile breaking out on her face. “It’s so different. And so much better. You actually know how to listen and you’re so much more affectionate.” The smile on her face turned into a teasing smirk. “Plus, you actually know how to make me cum.”

Your face heated up in a blush, her comment flustering you instantly. You grabbed a pillow from beside you on the couch, chucking it at her as an embarrassed laugh fell from your lips.

“Sam!” you scolded, giggles still spilling from your mouth in disbelief.

She shrugged before throwing the pillow right back at you. “What? It’s true! I’m pretty sure Richie didn’t even think the clit was real.”

You let out another snort of laughter. “God, I still can’t believe you ever even dated him. You can do so much better than that… thing.”

“I am doing better. I have you.”

Samantha, I'm in love with you

I'll do anything you ask me to

You're the reason that I dyed my hair blue

Samantha, I'm in love with you

And I'll sing it again and again

“Oh my god! What did you do to your hair?!” Sam asked, a disbelieving smile on her face as she struggled to hold back her laughter.

You had attempted to dye your hair blue to surprise her, since she had always been very fond of the color. You thought it might’ve made her happy, to have another one of her favorite things to associate with you. Unfortunately, you hadn’t been the best in picking the color. You were hoping for something more subtle, the kind of blue that looked black, with the colorful hue only visible in the light. What you ended up with was a bright and vibrant color, bordering on neon. You were upset, understandably so, and Sam’s joyful laughter at your predicament did nothing to ease your frustration.

 “It was supposed to be a surprise. You said that blue was your favorite color, so I thought I’d dye my hair blue. It wasn’t supposed to be this bright!” you huffed, leaning back against the bathroom counter as you pouted.

“You look like a smurf threw up on you!” 

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. “Ha ha. Very funny. Can you help me? There’s gotta be some way to fix this.”

She nodded, walking over to you. “Alright, let’s see what I can do. This color is probably not gonna come out, so we’re gonna have to dye it black.”

You frowned as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. “At least we can match.”

She smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Or, we could always just shave it off.”

The look on your face alone was enough to send Sam into another fit of laughter. You glared at her, trying to seem angry or at least even a little bit annoyed, but you couldn’t ever hold it together around her that long. Her smile was contagious and her laughter was infectious. Just being around her had a way of lifting your mood. But you wouldn’t want it any other way.

There aren't words to describe

The way I feel about your eyes

And everything I write sounds cliche, but

I can't help that I think about you every day

“Why’re you staring at me? Is there something on my face?” Sam asked, reaching up to her mouth to see if some of her lunch was still left on her skin.

You simply smiled and shook your head. “No, nothing’s there. You’re just so beautiful. How could I not stare at you?”

Though she tried to hide it, you could see the faint blush spreading on her cheeks and that flustered smile of hers that never failed to fill your insides with a swarm of butterflies. You reached out and took her hand in yours, intertwining your fingers as you smiled over at her. You pressed a kiss to the back of her hand, causing the faint blush on her cheeks to deepen ever so slightly, filling you with a sense of pride. 

“I love you. You know that, right?” you asked, your smile never once faltering. 

“Of course I do. You only tell me like every five seconds.” She smiled over at you. “Not that I mind it in the slightest.”

“I just still can’t believe that I’m with you. That we’re together. It feels like a dream. You’re just so perfect. Like every single thing I could’ve ever wanted in a partner, all rolled up into one person.”

She rolled her eyes, her smile never leaving her face. “Oh please. I am far from perfect. If anything, you’re the perfect one here. I mean you put up with all my shit. Just being able to do that is perfect enough.”

“I do not put up with you. I love everything about you and I love being with you. Despite what you may think about yourself, you are not difficult to be with. Richie just couldn’t handle all your perfectness and awesomemazingness.”

She raised an eyebrow at you. “That’s not a word”

You shrugged, smiling defiantly. “Well, it should be. Because it describes you perfectly.”

“Oh does it now?”

“It does.”

Before Sam could respond, you leaned in and pulled her into a kiss, silencing any other protests about to leave her lips. You knew she was perfect, and even if she didn’t agree with you, you could damn well at least stop her from voicing those thoughts. And you knew that one day, you would convince her.

And every night

And every morning

And afternoon

And all the time

Sam laughed in disbelief as she looked down at her phone, scrolling through all of the messages you had sent her in the past hour. 

“Baby, I told you I wasn't going to be gone long. I was just down the street getting groceries. Did you really need to text me that many times?”

Most people would be annoyed with your clinginess, but not Sam. She liked how clingy you were, how obsessed you were with her. It’s harder to doubt someone’s feelings for you when they never leave you alone long enough to get lost in spiraling thoughts. She had been gone for an hour to go get groceries, and you had texted her almost fifty times during your time apart.

“Yes. I really did need to. How else would you know about everything you missed while you were gone?”

She sighed in faux exasperation, her smile giving away her true feelings. “You sent me ‘bird in tree chirped’ like five times!”

“Six, actually. And I thought you should know, because that happened to be a very cute bird. I wouldn’t text you if I didn’t think it was important.”

She let out a huff of laughter as she walked over to you, pulling you into a hug and kissing the top of your head. You melted into the embrace, wrapping your arms around her waist and pulling her closer.

“You’re lucky you’re so adorable.”

“Oh, please. You love me and you know it.”

But all I ever remember is you

And all I ever say is "I miss you more"

You're everything that I ever knew

You're the only girl that I am for

“Can’t you just call in sick today?” you whined as you clutched onto Sam, preventing her from getting out of bed to get ready for work. 

“Baby, you know I can’t. We need the money. And since you decided you wanted to be the housewife, I’m the one who has to go to work. But if you want to swap, I’d be more than happy to,” she smiled, a teasing lilt to her voice.

You huffed, a slight pout forming on your face. “No…”

“Then you have to let me get up. I can’t exactly get ready for work if I’m still stuck in bed.”

“Do you have to get up right now? Can’t you wait just a little longer? Maybe spend an extra few minutes paying attention to your oh-so amazing girlfriend?” You looked at her pleadingly, using your best puppy dog eyes to persuade her.

“Y/n…” Sam started, only for all her rebuttals to wash away the second you started pressing gentle kisses to her neck.

“You know you want to…” you said, your hands slipping beneath her shirt.

“You know what? I think I have a flat tire. How unfortunate that I’m gonna be late to work since I had to get it fixed.”

You smiled triumphantly, rolling onto your back and pulling Sam on top of you. Even though she puts in effort to try to deny you, droning on and on about work and responsibilities, she can never say no to you. You had the ability to make her resolve crumble with just one look, and she couldn’t find it in her to deny you when all you ever really wanted was more time with her. And so, another morning was spent fooling around in bed before Sam rushed off to work, yet another excuse for her lateness at the ready. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Samantha, I'm in love with you

I'll do anything you ask me to

You're the reason that I dyed my hair blue

Samantha, I'm in love with you

And I'll sing it again and again

tags: @Hocksetterrs

if your name is crossed out, it means i can't tag you!

[seeingivy]

espresso

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my dream girl fic

previous part linked here

songs mentioned: espresso by sabrina carpenter

--

--

you don’t feel attached to every song that you write. and most of the time, there’s songs that you scrap for various reasons – the songs you write just to write something, ones that don’t fit on the record that you’re producing or the vibe you’re going for, or the ones that you lockbox into a vault, for your eyes and your eyes only. 

at certain times, it was to remind yourself what it feels like to write and flex the muscles associated with it in your brain. just a way to combat writer's block when it plagued you. at other times, the words were pouring out of you, so fast that you felt like your hands couldn’t even keep up with what was spinning through your mind. 

some songs were too personal. there was an air to them, something that was being said that you had to keep to yourself, keep buried in your chest because no one was entitled to those thoughts but you. 

other songs had no substance at all. filled with embellishment at the very least – just sweet singing and good production in the background. you couldn’t care less about them. 

they varied. existed in abundance. and when mimi found out about it, she made a simple proposition that you agreed to, after much discussion. 

when you signed on with studio eleven, you made negotiation deals for mechanical and performance royalties for songs that you weren’t too attached to. you gave free reign for other people to take your songs and perform them, change them up a little bit to fit their style, as long as you were still cited as the writer and got money for every time it was performed. 

you can still hear mimi’s words in your mind – if you’re doing the work, why not get paid for it? 

in the beginning, you felt possessive. that those were your words, and your words only, so why should someone else be entitled to sing them? but as time went on, you became more malleable to giving up control over it and sharing. soft encouraging words from mimi about money, getting on the good side of other creators, mixed in with every other reason that made you sign it all away. 

most of the time, it worked out fine. gave a few of the associated signed artists something to perform, to add in the middle of their record, and that put a little bit of money in your pocket. 

hell, sometimes you even got credited in award nominations for it. 

the current situation that you’re in though, seething over the fact that aimee will be performing this song with jake in two days, is the exact reason you didn’t want to sell your songs. 

they’d fall into the wrong hands. they’d be used against you. they wouldn’t be yours anymore, not in the ways that it mattered at least. 

the proposition meant that aimee lynch could buy one of your songs – one of the songs that you wrote about jake, with jake – and claim that she was the one who wrote it. that she was the one who wrote it with him. 

that the things you wanted to keep close to your chest would be for everyone to listen, interpret, and manipulate. other people could claim your feelings as their own, your thoughts, your words as something that they made out of thin air. something that they felt. 

that was the feeling that caused the most anger. the searing pain, that made you see blood red. having something stolen from you. again. 

“there has to be some rules about this type of thing. she can’t claim that it’s her intellectual property and say that she wrote it, can she?” eren asks. 

mimi shakes her head. after almost an hour and a half of questioning, from three very overbearing and well meaning friends, had fried her brain – you could tell that much.

you suppose that she should count herself lucky that megumi wasn’t able to attend due to his pr events, because without fail, he was always the worst of the bunch. and had a horrendous problem with mincing his words. 

“technically, they did credit y/n as one of the writers on the song if you look. i’m guessing that they changed a few lyrics here and there, since aimee and jake are listed as writers too.” mimi responds. 

“jake was an original writer on that song. we wrote it together.” you seethe. 

that’s the last time you share your songs with anyone. 

you can see historia and mikasa exchange a look with one another from the corner of your eye, something you guess is warranted by the vitriol laced in your voice. they were always wary when it came to these types of things, always a little nervous when it came to anger that you held in a reserve, that was almost never ending. 

they were shocked at how angry you could get. and while any rational part of your mind would be inclined to take a step back like they suggested, out of good faith of their concern, your anger always won out. 

most of the time, it felt like sheer spite was the only thing that kept you going. it was something that worked for you – so why would you do something else? 

“she’s allowed to change lyrics that y/n wrote?” mikasa asks. 

mimi shrugs. 

“it’s kind of murky waters when you take someone’s song as your own. they’re the ones who recorded and produced it, and since they properly credited as they were supposed to, so they can kind of do whatever they want.” mimi responds. 

eren groans, pinching the bridge of his nose, as he flops down on the couch next to you. 

“we can’t really police what they say. if she wants to say that she wrote the song with jake, there’s nothing that we can really say about that. she’s omitting information, for sure, but we…we can’t do anything about her lying.” mimi states, the tone in her voice final. 

“this wasn’t even one of the songs that she decided to sell. jake just handed it over to aimee because she asked, i’m assuming? they don’t have to ask for y/n’s permission?” historia asks. 

mimi pauses. 

“i’m assuming they got the same patent as the ones for the other songs, someone at the record label must have signed off on giving it up just because they assumed it was one of the scrapped songs. they couldn’t have taken it unless someone signed off on it here.” 

you can feel your eye twitch. 

“find whoever that is. who signed the song away.” you state. 

mimi shoots you one last apologetic smile as she leaves the room, pressing the phone to her ear as she slips through the door, and you sink down into the couch. knowing her, she was going to try her best to do damage control behind the scenes for whoever did sign your song away, just to save face and make sure that someone didn't lose their job.

her immediate retreat is one that sends historia and mikasa to their legs – their hands basically shoving eren to the side as the four of you squish onto the couch, their heads nestled against each of your shoulders. 

“what do you think happened? i mean…fully?” mikasa asks, the tone in her voice overexerted with an air of caution. 

you sigh. there was always more that met the eye with aimee lynch. things were always perfectly calculated, against your favor, and were never just from a sheer lack of dumb luck like she made it seem. 

you learned that the hard way. 

“if i’m guessing right, jake must have been really mad when i ended things with him. things were bad for a while and we basically fought the entire time at the end.” you state. 

“about?” mikasa asks. 

you shrug. 

“he’s really good friends with aimee or became really good friends with aimee towards the end of our relationship. seems she had some newfound interest in him. i…i had given him some idea of what she did and that it made me uncomfortable, but i guess she was pretty adamant and told him things on the side as well. he basically told me that he was allowed to be friends with whoever he wanted to be friends with and i couldn’t stop him.” you respond.  

“why he’d want to be friends with her is lost to me in the first place.” eren states. 

“either way, i’m assuming his ego is just hurt which is why he’s so keen on biting back right now. you know, with obsessed and everything. i’m sure he’s convinced that i loved him so much that i wouldn’t drag his name through the mud, even though he was the one who did it to me first.”

you pause. 

“it’s entirely intentional too. he knows that i wanted to release state of grace as one of the songs for the next album, him and aimee probably talked to someone here through her dad, and got the song first since i had already recorded the demo and given the lyrics.” you respond. 

“first things first, once mimi finds out whoever it was, they have to get fired.” historia responds. 

you nod thoughtfully.

“any ideas for a song?” mikasa asks. 

you shake your head. 

“i’m not sure if that’s the right move here. only because they both know me so well.” 

after almost six years of making music, there were certain fast facts and facets of the music industry that you learned very quickly. 

first and foremost – it was almost never about the music. not about the art. at least not for anyone else that was attached to the music besides the songwriters and the producers. 

the first priority is to get signed with a record label. the second priority is to make sure that you stay signed with your label – meaning you have to meet certain quotas, have your albums reach a certain standard of commercial success, and getting nominated for a few awards here and there. 

second – some music sells and some music doesn’t. if you find something that sells, you have to hold on to it and make sure that it doesn’t run off. even if that means being repetitive, even if that means creating songs that are similar – against your better creative instincts. 

there was one thing that you found out quickly. people loved love songs. but loved when you made angry, spiteful ballads aimed at people you were fighting with even more. 

and third – the image is everything. if you’re able to successfully market yourself – market the image and the persona – the fans will lead you to success. in your case, you had pinned the image down to a perfect craft. 

it was simple. people weren’t too fond of you. granted, that was a given – with so many people in the industry, there was bound to be some disagreements. ex-boyfriends who irritated you, talked about you in the press and sullied your good name. 

and your response was always the same. writing scathing songs about them, leaving hints and details in the lyrics and music videos so people would know that you were talking about them, so that it would give people something to talk about – and more importantly, a reason to listen. 

an image so perfectly curated that new releases almost promised attention, because people knew that you would be saying something in response to what had been floating around about you. 

it worked well in your favor most of the time. but you were fighting fire with fire on this one, because aimee lynch is surely the type to retaliate, someone well versed on your public image since she was the one who helped you curate it.

“i would obviously feel inclined to write a song about them, but i feel like they’re smarter than that. knowing them, they’ve probably stolen another song that they’re planning on using against me after the fact.” you mumble. 

there’s a dejected sigh from the group of them. 

“i can tell that she puts a lot of thought into the little cat and mouse game that the two of you play all the time.” mikasa states. 

“i fear she has nothing else to do besides play games with me. and it helps her image, which only gives her more reason to do it at this point. i know better than anyone that drama sells.” you respond. 

eren pushes up off the couch, pacing around the room and haphazardly messing with his air, as he thinks out loud.

you’re not sure why he does it, because every solution that he offers is some type suggestion involving a violent interaction where you shut her up for good. 

and while you would be inclined to take his advice, you avoid it against your better judgment. even your anger had its limits.

“can’t you steal her song back or something? talk to someone at dancing lady and do it right back?” eren asks. 

“as if they would give up a song of hers so freely. i’m sure they’d all go running and tell her dad right away.” you murmur. 

“you just have to hit her where it hurts, you know? like she’s clearly trying to make a point by taking something of yours, so you just have to do it back.” historia states. 

you scoff. 

“cool. let me just go steal her generational multi-million music empire while i’m at it.” you state. 

historia rolls her eyes. 

“you know i didn’t mean it like that. but you know, you just have to find some way to make her look like an idiot. someone who isn’t scared of her and isn’t particularly fond of her either, you know?” historia asks. 

that’s when the thought comes back to your head. the exact words that had been said to you only a day prior, that were entirely lost to you in the mix of the aimee mess. 

“trust me, the thing that pissed her off the most about me is that i didn’t take her side and took yours instead, y/n. you just have to find someone that will rally on your side that would drop her like that.” historia finishes, snapping her fingers in the air for effect. 

she doesn't even finish her sentence before you're running out the door to the closest studio.  

--

--

“you’re so skilled with balls.” 

sukuna rolls his eyes, only to turn to his left and find what might be his most agitating co-star, satoru gojo. 

“you have to know you sound like an idiot when you say that.” sukuna states. 

satoru frowns. 

“what did i say wrong?” he asks, the hint of a gleaming smile in his eye. 

“you should invest in a tape recorder. listen to the tape back at the end of the day and do some reflection.” sukuna states, shoving the bottle of gatorade against his chest. 

sukuna would rather die than tell satoru that he was his personal favorite to film scenes and do press with. there’s a plethora of things, irritatingly enough, that make sukuna so fond of satoru. 

the fact that he was so skilled at interviews, that without asking, he spoke well of sukuna despite the backlash that he was currently receiving, that he tried to support him in anyway that he could.

even if sukuna made missteps, he would never be one to say anything about it. only the one to pick him up and bring him back. 

“did you ever think about going pro? you’re kind of good at this shit.” satoru states. 

“i’m not that good. you guys are all just terrible.” sukuna responds. 

that much was obvious from how badly the other team was losing. and the fact that half of them had fell face first onto the court already. 

in their last few days of press, the marketing team for the show decided that the select members of cast were going to be participating in a charity all-stars basketball game. it was one of the most anticipated events of the year, with celebrities being on both teams, and special surprise performances for the halftime show. 

the combined sales of the tickets, signed jerseys, and meet and greets raised tens of thousands of dollars, and all in all, it was one of the better events that sukuna found himself being forced to attend. he liked meeting the kids, getting to sign jerseys for people who had chosen to buy his, and getting to take pictures with fans. 

he liked the company at the event a little less. considerably less. sukuna looks over to the other side of the court and catches sight of kim and aimee on the other side of the court, posing for the camera by pressing a kiss to each other’s cheeks, before leaning back in their chair, entirely bored.

the glee filled expressions were dropped the second the camera man walked away, something he had seen more than a hundred times before. 

satoru follows sukuna’s line of vision, before smacking him on the back. 

“did you talk to them?” satoru asks. 

sukuna shakes his head. 

“shoyo would like…skin me alive. and i’d rather keep it lowkey for today since the premiere is tomorrow.” sukuna responds. 

satoru nods, almost like he’s mulling the thought over. sukuna finds himself distracted all together, only because it’s the first time that sukuna’s able to ogle this jake character in the real light. 

he finds it odd that someone as accomplished and skilled as you would ever consider dating him in the first place. he’s not entirely sure what you saw in him.

“satoru?” 

“yeah?” 

“what do you know about that guy?” sukuna asks, pointing over to where he’s seated on the bench, using a towel to wipe the sweat from his brow. 

“who? oikawa?” satoru asks. 

sukuna shakes his head. 

“next to him.” sukuna states. 

“jake?” satoru asks. 

sukuna nods. 

“just that he’s full of shit.” satoru states. 

“well i could have parsed that much out myself, dumbass.” sukuna responds, shoving him in the side. 

the lights in the stadium immediately dim, pink lights focused on the center of the court, and fog machines encasing the entire floor in a translucent sheen. there’s a booming voice that comes out of the speakers, that nearly makes sukuna jump out of his seat from being startled. 

“ladies and gentleman, please welcome our very last performer, our very special half-time show guest, y/n l/n.” 

sukuna nearly jolts up in his chair as the lights flash in the center of the court – to the sight of you wearing a light pink crew neck and a white tennis skirt – with a light pink ribbon tangled into your hair. 

sukuna grabs satoru by the collar, all but pulling up to stand close to him, so he can whisper in his ear. 

“was she always on the setlist?” sukuna asks. 

“don’t think so. i would have remembered that.” satoru mumbles back. 

Now he's thinkin' 'bout me every night, oh Is it that sweet? I guess so Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso

Move it up, down, left, right, oh Switch it up like Nintendo Say you can't sleep, baby, I know That's that me, espresso 

sukuna supposes that it should be a bad sign that this is the second time in a few days that he finds himself being mesmerized by your presence.

and he figures that it’s a good sign that the two of you have ended up in the same room, at the same time – so he can make his case again. he could mastermind something if he thought about it hard enough. 

“dude. you’re like fucking drooling.” satoru  whispers. 

“shut the fuck up.” sukuna responds, shoving him to the side as he leans forward, trying to glean a closer look. 

past his line of vision, sukuna can spot three very irritated faces. jake, kim, and aimee – matching scrunched up irritation on their faces, each of them typing very fast on his phone. he knew enough about you to know what you were doing here – trying to spite them right to their faces. 

Too bad your ex don't do it for ya Walked in and dream came trued it for ya Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya I know I Mountain Dew it for ya That morning coffee, brewed it for ya One touch and I brand newed it for ya 

sukuna watches as you turn around, obscuring his sight of the three of them, and look right at him. sukuna can’t help but do it again, absentmindedly lift his hand to wave at you just like he did a few days prior – at the very least, just to get confirmation that you really are looking at him – just to get exactly what he wants. 

you wink back, sparing a laugh into the microphone as you stop singing and throw the sparkly microphone in your hand to one of your backup dancers. 

sukuna can feel his heart pounding in his chest – no, he can feel it drop to his stomach – as he watches you pull the pink crewneck over your head, only to reveal that you’re wearing his jersey – the jersey with his last name embossed on the back – underneath. 

it’s one of the most overwhelming feelings he’s had, a wholehearted and blissful exhilaration that pounds in his chest, coupled with the fact that there’s a resounding sound of cheers that erupt after the fact are music to his fucking ears. 

I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer Oh, he looks so cute wrapped around my finger My twisted humor, make him laugh so often My honey bee, come and get this pollen

Too bad your ex don't do it for ya Walked in and dream came trued it for ya Soft skin and I perfumed it for ya I know I Mountain Dew it for ya That morning coffee, brewed it for ya One touch and I brand newed it for ya

“you’re such a dick. you weren’t going to tell us all that you guys were dating?” satoru asks. 

sukuna swallows hard.

did this mean that the two of you were dating? 

“hey, earth to fucking dumbass. are you so mesmerized that you can’t form a sentence?” suguru  asks, joining him at his side, the tone in his voice teasing as sukuna shakes his head. 

sukuna can’t even muster an irritated look to give back to satoru. or a retort back to suguru. only because he’s too elated, too excited that you’ve agreed with his plan – if that’s what this meant. 

“who fucking wouldn’t be mesmerized by that?” sukuna mutters. 

“that’s real cute, dude. the espresso thing.” suguru states. 

“what espresso thing?” sukuna asks. 

“you know. because you own the coffee shop and shit? isn’t that what she means?” suguru asks. 

of course that’s what you meant. 

if there was one thing he learned from the interviews and songs that he listened to, it was that you didn’t do things haphazardly. that every move that you made was intentional, because you knew people would connect the dots.

meaning, that at the very least, you were acting in his favor right now. and had agreed to be his girlfriend. 

sukuna can feel his heart pounding as you give one last wave to the cheering crowds, yanking your ear pieces out and letting them hang around your shoulders as you walk up to him. the sweet grin that you give him is one that sukuna can’t help but return. 

he’s so happy he might just kiss you on the spot right now. 

you place your hands behind your back as you give sukuna a sweet smile. only to turn immediately to his left and look at satoru. he can't help but feel dejected.

“hi.” you state. 

he watches as satoru spits the gatorade back into the bottle, before standing up and running his hands through his hair. sukuna narrows his eyes at satoru and prays to god that this isn’t the time that he chooses to be an idiot. 

“hi?” 

you extend your hand out.

“i’m y/n.” 

there’s a sudden irritation in sukuna’s chest that suddenly festers when satoru lifts your knuckles to his lips and presses a kiss against your hand. 

“satoru. satoru gojo.” he responds. 

you give him a smile. 

“cute.” 

you try not to relish in the way that sukuna clicks his tongue in his cheek, trying his best to hide his frustration, as you look up at satoru. 

“to be honest, i kind of came here with an ulterior motive.” you state. 

“my favorite kind of motive.” satoru responds. 

you walk over to satoru’s side, linking your hand in with his as you stand in between him and sukuna and point to the other side of the court. 

“you see that empty black seat right there?” 

“next to aimee lynch?” 

“that’s my seat.” 

satoru looks down at you, as he leans forward.

“we can’t have you sitting there.” he whispers. 

“only if you insist.” you offer. 

satoru puts his bottle down and you watch as he retreats to the other side to retrieve the chair, as you turn over to sukuna and give him a bright grin. you can tell that sukuna’s making his best efforts to glare at you, but the smile on his face is deceiving him. 

“hi lavagirl.” you state. 

sukuna grins in response. 

“her hair is a little more neon than mine, but it’s always a pleasure, sharkboy.” sukuna responds. 

you give him a smile, noting the flashing cameras at your side, as you bring your hands forward, holding the sharpie up in between the two of you. 

“what’s this?” sukuna asks. 

“i got one of the last jerseys. it wasn’t signed.” you ask. 

sukuna feigns shock, crouching down so that the two of you could be eye to eye. it’s the first time that you think about how much taller he is than you. 

“my poor baby. we can’t have that, now can we?” sukuna jests. 

you shake your head as sukuna smiles, taking the pen from your fingers, before signaling for you to turn around with his pointer finger. 

and it makes you shiver as he places one of his hands on your shoulder, taking the time to move the hair to the side of your shoulder before scribbling on your back. and that burning warmth that pools in your stomach gets even worse as his breath tickles your neck, before he leans over and presses a kiss to the nape of your neck. 

“one thing.” he whispers. 

you swallow hard, the whisper in his voice sending a shiver down your spine. 

“what’s that?” 

you watch as satoru walks up, placing the chair right next to his, as you and sukuna shoot him a smile. 

“try to rile me up and it’ll be more than that next time.”

you turn around, rolling your eyes at him, as you stand on the tips of your toes, leaning against his shoulder as you press a lingering kiss to his cheek. you can feel people lifting their phones to take a picture from your peripheral vision, as you pull back. 

satoru returns with the chair and doesn’t return alone, because aimee and jake are right behind him, hands balled into fists at their side as they walk right up to the two of you. sukuna seems to get the hint at the same time as you do, as he wraps his hand around your waist, pulling you closer as they approach. 

“y/n. sukuna.” aimee states, acknowledging your presence as she crosses her hands over her chest. 

“what can i do for you, satan?” sukuna asks. 

“what the hell is this?” aimee asks. 

sukuna looks down at you, offering you a confused look, before looking back at her. 

“me congratulating my girlfriend after her performance? what the fuck does it look like?” sukuna asks. 

girlfriend. you can tell that the word doesn’t roll over well, with either of them. but it sends the blood rushing right to your head, the warmth blooming in your cheeks.

“girlfriend? you’ve got to be fucking kidding.” aimee scoffs. 

“do i look like i’m kidding to you?” sukuna deadpans. 

“this is how you repay me after everything i did for you?” aimee asks. 

sukuna gives her a confused look. 

“what the hell did you do for me? besides give me a herpes scare?” 

you laugh into your hand, particularly at the fact that jake’s eyes go wide at his words. 

“i’d get checked if i were you dude. you never know.” sukuna adds, giving jake a smile. 

aimee turns over to you, pointing an accusatory finger your way, as she gives you a cold glare, a glare that you’ve seen hundreds of time, one that you used to cower to at one point. 

“you better watch yourself.” 

“she’s fine where she is. i’d suggest you fuck off while you’re ahead and quit embarrassing yourself the way you are.” sukuna responds. 

aimee rolls her eyes. 

“i hope that you know that i cheated on you with jake the entire time that we were together. while he was dating y/n.” aimee responds. 

sukuna laughs. 

“and i hope you know that i was never really into you in the first place. why would i be when she’s around?” sukuna responds back. 

you’re not sure if sukuna knows what he’s done. if he intentionally rubbed salt into the wound, into the exact wound that’s caused you so much pain at aimee's hands, but you can’t help but linger on it.

"don't forget that i was the one who broke up with you. not the other way around." sukuna states.

you ignore it. only because the pouty face that she makes as she retreats is one that fills you with so much joy, that has sukuna smiling down at you like he's the sun.

“do you want me to beat him up for you?” sukuna asks. 

“who, jake? he didn’t even say anything.” you respond. 

sukuna squints his eyes at you. 

“she just mentioned that he was cheating on you. and i’m figuring it’s with the last person that you would have wanted it to be.” 

“i mean. yeah.” you respond. “i’ll repeat. do you want me to beat him up?” sukuna asks. 

you shrug. 

“eh. not worth the trouble. sure his ego is bruised enough as it is.” 

sukuna narrows his eyes at you again, the whistle of the referee sending him back to the court as he presses one last kiss to your knuckles and you take a seat on the chair on the side of the court that satoru pulled up for you.

you aimlessly scroll through the texts on your phone. 

[mika]: WTF WERE YOU GUYS TALKING ABOUT 

[mika]: BRO SHE LOOKED SO PISSED

[hisu]: you’re so right he IS KIND OF CUTE

[hisu]: also song was TEWWW GOOD. you’re so beautiful i love you so much don’t ever die.

[eren]: I don’t see it. 

[mika]: shut up eren 

[megs]: Are you dating, Sukuna?

[megs]: I didn't even realized that you guys knew each other.

you look up from your phone to focus back on the game, only to find you’ve started paying attention at an opportune time. because you swear sukuna sticks his leg out to trip jake, sending him falling right to his face right as he runs past.

your suspicions are confirmed when sukuna gets flagged for it. you can tell that he doesn't seem to care too much, only because the smile on his face betrays him.

--

--

next part here

an: two dream girl chapters oopsie

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @gojoswifeyyys-world @cutiejg @chilichopsticks @timmytimmytuckyy @dreamxiing @mamamamamarga @skunabby @meisque @hoseokslefteyebrow @thepurpleempath @shrimphutao4ever @monic19 @najaemism @haitanibros0007 @catobsessedlady @luvs4kim @ri-sa20 @thejujvtsupost @invisible-mori @satoruslpipbalm @kyo-kyo1 @telepathicheartss @huhsthccvjh @sxnkuna @w31rdg1rl @lilalia3945 @multiplefandomthings @shotovhs @voids-universe @timetobegone @deeeeexx @livelovelaughisagiyochi @pelicanpizza @cowgirlikets @jeon-blue @phantomasmaniac @yoontaedotin @cowgirlikets @estrella-novella @theauthorunicorn @catastayy @ryumurin @kindadolly @th0tformikasa @r0ckst4rjk @you-always-made-me-blush @leave-rae-alone @lemonnotade @firelordazulaaaa @stuffeddeer

[jeongsoob]

remember that ᯓ 𝚜𝚖𝚐

SFW version of my fic posted on @heechwe .ᐟ

୨୧ pairing: song mingi x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 4k ୨୧ genre: angst, slight fluff ୨୧ tags: exes(ish) au, "we're on a break" au, soft pining, miscommunication ୨୧ synopsis: A break is supposed to give you time to understand what you do and don't want. But what if Mingi has to come with everything that frustrates you about him, no exceptions? Can you make it work, or will you both succumb to the pressure of love not being enough? ⟢ AUTHOR'S NOTE: Beta'ed by my babes Booki @kwanisms, Tiya @gyubakeries, and Ally @lovetaroandtaemin, I love you all so much. Also song title inspiration from LANY!

There are many valid pieces of evidence to support the argument that breaks never work. Friends, family, and perfect strangers remind you, solicited or not, why minor blips of time meant to think things through are simply an excuse, leading to the demise of a relationship.

“Don’t be chickenshit,” your best friend Karina remarked when you told her you were officially taking some time apart from Mingi. He would stay back at the dorms while you both took the next two weeks to think about your future. He didn’t want to, but he had to respect your wishes if he wanted any chance to mend the fences that were broken. “You know what you want to do, so do it. Don’t hide behind a ‘break.’”

You weren’t hiding, not in the slightest. If anything, the past few days alone have given you time to breathe. To reflect on the things that have and haven’t been working in your relationship for the last year.

You work in the same industry, and yet you have kept the entirety of your coupled status under wraps from everyone, save for your intimate group of loved ones. It isn’t hard to hide when you work on almost ten guys’ hair and makeup, but it’s all too easy to let feelings impede upon your professionalism.

Mingi’s always been willing to give you everything, but he doesn’t always see the entire picture of your needs. Sometimes, you don't need him to rescue you, and his eagerness borders the line of smothering too much for your comfort.

And yet, running through the pros and cons doesn’t make you miss him any less.

You ache waking up alone, not feeling the rise and fall of his chest under your head or hearing the sounds of his gargantuan feet pattering around your apartment. It became his apartment too by association after the fifth month of dating, his belongings sitting in every nook and cranny of what used to be your solitary space. Now, without him, it feels too hollow, too reminiscent of what it was like before he came into your life.

Even drives without him are terrible, the usual cacophony of traffic more bearable when he’s by your side, singing along off-key to the music on the radio or to his playlists when he uses your car’s bluetooth.

His absence is everywhere, and where there’s freedom sits all the despair attached to his missing presence.

“It hurts!”

“It’s not gonna hurt if you just listen to me.” You try to move closer to Hongjoong’s eye with the pencil in your hand, but he whips his head away again before you can begin on his waterline. “I told you to look up and away from me. You’ll barely feel it!”

“That’s a lie and you know it.” Hongjoong pouts in the makeup chair, and you stifle a giggle that bubbles in your throat. Watching so many impeccable performers be terrified of makeup applicators is probably one highlight of your career so far, especially guys as intimidating to look at as the one in front of you.

Suddenly, you feel him enter the room. The instinctual pull between you and Mingi goes beyond logical bounds, the tether made of only the metaphysical. It reminds you, every time he walks into the same space you’re in, how your body wants to be nowhere but next to his. You hate it more now than you ever have before.

“Am I going next when he’s finished?” Mingi cuts through the sudden silence to ask, his timbre a tad hollow but somehow still hopeful. You haven’t spoken for three days. This past weekend is the longest you’ve ever gone without communicating with each other. You can tell just from the sound of his voice it’s taken a toll on him.

You don’t turn to face him directly, finding some confidence from not having to look at the face you love so much head-on. “Seonghwa is, but he’s off getting his shirt hemmed, I think.”

“Just be patient, man.” Hongjoong winks at his younger friend. You thwack Hongjoong on the cheek with your eyeshadow brush, making the humored expression on his face dissipate.

“Did I say you have to talk when you’re getting your face done?” Hongjoong shakes his head with terrified eyes. “Exactly.”

You go back to your kit, but you feel despondence creep up your neck at the small quantity of black and neutral eyeshadow you have left. “Fuck it, we’ll just have to make do with the eyeliner right now.”

“Can’t you grab some from Mina’s kit? She probably won’t mind.”

You shake your head and go back to the pencil you dropped on the vanity when Mingi walked in. “I’ll just grab some more from the store later.”

“I can pick up some now if you need me to.” Mingi pipes up again, more hope seeping through his words. Sometimes, his overwhelmingly helpful nature makes you think he'd be reincarnated as a big puppy in the next life.

You finally face him with a soft smile, and you see the corners of his eyes crinkle up at your expression. “It’s okay, Min, really. Nothing I can’t handle.”

This is exactly why you needed space from Mingi. Staring into his big, brown eyes that make your body even a fraction weaker than before is why you can’t think through things properly around him. He takes all the logic and reason out of you, leaving you only to listen to the workings of your heart. And such an effect makes it simple to forget the myriad of minor problems that became so big you could not suppress them any more.

As he smiles at you, you repeat the words in your head like a mantra: he doesn’t listen, he’s too reckless, he acts on impulse half the time…

Seonghwa walks in and exclaims, “Okay, I think the shirt fits finally!” He looks between you and Mingi and then stares at Hongjoong with a curious fluff of his eyebrows. “What’s up with them?” He mouths to his friend.

Hongjoong can only shrug, the expression basically stating “Who knows anymore man?” without verbal support.

The longer you lock eyes with Mingi, the other men in the room long forgotten, you wonder if all you’re doing during this break is delaying the inevitable.

You took copious snapshots of the boys’ last looks before they had to practice on the stage. The sweat would ruin what you worked on for hours, so it was crucial to catalog it for your portfolio before that could happen.

Now, you watch them work through the three songs’ choreography with ease. Mingi takes center stage multiple times, and you smile to yourself at how ridiculous he acted an hour prior when he was in your chair, so busy complimenting you that you could barely get through doing his makeup.

“You look really pretty today,” he says as you dab the bridge of his nose with liquid highlighter. “I mean, you always do, but I haven’t seen you in a few days, so…”

You smirk and put the tub back in your makeup kit. “Making up for lost time, Min?”

Mingi blushes, a shade so pink you think you can skip putting that component of his makeup on altogether. “Just stating the obvious.”

“You don’t know,” you say, “I may have looked like shit in my sweatpants and ratty t-shirts all weekend.”

“Wanna know a secret?” You humor him, moving closer until his lips brush the shell of your ear, making you shudder. “That’s when you look the most beautiful to me.”

You retreat with trembling hands and a breathless laugh. “Are you gonna keep spitting game or can I finish your eyes now?”

Mingi smirks and snaps his eyes shut, pressing his face as close as he can to yours once again. He whispers with such a quiet but sultry tone, you think you may risk it all and kiss him once to get it out of your system. “Do whatever you want with me.”

And here you are, back in his orbit like he’s the sun and you’re a planet, willing to spin around him forever. A few weeks ago, you didn’t mind doing so until it made you dizzy, but you don’t know now if you miss depending so much on him. His “I got this, babe” one minute and “I can handle it” the next slowly made you realize he either didn’t trust you to work through anything without his help or he was so willing he couldn’t see how it came across. 

Bringing it to his attention didn’t make him any wiser to the problem, his response defensive rather than introspective. He argued it was in any boyfriend’s nature to want to do everything for their girlfriend. “Don’t you do the same for me? What’s the difference?” He asked in the fight's haste that led to your desire to take a breather from each other.

Flitting the memories away, you focus on Mingi’s undeniably enchanting dancing and rapping. It’s what reminds you why you fell for him in the first place, both his talent and work ethic, which gave way to everything else that turned you into putty for him. 

Before the group can finish the last song, a courier taps on your shoulder. “For you, miss.” He holds out a bag from the makeup store downtown, the contents inside being all that is low in your kit.

“I didn’t order anything,” you respond, fighting the only logical answer and culprit of the situation. The kid shrugs and makes his way out of the building, and you turn back to Mingi, the giant lost in his choreography. You feel your eyes light with fire rather than fuzziness, your desires and impulses from before long gone.

When he drops from the stage and makes it to the back, you slam the bag into his chest before walking away. “Wait! You said you needed this stuff!” Mingi trails behind quickly, his long legs catching up to you in seconds.

You turn when you’re alone in the hallway, your fury unleashed. “I said I could do it after work, and you went over my head again to do something I deliberately said you didn’t have to do!” Your bottom lip trembles. “Do you not care about listening to me at all?”

“What? No!” He shakes his head, his own face becoming a mask of confused anger. “I just wanted to help. And it’s just twenty bucks of makeup. Why is this such an issue right now?”

“Because I didn’t ask for your help!” You throw your hands in the air, and the gesture only makes you feel smaller.

Mingi chuckles, no humor in the sound. “You always take things on by yourself, even before we started dating. Is it so terrible of me for wanting to help, just a little?” He practically pinches his index and thumb together to emphasize his point.

“They’re my burdens to bear,” you scream. “Is it so hard to get in your head? I’m not some princess in a tower you need to save.”

“Why do you always treat someone else’s help like it’s a grandiose gesture you should feel guilty for?” He steps closer, your chests barely a breath apart. “I help you because I want to, because you deserve it and because I love you. Why can’t you stop pushing me and others away who want to make things easier on you?”

The words get stuck in your mouth, no sounds coming out in a response that makes sense or can answer his questions properly. A tear escapes your eye, falling hot on your cheek. Mingi tries to wipe it away, but you whip your head out of his direction and rub your face with your palm.

San comes from the exit you both walked out of and looks on with concern. “You guys alright?”

You shake your head and walk past them both, your heart in knots too tough to untangle today.

You clip the buckle on your heels as you continue to hold your phone’s receiver to your ear, the sun setting as you make haste to end the call and head out the door. “Woo, for the last time, you should know where I’m going by now. I thought we were friends before I started dating one of your best friends.”

“You are, but you could be playing coy, I don’t know!” Wooyoung remarks, making you laugh. You haven’t seen the kid since Monday when you walked away from the show, not having time to say goodbye to him before you made your way home.

You always spend Thursday nights with your parents for dinner. Your immediate family decided long ago to make time out of all of your busy schedules for weekly briefings and small talk over home-cooked food. It was one of the few times you found peace in the hectic nature of everyday life.

“Trust me—and you can let our mutual friend know—just the same usual Thursday plans.” You hear a knock at the door and rush to get off the phone even faster, wondering who could be outside your home so close to the evening. “I gotta go, talk to you soon.”

You iron out the wrinkles of your dress before heading to your apartment door. The man on the other side steals your breath in his white button down and denim jeans combo. He completes the ensemble with his thick-framed glasses and his hair, tousled just a touch, exactly how you like it. His fashion choices on nights like this still stun you to no end, even if you’re surprised he’s here tonight at all.

“M-Mingi,” you say. “What are—“

“I wouldn’t miss family dinner, together or not.” He clears his throat and puts his hand out, clearly eager for you to take it. “If you’ll still have me there, I mean.”

You fight the smile tugging at your cheeks and instead take a deep breath and his palm in yours. Your fingers interlace, and it reminds you more of home than the entire 900-square foot apartment behind you. “Just because you made such an effort to look so nice. It’d be a waste, you know?”

Mingi smiles and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his other hand. He smiles to himself the entire time you lock your door and head down the stairwell, not letting go of your hand once.

You don’t say no when he offers to drive, or stop him from holding your door open until you get in, and he thinks that maybe you’re turning a corner after he slipped up. And you think you might just give into him for the sheer fact being in a car again with him, listening to his off-key riffs, reminds you of everything you’ve been missing, for better or worse.

“Honey! Mingi! Come in,” your mother beckons you at the front door. She welcomes you inside wearing her signature floral apron, though your father and brother do most of the cooking.

Neither you nor your mother expected Mingi to bring flowers to tonight’s dinner. You didn’t expect him to invite himself at all, but thinking about it, it would be weird for him not to attend when your family did not know you were on a relationship hiatus.

This Thursday holds no more significance than all the others, but it warms your heart to see your mother grab a vase from the living room to hold the batch of tulips Mingi brought.

“Sometimes I think my own husband forgets my favorite flowers. But not you, my sweet boy.” Your mother pinches Mingi’s cheek, and Mingi blushes a shade of plum at the physical touch.

“Speaking of him, does he need help in the back? I know the grill can be a pain for him and Eric to get going,” Mingi offers.

“That would be wonderful, Mingi, thank you.” You smile at Mingi as he leaves you two to walk towards the back porch. He greets your father with a handshake and your little brother with a manly hug, and any residual anger you felt over the past few days instantly dissipates.

He’s always been a caring person. You knew this the second he brought a spare pack of bandaids on your second date when you slipped and fell on your knee during your first. Sometimes, as you’ve grown to learn, he seems to have a hard time hearing when his help isn’t necessary. Or the exact help he envisions isn’t the help you desire.

“That boy is one in a million, baby.” Your mother says as you walk to the kitchen together. “I can’t picture someone better to take care of you.”

You sigh. “Who says I need to be taken care of, Mom?”

She shakes her head with a grin as she keeps stirring the soup on the stove. “Everyone needs someone, my love. Even when a person is adamant about fighting their own battles like you.”

“That’s not what I mean,” you huff, exasperated. “All I’m saying is that I can have someone by my side and not be wrong for wanting to do things on my own in my way, right?”

Her head continues to move back and forth, her ladle going in the same fashion. “And all I’ll say, baby, is that it’s important to let someone know those things. If you don’t tell someone what you’re looking for, they’ll make assumptions. And you know how we all feel about those.”

“They make an ass out of you and me,” Eric pipes up from behind you, making you flinch. You thwack him on the arm, and he rubs the spot with a pout. Your father and Mingi gather in the kitchen behind your brother, the simmering steaks on a large plate smelling delectable.

“Time to eat, everyone!”

Before you all can head to the table, Mingi pulls you in and whispers, “The right one is yours. Medium rare, how you like it.”

He leaves you standing alone as he sits next to your brother. Your heart resides in your throat the rest of the night, sitting beside Mingi and your mother and wondering if maybe a part of you hasn’t given credit to Mingi in the way he deserves. Maybe you both have been wrong in your own ways, and it’s still fixable.

Maybe this break is serving a purpose in a way you didn’t expect.

The drive back to your apartment is quiet, but it’s charged with tension from the way Mingi rubs patterns into the back of your hand with his thumb. Both of your palms rest over your thigh, the muscle on fire from how his large fingers encompass yours and hover over the fabric of your dress.

Now is not the time for sexual frustration. It’s time to talk and see if the break can be amended into some form of peace treaty.

He parks his car in the lot and looks over at you with a small grin, close-mouthed but earnest all the same. “Tonight was fun. Glad to hear Eric’s doing good in school.”

You smile back. “My parents were happy to see you. They thought with the comeback coming up you wouldn’t be able to make it tonight.”

“I wouldn’t miss it. I told you that.”

Your throat is in a mess of knots once again as you nod. You turn in your seat to face him head on, and Mingi mirrors your body posture. Removing his palm from your thigh, you hold it in both of your hands, finding some strength to let the words come out. “We need to talk.”

Mingi’s eyes go wide immediately, inching as close as he can to you despite the ridiculously large glove box in his way. “If this is the start of that conversation, please—“

“No, no! I’m sorry,” you say immediately. “I shouldn’t have started with that.”

His free hand goes over his chest, and the relief floods over his entire expression. “You really can scare the shit out of a guy, you know that right?”

“I said I’m sorry,” you respond with a teasing pout. “But, I think I’ve been terrible at communicating what I need from you and from this relationship.”

Mingi thinks the words over before he nods slowly. “Okay.”

You inhale again, taking in a deeper breath. “First, I apologize for not being transparent. I should’ve said that I’m not exactly the greatest at getting help, not just from you. And my expectations couldn’t have been met if I didn’t tell you what they were, and I’m sorry for that.”

Mingi nods with ease, almost like he’s shrugging it off entirely, like there was nothing to apologize for. 

You continue, your confidence in your speech building. “I love the big and little things you do for me, and I’ve always appreciated your willingness to be there no matter the time of day for those you care about. For my family, for the guys—even for a random person on the goddamn sidewalk.”

You feel tears pooling in your eyes. “But, I need you to listen when I tell you there are some things that you can’t help me with, or that I don’t need your help for. And taking my opinion and listening doesn’t mean you’re not doing your best as a boyfriend. The opposite, actually.”

You see words on Mingi’s tongue threatening to spill out, and you give him the clear to say them. “I guess I just don’t know how to show you I’m here for you otherwise.”

“You’ve always shown me that, Min,” you respond instantly, not wanting him to doubt himself or his capabilities as a partner. “All I want is for you to be by my side, even if I’m struggling with things, and if you can understand that I’ll ask for your help when I need it moving forward, I think we’ll be okay. Okay?” You kiss his palm in between your own hands, and you tuck it under your chin.

Mingi smiles and puts his other hand on your thigh, rubbing the skin through the material of your dress. “Does this mean that I have to go back to that store and get a refund for the makeup I bought?”

You laugh, the sound coated with happiness, and shake your head again. “No. Why let all that good eyeshadow go to waste, right?”

Mingi chuckles, full of vigor. “Right.” He leans across the box between you, your lips an inch away from his. “And does this mean I can kiss you now?”

You quirk an eyebrow and smirk. “If you know what’s good for you, Song Mingi.”

His lips press to yours, quick and hard, and you swear you hear the clack of your teeth against his the second they collide. You don’t care, though. The feelings that accompany the kiss are all-encompassing; the pain from being apart for days, the tension from the entire night between you like a knife ready to strike down, the love that’s always been there even when you both were apart.

“Fuck, I missed you so much,” Mingi confesses. His yearning pours out via his kisses, all the things he hasn’t been able to say in the past week leaving his body with each caress. They go everywhere along your face, until he plants another on your lips, his smile breaking through it. It’s softer than all the other ones you’ve received from him in the past few minutes. “I love you.”

You know he means it every time he says it. Yet, somehow, with a newfound understanding of your shared wants and needs, and a promise for the future to be better than the past, this time he says it feels sweeter than it ever has. And when you say you love him back, you mean it even more.

@gyubakeries @loserlvrss @lovetaroandtaemin @xomakara @pars-ley @addictedtohobi

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊: @kstrucknet @k-films @kvanity-main @lapydiaries @moadiarynet @/sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @deoboyznet @violetanet @whipped-kpop-creators @pirateeznet

𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝙼𝚈 𝙾𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁 𝚆𝙾𝚁𝙺𝚂 𝘰𝘳 𝙹𝙾𝙸𝙽 𝙼𝚈 𝚃𝙰𝙶𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃𝚂 © 𝖠𝗅𝗅 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗒 𝖩𝖤𝖮𝖭𝖦𝖲𝖮𝖮𝖡; 𝖣𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖻𝗎𝗍𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗍𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍.

[losergender]

pjo / hoo headcanons i have collected since my hyperfix came back

ignore the huge amount of nico and will. six years after reading the series i'm still obsessed with them </3

nico helps cabin 11 steal candy from the infirmary because everyone knows will can't stay mad at him for longer than 5 minutes

the apollo kids gifted nico a bunch of mythomagic packages after learning he had burnt his collection so he could start a new one. he thought it would not be as exciting but turns out he really really missed collecting them from zero because he had gotten used to getting doubles all the time

on the same note, cabin 7 (and specially will) try to learn to play so he has someone to play with. will and him always exchange doubles and sometimes he sacrifices good cards for mid ones just so will doesn't have a mid deck

nico once got a double perseus card and gifted it to percy

the first times nico played his favorite music to hazel she was flabbergasted by the emo genre but didn't want to be mean so she smiled and said it was "very cute"

leo calls will "güerito"

connor stoll owns a nintendo switch that used to be his and travis' (mostly travis') until he accidentally almost destroyed it and it became only his (the screen has a sepia filter to it, one of the joysticks needs adhesive tape to stay in place, it works slowly and the screen has cracks on it). when he can't sleep (because who in camp half-blood can sleep properly?) he plays pokémon until he falls asleep. he is also a big fortnite and minecraft fan.

lou ellen knows how to do balloon modelling

nico once asked chiara about what has italy been doing the past century and she showed him winx club like it was the most important thing italians did (and it is)

percy and will love teen beach movie

austin lake takes it upon himself to show nico all the music he missed during the past decades + the reason cabin 7 learns nico doesn't know any song from after 1942 is that they invite him to play a letter association game and he opts out because of this (the game is forgotten right after because having him listen to the classics is more important). no one suspected he didn't listen to modern music because 99% of his clothes are band shirts he got from percy and thalia.

will was obsessed with hannah montana / miley cyrus as a child (the climb is his favorite song)

connor didn't go to college with travis because he doesn't know what to study yet but instead he spent the year getting his driver's license

each cabin gets a "call home" day every other few days (initiative promoted by the iris cabin)

children of tyche's fatal flaw is impostor syndrome because they are constantly afraid everything they have is undeserved and just a product of their godly heritage

will's favorite dessert is texan sheet cake , nico's is panna cotta

the aphrodite cabin didn't like that nico was the only one with a personalized camp shirt (they are so done with the color orange...) so they started an initiative to get every cabin personalizes shirts with a representative color voted by the head counselors and their cabins number.

the iris and hermes cabins got together to start a camp half-blood magazine released monthly for year-rounders. they do a gossip section about couples at camp (for which they "hired" a child of aphrodite as their correspondent), interviews to the seven or to popular campers, the athena cabin added a crossword section...

[aayakashii]

I always considered fiction my main way of escapism from my own troubles and the world's troubles. After yesterday, I feel like we all need a little bit of escapism and comfort, and I did the only thing I can offer, which is to write. I hope this can bring a little bit of comfort to anyone who's feeling depressed or scared. I hope my blog can be a little safe space if you need to escape. Please take care of yourselves and ily <3

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, actually a lot of comfort, Luca helps reader cope with their feelings

Frostheim always made you feel inadequate. Small. Wrong. Not enough. Your blood wasn't blue and your voice didn't have the sound of centuries of generational wealth, unlike all of its students. Thus, you had no place in speaking up, or expressing your discomfort. Much less saying no.

Which was why you found yourself stuffed inside itchy, uncomfortable clothes that had been bought with Kamurai money – another reason why you couldn't run away from that place – nursing a glass of champagne that you would, most probably, not drink.

Frostheim's balls were a whole different torture on its own.

It's not surprising that the rich would pride themselves in following obscure little etiquette rules that made them feel like they were better than everyone else. It was fine, really. They could choke on their diamonds and coins and silver cutlery for all you'd care.

It's the fact that you had to endure them that truly abhorred you. Endure the waltzes, and the fancy canapes, and the constant flood of drinks, and the stares and the whispers and the stares and the whispers.

The stares and the whispers.

You knew how much people loved to gossip in that godforsaken dorm, but you hoped your professional (and almost friendly) relationship with both the Captain and Vice-Captain would keep them at bay, at least in front of you.

But you forgot that rich people have no respect for those they deem less important than them.

So you were standing on your own, in the corner of the giant ballroom, as you counted how many people would pass by, stare you down and snicker.

Your record for the previous ball was a little over 20 people. This time, you were already on 23.

What a lovely setting.

All you wanted to do was run, go to the campus’ store and beg Benkei to give you a little discount on a bulk of instant noodles and cheap wine. You refused to eat their expensive food as much as you refused to get drunk in front of them.

That was your plan, until the loudspeakers, carefully placed in every corner of the giant room, began playing a gentle tune that reverberated deep inside your bones, and caused you pain you weren't quite expecting.

At least not at that moment.

Much to your dismay, your eyes began to sting as the first words of the oh-so familiar song reached your ears and your grip on the glass tightened instinctively.

It was such an old piece. A cheesy, melancholic little tune released back in your early teens. Back when your biggest worry were your grades and being noticed by your cute classmate.

You downed the champagne in one go, trying to force the lump on your throat to disappear. Breathing became a little bit harder as you felt your chest squeeze with painful nostalgia and you stumbled towards one of the many balconies of the vast building.

You knew they would most always be empty due to the harsh winter weather right outside its glass doors, but you didn't mind. You needed space. Air. And if you were going to ruin your makeup, you wanted to do it on your own.

The singer's voice was slightly muffled, but you could still hear her. The lyrics lamented a wasted love, but all you could think of were the memories associated with the song.

You remembered carrying your childhood dog in your arms as you danced to it in your old bedroom, thinking about fairytale romance and the bright future ahead of you.

You remembered crying to the sound of it after your first heartbreak and the taste of salt on your tongue while your parents drove you to the beach, the song playing softly in the car's speakers.

You remembered sleeping soundly in a friend's room during a sleepover, the song playing time and time again after you all forgot to turn off the computer and the old music player.

You remembered your past life, seeming so far away from you despite you still being so young.

White, glittery flakes barely fell despite the biting cold that enveloped Frostheim like a snow globe. You shivered constantly, but were focused on how strongly you were biting your bottom lip, trying to keep the tears at bay. Your hands gripped the balcony's railing tightly, as you tried to ground yourself.

You missed the sound of the door opening in your intense focus, only snapping out of your daze once you felt a warm coat being draped over your shoulders.

“You shouldn't be outside without a coat. You could catch a cold, or worse.”

Warm breath tickled your cheek and you turned around, only to face two bright violet orbs that widened as soon as you showed your tear-stricken face.

“What happened?” Luca placed his hands on your shoulder, squeezing them lightly, voice frantic. “Are you okay? Did someone say something to you? Did you get hurt?”

You sniffled, quickly shaking your head in order to stop the barrage of questions. You enveloped yourself with his coat a bit tighter, finally realizing how cold you felt. The scent of bergamot on his clothes managed to ground you better than your own nails ever could.

“No, I'm fine. Nothing happened.” You murmured, looking down, a bit ashamed that your breakdown just had a witness.

“Something must have happened. You're crying. If you're distressed, you can tell me.”

You stared at Luca's worried expression for a second before sighing. He walked to your side, leaning onto the balcony's railing like you were just a few moments before.

“It's… nothing important, really. It's just a song that was played there.” you murmured.

“A song?”

“Yeah, I… it's a song I used to listen to when I was younger. It made me remember, you know? Stuff. My life out of here.”

Luca's worried expression morphed into one of sympathy. His lips pursed as he nodded, understanding what you meant without needing other words.

“You must be missing a lot of people.” He said quietly as you settled yourself beside him, looking at the winter wonderland that were Frostheim's gardens.

“Haha, yeah…” You sighed, tired. “A lot of people I didn't get to say goodbye to, nor explain anything. People that probably miss me too. My pets as well. Friends. I had a lot out there. It wasn't much, but it was mine.”

Your voice became strained as your eyes watered once more. You cleared your throat, trying once again to push down that lump. You might have ruined your makeup, but you didn't want to cry even more in front of the boy – you didn't want to feel like you were victimizing yourself, even if deep down you knew you were anything but guilty of your situation.

Luca placed his hand on your head, his touch heavy and warm despite the ambient. His violet eyes looked at you with a swirl of empathy and pain.

“I understand you.” He said, swallowing hard. “It's jarring. The sudden changes, the fear of the unknown and what the future holds. I miss my family too.”

“Right… you came from another country.” You felt dumb for a moment. For venting your anguish onto someone that was living something so similar to you. And in Luca's case, he was all alone in a foreign place.

You suddenly felt small.

“Yes. And it's hard sometimes. Most times, actually.” He chewed on his bottom lip before giving you a small smile. “But I try to keep my mind set on something so I won't get lost in my emotions. Nor in my grief.”

“Your brother…”

He nodded.

“I set my mind into finding a way to get him back. And I won't back down from this until I've done all I can, until I have him back with our family. But also…” His eyes flickered towards yours, scanning your face.

“What?”

“I do have another goal to keep me afloat. Something else I fight for, so I won't give up despite how hard it all is.”

You tilt your head in curiosity. Luca places his gloved hand onto yours, the warmth seeping into your skin as he squeezes you tightly and his eyes burn with determination.

“I also want to find a way to cure you of your curse. To send you back to those people you love and miss. I want to help you get your future back.”

You couldn't help the way your eyes welled up once again, this time out of gratitude for the boy that stood right beside you.

You knew how Luca had to consciously choose to fight against the odds time and time again, despite how others didn't understand his drive and even deemed him weird or inconvenient. You knew how he worked so hard to one day achieve his goals and to have him so openly offer his hand to help you achieve yours warmed your heart.

“Luca…” You muttered, feeling the tears freely run down your cheeks.

“You won't be lost if we're like this.” He raised the hand that was intertwined with yours. You nodded, drying your eyes with the flimsy sleeve of your clothes.

“I'll help you find your brother too.” You announced, as determined as him, through a stuffy nose and dry mouth.

“Thank you.” He beamed at you, his smile blindingly bright. “And when you feel like this again, when you're lost in your own grief… I hope you know you can count on me. As much as I will count on you when I need your help. Okay?”

“Okay.” You nodded. “Let's just ask Tohma to delete that song from his playlist, please.” You added and Luca laughed in agreement.

He pulled you towards the glass doors, leading you back into the warmth of the ballroom.

Before he opened the doors, he looked at you one more time.

“Let's help each other stay afloat?” He asked, smiling gently.

You smiled back.

“Let's. Thank you, Luca.”

“It's what I'm here for.”

He opened the doors and ushered you inside, shielding you from the cold outside.

[nebuladreamerrr]

Black sheep| Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

Summary: You had always felt rejected by your family's paternal side, but you managed to overcome it. However, one match could unleash a plethora of problems.

Warnings: English is not my first language and mention physical and psychological abuse by a paternal figure.

Little by little, at just twenty years old, you had managed to overcome all the obstacles that came your way. It wasn't easy, but with the support of your close circle of friends, you achieved it.

Childhood memories are hazy for you, often questioning if the few you hold truly belong to you or if they are just vague impressions shared when strangers inquire about your early years.

There were beautiful moments in childhood, especially when your father wasn't home. You remember singing summer songs loudly with your mother, her gentle hands combing through your hair as she deftly wove small braids secured with light blue hair ties—a tangible link to carefree, joyful days.

You loved school immensely. Every class fascinated you: from reading fairy tales to dancing at end-of-year parties, practicing carols for Christmas galas, and most of all, playing with classmates during recess. Whether it was tag, British Bulldog, or imitating singers from The Voice Kids, those moments overflowed with happiness.

But these memories darkened when you thought of your father. Despite living in Spain, he enforced a "French" education on you from a young age. He insisted on speaking only Spanish with your mother, and if he caught you playing alone and using a Spanish word instead of French, he would shout and intimidate you. "It's not 'muñeca', it's 'poupée'," he would sternly correct. Those echoes of shouts tainted the joyful memories with shadows of fear and strictness.

Luckily, on your eleventh birthday, your mother gave you the incredible gift of promising to divorce your father. It wasn't an easy decision for either of you. Firstly, because your mother had endured years of severe abuse, beginning with psychological mistreatment that later turned physical. Secondly, because your father was the main provider for the family, which often meant tightening belts to find moments of happiness. Despite the hardships, that promise marked the beginning of a new chapter—one where you started to find the peace and freedom you desperately needed.

With immense effort and dedication, you managed to open a small restaurant that became your family's main source of income. Once things stabilized, your mother finally fulfilled her dream: creating an association to support women who, like her, were trapped in abusive situations and couldn't escape due to fear or difficulties. The association provided shelter, money, clothing, and food to any woman, along with her children or pets, facing such circumstances.

Reflecting on it now, you couldn't be prouder of your mother. Not only for her incredible strength and resilience but also because she always supported your dreams. She became a beacon of hope and resilience for many other women. Her courage and dedication not only changed your lives but also touched and transformed many others.

After successfully completing your education despite the challenges, you faced a new wave of anxiety upon receiving a job offer as a physiotherapist for the French national football team. With an outstanding academic record and recognition from your professors as an exemplary student, evidenced by the honor roll distinction you received, you never imagined an international opportunity would come your way.

The issue wasn't the opportunity itself but the fear of working with international stars and, above all, with a prestigious team of physiotherapists. However, your primary concern was moving to France.

You hadn't set foot in that country since your father left to reunite with his relatives, who felt somewhat ashamed of him for not being able to "tame his lady." Just hearing that language again gave you goosebumps, and every attempt to speak French seemed to trigger a mental block.

But, as a beloved phrase reminds you, "If fear occupies your head, it leaves no room for your dreams." So, with a half-empty suitcase ready to be filled with memories and stories to share upon returning to Spain, you courageously departed for France in 2020. Since then, you've hardly ventured out of the country.

The enchanting French cities captivated you, and despite a few challenging encounters, you handled them with grace and chose to extend your stay. Not to mention, the team of physiotherapists was highly impressed with your work.

You still vividly remember your first day with the players. Nerves had you meticulously arranging bandages and creams, striving for a professionalism that mirrored your dedication. A soft knock on the door startled you, expecting someone at a distance, only to find a young, robust man on the other side.

Young Mbappé wasted no time in coming to your aid, concern evident in his eyes as he asked if you were alright. Despite the initial awkwardness, the session proceeded smoothly. Kylian took the opportunity to inquire about you throughout, his curiosity revealing a growing rapport. By the session's end, the young Frenchman boldly asked for your number and recommended you as his preferred physiotherapist to the trainers, advocating for all future appointments to be with you.

As the French training camp concluded, a deep friendship tinged with burgeoning affection had blossomed between you both, culminating in several dates that emboldened you to begin a relationship that proved profoundly positive for you both.

Over time, you gradually opened up more to Kylian. While he couldn't fathom or justify the challenges your father had imposed on your mother and you, he was resolute in not letting you slip away, grateful for the fortune of meeting you.

Following intense matches filled with surprises, including Kylian breaking his nose in one, France advanced to the semifinals. Despite being French, he understood and respected your steadfast support for Spain, a country synonymous with peace and security for you. Despite France treating you kindly in recent years, your bond with Spain remained unshakeable. And while you supported Spain nationally, Kylian knew he held a special place in your heart as your favorite player.

After a long and disappointing match where France fell short against Spain, conceding victory with two goals, Kylian felt the sting of defeat. Anticipating an uncomfortable press conference probing Rabiot's reaction and Lamine's triumph, his true yearning was to find solace in your arms, the sanctuary he sought since your first embrace.

Exiting the press conference, he swiftly made his way to the locker room for a cold shower and to swap into the national team jersey. Anxious to receive one of your comforting massages, he hastened towards you. Yet upon arrival, his surprise mounted upon seeing you visibly distressed while listening to an unfamiliar older man.

His astonishment grew as he approached and heard the hurtful words of your uncle: "Even twenty years from now, you will always be a disappointment. I wonder if you've struck a deal with your boyfriend to win a bet and some money. You're a small rat who will never rise socially. My brother made a grave mistake marrying your mother."

Before you could respond, you felt his strong arms around your waist, shielding you. Kylian intervened calmly yet firmly: "Excuse me, if you don't stop speaking like that, I'll be forced to call security. I won't allow you to belittle my girlfriend or her family. If you continue, all of France will know how you treat women, and your family business will suffer."

Taken aback by Kylian's response and swift action, your uncle chose to leave the stadium. Touched deeply by Kylian's display of love and protection, tears streamed down your face as you embraced him and whispered, "Thank you so much. I don't know what I would do without you, my king."

From the moment he met you, Kylian had made a vow to himself: he wouldn't let your family inflict pain on you again.