#but this was a good excuse to show everything i have waiting now

[itsnesss]

𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐦𝐞 | max verstappen × fem!reader

summary | a rumor explodes in the press: max was seen with another girl at an after-party. the internet is on fire. so are you. he swears nothing happened, but trust begins to crack

warnings | angst, infidelity? (find out), emotional intensity, relationship struggles

word count | 2.0 k

🖇️ masterlist

The notification comes just as you're finishing getting ready. The flight to Italy leaves in three hours, and you've been waiting for this trip for weeks. Max promised you a getaway after the race. No photographers. No schedules. Just the two of you.

But when you unlock your phone, the world stops.

“MAX VERSTAPPEN AT PRIVATE PARTY WITH MYSTERIOUS BLONDE. WHERE IS HIS GIRLFRIEND?”

- Daily Sports

Your stomach churns when you see the photo: him, holding a beer, and a girl practically sitting on his lap. There’s no kiss. But you don’t need one. The image says more than a thousand excuses.

Your fingers shake as you click through the gallery. There’s more. Another one where Max smiles at the blonde. Another where she touches his chest. And one last blurry one that could be anything… but your mind already paints the worst scenario.

The buzzing in your ears is deafening.

Your phone vibrates. A message from Max.

Max: “Don’t believe everything you see.”

How convenient.

How quick.

How desperately little.

You take a deep breath. One. Two. Three times. You don’t cry. Not yet. But your hands are no longer responding.

You don’t know what hurts more: the photo… or his two damn words.

Trust me.

That’s what he tells you when he arrives half an hour later at your apartment, unannounced, with his cap pulled low and his eyes red from exhaustion. Or guilt. Or both.

“Y/N…” he begins, barely crossing the threshold. “Nothing happened. I swear.”

You look at him. He still sounds the same. But it doesn’t sound the same.

“Are you kidding me?”

Max shuts the door behind him. Takes a step. You take a step back.

“It was a team party. After the podium. Everyone was there. She… she just sat down. I didn’t invite her. I didn’t do anything.”

Your laugh is hollow, bitter. Like an empty glass breaking on its own in the silence.

“You didn’t do anything… but you didn’t seem uncomfortable. You didn’t seem to push her away. You didn’t seem to remember you had a girlfriend.”

He rubs his face, frustrated.

“Are you really going to do this over some pictures?”

Your eyes fill with rage. There he is. The driver who thinks he’s invincible. The champion who thinks everything can be fixed with a good explanation.

“Yes, Max! Because that’s all I have. Pictures. While you were with her, I was here, packing for a trip you suggested. ‘No photographers,’ you promised. ‘No schedules,’ you said! Do you know what it feels like to open my phone and find that?”

Max closes his eyes for a second. When he opens them, there’s something broken in them.

“I don’t want to lose you over something stupid,” he mutters.

“Then you should’ve taken better care of it first.”

Silence.

For the first time, Max Verstappen has no answer.

You don’t know when the keys slipped from your hands. Or when you started crying. You just know you’re standing in front of the man you love, and you don’t recognize him anymore.

“How many times do I have to explain to you that nothing happened?” Max insists, more tense now, raising his voice. “What do you want me to do?! Throw myself on the floor and beg you?!”

“No, I don’t want you to beg, Max!” you shout, your voice breaking. “I want you to understand. I want you to see what you did. I want to know if you’re lying to me or if you just don’t care!”

He takes a deep breath. Steps back. Walks around your living room as if looking for air. Or an escape.

“Do you have any idea how hard this is?” he says, his voice lower but trembling. “Do you know how hard it is to be in the middle of all this and still keep something real, something that doesn’t get filtered, that doesn’t break, that doesn’t become part of the show?”

“Then don’t drag me into your world,” you say, your voice cracking. “Don’t drag me in if you’re not going to take care of me there.”

He stops. Looks at you. There’s anger in his eyes. And sadness. A cocktail you’ve never seen before.

“Do you know what you mean to me?” he says, his voice breaking. “You’re the only thing I have that doesn’t revolve around a car, a clock, a strategy. Don’t make me lose you over a damn photo.”

You look at him. You listen to him. And still… you can’t shake the image of her touching his chest.

“It’s not just the photo,” you answer, your voice steady, trembling inside. “It’s how it made me feel. Invisible. Replaceable. Stupid.”

Max closes his eyes. Nods slowly.

“I’m sorry.”

The phrase hangs in the air. It’s not a scream. It’s not an excuse. It’s just that. A lament. One that came too late.

“Give me space,” you whisper, stepping back. “Just… I need to think.”

“Are you going to cancel the trip?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you going to leave me?”

Your silence says it all.

He doesn’t try to stop you as you walk to the bedroom.

And for the first time since you’ve been together, he sleeps on the couch.

And you… don’t sleep.

The next morning, the scandal is no longer just a rumor: it’s trending. Max’s name is everywhere, and yours too. Fan accounts make theories. Gossip pages dissect your outfits. There are videos, memes, screenshots, comparisons between you and the blonde. You wake up with a knot in your stomach and a hundred notifications.

You don’t need to open a single one.

The damage is already done.

Max is still in your apartment, like a silent shadow. He doesn’t try to talk to you. He’s just there, walking with his phone, looking for an escape that doesn’t exist.

“Your team is going to kill you,” you say from the kitchen, not looking at him.

He looks up. Surprised you’re speaking to him.

“They already did. Horner called me at six. It wasn’t a calm conversation.”

“And the blonde?”

Max sighs.

“A model hired by one of the sponsors. I didn’t even know she was going to be there. It was a trap. For the press. For the image. Whatever. But it fell right where it hurts.”

Your eyes cloud, but you keep them fixed on the coffee you don’t finish.

“So, are you telling me everything was staged?”

“I don’t know. I just know I didn’t touch her. I didn’t look at her the way I look at you.”

The phrase hangs there. Raw. Intense. Uncomfortable.

And for the first time since it all started, you don’t know if you want to hug him… or keep stabbing him with your gaze.

Later, you both leave the building. A stupid decision, maybe, but Max doesn’t want to hide. And you… you don’t know if you can keep being locked up anymore.

The flashes blind you.

“Max, smile!”

“Y/N, did you forgive the infidelity?!”

“Was it marketing or was it real?!”

“Are you going to Italy or not?!”

He takes your hand. And by reflex, you squeeze his.

But the contact hurts. Because you don’t know if it’s real… or part of the same circus that destroyed you.

When you get into the car, the silence returns. All you hear is his labored breathing. The tapping of his fingers on the steering wheel.

Until he can’t take it anymore.

“Does it bother you that I defended you in front of the press?”

“No. What bothers me is having to be defended.”

He nods. And slams the car to a stop at the side of the highway.

“Get out,” he says.

You look at him, confused.

“What?”

“Get out. Yell at me. Tell me everything you’re not saying. Because if we keep going like this, we’re going to die from silence.”

His eyes are red. His voice, broken.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” you say, getting out of the car.

“And I don’t know if I’ll ever look at the podium again if you’re not by my side.”

The wind cuts through. The cameras are far away. It’s just the two of you. Two broken hearts at the edge of the asphalt.

“Do you know what hurts, Max?”

“Tell me.”

“It’s not the photo. Not the rumor. What hurts the most is that when I saw it… I believed it.”

Max freezes.

“And that means that, at some point… I started to distrust you.”

He steps closer. Not too much. But just enough for you to hear him clearly.

“Then let me prove it to you. That I’m not what you fear. That what we have isn’t a trophy decoration. With you, I’m more human than a driver.”

Your eyes search for him. And for a moment, the pain loosens. Just a little.

“And what if I can’t trust again?”

“Then I’ll stay here. On the side of the road. Until you can.”

A laugh escapes you. Between tears.

“You can’t stop your life for me.”

“My life stopped when I saw your eyes this morning.”

Silence.

The plane waits.

The suitcase is packed, leaning by the door like an unfinished sentence. Max is next to you, still, eyes glued to the ground. Like he already knows the decision but can’t bring himself to confirm it.

“We could pretend,” you murmur, barely audible. “Say we’re fine. Smile for the cameras. Post a picture together. Is that what they want, right?”

He lifts his gaze, and there’s pain in his expression.

“I don’t want a relationship that looks like a racing strategy.”

You get a little closer, just enough for him to feel your perfume, for you to feel his pulse trembling.

“Then tell me the truth, Max. Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me you were going to that afterparty? Why weren’t you transparent?”

“Because I thought it was irrelevant. Because I was tired. Because I wanted a night without thinking about how every step I take could destroy us both.”

He pauses. Swallows hard. Looks down.

“And because… if I had told you, I knew it would hurt anyway. Even if I didn’t do anything.”

You feel like you’ve swallowed glass.

“And now what? Do we get on that plane like nothing happened?”

“No,” he says, without hesitation. “We get on because there’s still something between us that’s worth more than all this noise.”

Before you can answer, someone knocks on the door. Firm, urgent knocks.

You open it.

And it’s her.

The girl from the photo.

Blonde, immaculate, with a rehearsed smile that disappears as soon as she sees you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother…” she says, looking down. “I just came to clarify something. For both of you.”

Max freezes.

You step back, confused, but decide to listen.

“What happened that night… was a setup. They asked me to ‘accompany’ him because it looked good for a campaign. I wasn’t going to say anything, but when I saw how this is ruining everything…”

She looks at you. And her voice softens.

“He didn’t touch me. Not a single word out of place. In fact, he kept looking at his phone. I think he was texting you.”

Max frowns, uncomfortable.

“You didn’t need to come.”

“Yes, I did,” she replies, confidently. “Because it’s not fair. Not to you, nor to her.”

You sit down, as if all the weight is concentrating in your legs.

You don’t know whether to cry… or run to him.

But for the first time since it all started, something inside you starts to loosen.

After she leaves, Max slowly approaches.

“I don’t want you to believe me because of her. Or because of what the world says. Just because of what you feel.”

You look at him. Directly. No filters.

“Then tell me: what are we now?”

“We’re two broken people… but who keep choosing each other even in pieces.”

Silence.

Then, only your voice.

“Let’s get on that plane, Verstappen. But this time… without pretending anything.”

And Max smiles. Not like a driver.

But as a man who, finally, starts to recover what he feared losing the most.

[mylovesstuffs]

Omg this had me in a chokehold. The tension, the fake engagemeny, the childhood besties who lowkey never stopped loving each other but are now awkward and hurt and pretending not to care—I was EATING. The moments like him chuckling like he’s fine [but he’s sooo not], the unspoken understanding [iyk which scene I'm talking about; dawn one], and the he’s gonna kill me panix when she realised— I was living for this lmao

Also, the pacing in this fic goes from I am so done to oh wait, I'm soft in the span of one scene. It’s emotional whiplash for dure, but in a way that makes you crave more. And the angst was delicious. Like, I needed a trigger warning for the amount of painfully unspoken feelings packed into this

This fic is everything I love: angst, yearning, royal drama, and a dash of Jeonghan being that guy. 100/10 no notes. I need more.

Once again, under the cut, there are spoilers and the commentary I wrote in my notes as I was reading, so it might not be coherent.

“Objections will not be heard,” he says, rejoicing merrily. “Let it be said, as far and wide as the kingdom goes. My daughter is to be married!”— wow, what a nice father 🥺

How do you deliver news like this to someone you aren’t even on speaking terms with?— 💀💀💀????????

Your brain is on high alert right now, and every single self-defense lesson Jeonghan has given you kicks in as you get dragged into a dark room.— Jeonghan 😭😭😭

“So I was just convenient for you,” he says, scowling. “We haven’t spoken to each other in years, and you choose to throw me under the bus?” — IN YEARS??!???!!!!??! I thought maybe months- oh lord.

“And whose fault is it?” You step closer, glaring up at him and all his audacity.— for some reason, and all his audacity made me laugh 😂

Omg I love their banter sm! They have really good chemistry.

All’s well that ends well, right?— right.

The feeling of his fingers intertwined with yours sends a rush of heat to your face that you can’t deny. This confuses you, he confuses you.— ah this is so giddy, bittersweet, romantic and everything. I can't feel his fingers intertwining.

Wordlessly, he nods, slipping his jacket off his shoulders and draping it over your own.— gentleman for sure.

“Don’t make me fall in love with you,” you murmur softly, but Seungkwan is already gone.— girl, sorry to break it to you but, you already fell. It's hard not to.

The day Jeonghan returns, there is a downpour from hell.— ohhhh Jeonghan!!! So Jeonghan's self-defence classes wasn't just for show! He's here, yay.

The sudden greeting almost has you jumping, and your first instinct is to turn around and slam your heavy book into the man’s face.— in other words, self-defence at it's finest 😂 it was instinctive.

Jeonghan teaching self-defense was not a subplot, it was a prophecy.

Every time you see him again, he has changed somewhat, but also not quite at all. There will always be that inkling of mischief in his eye until the day he dies.— bahahah yes, until the day he does XD I think it's true for real life Jeonghan persona too.

“Because it’s true! Don’t you know that Y/N here used to – Ow! Again?!”— JEONGHAN!!! 😭😭

“I can’t believe you were about to reveal everything just then!”— why do I have a feeling that Seungkwan might overhear???

“Who’s that?” “Long story.” “I have time.”—thats so Jeonghan 🧍🏻‍♀️

But in the days that follow, Jeonghan’s words echo in your mind. You see Seungkwan less and less; every time you run into him, he seems to have an excuse on the tip of your tongue, and you can’t help but wonder what has happened.— did he overhear and now he's just avoiding?

There is an uncanny, knowing smile on his face. “Although, I might not need to leave so soon,” he drawls, “if I still have the opportunity to fulfill what I originally came here for.”— did HE overhear or put things together???? Oh lord, pls no!!

“Get up.” Seungkwan is, for lack of a better word, seething.— I'm sorry but that's HOT 🥵

It’s almost comical, the way that he walks away with a vindictive air about him. — thank lord he's walking away and not causing a scene!

“I saw you on my way to the training grounds, but you weren’t alone, so I just wanted to see what was going on,” he grimaces, “and I’m glad I did.”— that's so sweet and comforting and oddly romantic, too.

YES! He didn't overhear Jeonghan and Y/N, not that it would've been bad, but the way it turned out—is good.

“You deserve every good thing in this universe,” he tells you, “every beautiful moment that exists in time. But I can’t give that to you, no matter how much I wish I could, and it hurts to be near you when it’s all so very impossible.”— 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

“You just kissed me,” he says incredulously.— it just gave me all kinds of feelings in my stomach. So pure ngl.

Seungkwan smiles — a bright, gorgeous thing that could put even the sun to shame. — such a true and poetic line. His smile is really like that.

I loved this so so so much. Tysm Ashi, for writing this. I'll adore you forever ♾️

catch the rain ; boo seungkwan

summary: caught between a political alliance and the possibility of a prolonged freedom, you just can't help the easy lie that slips out of your mouth. now, you're left to deal with the consequences of putting up a front to your family, the court, and the rest of the kingdom.

pairing: boo seungkwan x f!reader

contains: historical/royalty au, childhood best friends to not friends to friends again to lovers, reader's surname is choi because scoups, fake engagement, cheol is married in this, bestie jeonghan coming in clutch

warnings: language/swearing, shady behavior from a dude (ew), mentions of war and blood

word count: 8.53k

a/n: it's finally done! many thanks to ro @shinysobi for beta reading and also jay @ppyopulii for your feedback <3 also this gorgeous gorgeous banner was made by jay too; they're literally a graphic genius & i am so thankful ❤️ i hope you guys enjoy!

tags: @mochacoda @ppyopulii (let me know if you'd like to be tagged!)

“And then there was chaos,” Jeonghan would say if he was here right now.

He wouldn’t be wrong, either. You can almost picture his smirk in your mind – you’re just standing motionlessly, watching as the ministers lose their minds and your father tries to process what you’ve just said for the entire court to hear. 

It has been several minutes since you’ve made the announcement, and there has not been a moment of calmness since then. Of course, you were aware that news of this nature would shock the general public to some extent, but you didn’t think it was that serious.

You watch nervously as your father calls for order, quieting the room down, and then turns to you.

“You are trying to tell me, child,” he says slowly, leaning back against his throne, “that you mean to marry General Boo’s son?”

“Yes.” The lie is bitter on your tongue, but you have no choice but to run with it, albeit a bit awkwardly. “He is the one I want to be with. I… I love him,” you add awkwardly, hoping nobody catches on.

“I see.” 

You must have sounded convincing enough because he doesn’t question you any further. Instead, he just chuckles to himself after a few seconds, relaxing his shoulders. 

“And all this time we were trying to find someone for you, suitor after suitor… Oh, my apologies, Doyun. I suppose your plans are not to come to fruition.”

At the corner of the table, the aforementioned young lord scowls in silence. You shudder, reminded of all the ways he had tried to court you – cornering you in some random hall of the palace and trying to come to your chambers at night. No matter how much you tried, for your father’s sake, you could not see yourself with him.

“Well, I suppose our search for a suitable groom is over,” your father continues, giving you a warm smile. “That is quite the relief, isn’t it?”

“Wait, you’re okay with this?”

“Why would I not be? I have seen the both of you grow from small children into promising adults, and Seungkwan is a good man,” he remarks kindly. “The court may have reservations, but that is irrelevant to me. I have none.”

Minister Park raises his hand tentatively. “But, Your Majesty –”

“Objections will not be heard,” he says, rejoicing merrily. “Let it be said, as far and wide as the kingdom goes. My daughter is to be married!”

It’s evident that the court is displeased with your choice, but they congratulate you regardless, not willing to risk their roles by further irritating the king. You play along as best as you possibly can, all smiles for everyone else. Clearly, your little lie was surprising enough for nobody to suspect a thing.

Doyun approaches you next, bowing slightly while making a face. You return it out of respect, though his mere presence around you is unsettling enough. 

“Congratulations, Your Highness,” he says, raising his eyebrows. “Boo Seungkwan must be over the moon, to be engaged to a woman like you.”

Shit. Seungkwan. 

You haven’t even told him yet. How can you justify such a huge lie you let slip in a moment of sheer panic?

How do you deliver news like this to someone you aren’t even on speaking terms with?

“Uh, yes. He is,” you reply, trying to suppress the alarm from reflecting onto your face. “We are very happy. Yes.”

“Yes, that is good,” he says, slightly amused.

“I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay,” you tell him, bowing again. Internally, you grimace a little, trying to prevent the awkwardness of the situation from getting even worse. “And I hope there are no hard feelings, sir. I truly am sorry.”

“Of course not, Your Highness.” He doesn’t look like he believes you, but he accepts the apology nonetheless. You plaster a fake smile on your face until he finally walks away, leaving you by yourself.

“Thank god,” you mutter under your breath, looking for a way out. Your father is attempting to move on to the next topic, settling the court, and you use this moment to leave through the back doors, finally getting some space from all the chaos.

In the silence, the weight of your actions hits you suddenly. God, Seungkwan is going to kill you, you realize, for dragging him into something that isn’t his problem at all.

“What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself, assessing your next steps. Seungcheol – you could ask him for advice, although he might lecture you first. But you don’t know who else you could go to right now besides your brother.

Carefully, you slip into the hallway, making your way towards the library. It’s just barely evening, so you’re almost certain Seungcheol will be there. You pray you don’t run into anybody, making sure to stay quiet so nobody spots you away from the meeting you’re supposed to be at.

Immediately after you turn the next corner, you feel a hand wrap around your wrist tightly, pulling you aside.

“Wha– mmf!” Another hand comes up to cover your mouth, muffling any noises you make. 

Your brain is on high alert right now, and every single self-defense lesson Jeonghan has given you kicks in as you get dragged into a dark room. You struggle against the firm hold, elbowing your captor and delivering a particularly harsh kick to the inside of their knee in hopes that they’ll let you go.

“Ow! What the fuck?”

You���re about to do it again when you realize the man sounds strangely familiar for some reason. You stop trying to attack him and bite down on the hand that’s covering your mouth instead.

“Ow!” he exclaims again, clearly in pain. You almost feel bad, almost. “What is wrong with you, seriously!”

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you?” you yell back, blindly following the wall to find the light. “I almost thought you were trying to kill me, and you still might be!”

“Why would I try to kill you?!”

The gears in your head start shifting as you finally get the light to work. The bulb illuminates the room as you turn to face the absolute last person you thought you were going to see today.

“Seungkwan,” you breathe, taken aback for a moment. You haven’t spoken to him in so long, and certainly not since he came back to the palace. Of course, you knew he had returned, but between all the things you had to do, you never got the chance to see him. Just looking at him now – his grown-out hair, and bruised knuckles – brings back a multitude of emotions. “What are you doing here?”

He just folds his arms, a deep frown crossing his features. “When were you going to tell me we’re getting married, Y/N?”

Shit. This is exactly the situation you were hoping to avoid. Seungkwan looks pissed off, and rightfully so.

“I’m so sorry,” you rush, the words tumbling out of your mouth. “I was at a court meeting, and everyone was pushing to hear some good news that I just didn’t have, and I just – I don’t know, I don’t know why I said your name first. I really didn’t mean to, Seungkwan, I’m really sorry.”

“So I was just convenient for you,” he says, scowling. “We haven’t spoken to each other in years, and you choose to throw me under the bus?”

“And whose fault is it?” You step closer, glaring up at him and all his audacity. “Whose fault is it that we haven’t spoken? I wrote to you almost every day for a year, and you decided to pretend I didn’t exist!”

“Did you expect me to drop all my responsibilities just for you? I was in the middle of a warzone, Y/N, I had bigger things to worry about than letters from home.”

Those words sting you into silence. Seungkwan has always been one to say things he doesn’t mean during a heated argument, but right now you have no way of knowing what’s actually on his mind.

“This is such a huge mess,” he says again after a few seconds, agitatedly running his hands through his hair. “Everyone thinks we’re actually engaged. We have to fix this somehow.”

“What, do you want me to go back and tell my father there will be no wedding because we hate each other's guts?”

“Ideally, yes.”

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief. “Seungkwan, I can’t do that!”

“And what about what I want?” It’s evident that his patience is running out, especially as his jaw tightens and his hands clench into fists. “What about my life? This is a huge decision that you made all by yourself and now I’m dragged into it for no reason other than knowing you!”

He’s right, and you know this, even as you open your mouth to retaliate. It’s certainly not fair; you aren’t even friends for you to rely on him like this right now. It was convenient – maybe that’s why Seungkwan’s name was the first on your tongue when you were being cornered with questions about your marriage.

Now, standing in front of him for the first time in years, you just miss him. You miss how close the two of you used to be, and the way things have changed makes your heart ache.

“I’ll go speak with my father right now,” you decide, peeling your eyes off of him and beelining for the door. “We still have time, we can play it off as a practical joke and pretend we had them all fooled —“

“No, wait, come back,” Seungkwan calls after a second’s hesitation, frowning again. “Don’t do that.”

“I thought you didn’t want this?”

“Absolutely not,” he grimaces, “but you’re going to cause so much trouble if you go and call it off now. Also, you’re almost twenty-five. Do you really think the court won’t push your father to make you marry Baek Doyun for political benefit? That man is a disgusting creep, especially considering all the things he’s done before.”

You narrow your eyes at him upon hearing that last part. “How do you know about that?”

“People talk,” he shrugs. “Never underestimate the palace attendants.”

“Oh, great.”

Seungkwan just observes you for a second. Those eyes have always been the most perceptive, ever since you were little kids. Not many things can get past him.

“Listen,” he starts, a little tentatively, “Baek hasn’t done anything to hurt you, has he?”

“No, never.”

“Good,” he sighs with something akin to relief. “Never liked the guy.”

You don’t question it; you barely have the energy to. Instead, you just lean against the wall, letting your head fall back onto the cement. 

“What do we do now?”

“For starters, we can’t actually get married.”

“Obviously,” you roll your eyes at him. “You’re acting like I want to be associated with you any more than I already am.”

“Clearly.”

“Shut up, Seungkwan.” 

The quiet reigns for a little while longer as you sit with him and your thoughts. Never in your life would you ever have expected things to come to this. 

“We could keep this going for a while and then say we called the engagement off,” you suggest, musing to yourself. “We could just say we realized we’re better off as friends.”

“Right,” he says under his breath, but you still hear it. Whatever. “That might be our only way out.”

You groan, dropping your head to your hands. “God, this is going to be the longest few months of my life.”

“You’re not the victim here,” Seungkwan reminds you. “I’m the one who got pulled into a relationship that I had no say in.”

There are no words on the tip of your tongue. How are you supposed to tell him you miss him while you’re still on wildly questionable terms? You can't even begin to express how badly you want things to go back to the way they were.

From where you’re standing, you sneak another glance at him. Seungkwan was always beautiful in the way that ceramics are; carefully created but also tangible, so easily slipped into daily life. 

You used to be my best friend, you catch yourself thinking as you watch him fiddle with the hem of his shirt. How did we get here?

“We should go,” you say instead. “I can’t go missing for too long before someone realizes I’m not where I’m supposed to be.”

He pulls himself to his feet. “And where are you supposed to be, Your Highness?”

“Not here,” you quip, reaching for the door handle. “I really hope you’re a stellar actor, Seungkwan. Keeping secrets from the palace is far from easy.”

You receive nothing but a dismissive sigh in return. “Worry about yourself, okay? I’ll do just fine.”

Typical, you think, but the truth is that you’ve missed the quick sarcasm that is just so very Seungkwan. 

As you leave the room with him in tow, a sense of trepidation fills the pit of your stomach. All’s well that ends well, right? 

You aren’t sure. Right now, you can only hope that this is one of those things.

There is nobody in the palace that loves you quite like Seungcheol does.

Your father likes to recount the way he used to watch over you when you were learning how to take your first steps, the way he would start bawling if you so much as got a scratch on yourself as a child. Everyone knows he would draw blood for you in a heartbeat, if it ever came to it.

However, that is not evident right now. Instead, he’s giving you a stern look from his spot on his armchair, arms folded in an attempt to look intimidating. Beside him, your sister-in-law Seoyeon is curled up in the bed with her blanket, listening in out of curiosity.

“Let me get this straight,” he says once you’re done talking. “You weren’t engaged two hours ago.”

“Yes.”

“But now you are.”

“Yes.

“To Seungkwan?”

No part of you enjoys having to lie to your brother over something you wish you could just talk to him about, but you genuinely can’t risk a single person finding out about your coverup.

“Yes,” you respond again, wincing internally. 

Seungcheol seems to be slightly taken aback. He takes a long sip of his chamomile tea before saying anything, weighing the situation in his head.

“You’re sure about this?”

“I am.”

“You know I just worry about you,” he says gently. “It’s not that I don’t trust you to make your own decisions. I just want you to be happy, no matter what it takes.”

“I will be,” you assure him. “He… he makes me happy.”

It feels wrong to even say that, but it seems to be good enough for Seungcheol, who just gives a small smile at your words. 

“You know, I feel like most of us saw this coming,” he remarks. “Now that I think about it, I’m not that surprised.”

“Really?”

“Well, of course. You two were essentially inseparable when you were younger. Eventually you grew up and had to go off and do your own things, but that kind of bond doesn’t just disappear overnight, does it?”

Oh, he could not be more wrong about that. If Seungkwan was here right now, he’d probably start laughing out loud. 

“Right,” is all you say, mentally folding in on yourself. 

It’s late, and especially after your little altercation with Seungkwan earlier, you’re totally spent. It feels like you’ve lived several months within the span of a few hours. What you need right now is to be wrapped under your covers and block out all of today’s events. 

When you finally bid them goodnight and retreat to your own room, the fatigue hits you like a truck. It takes everything in you to change into your nightclothes and wash up before slipping into bed, wondering what exactly you’ve gotten yourself into.

In the following days, you receive congratulations from nearly everyone, fielding a plethora of questions about the nature of your relationship. The lies come easily in the moment, but you make a mental note to get your story straight with Seungkwan later.

“You two make a dashing couple,” Jiwon, one of your ladies-in-waiting, tells you. “It was always so very obvious the young man was in love with you.”

This stops you in your tracks. “What?”

“Did you not know? There could be no other explanation for the way he looked after you,” she recollects. “Even when you weren’t aware, he was always around.”

Was that true? You have no way of knowing; you don’t remember much from your childhood or your adolescent years. Either way, all you see when he looks at you is years’ worth of resentment built up and settled like molten rock.

The hours you spend with yourself eventually blur into days that morph into weeks. You never see Seungkwan for more than an hour at a time, meeting only in the public eye or to keep each other posted on the situation. 

Somewhere, though, you think you feel the ice melting. His gaze on you is a bit warmer now, less disdainful than the first time you ran into him.

When the hour is late and you are alone, you find yourself toying with the gold band now resting on your finger. Seungkwan had given it to you last week, standing a bit awkwardly under the late afternoon sunlight.

“It was my mother’s,” he’d said quietly. The weight of the moment was enough; nothing else needed to be said as he easily slipped it on you, the metal cool against your skin.

You think about it often. With one sentence, you’ve turned such a meaningful item into a mere facade. There is no love between you and Seungkwan, at least not the way anyone would expect there to be. The relationship feels like a carefully calibrated hourglass. 

The second it’s over, the illusion will break.

The worst of it all is the public appearances, you realize. Like now, in the face of shining lights and endless smiles. This ball is in honor of you and your husband-to-be, your father had told you, but it feels like you’re being made to walk on thumbtacks for the whole kingdom to watch. To top it all off, your dress feels awfully restricting, and you want nothing more than peace and quiet.

Seungkwan is not so far from you, greeting people you can barely remember the names of. He looks painfully good tonight, dark brown hair pushed back in a way you’ve never seen before. His burgundy suit compliments him nicely, and you try to ignore how he’s managed to match certain tones of your dress.

Your eyes drift over to your brother and Seoyeon, calmly sitting at their places and watching the liveliness of the night. Seeing them exist in their own happy bubble makes you mourn what you can’t have. 

“Hey.” You jolt at the light touch of a hand on your shoulder, but upon turning around, it’s just your fiancé. “Doing alright?”

The sudden tenderness has you on edge, but you nod anyway. 

“Do you want to sit?”

“No, I’m okay,” you decline, looking everywhere, anywhere but his eyes. “You should dance, you know. That’s sort of the whole point of this thing.”

“But you’re not dancing,” Seungkwan huffs, lips pulled into a small pout.

“So?”

He looks down at you curiously now, mouth parting ever so slightly. “Why would I dance without you?”

That you don't know how to respond to. It reminds you too much of the way things used to be. A package deal, you used to call yourselves. 

Instead, you simply offer him your hand with a small smile. “Shall we, then?”

The feeling of his fingers intertwined with yours sends a rush of heat to your face that you can’t deny. This confuses you, he confuses you.

Or maybe it’s because you’ve had a little too much champagne tonight. You can’t tell which it is, and maybe it’s better that way.

Seungkwan looks a bit nervous as you pull him towards the dance floor, weaving in between swaying couples. You raise your eyebrows at him as if to ask, ‘What’s wrong?’

“I could not tell you the last time I had to do this,” he confesses shyly. “I really can’t dance.”

“All those years in the palace and nobody ever taught you?”

“Not the time.”

“Do as I say and you won’t fall on your face,” you instruct, pulling him a little closer to you. “Now put your right hand on my waist.”

Seungkwan just stares at you blankly. “You want me to what now?”

“Just do it,” you hiss, ignoring your heart doing double time. “Okay, good, just keep mirroring me now. There’s really nothing more to it.”

“Everyone makes this look a lot easier than it is,” he grumbles, nearly tripping over his own feet.

“Yes, you are far more nimble with a sword in your hand,” you tease lightly. “Spin me, would you?”

“As you wish,” he relents, twirling you carefully in time with the beat. There are onlookers now, cheering on your semblance of a happy couple, and you can feel everyone’s eyes on you. The music almost makes you forget everything that’s currently on your mind – no, nothing but the song and Seungkwan’s gentle hold on your waist to think about.

You make the mistake of meeting his eyes. Seungkwan freezes, your breath catching on the moment, and the next thing you know he’s stumbling over thin air, trying to keep himself on his feet.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” he’s apologizing to the people around him, giving you a pleading look that says I can’t do this. It’s hard to stifle the giggle that escapes your lips, and before you know it, you’re laughing with each other over the silliness of it all.

“You truly do have two left feet,” you remark, following him away from the dance floor. Seungkwan just chuckles in amusement.

“I did warn you before, you just chose not to believe me.”

“Well, my bad for trying to teach you something new today.”

“Trust me, your efforts were likely in vain.” He turns, eyes settling on you. There is something about this angle that makes him look a little ethereal. Maybe it’s the chandelier light illuminating the soft slope of his face.

“What is it?” you ask, when his gaze lingers a little too long. Seungkwan leans a little closer so you can hear him above the surrounding commotion. 

“You look beautiful,” he says, a tad delicately. “The maroon is a very nice color on you.”

“Oh. Thank you,” comes your unwieldy reply to the compliment that you weren’t expecting. “You clean up rather nicely, too.”

He was never good at taking any sort of flattery, and you recall this as you watch a light pink slowly coat his cheeks. It’s cute, you almost think, before kicking yourself for the stray notion.

“Your Lord Baek has been eyeing us all night,” he informs you, shedding his suit coat. “For what, I have no idea, but it’s a little weird, no?”

You scowl at him. “He’s not mine, don’t say that.”

“He would have been if it wasn’t for me ending up as your sacrificial lamb,” he points out, and you can’t argue against that. “I have half a mind to go over there and cause a scene.”

Your eyes widen with alarm. “Seungkwan, don’t do that!”

“I won’t,” he promises reluctantly, but you can tell it’s still bothering him for whatever reason. “When’s he leaving, anyway?”

“A few weeks, maybe?” You can’t remember exactly, but you must have overheard him speaking to your father about it a while ago. “In any case, soon. And thank god for it.”

Seungkwan hums in agreement, fingers idling on the edge of the table. He looks good in his vest, sleeves of his shirt rolled up to just below his elbows. You realize you like how his arms fill out the sleeves, unassumingly strong under the light fabric.

He takes another sip of his wine, pulling a face at the flavor, and looks at you with an impish glint in his eyes. “Do you want to leave?”

You give him a look. “Are you suggesting sneaking away from my own party?”

“Well, you definitely don’t look like you want to be here,” he notes, and he couldn’t be more correct. It makes you wonder how he still knows you so well after all this time. “So is that a yes, or…?”

“Yes,” you say immediately, already rising. “Please. Let’s get out of here.”

“Called it,” Seungkwan smirks, picking up his jacket and following as you slip through the crowd unnoticed. Your fingers just barely brush amidst the chaos, and you resist the urge to reach back and pull him along with you. 

The balcony is freeing, the gentle night breeze refreshing on your face. It’s a little cold, but you don’t really mind it just yet, ignoring it for the lovely view you’re taking in right now. 

“Feeling better?”

“A little.” You turn and look at him, mirroring your stance as he leans on the railing, observing you quietly. “Seungkwan, I’m sorry.”

His eyebrows raise in confusion as if to say, ‘What for?’

“All of this,” you say, vaguely gesturing towards the ballroom you’ve just left behind. “It’s a lot, and you didn’t ask for it.”

Seungkwan doesn’t meet the apologetic gaze you cast on him, stray strands of hair escaping his well-styled bangs. 

“It’s not the worst,” he points out. “Your father and brother don’t dislike me, which is what I was most worried about.”

“Are you kidding?” you ask, astonished. “That should be the least of your worries. They might like you more than me, honestly.”

He just laughs to himself, cheeks pink. “It’s nice of you to say that. Makes it a little easier to continue the act until our fake divorce.”

“We’re not married yet,” you remind him.

“Ah, right.”

It’s so easy to slip into a comfortable silence with Seungkwan, it always has been. You are not a woman of many words, and you like being able to bask in the quiet without constantly thinking of something new to say. 

In a way, not much has changed.

“So,” he starts, “how are we breaking this news to everyone?”

“I hadn’t thought that far yet,” you confess, pondering. “But everything’s gone by so fast, hasn’t it? A few months ago I was sort of doing my own thing and now I’m engaged to a guy who hates me.”

Seungkwan looks at you sharply, a peculiar expression on his face. “I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t need to lie to me, you know.”

“I’m being honest,” he insists, taking a step closer to you in earnest. “Was I upset when I found out what happened? Yeah, of course. Was it awkward that that was how we reconnected after a long time apart? Sure. But I can never, in good conscience, say that I hate you.” 

“That is certainly a relief,” is what you come up with after struggling for a few seconds. “Again, I’m really sorry for dragging you into this. At least you can enjoy the status of prince consort-to-be for a while,” you joke.

Seungkwan just frowns. “Y/N, I don’t care about the title. I care about you.”

The abrupt confession catches you off guard, more than you’d like to admit. You don’t know what to say to that, but you believe every word.

“We’ve been friends for so many years,” he continues with a soft smile. “You aren’t just anyone to me.”

Oh, you wish you had a wine glass in your hand right now. You can’t be sober for this, you think, as you return his warm demeanor while a strange feeling settles in your stomach.

“Good to know,” you manage. “That does ease my mind a little.”

“I’m glad.”

Seungkwan’s eyes shine under the moon’s soft glow. It takes you back to when you were a little girl, so hesitantly enamored by him and his heartfelt presence in your life. The wind stings your eyes, blowing away the memory, and then he is asking you if you want to go back inside.

“Go ahead,” you tell him, “I’ll be out in a bit.”

He lingers beside you still, like he’s wondering whether to insist or not. You place a careful hand on his arm.

“I just need a few minutes more of fresh air,” you explain. “I’ll join you soon, I promise.”

Wordlessly, he nods, slipping his jacket off his shoulders and draping it over your own. His fingertips barely graze your skin, but for some reason, you are hyper-aware of it.

“Stay warm,” he says, voice tinged with concern. “Please don’t catch a cold.”

“I won’t.”

“Good.” He smiles again, a sun in the night’s darkness. 

The moment is tender, like if you don’t reach out and grab it, it’ll slip through your fingers. You refrain from saying anything in response as he leaves you to yourself, looking over your shoulder as he walks away.

“Don’t make me fall in love with you,” you murmur softly, but Seungkwan is already gone.

The day Jeonghan returns, there is a downpour from hell.

You’ve been cozying up in your usual nook of the library as it rains outside, curled up in one of the large armchairs with a rather interesting novel in your lap. Engrossed in the pages, you don’t notice anything amiss until you hear a familiar, silvery voice near your ear.

“Miss me yet, Your Highness?”

The sudden greeting almost has you jumping, and your first instinct is to turn around and slam your heavy book into the man’s face.

“Ow!” Jeonghan clutches his nose, face contorted in pain. Seungkwan stands behind him, leaning on a bookshelf and watching the scene with amusement. “What was that for?!”

“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t know it was you!” You rise to your feet, checking him for any signs of serious injury. “You know I have violent reflexes, you knew better than to do that!”

“I come home from war and the first thing you do is attack me?!”

Seungkwan just shrugs from his spot. “Don’t look at me. I told him not to do it.”

“Very helpful,” Jeonghan huffs, poking and prodding at his now swollen nose. “What a warm welcome the two of you are giving me, really, considering how few and far between our reunions are.”

You soften at that, going in for a long overdue hug. He smells of rusted metal and fresh soil, likely from his long time spent on the battlefield. His hair is longer now, tied back and out of his face with a simple cloth string, and he looks a little more weary than last time.

Every time you see him again, he has changed somewhat, but also not quite at all. There will always be that inkling of mischief in his eye until the day he dies.

“So,” Jeonghan says, still nursing his sore nose, “the second I leave the kingdom is when you two decide to get engaged, huh?”

You and Seungkwan exchange a look that’s somewhere between surprise and alarm. He shakes his head ever so slightly, answering the question you didn’t need to ask. 

No, not just yet.

“And you didn’t even write to me!” Jeonghan sulks, giving the two of you a betrayed look. “I can’t believe you had the gall to fall in love and not tell me about it.”

“Um…” You are not quite sure what to say to that, considering it wasn’t what happened at all. “Surprise?”

“Anyway,” he continues, “I’m not so shocked. I knew this was bound to happen at some point.”

“Everyone keeps saying that,” Seungkwan grumbles.

“Because it’s true! Don’t you know that Y/N here used to – Ow! Again?!”

You glare at Jeonghan as he recovers from your swift punch. “Keep your mouth closed and I might not attack you a third time.”

“You are insane,” he scolds you, massaging his arm. “I don’t even see what the problem here is.”

As a last desperate effort, you implore him with pleading eyes to stay silent. He doesn’t look like he understands what’s going on, but he relents anyway, leaving the subject of your childhood crush alone.

“What?” Seungkwan laughs, eyes darting between the both of you. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you blurt out, a little too fast. Jeonghan has to physically look down to conceal the laugh that’s threatening to bubble out of his throat at any moment, and you can tell. “Seungkwan, shouldn’t you be at training right now, anyways?”

“Well, yes, but Jeong–”

One pointed look from you is enough to silence him, it’s almost funny. “Yes ma’am,” he gives in ruefully. “I suppose I’ll see you after I get beat up to the point of exhaustion, then. Visit me on my deathbed.”

“Seungkwan, you’ll be fine.”

After a bit of grumbling, he finally leaves – you wait until he’s out of earshot before fixing Jeonghan with a pointed glare.

“Yoon Jeonghan, you little bastard.”

“Now that is hardly appropriate language for a princess,” he remarks, promptly receiving a well-aimed smack from you.

“I can’t believe you were about to reveal everything just then!”

“Why are you so pressed about it? He’s literally your fiancé!” Jeonghan’s face falls a little at your prolonged silence. “Oh. There is something you’re not telling me.”

“You’re either going to be so mad or you will laugh at me,” you say truthfully.

“I really hope it’s the latter. Please don’t hit me again,” he adds, ready to dodge you. “Alright, what is it?”

“Well, Seungkwan and I…” You wince, trying to word this correctly. “We aren’t actually engaged.”

Jeonghan just stares at you, confused. “What? But you’ve got a ring and everything!”

“I know,” you sigh, absentmindedly fiddling with the golden band, “but it’s all fake.”

He blinks once, then again, still processing. “So there will be no wedding?”

“Nope. We’re planning on calling it off right after Doyun departs.”

“Who’s that?”

“Long story.”

“I have time.”

Where do you even start? The past month and a half has been such a chaotic blur that you don’t know what to begin with. Agitated, you put your head in your hands, tugging at your hair. 

“You’re frustrated,” Jeonghan observes.

“Nice one, genius.”

“You know,” he says conversationally, “I don’t think you would be so upset if you didn’t have any feelings.”

You raise your head, distraught. “Feelings about what?”

Jeonghan gives you a look. “I think you know exactly who I'm talking about.”

His words take no more than a couple of seconds to click, gears shifting in your brain. You pin him with a stern glare.

“I do not like Seungkwan.”

“I didn’t even say it was Seungkwan,” he replies, a mischievous smile playing at his lips.

“But you were thinking it!”

“Well, you are not a psychic.”

A part of you wonders if you should never have confessed to your inconsequential crush all those years ago. After all, it had just been a result of confusing feelings at a young age, when you were just learning what being in love felt like.

But things are different now. You and Seungkwan have comfortably fallen back into your friendship, and it’s as easy as breathing. The last thing you need is old emotions resurfacing and ruining it all.

“That was a long time ago,” you say, not sure if you’re trying to convince Jeonghan or yourself. “It’s not like that anymore. Either way, I’m not sure how often I’ll see him after this whole thing is over.”

“More than you will see me,” he quips. “Really, Y/N, you know that he cares very much about you.”

“He didn’t talk to me when he was away for years,” you sulk.

He’s quiet – you know it’s because you’re right, and neither of you have an explanation for a question only Seungkwan can answer. 

But in the days that follow, Jeonghan’s words echo in your mind. You see Seungkwan less and less; every time you run into him, he seems to have an excuse on the tip of your tongue, and you can’t help but wonder what has happened.

You don’t say anything, though, with fear that you might scare him away if you bring it up. Instead, you leave it be, letting him stay at arm’s length and ignoring the dull ache you feel when he’s not around.

And sometimes, you wonder whether Jeonghan might have been onto something. The idea keeps you up at night, into the hours just before daylight knocks on your window. 

One night in particular has you strangely restless, unable to fall asleep even though the clock reads half past four in the morning. Your room feels awfully stuffy, like you’re cornered into one place, and the sudden need for fresh air overcomes you. Exhausted, you pull on some warmer clothes before slipping into the hall, heading for the gardens near the extensive training grounds.

You used to come here all the time when you were younger, too, always your safe haven. There is something about being surrounded by nature that puts you at ease. Like now, as you settle in your spot on the bench, chin in the palm of your hand.

However, your peace is abruptly interrupted at the sound of careful footsteps. You turn, and grimace at the sight of your unwelcome visitor. 

“It seems quite unsafe for a young woman to be out alone at this time,” Doyun says, approaching you slowly. 

“The palace is fairly secure, sir,” you reply curtly. “I wonder what you are doing roaming around before the sun is even up.”

“I am set to depart at dawn,” he informs you, taking a seat as well. Instinctively, you move over to put space between you and him. 

“Then I wish you a safe journey.”

There is an uncanny, knowing smile on his face. “Although, I might not need to leave so soon,” he drawls, “if I still have the opportunity to fulfill what I originally came here for.”

Your heart drops to your stomach. “What are you talking about?”

“I have to admit, you and your friend play the part of a happy couple amusingly well. Almost had me fooled,” he says. “But every act has a weak link.”

“Sir, this isn’t what you think it is –”

“Oh, but it’s exactly that. And it was a smart plan, too. It’s such a shame you couldn’t see it through.”

You fold in on yourself, somewhat of a shield against the early morning breeze. “What are you trying to say?”

“Just that your father might appreciate a heads up about your little arrangement.” The expression he’s wearing fills you with dread. “Don’t you think he deserves to know what’s happening under his nose?”

“Nothing is happening,” you reiterate. “Don’t involve yourself in things that do not require your input.”

“Does this not involve me?” he asks incredulously, shifting closer. “I’ve traveled all this way only to be abruptly shoved aside for a farce. Do you not think it’s unfair?”

You open your mouth to retaliate, but you’re beat to it.

“Get up.”

Seungkwan is, for lack of a better word, seething. His face is pulled into that serious frown he wears whenever he’s particularly displeased. You stand slowly, slightly confused as to how he knew you were here.

“No, not you,” he says, eyes softening as they flicker over to you for just a second. “Do I have to tell you twice? Get up.”

Doyun rises to his feet, a tiny smirk playing on his lips. “Is that how you speak to your guests?”

“Yes. Particularly those who wear out their welcome.” 

The tension is thick in the air. The feeling of being caught red-handed has somewhat settled, but you have no way of knowing what’s going to happen next.

“And who are you to tell me what to do?” Doyun snickers. “You are just a soldier boy with nothing to your name.”

“He’s much more than that,” you say sharply, “and I pity your ignorance to the fact.”

“Come on, Y/N –”

“That’s my fiancée you’re talking to. You will address her properly,” Seungkwan cuts in. His voice is harsh, and his anger is evident through the glare he’s currently sporting. “You are not fit to even speak her name.”

Caught up in the conversation, you hadn’t realized how much time has passed, but the first few rays of sunlight are beginning to peek out over the horizon. It’s getting a little warmer now, the gardens bathed in the minimal sunshine. 

Doyun just shakes his head. “You two are impossible to reason with,” he says. “If you cannot clearly see how bad of an idea this is, Your Highness, then I suppose I will have to cut my losses. But don’t expect any sort of cooperation if you find yourself running back.”

“Fine by me,” you snap, tired of the conversation already..

It’s almost comical, the way that he walks away with a vindictive air about him. You don’t even clock the sigh of relief you let out when his silhouette disappears in the morning fog, sinking back into the wooden bench.

“Are you okay?” Seungkwan takes the first hesitant step towards you, then another. You just scowl up at him in annoyance.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook,” you say menacingly. “I can’t believe you’ve been avoiding me for so long and this is how you resurface again.”

“I wasn’t –”

“Please, Seungkwan, I’ve had a long day and the sun is barely even up yet.” You rub your temples, a headache already starting to form. “How did you find me, anyway?”

“You’re always here.” He says it simply, like it’s just a fact of life. “I saw you on my way to the training grounds, but you weren’t alone, so I just wanted to see what was going on,” he grimaces, “and I’m glad I did.”

“Right,” you mutter. “I hope pretending to care about me has made you feel infinitely better about yourself.”

Seungkwan frowns. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me.”

“How many times do I need to tell you that I don’t hate you until you finally believe me?” He looks at you pleadingly, but what exactly he’s asking of you, you can’t really tell. “Do you honestly think I would have played along all this time if I disliked you at all?”

“Seungkwan, I’m tired.” You put your head in your hands, overwhelmed. “Doyun will be gone in a couple of hours, so you can pull out of this anytime you want.”

“Y/N –”

“Please.”

It’s ironic how even through your various disagreements it’s easy to understand each other’s unfinished sentences. Seungkwan releases a pained exhale.

“Fine,” he says softly. “We’ll talk later.”

A part of you feels guilty that no matter how much time or space you’ve needed, he has always been ready to give it to you, and all you do is take. Maybe after a few hours’ rest you’ll feel up to speaking to him again, you think, watching his retreating figure with a dull ache in your chest. 

The sun is up, and the morning dew is long gone. You have no choice but to face another day.

“You’re the biggest idiot to ever walk this earth.”

Those had been Yoon Jeonghan’s parting words to you. You felt like you might cry as you hugged him tightly, hoping he’d carry the fond memories through the next several months he would be away. Seungkwan had stood a little behind the two of you, just out of earshot, though you knew he was trying not to tear up, too.

“You might be right,” you mumbled, eyes on the ground. “It’s all going to crash and burn, and then he and I will never speak again.”

“Well, you never know. But if you don’t do anything about it, I will personally come find you and hunt you down.” Jeonghan chuckled, a tiny twinkle in his eye. “When I come back, you better have married the man for real.”

“Jeonghan!”

He had just laughed, ruffling your hair affectionately. “Trust me, Your Highness. I have a good sixth sense about these things.”

That had been several hours ago, and your last real conversation with Seungkwan was even further in the past. 

Things had gotten busy, and between the days that whirled by the two of you hadn’t properly talked. And it stings, knowing the distance between you and your best friend is slowly growing, but you don’t even know if he wants to hear from you right now.

There are so many things you want to say and not enough words. The emotions dance on the tip of your tongue, but no further. But for how long now?

No. 

You toss your book aside in frustration. Enough of the constant restlessness and anxiety; you can’t keep living like this, you realize, hoarding all the things you feel in your brain. The sudden burst of courage has you on your feet, nearly sprinting to your door.

When you open it, Seungkwan is already standing there.

“Oh,” you blurt out. His arm is still raised to the door, as if he was just about to knock, and his feet are frozen to the ground in front of you. He looks a little disheveled, like he’s been running. “Come in?”

Seungkwan hesitates for just a second before following you through the doorway. “Thank you,” he says gently. “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.”

“No, you weren’t,” you say, sitting on the edge of your bed. “Did you need something?”

There is a moment’s silence. The words he hasn’t said yet hang suspended in the air, and you wait for them apprehensively.

“I figured we should come out with the truth now,” he says slowly, eyes darting everywhere but you. “You know, now that there aren’t any more reasons not to.”

You can’t put a name to the rush of emotion in your body. You should be relieved right now. Why aren’t you? A deep trepidation fills you instead, settling in your bones, but you don’t dare to put your finger on the reason behind it. 

“Right,” you say curtly. “We probably should.”

Seungkwan sighs, the exhaustion evident in his rounded shoulders. He pulls the stool he’s sitting on closer to you, placing a comforting hand on your wrist.

“It’s for the best,” he assures you. “You heard what Baek Doyun said that day.”

You’re already shaking your head before he finishes the sentence. “No, Seungkwan, he’s wrong.”

“You deserve every good thing in this universe,” he tells you, “every beautiful moment that exists in time. But I can’t give that to you, no matter how much I wish I could, and it hurts to be near you when it’s all so very impossible.”

Your breath catches in your throat at the honest, tender words. “What are you saying?”

Seungkwan smiles ruefully. “I am just the son of a soldier, Y/N. I have nothing more to offer you than the blood on my hands.”

“That is not true,” you say earnestly. “If it were, you know my father would never have agreed to all of this.”

“I don’t care about your father’s approval!” The words leave his mouth with a burst of frustration that surprises you. “The only opinion I choose to worry about is yours. You have to know that.”

“Why?”

The look in his eyes is one you could never forget – it’s vulnerable, with a hint of something else you can’t quite place. It scares and exhilarates you at the same time.

“Please don’t make me answer that question,” he whispers softly, mere inches from your face.

Something propels you to reach forward wordlessly, your hands gently cradling Seungkwan’s face. Come here, your fingertips say. Let me heal you. Come home.

Slowly, carefully, you bring your mouth to his. It’s everything one would think it shouldn’t be — hesitant, nerve wracking — but it’s right. 

When you pull away, he’s looking at you in awe.

“You just kissed me,” he says incredulously.

You reach for him, taking his hand in yours. It’s calloused and rough, and yet it feels just right against your own smooth palm.

“If the only thing you can give me is the blood on your hands,” you murmur, “then I gladly accept.”

For all of the next few seconds, Seungkwan does not move. And then, you feel his fingers encircling your wrist, his other hand coming up to carefully hold the back of your neck.

The kiss is both searing and soothing, somehow. He tastes faintly of tangerines, the citrus flavor tangy on your mouth, and his lips are impossibly soft as they move against yours. You could freeze time and stay here forever, you think, in the arms of a man who knows you like it’s the only way home. It’s something strangely akin to heaven on earth.

“I hope you meant every second of that,” you tell him, when you come up for air.

Seungkwan smiles — a bright, gorgeous thing that could put even the sun to shame. 

“Every second,” he answers. It’s a promise. “Every moment in time. For as long as you will let me.”

Dear Jeonghan,

You will be elated to know that I am no longer the idiot you proclaimed I was. Sure, I was being a little stupid, but aren’t we all sometimes? And you can’t say you aren’t, because I have many stories to prove you wrong.

In other news, Seungkwan and I have called off our engagement. For the time being, at least. We wanted to have some time to just be, you know? Take this relationship at our own pace, and make up for all the lost time we had spent dancing around each other instead. It turns out we were equally apprehensive about our feelings and ended up avoiding each other for weeks on end, can you believe that? 

Actually, you probably can. I bet you knew how he felt this whole time, you devil.

You know, I was a little afraid to tell Father and Seungcheol the truth, but they were quite understanding about it. It feels lighter now, too, without this secret to carry. You were right.

It’s summer now, and most everything seems right with the world. Only thing left is having you back here — Seungkwan will never say it to your face, but he complains about missing you nearly every day, as do I. 

Anyways, I’ll try and keep this short. Come back safely, okay? When Seungkwan and I do eventually start planning our wedding, we want you to be there for it. It wouldn’t be the same without you.

Okay, I will really leave you to it this time. Write us back when you can; it is always wonderful to hear from you.

Lots of love, 

Y/N (and Seungkwan!)

if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading, your support means a lot to me! much love, ashi xx

[object-show-opinions]

how do you feel about pin in bfdia? :3

*neck snaps* is that an excuse to talk about my favorite character of all time I hear!?

Pin, Pin, Pin, Pin, Pin, Pin. How the mighty have fallen.

This gets to be a little complex, so I’m going to start at BFDI, where everything began.

A thing I noticed from even the first episode is that Pin isn’t very observant, like, at all. She doesn’t seem to be purposefully mean, she just does what she wants even if people get mad.

She seems especially oblivious to the other objects’ opinions of her. Despite being the leader, and very confident in her abilities, the others are happy when she gets out, and Pin is hurt. This, I feel, leads into her realizing that no one really likes her. She’s been pushing people away, and hasn’t been a true leader, and she wants to be a good leader, even if she doesn’t seem to look like it.

So BFDIA happens, and Team No-Name immediately kick her out. While this does lead to her meeting Coiny and becoming best friends, this still does affect her.

We see again how she doesn’t really think of the consequences of her actions with how she accidentally stabs Puffball Speaker Box. While she was trying to kill Leafy, she doesn’t really understand why Puffball took her limbs, and she begins to feel betrayed.

Like she’s doing something wrong.

It must have gotten even worse when she lost her face. I think she was still conscious, so she was just feeling alone. Her team ignored her and mocked her, and her best friend called her useless. Despite the care Coiny gave to her later when she shrunk, there’s another important piece of her personality.

Pin’s a fighter, and someone who isn’t very optimistic. She doesn’t see what she’s doing wrong, how her actions lead to people disliking her. She wants to do something about it, so when she gets her mech suit, she wants revenge.

But it’s not enough.

Everything still does affect her. She isn’t happy with just BFDIA 14, she needs to win. She needs to show them that she hasn’t forgotten what she did.

But she keeps losing people. And the team that was built from the ground up, from just Coiny, Pin, and Donut, was now nothing, which coalesced into the disbandment of Woah Bunch.

There was one last thing Pin did that I haven’t seen most people notice. She’s sad, she wants to find a way to keep working with Coiny, but he leaves her immediately. This is the true last straw. In Pin’s mind, this proves everything right. No one truly cares for her, so she has to fight on her own, because she can trust nobody.

She has to win to prove everyone wrong.

And so she pushes away those who cared about her, because she doesn't think they’re worthy, and on a deeper level, doesn’t think she’s worthy. She wasn’t able to lead, not even be a true friend. So she just fights for herself and no one else, since there’s no other option.

Can you tell a really like Pin-

Sorry for the wait! I hope you enjoyed my analysis!

Also, requests are still open! I analyze characters, ships, and lots of different object shows. I also just do art of the characters if you’d prefer that!

[earlysunshines]

secret rhymes - 53. just the two of us (written)

a/n: i have not written in ten years oh my

aside from being lost on the last song of your album, your life has been pretty great.

you and hanni have been talking more. it started with a few calls after the night you both cleared the air, soft check-ins that slowly turned into long conversations stretching past midnight about anything, everything, and nothing. sometimes you'd be fine just listening to the occasional hum or breath that gets caught on facetime, and that's enough for both of you.

occasionally you'd regret staying up past midnight—the groans in the morning and the slight headache always make you second-guess calling so late. but you like exchanging small updates on what's new; you tell her about a song you've been stuck on, and she tells you about an embarassing trainee moment she still hasn't lived down.

(you nearly snort, "you cursed at the evaluator?"

"i wasn't trying to! i just- ugh! i saw her for the next monthly evaluation and it was so... grueling..."

hanni catches your toothy cackle and the way you fall on your bed from how hilarious her story is, which makes her eyes soften. she falters for a moment, not that you notice, but it's a tidal wave in crashing in her heart.

"you're so cute, it's crazy. i'd kill to go back in time and witness you do that again."

"you're the worst person i know."

"sure, pham." you snicker. there it is, that shake of your head through the screen that leaves hanni a little weak. something churns in her stomach and it has her hoping you feel the same way she does.)

you don't even realize how often you've been seeing hanni until yunjin teases you for showing up to hybe under the pretense of "visiting her," when it's obvious your feet are already turning toward newjeans' practice room.

it's become kind of a joke—"how's my name still the excuse when i'm the one getting ten-minute visits?" yunjin grins. you roll your eyes but don't deny it.

you and hanni have a rhythm now. sometimes, she's still in rehearsal when you arrive—her schedule has been quite packed with her upcoming comeback—and you'll wait outside her room with her favorite tea, leaning against the wall while listening to the muffled beat thumping from inside. she'll spot you through the mirror and beam mid-dance, cheeks flushed, waving with one hand while mouthing something like "wait a bit!"

other times, she's already waiting for you after you've blessed yunjin with your ten-minute-long visits. she's usually perched on a bench in the hall with a sly smile, saying, "took you long enough," even though you're the one who texted on my way minutes prior.

once, she grabbed the end of your hoodie as you passed by just to say, "you look really good today," before flashing a smile that takes your breath away momentarily and disappearing around the corner like nothing had happened. it's not difficult for her to leave you standing alone in the halls with your heart skipping a beat and a grin on your face.

it's been a few months, but little moments make it seem like you've known hanni much longer. a brush of her fingers against yours when she hands you her phone. her shoulders bumping into yours as you walk down the corridor, neither of you bothering to move away. a laugh too soft, a glance that lingers a second longer than it should. you haven't labeled anything, not like you would dare to, but the air between you thickens with the tension from what you two are way too scared to admit.

more than friends, less than lovers, and together two people who are too scared to do anything about it.

you're finished with all the communication that was needed to organize a music video shooting, and only one song is left to finish up your album. there's a lot of stress from all the preparation and technical stuff, but it would've been way worse without the daily texts and calls from hanni.

the past month after settling things, you've filmed music videos, tweaked a few songs here and there, and of course tried your best to finish your last track.

hanni has also let you know that she's been pretty stressed herself with preparing for her own comeback. she rambles on about how she's iffy on one song's choreo because it's far from her style, but you make sure to let her know she's going to do great. you two are each other's rock.

after the last day of shooting your title track, you barely make it to your bed before collapsing face-first into the comforter, limbs heavy and sore from the music video shoot (which required much more physical activity than you thought it would).

it's quiet—yujin's been staying with her girlfriend every other day, so it leaves you alone some nights—but the sound of your phone buzzing somewhere in your jacket sleeve breaks the silence. you fish it out, sighing tiredly before you light up at the sight of hanni's name glowing on the screen with a simple: home yet?

you text back a lazy "yeah, just got here," and almost instantly, she calls. you flip the phone on, speaking and drop it beside your head, setting the back of one hand on your forehead as you stare up at the ceiling. you're tired, tired enough to where you can't really budge, but not too (or ever) tired to hear her voice.

she asks how you are, you do the same with all your energy, and there it goes—the conversation flows easily.

"minji knocked off danielle's claw clip by accident during practice today," hanni says, tone warm and amused. "it like, flew across the room! danielle looked so betrayed, she was soooo dramatic, i love her so bad. we laughed for like five minutes straight, i swear my abs were forming."

a tired laugh escaped your lips. "i'm glad you guys had fun."

there's a littel pause, and then hanni's voice softens. "you sound tired."

"yeah... physically," you murmur. your gaze blurs over the ceiling as your mind wanders. "but other than that i'm just..." you train off for a second before adding, "i've been wanting to see you more. not in hallways or between practices when i visit. just—like, you and i. no one else. i think i miss that."

the line goes quiet and you think for a second the call might've dropped. have you said too much? you must be way too tired—

hanni's soft inhale interrupts your spiral. "you can't just say that out of nowhere," hanni says, her voice quieter than usual, laced with surprise.

a sleepy smile tugs at your lips. "sorry, but i do mean it." you exhale slowly, smiling to yourself. "do you think you can sneak out? we don't even have to do anything. i just want to be somewhere else, together."

there's silence again, but not the bad kind. you swear you can hear a smile in her voice when she responds, "if you're asking then... yeah."

it's just five minutes past eleven when you find yourself jogging down the dim sidewalk toward hanni's dorm, hoodie flapping behind you while you hold onto your cap. there wasn't a clear plan, just that you'd be at her place, and here you are.

waiting by her building at this hour felt more peaceful than anything else had in weeks.

she slips out minutes later in a hoodie and slides, the soft sound of her laugh cutting through the silence when she sees you. "you look like you just ran here."

"maybe because i did, idiot." you say, out of breath, matching her smile as you both start to walk down the street side by side.

the convenience store is still open, a small space of flickering fluorescent lights and soft american pop on the radio. you wander in, grabbing a bag of coffee and a cup of ice to put it in, then pay quickly.

"seriously?" hanni raises a brow. "you're gonna dose yourself with caffeine at this hour?"

you shrug, pouring it into the cup without a care. "grandma, it's the only thing keeping me up."

she snorts. "grandma? i'm the one keeping you alive."

"caffeine at night won't kill me, loser."

"maybe i will before it does." she says, earning a snicker from you in response.

eventually, the two of you stumble upon a little playground tucked between apartment buildings, empty except for the creak of the swings and the rustle of tree leaves planted nearby. both of you climb up the platform of the jungle gym, legs dangling, shoulders brushing. it's quiet there, peaceful, with only the slight hum from the city around you.

for a while, you just talk about whatever. work. music. hanni tells you about a weird dream she had the night before about a haunted sink. you tell her about the time you accidentally went live with toothpaste on your chin. you guys both giggle, and it's light, easy. but then the conversation dips to romance in regards to the album you've been working on.

"do you think you'll ever fall in love?" she asks, her voice soft now.

the question hits you like a bullet train. you exhale through your nose, looking up at the sky. "after lauren... i kind of gave up on it for a while, but it was easy to romanticize stuff, especially as an artist." you begin, leaning back more comfortably as you sip on your coffee. "i got tired of believing in it the more that relationship went on, i think."

she hums, barely nodding, but you can feel her listening.

"but..." you tilt your head to look at her. she's already looking at you and the moon casts a slight glow in her eyes. "then this girl came into my life out of nowhere, literally. she's annoyingly good at everything, pretty, genuine, and i think of her all the time now. i don't know... it's hard not to be in love with someone like her." your eyes flicker toward her, catching the soft surprise written across her face. "really hard, actually."

there's a stillness between you and hanni now—not awkward, but delicate.

"what about you?" you ask quietly, eyes on hers as you swallow lightly. "have you ever been in love or anything like that...?"

hanni hums, thoughtful. "i don't think so," she says after a moment. "i never had time to htink about stuff like that. crushes came and went, and they were... nice, i guess. fleeting. but nothing like this." her voice dips softer at the end, barely legible.

you make sure you're not making things up in your head. "nothing like what?"

now you two are staring at each other—your eyes are slightly widened from surprise and hanni's can't decide whether they should stay on your lips or eyes. she turns her head slightly, meeting your gaze in the dim glow of a streetlamp filtered through the trees.

"nothing like how i feel right now," she confesses, "with you."

there's a pause. like the wind holds its breath and the world freezes completely.

"i think about you all the time, even when i try not to. when i'm busy, tired, or when i'm supposed to be focused on something else—you're still there in my mind. and that's never happened before."

you stare at her, heart loud in your chest, loud enough that you swear she must hear it.

"hanni," you shift a little closer, shoulder pushing into hers ever so slightly. "i really like you."

you two gulp simultaneously as your bodies shift to face each other a bit more.

with more certainty, you continue, "i've tried to talk myself out of it a hundred times. told myself it wasn't a good idea, or that you wouldn't feel the same, but..." you exhale, a small laugh escaping in an attempt to calm your pounding heart. "for the past month's there's been nothing on my mind but you. just you. always you."

stillness settles in the gap between you two, the gap that decreases with each second as your faces inch closer.

and then she leans in—slow, hesitant, but sure—and you meet her halfway. the kiss is gentle and cautious as you two test the waters. her lips are warm, soft, and they taste like the strawberry tea she had earlier.

you deepen the kiss and it feels like exhaling after holding your breath too long. it's less careful now, something familiar like you were meant to kiss her like this. her hand settles on your neck just under your jawline and you swear you melt.

she pulls back, but not far. her nose brushes against yours as she settles her other hand on your jawline, her thumb just by your ear. her touch is warm, you'd let her hold you like that for as long as she'd like.

"i've wanted to do that for a while," she whispers.

"me too," you smile, a little dazed. "i like this a lot."

your hand snakes to the back of her neck, pulling her in for another kiss. you feel her smile into you, and you do the exact same.

masterlist ; previous - next

taglist ! @namojoon @ly-gushka @layonaiguess @artrizzler19 @yerimbrit @sixflame438 @nwjnsloona @saysirhc @nimnia @somedaydream @trovao-penguins @modanisgf @c-yerim @starstruckgoateepuppy @tzuyusdoughnut @kaypanaq @peranoo @haerinkisser @electronicluminarycoffee @yoohtonyy @secretcessy @keiji-jin @awkwardtoafault @syronns @linnnsworld @inybits @ynwrites @wonyoungssi

[little-pup-pip]

i remember u posting a thing where it shows all the requests you haven't done yet. I just want to see as I requested something long ago in 2023. I'm not trying to seem pushy, I'm just curious!

(this was rhe person that requested a bugbo thing)

Here you go!! This is very long, so I put the list under the cut!

These are the requests sent after I stopped accepting them that I didn't delete for various reasons. If you sent in a request after I closed them on March 14th and don't see it here, you'll need to send a new one (please don't take it personally if I deleted it)!!

Black + squirrel

Asra (the arcana)

Shurara (keroro gunsou)

Ring tailed lemur

Buzz light-year

Rottweiler

Yellow raccoon petre

Lionel Messi

Sonic the hedgehog

Light pink and blue bunnies

Middle school gym class

Jenny wakeman (my life as a teenage robot)

Chris Kratt (wild Kratts)

Yuri (doki doki literature club)

Cole (Lego Ninjago)

Crowley (good omens)

Stingray

Prince + bunnies

CG vil (twisted wonderland)

Alt + Wolf-dog

Golden retriever

Hobbes (Calvin and Hobbes)

Kipo (kipo and the age of wonderbeasts, I think)

Leif (my inner demons)

Little big planet 3

Clouds + pastel blue

Outdoorsy + animals

Sun and stars + bunnies

Chase (paw patrol, I actually have two of these waiting)

Cinnamoroll

Eastern red bat

Octopus regression

Tiger CG

Aquarium trip

Pastel coloring + kitties

lavender/grey bunnies

Pastel dolls

Jumping spiders/Leopard geckos

Dr. animo (ben 10)

Shuichi saihara

Black Shiba inu

This is everything left from before I closed my requests!

Osamu dazai (bsd)

Flutist

The dazzlings (equestria girls)

Vampire with Halloween themes

Guardians of ga'hoole

Gromsko (MW2/3)

V (murder drones)

Cg SD-N (murder drones)

Cassidy (overwatch) and cowboys

TMNT Leonardo

Ranboo

Pastel kitty

Lackadaisy

Epithet erased

Another OC named cerys

Pikmin

Slay the princess

Someone's pictures (Idk what to call this one just know that I'm going to do it)

The Magnus protocol

Bive (regretavator)

Donnie darko

Megamind

Jake Peralta (Brooklyn nine nine)

Allister (pokemon)

Umi (idk from where I'll figure it out eventually)

Rottweiler puppy and the creek

Monster tom (eddsworld)

Gnarpy (regretavator)

Xianzhao loufu (hsr)

Cg jing yuan (hsr)

Cupcake and dino

Kitty petre pomni (tadc)

Shiromo (pui pui molcar)

Jack harkness (doctor who)

Pettoism

Cg basil hallward (the picture of Dorian gray)

Cats

Spiderman (again! lol)

Mei (Lego monkie kid)

Cats + cakes

Houndoom (pokemon)

Wolfwalkers from cartoon saloon

Lucifer (hazbin hotel)

Critterspace (drafts)

Minecraft lush caves (drafts)

Ibara saegusa

Llewellyn Watts (Murdoch Mysteries)

Jake (trailer park warlock, drafts)

Cult of the lamb (pet dreaming themed)

Tubbo

Cassie (fnaf: ruin)

Black kitten + space

Grey draik (neopets)

Pumpkin head (still needs more research)

Someone's OC Avery & siblings

Maki harukawa

Brown, lime green and forest green puppy

Dylan (the magic roundabout)

Zombies

Vincent (dead plate)

Osamu dazai (bungo stray dogs, drafts)

Vision CG (marvel, drafts)

Light blue

Bearded vulture

Mind (Chonny Jash/CCCC)

Seam CG (deltarune)

John Constantine (Justice League Dark)

Keralis (Hermitcraft, maybe)

Tula tones (novi stars, drafts)

Eevee + dragons (or witchy themes which I may do instead)

Kitten + stars (I think, the request actually says stairs though and it's been confusing me)

Mushrooms

Grey + Ross federman youtooz (drafts)

Boyfriend.xml (Friday night funkin')

Puppet (fnaf)

Genshin impact (drafts)

Eddsworld

Karako Pierot (hiveswap)

Scorpion

Border Collie

Mortal Kombat

Puppy + SpongeBob (drafts)

Baby vulture (drafts)

Rain world/slugcat (drafts)

Border Collie

Modded smash hit rooms

Crying child (fnaf)

Agent Smith CG (the matrix)

Rolfe DeWolfe CG (Rockafire Explosion)

Slime rancher

Puppet (fnaf)

Parado (Kamen Rider)

Tally hall

Rockabilly (probably)

Felix Lee

Charles Xavier CG (X-Men)

Naoto Shirogane (persona 4, drafts)

Kitoto

17th century dutch (drafts)

Sees behind trees (drafts)

Allay (Minecraft, I think. Drafts)

Tasmanian devil (drafts, can't figure out if they want the cartoon or animal)

Spamton CG (deltarune, drafts)

Grunge + lop eared bunnies (drafts)

Yume-Nikki (drafts)

Daxter (jak and daxter, drafts)

Madness combat for puppies (drafts)

James Sunderland (silent Hill, drafts)

Shirokuma (Danganronpa, drafts)

Leo (IDW comic, drafts)

[clockwise-works]

Sega Forever is actually such a fucking scam on God. For those who don't know, back in the day around 2011 they released Sonic CD on mobile, and then Sonic 1 and 2 in 2015ish. These were paid purchases, about 2-3 bucks each. Apparently, a few years back they rolled out this Sega Forever rebrand, which made all the games free!!! ...with ads. Now the games HAVE to have an internet connection at all times, and will play ads at literally every moment they can. Start the game? Ad. Died? Ad. Game over? Ad. Beat a level? Ad. Fucking PAUSE? Ad. You gets ads BEFORE EVEN STARTING THE DAMN GAME.

But hey! You can pay to remove the ads! And even better, if you owned the paid version before Sega Forever, you can reinstate your original version! Horay! Simple navigate to the Google Play button at the top button, sign into the account you made the purchase on, and then your good to go! So I boot up Sonic 2 to do just that.

"Unable to connect to Google Play Services"

FUCK.

Ok so I mess around with my Google Play account. Clear my cache, my data, sign out, sign in, all the works. ...it doesn't work.

...OK, that's odd. Luckily, I had bought Sonic 1, CD, 4 ep.1 and 2 back in the day, lemme just test those too.

"Unable to connect to Google Play Services"

So now I'm lost. EVERY Sega Forever game having the same issue? OK, let me download some other paid game I bought years back and see if it connects to Google Play. So I'm scrolling and scrolling, looking for a game I've bought that was also still available. And after some time I find two! So two quick installs later and I boot them up...

Connects without any issue. OK, so it's a Sega issue. And at this point, I'm giving up. The whole injecting ads into 30 year old games to the degree they did is already bad, but it not even functioning properly?!?! This is a fucking scam, I can SEE them in my purchase history!

[starstruckbich]

getting caught listening in ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

summary: vi knows you've been listening in on her.

tags: 18+ mdni men dni dom!vi, sub! reader, listening in, teasing, fingering, vi eating reader out, reader riding vi's face, soft!vi.

note: as usual, life is absolutely kicking my ass like WHAT THE FUCK uhm anyways im back to writing. im praying for this week to go by fast so i can get a break oh LAWD.

You feel gross. But also extremely good.

At first it was annoying, hearing every scream, every moan through thin paper walls at your shared dorm with Vi. Every time she brought a girl over, you would lose hours of sleep, again and again and again.

It's either the girl Vi is fucking moaning at the top of her lugs or Vi herself whining like a bitch. It left you so angry, but you never confronted her, because who actually has the balls to go to your dorm mate and say "hey would you quit having sex so fucking loud?".

You would rather just put on some headphones and call it a day.

Until that damn week came. That week before your period when you just want to fuck everyone and everything. It's specifically worse for you, for some reason.

So when you go to get a glass of water in the middle of the night and the sounds start once again, your body can't even get annoyed. Especially because this time, Vi didn't close the door all the way, leaving a creak open.

"a-ah! oh! oh fuck~!" looks like Vi was getting fucked that time.

So every single time, from that day. You lean agaisnt her door, touching yourself, listening to her filthy moans. Except one time, you actually moan a tad bit too loud. You don't think anyone noticed, since they didn´t stop.

But Vi knows. And god you can't even imagine how thrilled she is. She does EVERYTHING extra loud, moaning, whining, crying, grunting, begging, cumming. Everything.

But a problem comes up. Her usual hookup girlie hasn't had time for her, ignoring her texts and calls. So she is practically posessed, obviously more pent up. She resorts to just touching herself that night, moaning loudly. But it's just not enough. She needs someone, and right now, the nearest person to her is you.

You were so focused on making yourself feel good, layed down on your stomach and playing with your pretty clit, that you didn't even hear the heavy steps coming towards your bedroom door.

Suddenly your door slams open, causing your eyes to widen and your hand to move away from that sweet spot. oh no. you're totally going to get fucking humiliated, torn to shreds and get called a pervert. your life is over.

"Vi-" Your voice is shaky and ridiculously breathy. it's almost a cry, your mind trying to come up with some sort of excuse.

But before you can, Vi is already pouncing on the bed, turning you over, tongue entertwining with yours in a matter of seconds, muscular, tattooed arms locking your body in a cage as you cry into her mouth, almost as if saying "what the fuck is going on".

One of her hands trails down to your panties, fingers going underneath them and slipping in your pussy so easily that it makes you want to die of embarassment.

You pull away from her mouth, yelling. "fuck!! oh- ah! w-wait, i dont-"

Your heartbeat has skyrocketed in a matter of seconds, feeling Vi's thick fingers heat that sweet, sweet spot you love so much when you listen to her getting fucked. Except this time it's her fingers.

"Vi what is going on?" it's such a cute cry you let out, making her moan in your ear.

"oh just didn't to make you- hah... upset that my hookup didn't show up." she laughs. oh. so she has known huh.

you can't help but feel guilty, despite OBVIOUSLY knowing now that Vi clearly isn't bothered. "im sorry, im really sorry..." you cry out, spreading your legs further for her.

"trust me, don't be." she laughs, huffing into your ear. "yeah thats right just... spread your legs... yeah..." she groans, the pace of her fingers making you squirm and moan so loud that you get why the other girls weren't quiet at all.

your pussy clenches around her fingers, wet noises coming out, your body arching closer to her.

"you're so cute...so pretty, touching yourself because of me. do you like what you hear, hm?" Vi whispers into your ear, earning a frantic nod from you.

She kisses your temple "is it better hearing it up close? feeling it?" Teasing tone. Of course, just the right atittude to make your eyes roll back.

"fuck, please! just a little bit faster! oh-!" great, you're already begging, body twitching in a matter of minutes.

But Vi isn't done with you.

How many minutes has it been. Maybe a half an hour already. Vi's tongue lappig up at your cunt, tongue sliding in and out over and over again. god she gives great head, it makes you want to cum into her mouth right then and there.

you let out those " hm hm hm" sounds, biting your bottom lip so hard, head falling back, a blissed expression on your face.

"hmm... hmf... who does this pussy belong to, mmh...?" vi says, voice breathy and ugh every time she speaks your body feels like it's about to fall apart.

"yours vi, it's yours..." you say, rocking your hips. you pray that girl never answers her texts again. you'd rather have her tongue on you instead.

"good girl, fuck, you taste so sweet..." she spreads your legs further if thats even possible, kissing at your needy bundle of nerds as your hips chase her tongue. "you could have just asked me for this, you know..."

you wish you could answer, but your mouth just elts out repeated whines, moans or whatever you're screaming. next time you want her to fucking rail you, and you would let her if it wasn't so late. there is one thing you have the courage to ask though.

"can i ride your face- mh-please?" and how can she say no when you ask so nicely?

Now you're sat on her face, hips rolling agaisnt her mouth, letting out sweet sounds, not so animalistic anymore, not because you're not turned on, but because she handles you so good that you're getting tired. you feel heat pooling up even more below your belly, seeing Vi just eat the fuck out of you. literally.

her hands grip your hips, eyes opening ocasionally to look at you eye to eye and kiss your pussy sweetly. you let out one final, strangled moan, hips twitching, white liquid dripping into her tongue as your head lolls to the side.

she sucks your sweet nectar up, seeing you hold onto the bed frame, smiling at how cute you look when you're tired.

she caresses your ass, kissing your clit a few times before making you hop off her face and lay down on top of her.

"satisfied, pretty girl?"

"yes...."

[missdynamighttt]

sigh... bf! katsuki wasn’t the type to let anyone get away with slacking off, especially not you.

he’d been noticing the way you’d been procrastinating, pushing everything to the last minute. he didn’t mind when you were distracted sometimes, but when it became a pattern? hell no.

one afternoon, you were sprawled out on the couch, phone in hand, scrolling mindlessly through social media when katsuki marched in, clearly fed up.

"oi," he growled, standing over you with his arms crossed. "the hell do you think you’re doing?"

you looked up, giving him a tired smile. "just taking a break, katsuki. i’ll get back to it soon."

"bullshit," he snapped, his fiery eyes locking onto you. "you've been taking breaks all day. what’s your excuse this time?"

you sighed, sitting up. "i don’t know. i.. can’t get into it. my brain’s just all over the place."

he walked over to the couch, sitting down beside you and giving you a quick, pointed look. "you’ve been wasting time for hours. you know that, right? if you keep this shit up, you’re gonna be behind."

you shook your head, feeling a little guilty. "i know... i just don’t feel.. motivated."

katsuki’s gaze softened, but there was still an edge to it. "i get it, okay? you’re tired, you’re stressed, but you can’t let this shit slide. you’re smarter than this. you know that."

he leaned in a bit, his voice growing lower, almost like a challenge. "so you’re gonna sit here and waste your potential? huh? is that what you’re gonna do?"

you paused, your mind racing. he was right. you were better than procrastinating, better than letting your goals slip away. katsuki knew how to light a fire under your ass, even without trying too hard.

"fine," you muttered, getting up from the couch. "i’ll study."

"good," he huffed, giving your shoulder a quick shove. "get your shit together. and when you’re done, i’ll reward you. but don’t think you’re getting anything until i see results."

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile creeping onto your face. katsuki may have been rough around the edges, but he always knew how to push you in the right direction.

you hummed, flipping through your notes. "what's the reward, anyway?"

his grin was downright evil. "wouldn't you like to know?"

the next few hours were grueling. every time you lost focus, you’d catch katsuki’s gaze burning into you, silently daring you to slack off. and every time you did, his voice would cut through like a knife.

"oi. focus."

"don't even think about picking up your phone."

"you got five more pages. don’t quit now."

it was relentless, but it worked. you were powering through more than you had in the past few days combined. and admittedly? it was kind of hot seeing how serious he was about you succeeding.

eventually, you slammed your textbook shut, sighing dramatically.

"alright. i'm done. can i get my reward now?"

katsuki didn’t move from his spot on the couch, just raised a brow.

"let me see."

"what—"

"your notes. show me."

groaning, you brought your notebook over, dropping it into his lap. he actually flipped through it, scanning your work like he was grading you. "hmph. not bad. you finally use that brain of yours, huh?"

you pouted. "okay, great. can i get my reward now?"

"tch. desperate, huh?"

"you promised—"

"and i'm a man of my word, ain't i?"

the next thing you knew, he was on you. soon enough, his hands were on your hips, yanking you down onto his lap. his mouth was on yours, hot and hungry, like he’d been waiting for you to finish just so he could devour you.

"katsuki—" you gasped between kisses, "i thought the reward was gonna be like... dinner or something."

"dinner’s later," he growled, his teeth scraping against your jaw. "this is your reward."

and ohhh, he rewarded you alright. every kiss, every touch was dripping with pride — like he was genuinely turned on by you grinding through your study session.

"so fuckin’ proud of you, baby," he murmured against your skin as his hands slid under your shirt, "knew you could do it. my smart fuckin’ girl."

it caught you off guard — the way your eyes started to sting when he called you that.

you hadn’t even realized how much you needed to hear that. how much you’d been doubting yourself lately — feeling like you weren’t doing enough, like you were somehow always behind. and here katsuki was, holding you close, praising you like you’d just moved mountains.

"hey…" his voice softened, your shaky breath giving you away. "shit, baby, what’s wrong?"

"n-nothing," you sniffled, wiping at your face. "sh-shit, i’m sorry... i’m just... being stupid. i didn’t mean to be... a turn-off or anything, holy fuck..."

"nah, nah, don’t gimme that," he said, tipping your chin up so you couldn’t hide. "what is it? c’mon, sweets.. talk to me."

"i just..." you let out a weak laugh, embarrassed at how emotional you’d gotten. "you called me your smart girl, and i... i don’t know. i guess i haven’t really... felt like one, lately."

his brows furrowed, like the thought alone pissed him off. "that’s bullshit. you're smart as hell — way smarter than you give yourself credit for. don’t care how long it takes you to get something done; you always pull through. always."

his thumb brushed over your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. "and i’m proud of you. so fuckin’ proud, y’hear me?"

that did it. you broke down, melting into his chest as he held you close, murmuring soft reassurances into your hair.

"s’okay," he whispered, rocking you gently. "gotcha. always gotcha, baby."

and he did. katsuki wasn’t the type to throw around words like that easily — so when he said he was proud of you?

he meant it.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ been procastinating a lot lately and im getting there(?) hope you guys arent like me, procrastinating is a bitch😵‍💫 hope you guys enjoyed and if no one told you this yet, im really really proud of you💜💜

[bloomzone]

2025 : #1 be disciplined

[ the 2025 glow up serie ? Click here !]

Motivation feels amazing, doesn’t it? It’s like a spark—a burst of energy that pushes you forward. But what happens when the spark fades? That’s where discipline steps in. It’s the routine you build, the habits you cultivate, and the consistency you stick to even on days you don’t feel like it.

So, instead of waiting to feel ready, discipline says, ‘Let’s go, regardless.’ It’s the engine that turns dreams into reality.

"Ask urself right now: What’s one thing I can commit to daily in 2025? Write it down. Small steps lead to giant leaps."

1.Building Your Disciplined

How do u stay disciplined? Start with these three small steps:

✒️.Growth is not supposed to feel good. You’re going to hate it. You’ll feel like quitting more times than you can count. That’s normal. Growth is built in the moments where you want to give up but don’t.

1. Create Clear Goals: Be specific. Instead of saying, ‘I’ll study more,’ say, ‘I’ll study history for 30 minutes every evening.’ BUY A SMALL NOTEBOOK AND WRITE ALL UR GOALS WITH SMALLER ONE TO BE MORE PRODUCTIVE

2. Track Progress: Whether it’s journaling or using an app, tracking helps you stay accountable.

3.Master Your Mindset: Stop waiting to "feel motivated." Understand that motivation is fleeting, but discipline is reliable. Every time your brain tells you to quit, remind yourself: your emotions don’t run the show—your goals do.

2.Excuses Are Lies

Excuses are lies you’ve sold yourself to stay comfortable. 'I’m too tired.' Lie. 'I don’t have time.' Lie. 'I’m just not motivated.' Biggest lie of all.

Here’s the truth: You’re scared. Scared of failure, scared of discomfort, scared of how much effort it takes to change. But let me tell you something: Fear is temporary. Regret is forever. Which one do you want to live with?

No more excuses. You don’t need more time. You need more discipline. You don’t need motivation. You need action. Stop talking about what you want and start doing the work to get it. Right now.

3.look at yourself in the mirror

Look yourself in the mirror tonight and ask: Am I proud of the choices I made today? If the answer is no, fix it tomorrow. And if the answer is still no, fix it the next day. Don’t let yourself off the hook.

2025 isn’t your year unless you make it your year. Stop expecting change to happen to you. You are the change. Get out of your head, get off the couch, and get to work. The only thing standing between you and the life you want is your own laziness. Crush it.

4.Action Plan for a Disciplined Life

Stop acting like you’re doing enough when you know you’re not. If you want that dream college, that perfect GPA, or that career you keep fantasizing about, you need to stop wasting time and follow a real plan. Get up the second your alarm goes off—no snooze, no excuses. Tackle the hardest, most uncomfortable task first thing in the morning because procrastination is for quitters. Create a non-negotiable schedule and stick to it like your life depends on it, because it does. Eliminate every distraction: delete the apps, unfollow the nonsense, and stop treating your phone like your best friend. Hold yourself accountable—write down your progress every day. If you didn’t do anything to move forward, face the fact that you’re the problem. Plan your next day before you sleep, so you wake up ready to win, not wander. And for the love of everything you want in life, stop choosing comfort over progress. Your excuses won’t get you that GPA, that acceptance letter, or that dream job—but discipline will.

breaking this into chunks

1. Kill the Snooze Button: Get out of bed the moment your alarm goes off. No "just 5 more minutes." Those 5 minutes are the difference between starting strong and losing the day.

2. Start With the Hard Stuff: Tackle your most challenging task first thing in the day. Procrastination is your enemy—eat the frog and move on.

3. Create a Non-Negotiable Schedule: Block out specific times for studying, working out, or any critical task. Treat these blocks like appointments with your future self—don��t cancel.

4. Cut Out Time-Wasters: Delete apps you waste time on. Unfollow distractions. If you spend hours scrolling or binge-watching, you’re digging your own grave.

5. Build Accountability: Tell someone your goals and have them call you out when you slack. Better yet, make it public—you’ll hate embarrassing yourself in front of others.

6. Track Progress Daily: Write down everything you’ve done that day to move closer to your goals. If you haven’t done anything, face the hard truth: you’re slacking.

7. Plan Tomorrow Tonight: Before you go to bed, write out your next day’s schedule. If you wake up without a plan, you’ve already lost.

8. Say No to Comfort: Skip the cozy excuses. If it’s not pushing you closer to your goals, it’s holding you back.

Discipline is the foundation of every success story. It’s not about luck, talent, or fleeting motivation—it’s about showing up, doing the hard work, and making the right choices every single day. If you want to achieve your dreams, you need to stop waiting for the perfect moment and start building habits that get you closer to your goals. Cut the excuses, own your failures, and take control of your life. The road to greatness isn’t easy, but every sacrifice, every uncomfortable moment, and every disciplined action will take you one step closer to the future you deserve. You either make it happen, or you watch someone else do it. The choice is yours. The clock is not waiting for u !

@bloomzone ✒️

[retrosabers]

𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

FICMAS DAY 3: GIFT-GIVING

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: as bucky’s secret santa, you’re determined to give him the best christmas present he’s ever received.

contains: grumpy buck fluff, some angst, idiots who are crushing hard, swearing

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this is a long one i’m apologizing in advance

i am SO SORRY for crickets in the ficmas department the past week, i hit a big brick wall with this and i’ve been so all over the place with my own holiday planning and such that i ended up having to cut the masterlist in half because i knew i couldn’t get it all done. i’m very sorry to anyone who was looking forward to what got scrapped, but i couldn’t bring myself to rush through writing and put out something i don’t believe it my best work.

also, do people even want avengers fix it fics anymore?? i debated between the “everything is fine the team lives at the compound together” vibe and setting this post tfatws, but ultimately decided the former was easier to write. and i think it worked in my favor because this turned out really cute :)

!! divider by @strangergraphics !!

FICMAS MASTERLIST

your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest.

who’s idea was this again? wanda? tony? steve? it didn’t matter anymore. all that mattered right now was that you didn’t pass out in the elevator. a feat that was becoming more and more difficult the closer you got to your destination.

a secret santa is supposed to bring you joy, not near paralyzing anxiety.

at first, you were 100% on board with participating in a gift exchange. as much as you wanted to shower all of your teammates with presents galore, not everyone shared the same sentiment, and thus the idea of a secret santa was proposed.

excitement courses through your veins as you reach your hand into the cheap santa hat tony grabbed from god knows where in storage, with little pieces of paper containing the names of your fellow avengers. you decided to wait until you were back in the privacy of your room to open it up, afraid of any wandering eyes taking a peak. the last thing you wanted was the element of surprise to be stripped away. it was half the fun after all.

as sam pulls the last name, you quietly excuse yourself and all but rush upstairs, too eager to get in the holiday spirit and brainstorm. as soon as the door shuts behind you, you hurriedly reveal the contents of the paper.

if it’s natasha, i can get her a pair of ballet slippers. she’s been mentioning how she wants to start dancing again.

what about bruce? maybe a journal for all his ideas? he always seems to be losing sticky notes in the lab.

a million different ideas swirl around in your head, reminding you just how much joy this time of year brings. to you, there was nothing better than seeing the gleeful looks on people’s faces when they opened their gifts. the corners of your mouth turn up at the memory of your first christmas with the team. how shy and reluctant you were, afraid of going overboard. now, a few years later, you’re completely unabashed in showing just how much you care about them.

your bright smile morphs into a deep frown as you unfold the paper.

bucky barnes.

quite possibly the most difficult person you could’ve chosen.

to be clear, there’s nothing wrong with bucky. he may be a bit grumpy and standoffish, but it’s with good reason and you know it. that also doesn’t change the fact that he’s going to be impossible to try and shop for.

what do you get for the man who seemingly despises anything the modern world has to offer? the same man who you’re 99% sure hates your guts. come to think of it, how did you even pull him? he most definitely wasn’t downstairs 20 minutes ago when everyone scribbled down their names and tossed them in tony’s direction.

it was irrelevant now. you were stuck being his secret santa, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give james buchanan barnes the best christmas gift he’s ever gotten in his century-long lifetime.

the two weeks it took to come up with an idea sure felt like a century. if it wasn’t for the concerning amount of snooping you did, you’d probably be showing up empty handed. thankfully, at almost 1 in the morning on a random tuesday, a lightbulb went off in your brain. you scrambled bright and early the next day to go shopping, and by some lucky form of divine intervention, you acquired the perfect gift.

flash forward to now, and you’re carrying an insanely large box up to bucky’s room. in a blatant stray from what the rest of the team was doing, you decided to give him his present one on one, secluded from everyone else. partly because you were afraid of public embarrassment if he hated it, and partly because you knew bucky wasn’t very fond of being put on display.

you hope he’ll at least be grateful for that.

when the elevator finally chimes, signaling you’ve arrived at the dormitory floor, the box nearly slips from your grasp. not just from how heavy it was, but from the nervous sweat coating your palms.

the hallway is quiet enough to hear a pin drop, save for the faint sound of christmas music playing over the speakers. with careful, calculated steps, you make your way down the length of the corridor, dragging your feet the closer you get to bucky’s room. there’s a small part of you that hopes he’s downstairs in the gym, the kitchen, the backyard, anywhere but here. dropping and dashing wasn’t what you had in mind, but the anxious thumping of your heart was becoming unbearable. you know it will only amplify tenfold if you’re forced to stare into those steel blue eyes of his. the thought alone sends a chill down your spine.

you freeze in place when you hear the sound of a door knob clicking open.

please be wanda’s room, please be wanda’s room.

in front of you, the very last door on the left creaks open, revealing the tall and brooding super soldier whose company you were aiming to avoid.

it’s easy to forget how handsome bucky barnes is when he normally does nothing but grimace in your direction.

you still weren’t used to his new haircut, but it was clear he felt significantly more confident with it. is that a hint of aftershave, or cologne? whatever it was, the scent fit him perfectly; cedarwood with a hint of spice. the green henley he wears fits snugly against his broad frame, emphasizing all the muscles you’ve been caught staring at on more than one occasion. for once, he’s not wearing a scowl, though that changes when he catches sight of you.

surely you must look strange, standing dumbfounded in the middle of the hall with a box covered in santa-printed wrapping paper and a big bow that you can barely hold. right now the floor opening up and swallowing you whole was at the top of your wish list. and st. nick better make it quick.

bucky’s expression shifts from one of disdain to curiosity as he quirks a brow wordlessly. your own knit together in frustration, knowing you now had no choice but to do this exchange face to face.

“need any help?” he questions monotonously. as much as you want to be prideful and reject it, your arms feel like they’re going to fall off any second. he seems to catch your drift despite a verbal response, because in the blink of an eye he’s striding towards you, sweeping the gift from your arms and into his own with ease. you try not to gape at the way his biceps strain against fabric.

you stutter out a “thanks,” as you straighten out your sweater. bucky grunts in return and eyes the package in his hands cautiously. you’re half expecting him to shake it like a child when you catch the tiniest twitch of his upper lip.

it’s the closest thing to a smile he’s ever shown in your presence. something that gives you the courage to actually form a sentence instead of continuing to gawk at him.

here goes nothing.

“this is for you, actually,” you manage to shakily breathe out. bucky halts his observations, a glimmer of surprise briefly dancing across his face.

a beat of silence passes between you. “don’t remember asking for anything," he finally says. it’s still laced with his typical dry sarcasm, but there’s a legitimate amusement in his tone that can’t be missed.

you narrow your eyes at him playfully, feeling a little bit more at ease now that he didn’t completely rebuff you.

“i’m your secret santa, smartass,” you jab with your hands on your hips.

for the first time ever, bucky smirks at you.

“don’t recall asking for that either.”

you throw your hands up in defense, offering him a surprisingly nonchalant shrug. “don’t blame me, i’m pretty sure steve was the one who put your name in.”

“punk,” the man grumbles. he shakes his head, attention turning back to the present in hand once more.

despite his apparent annoyance, you can’t seem to stop yourself from continuing on.

“i know you’re supposed to do this kind of thing with everyone around,” you start off shaky, afraid of upsetting him any more than you may already have. his gaze immediately falls to you upon hearing your voice.

“i also know you’re not a big fan of being the center of attention,” you continue, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans. “figured you’d like this better if it was in private.”

bucky’s features soften. his jaw unclenched, his eyes not so narrow and judgmental. he looks relieved, flattered; a myriad of things you can’t name or place.

“i appreciate that,” he admits, suddenly shy and impish. for a second, he completely forgets about the gift you brought. the simple fact that you were kind enough to consider his feelings, despite how cold he could be to you, makes his heart skip a beat.

you simply nod your head in reply, teetering back and forth on your feet awkwardly trying to decipher your next move.

“you don’t have to open that right now you know.”

he sets the box down on the floor next to his door. “kinda defeats the purpose don’t you think?”

you shrug. “whatever you’re comfortable with. doesn’t matter what you’re “supposed to do.””

why did you care so much about his comfort level? he hardly showed any concern for yours. the notion consumes his thoughts, prohibiting him from offering anything except a nod of acknowledgement.

that awkward silence comes once again, signaling maybe you’ve overstayed your welcome, or that the moment of peace is over. you check your watch in hopes that father time was ending this exchange for you.

just your luck, he’s right on schedule.

“i uh, better get downstairs,” you announce, pointing your thumb in the direction of the elevator. “don’t wanna miss thor forcing everyone to do christmas karaoke.”

a noise akin to laughter snorts out of bucky’s nose, evoking a delightful warmth in your chest. it was different than all the other times you’ve been flustered in the presence of the super soldier. this was less about intimidation and more about…camaraderie. now wondering if maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you thought.

it’s exactly what you need to reignite your holiday cheer and shed any remaining worries.

before you can second guess, you turn on your heels, closing the gap between your bodies. wrapping a hand around his arm, his metal arm, and offering a gentle caress, the sincerity in your words is clear as day.

“merry christmas buck.”

your touch burns straight through vibranium all the way to his chest. across his entire body, igniting every cell ablaze. a fire consuming him in ways unimaginable.

and yet. he enjoyed the burn.

as you pull away, much to his dismay, the tips of his fingers brush against the inside of your wrist. goosebumps errupt on your skin, from the cool metal, or that fact that bucky was so pretty this close, only time would tell.

“you too,” he murmurs with a faint grin. the soft crinkles by his eyes are likely going to be the subject of your daydreams for the next week.

you flash him a smile over your shoulder before turning down the hall and averting his gaze, not wanting him to see just how much you were blushing.

while unbeknownst to you, bucky was now a very bright shade of red.

he waits until he can hear the elevator doors close before slipping back into his room and very carefully unwrapping the box. there’s a nervousness in his stomach that’s unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. as the bare brown packaging becomes exposed, he begins ripping back the numerous layers of packing tape. you really took your time on this, he thinks to himself.

that funny feeling only amplifies when he sees the contents of the box.

a record player, a very expensive looking one at that, sits inside with another three wrapped items that he concludes are vinyls, judging from their flatness. on top of it all, there was a small note shrouded in luxe stationary. bucky’s heart stutters when he sees his name scribbled delicately in your handwriting.

his fingers falter briefly before he digs into the envelope.

i know this isn’t like the ones from the 40s, but it’s the closest thing i could find. also got a few of your favorite records, and one i think you’ll like too. don’t forget i have quite a collection of my own in case you ever want to try something new.

merry christmas ♡

bucky unceremoniously plops down on the edge of his bed. the normally stiff feeling mattress now mirrored a sea of clouds and feathers. he’d gladly sink into the abyss of softness, if it meant pumping the brakes on his thundering heartbeat.

from the moment he met you, bucky knew he was in trouble.

you had an aura about you that was magnetic, always drawing people in and bathing them in your light. your unconditional kindness and consideration, hell, even your mere presence in a room seemed to liven it up entirely. it was a hypnotizing, almost dangerous thing for the man, and if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was to push people away. for their sake, and his. bucky was certain that once he started keeping his distance, that you’d eventually give up in trying to crack his tough outer shell, or that the silly feelings he had would disappear.

but right now, as he’s staring at your handwriting and rubbing his thumb repeatedly over that little heart, he knows it was all in vain.

later that night, he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the familiar croon of it’s been a long, long time wafting from his present. he tries to focus on the beauty of the song, or the lights he can see from his window twinkling out on the lawn, but it’s nearly impossible. you’re the subject of all his thoughts. have been since the moment he saw you standing out in the hall. from the scent of your perfume to the little intricacies of your penmanship. the thing that’s plaguing him the most, however, is your hand on his arm.

bucky’s real arm had been gone for over half a century, having stopped experiencing phantom limb syndrome ages ago. yet somehow he felt it there, clear as day. the same tactile sensations on his flesh, right arm, in the metal prosthetic of his left. an electric shock that he’s never recognized before, and that he wouldn’t be opposed to feeling again.

tomorrow, he plans to thank steve for mischievously adding his name into the lottery.

and to ask you about your record collection.

thanks for reading! <3

tag list: @alastor-simp @j4desblurbs @pandapetals

!! if you would like to be tagged in the rest of the ficmas blurbs, please send me an inbox message or leave a comment !!

[likeumeanit9497]

metal | m.s. |

matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: y/n got a few new piercings, and when her best friend matt asks to see them, she can't say no

warnings: smut; unprotected p in v (bad); oral (fem receiving); masturbation (m/f); phone sex; dirty talk; 18+

notes: hiii guys. i feel like tumblr's flakiest writer ever coming back on here every few weeks with a one-shot and telling u all im gonna be more consistent but then just not being consistent at all. i just started a new college program and it is taking up so (!!!!) much of my time, so ive been barely able to put any time towards writing for funsies. soooo it might take me a couple weeks to put out one shots (sad) while im in this program, but i swear im doing the best i can. i appreciate u all so so so so much, but matt girls this one is for u <33

With a sigh of relief, I crawled into bed. It was late, and I was exhausted after a long day of dealing with family shit. The only thing that got me through my day listening to my dead-beat father come up with yet another excuse on why he no-showed at my birthday dinner was the promise that, at the end of the day, I would be able to curl up in bed and forget all of my problems. Now that time had come, and I couldn’t wait to turn on some trashy reality TV show and lose myself in their cushioned world for a little while.

Just as I started the show, I felt my phone vibrate beside me. For just a moment I was filled with dread — thinking that I would be once again pulled back into the drama that was my father — but once I saw the name at the top of my screen, I felt my body relax. Matt was calling.

Matt was my best friend, and he had been for years. Him and I met on the first day of school freshman year, and immediately became inseparable. He was the only person in my life who I ever felt comfortable around enough to truly open up to about my problems. There really wasn’t much in my life that he didn’t know, so of course I had told him last night that I was going to see my father, and of course that was why he was calling. Annoyingly, I felt a smile creep up on my face. I hated that I loved how involved he got with my problems; as if they were his own. I would never admit this to anyone, but it really helped because it made me feel less alone.

“Hey you.” I greeted him after accepting the call. “Hey Y/n.” His voice sounded familiar in my ear, and already it calmed the sea of bad thoughts crashing in my mind. “How did today go?” He asked, keeping his tone light. I knew though that if I could see his face, there would be faint lines of concern etched in his forehead. I sighed. “Exactly like I knew it would. He gave me an insincere apology and weak excuse the way he always does.” Matt stayed silent on the other side of the call, allowing me the time to tell him as much as I wanted. His soft breathing through the speaker, however, comforted me and let me know that he was listening.

“He smelled like a distillery and couldn’t stop slurring his words, yet he was still trying to tell me that he hadn’t drank all week.” I heard my voice weaken, and I hated that I felt a lump forming in my throat over the situation. I hated that I cared, and I definitely didn’t want anyone to know that I did; even Matt. But of course, he knew anyways. I heard an empathetic sigh through the phone. “I’m sorry, Y/n.” I rolled my eyes, doing everything I could to keep the tears from falling. “It’s whatever. It’s not like I’m really losing much, but I did tell him that I’m done for good.” I forced my words to come out smooth, like I didn’t care. And I didn’t, not really.

“That must have been really hard, Y/n. I’m really sorry.” Matt’s words were sincere, and they caused the lump in my throat to grow even bigger. I forced out a laugh to keep my other emotions at bay. “Don’t be sorry. It’s better this way. Maybe now I can finally have peace in my crazy life.” There was silence on the line, and I knew it was because Matt wanted me to go deeper about my feelings, but I couldn’t handle much more tonight.

“Anyways,” I started, blinking away my tears and plastering a corny smile on my face as if Matt could even see it, “How have you been? We haven’t talked much over the past week.” At the change of subject, Matt picked up on my disinterest in the topic of my father, and like the best friend he is, transitioned into our new topic smoothly. “I’ve been good, been working a lot but it’s been on exciting things. What have you been up to? You know, besides today?” I chuckled softly.

“Honestly not much besides work. My boss has been really stressed out since the end of last quarter so I’ve been coming into the office early and staying well past five every day.” I paused, staring up at my ceiling trying to think if there was anything exciting I could tell Matt. Suddenly, I remembered that there actually was something that I had done that was more interesting than just working late all week. “Oh! I also got some new piercings last week.” It was Matt’s turn to chuckle.

“Y/n, how the fuck did you fit more piercings on your body?” I laughed. He was right, both of my ears were filled with every piercing imaginable, and I also had my nose, tongue, and belly button pierced. I had already told him that I would never get anymore facial piercings, and I certainly didn’t have much room on my ears to get more, so I understood his confusion entirely. “Do you want to guess where they are?” I teased, feeling relieved to have something to talk about that didn’t make be absolutely miserable for once. “Sure,” I heard what sounded like a blanket rubbing against the speaker, and I assumed that Matt was now getting comfortable in bed, also seemingly enjoying the light-hearted conversation, “But can I get some hints?”

“Sure,” I replied, “You can ask me three questions.” I heard him smile through the phone. “Okay…” There was a pause as he came up with his first question. “How many did you get?” Without hesitation, I was able to respond. “I got three.” There was another pause, and then. “Are two of them a part of a pair?” I laughed at Matt’s not-so-subtle guess. I had told him months ago that I had been wanting to get a certain pair of piercings for a while, and I knew he was thinking of that exact conversation. “Yes they are.” I replied, and there was a dramatic gasp on the line. “Ouch, you actually got your nipples pierced?” His voice was laced with playful concern, and something else. Intrigue?

“Okay okay, you got two out of the three. One more question left.” I encouraged him. If he was shocked about my nipple piercings, I couldn’t wait to hear his reaction to the third. He was silent again for a moment, surely confused by the third piercing. Nipple piercings weren’t that outlandish for me, and he knew that, but this last one is sure to blow his mind. “Oh god, I don’t know. Is it another body piercing?” His tone sounded so helpless, and I knew he really didn’t have a clue. “It is, yes.” I did my best to contain my laughter at this point, not wanting to give it away.

“Is it a second belly button piercing?” The guess was weak, and by the tone of his voice he knew it. “Nope.” I replied, biting my nails in anticipation. He was once again silent on the phone, and I knew he was officially running out of ideas. After a moment, I decided to give him one last hint. “Think lower.”

A new silence poured from the phone. Before, there was the silence of deep thought. Now, there was a heavier silence that let me know he finally put it together in his head. Below your belly button, there aren’t many places you can get pierced. He knew that just as much as I did. But I didn’t know if his silence meant he was just shocked, or if he was genuinely disappointed in me. For the first time since becoming friends with Matt, I felt nervous that maybe I had gone too far.

“You’re serious?” He asked, finally breaking his silence, and I couldn’t help but release a short, nervous laugh. “Yeah. Why? Did I just delve too far into the daddy-issues stereotype?” I tried to keep my tone humorous, but inside I was actually worried that was true. Did he think I was weird now? Or did the fact that I had a piece of metal pierced atop my bundle of nerves immediately turn me into some dirty whore in his eyes?

“No! Jesus, no Y/n.” His rushed words put a pause on my spiralling thoughts, and I felt myself relax slightly. “It’s just,” In that moment, I wished that I could see his face. At least then I would have better odds of being able to read him instead of just waiting helplessly on the other side of the phone. He was struggling to find the words he wanted to say, and in my mind that meant he was getting ready to give me some sort of lecture. It wasn’t something that he was in the habit of doing, but I had also never done anything as shocking as this before. I began to prepare myself for this lecture, and come up with explanations and excuses for what I had done, when his hesitant words stopped me in my tracks.

“Can I see them?”

I stared at my phone for a second, unsure if I was just hearing things. “You want to see them?” I couldn’t stop myself from asking, for clarification’s sake. I was shocked. Even with how close Matt and I are, we had never ever seen each other naked. In fact, there had been no physical intimacy between us other than platonic cuddles every once in a while. I would be lying, though, if I denied ever having moments of weakness. There had been times, when we would have sleepovers after tough days and the heat of Matt’s comforting body pressed against me, where I had wanted to throw all logic aside and press my lips to his. But I never would have done it. Matt wasn’t exactly known for his boldness, and I feared that my bad habit of being spontaneous would absolutely destroy our friendship. But now, he had me questioning all of that.

“I’m curious.” He replied, his tone nonchalant. I still couldn’t tell if he was being serious, and I felt like a deer in headlights. Just as I was about to tell him to stop fucking around, my screen lit up with a Facetime call from Matt. My stomach did a flip. “You gonna pick up?” His voice made me jump, but I cleared my throat and hit accept.

Suddenly, Matt’s face filled my screen. He was in his bed, the only light in his room seeming to come from a faint source; likely his computer screen. His face was so familiar, and the smile he sent me so comforting, that I immediately felt more at ease than I felt before. “Hey.” He said gently, and I laughed at the ridiculousness of this moment. “Hey” I replied before shifting my position in bed nervously. “So you were serious?” I asked awkwardly, and he nodded. “If you’re okay with it, obviously.” I took a deep breath. I was okay with it, of course, but it was just so out of the norm for us that I felt shell shocked.

“I’ll show you nipples first.” I said, sitting up in my bed before grabbing the bottom hem of my oversized t-shirt. I positioned my phone in front of my still-clothed chest, and watched his face on the screen. He laid naturally in bed, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary, but the way his dilated blue eyes were glued to the screen I could tell that he was feeling the same kind of anticipation that I was. Slowly, I finally lifted my shirt up over my chest; allowing him a full view of my new piercings.

I intentionally left the shirt up to block my own vision, because I couldn’t handle watching him stare at my tits for the first time. In the dark, all I heard was silence for what felt like forever, and I got worried that I had somehow lost him. Cautiously, I pulled my t-shirt away from my eyes, and glanced at him on the screen. He was staring intently; I could see his eyes move from one tit to the other every few seconds, and there was a slight grin across his face. “Wow.” He said finally, still taking them in. “Those are sick piercings.” I stifled a laugh at the fact that he was still trying to act like it was all just about the piercings, and that there weren’t two tits attached to the metal. “Thanks.” I replied, a small chuckle still evident in my voice.

I allowed him a few more seconds of shameless staring before speaking again. “You ready for the third?” I watched as he blinked a few times and took a deep breath. “I can’t wait.” He replied, causing my stomach to do another flip. I brought the phone back up to my face as I laid back down, smiling at him nervously as I pulled my comforter off my lower body. I was only wearing a pair of panties, so I already felt shy when I positioned my phone in between my legs. I used the front camera still, hoping that it would allow him a better view, but hated that you could still see the lower part of my face.

Matt hadn’t moved in his bed since I looked at him last. In fact, it almost looked like his image was frozen. His eyes were still glued to the screen, and he seemed to be barely blinking; as if he was scared that if he did, he would miss it entirely. “Okay, ready?” I asked, using the hand that wasn’t holding the phone steady to grab onto the side of my panties. Even in the almost-dark of his room, I could see him gulp before nodding his head. “Ready.” He replied.

Slowly, I hooked a finger under my panties, and pulled them to the side. In the blink of an eye, all of me had been revealed to Matt through a screen inches away from my core. My eyes veered back and forth from myself in the phone and Matt’s expression. I could see the shiny metal glitter against my pink clit, and watched as Matt visibly struggled to keep his composure. Neither of us spoke for a moment, and I felt myself begin to tremble under his shameless stare. I grew nervous, then, that my body would begin to give away how suddenly aroused I became under his eyes. My core was flooding with heat, and I knew that I was beginning to grow slick with my wetness.

“Does it hurt?” He finally spoke, but his voice had changed drastically since I had last heard it. It had dropped nearly a whole octave, and there was a sort of breathlessness to it that was foreign to me. It was the voice of arousal, and that knowledge was enough to drive me crazy. “N-no, it doesn’t,” I replied, using all the strength in me to not squeeze my legs together to relieve some of the pressure flooding my core. “It’s been a week, and these sorts of piercings heal really quick surprisingly. I can touch it and everything.” My last sentence fell from my mouth thoughtlessly, and I immediately felt my cheeks grow hot at my accidental boldness. That didn’t last long, though, because Matt’s next words pulled all that heat right back to where it was before.

“So touch it then.”

It was like all the sense was knocked out of me from his words. I would have thought that my instinct would have been to laugh and roll my eyes before telling Matt to knock it off, but the seriousness of his tone, the sharp blue of his piercing eyes, and gruffness of his voice caused my brain to shut off. Immediately, my hand traveled to my bud, where I began to slowly play with the metal. Although I had been telling the truth when I told Matt that it was fully healed, I hadn’t yet touched myself in this way since getting it pierced, and the new sensation immediately sent pleasurable shock waves through my body. As I began to slowly rub my clit, the metal added a new level of pressure to the nerves that — combined with the adrenaline that came from doing this in front of my best friend for the first time — caused me to throw my head back against my pillows.

“Tell me how it feels.” Matt’s deep voice filled the space around me in a way that made me feel even more erotic, and I released a soft moan. “I-It feels good.” I replied breathlessly, my fingers beginning to move quicker as I squeezed my eyes shut in pleasure. “Better than before?” His question came out slightly choppy, and through the phone speaker I heard the rhythmic shuffling of his comforter. “Y-yes. Much better.” I managed to reply, the thought of what he was doing to himself on the other side of the screen pushing me closer to the edge.

“Look at me.” He commanded, and without hesitation I lifted my head up; looking at him through the screen. He could only see the lower half of my face, but I could see all of his. As I continued toying with myself, I watched him through fluttering eyelashes. Although his face had not changed much — besides the darkening of his pupils and the faint accumulation of sweat on his brow — the repetitive movement of his bicep at the corner of the screen told me everything that I needed to know. “You look so good.” He complimented me, his voice low and gravelly. I moaned in response, rolling my hips slowly as I began to grow antsy with a need that I knew I couldn’t fulfill myself.

The pleasure was growing like a balloon deep inside of me, but my own fingers weren’t enough to reach it. Not now; not when I have a beautiful man that I trust more than anyone else watching me with that dangerously erotic gaze. Just like Matt knows everything about me, I know everything about him. And so I know that, in this moment, he wants the same thing that I do. That’s why I didn’t feel any unease or hesitation when I drew my fingers away from my clit, ran them achingly slow along the rest of my heat, and spoke.

“Please come over Matt.”

It was a request that I had made to him countless times. Those times I was usually close to tears after a long day of dealing with the shitty cards I had been handed in the family department. I needed him then, like I need him now. In those times he never ever hesitated, and this time was no different. In one swift motion, I watched through the screen as Matt lifted himself out of his bed, threw on a t-shirt, and grabbed his keys off the bedside table. “I’ll be there in ten.” Just like my request, his response was the same as always. As I told him to drive safe before hanging up the call, I felt my body vibrate in a way it never had before. I pulled my hand out of my panties and waited in desperate anticipation for the familiar sound of his car pulling into my driveway.

𓆩☆𓆪

Matt arrived at my place in eight minutes, and as soon as I saw his headlights through my window, I sprung out of bed and raced to the door. There was no nervousness, no reluctancy, no questioning whether or not we were making a big mistake; all I knew was that I needed his hands on my burning skin desperately.

I flung the door open before he even had a chance to knock, but Matt didn’t hesitate before pulling me into him and engulfing my mouth with his own. Although we had never kissed before, it wasn’t shock that I felt in that moment; it was the melting satisfaction of familiarity. I practically collapsed in his arms as his mouth moved against mine as if they were two pieces of a puzzle, and relished in the feeling of his hands travelling wildly across my aching body at last.

As he held me gently against the wall, I felt his hardened member press against my core, and I shuddered in pleasurable frustration. In that moment, I could have lost all self control — pulled his pants and boxers down in one movement and slipped his cock into my aching core right then and there — if he hadn’t grabbed onto my ass and lifted me off of the ground. Without removing his lips from mine, he carried me past my entrance way and all the way into my dark bedroom as if he had memorized every square inch of my place.

As he continued to kiss me with hungry desire, he paradoxically draped my body gently against my bed. Leaning over me, his mouth refused to leave mine and his tongue begged me for entrance. I obliged, and our tongues swirled together with comfort; as if they were old friends. The sound of our heavy breathing filled my head, and I ran my hands along his body; allowing myself to feel him in a way I never had before. Each part of him felt familiar — his back, his arms, his stomach — but each new part of him I touched set off sparks of electricity under my fingertips. This was real, and this was good.

It was only after I began toying with the waistband of his pants, and he the hem of my shirt, that our lips separated and we really looked at each other since the moment he arrived. Both of our chests were heaving as we tried to catch our breath, and I gazed up at his darkened eyes for what felt like forever, until a soft smile crept onto his swollen lips. “Hi.” He said, and I released a short laugh realizing that this was the first word either one of us had said to the other since hanging up the Facetime call. “Hey.” I replied, a smile matching his now etched onto my face.

“Can I take this off?” He tugged on the bottom of my t-shirt, and I nodded. “Please.” I replied, feeling no shame in my clear desperation. Matt obliged, pulling the shirt up over my head and exposing the tits he had seen on Facetime not long before. There was a pause, and for the first time since we started all this I felt briefly insecure. That is, until I looked up to his face and saw his jaw physically dropped in awe. He looked like he had fallen into some sort of trance, and mindlessly brought his two gentle hands toward my hardened, pierced nipples. He ran a soft thumb against each piercing, and I hissed at the deliciously taunting sensation.

“Do these ones hurt at all?” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but his eyes never left my chest. “These ones do a little, yeah.” I replied, to which his eyes finally fluttered up to my face with slight concern. “But it’s really not that bad.” I added, reassuring him out of fear that he might suddenly not want to continue. This seemed to help, as his eyes made their way back to my chest before his body suddenly began tilting forward. He leaned above my chest, really only centimetres away, and I watched as he placed two small, unbelievably gentle kisses against each hardened nipple. The ecstasy I felt in that moment caused me to release a soft moan, and goosebumps spread across my skin like wildfire, and I suddenly realized that I needed him more than ever.

As if reading my mind, his mouth then began moving slowly down my writhing body. He took his time on my sternum, then the skin below my belly button, then my hip bones, and I felt like I could explode. My hands flew to his hair and I subconsciously tugged at its base in decadent frustration. And then slowly, so, so, slowly, Matt began dragging my soaked panties down my legs. I felt like I could crumble under his gaze, but his eyes never left my newly exposed core. Blinking ever so slowly, he dropped to his knees and grabbed my shaky legs to part them. Once he did, I watched as he groaned softly at what he saw.

I knew without having to look that I was literally dripping from arousal, and that hunch was confirmed when Matt took one finger and dragged it along my slit; collecting the overabundance of fluid. He didn’t even take his eyes off of my centre, he just brought his wet finger to his mouth and wrapped his lips around it; so transfixed by what he saw in front of him that he didn’t even care to make a scene of tasting me for the first time. I had never felt more glorious than I did in that moment, and it was so overwhelming that I could have came just from sight alone.

Slowly, Matt’s mouth inched closer and closer to my clit, before he carefully wrapped his lips around it. Upon the first contact of his warm tongue playing with the cool metal of my piercing, I was hit with a powerful wave of pleasure that shook my whole body. As he picked up speed, swirling and sucking my bundle of nerves, I couldn’t control the sounds that fell from my lips. Moans of pleasure, pain, and anticipation filled the room, and they only seemed to draw similar ones from Matt.

Matt slid two fingers into me with ease, and began pumping them in and out in rhythm with the movements of his tongue. His fingers were curled up to just the place I needed them to be, and I felt what was left of my sanity begin to crumble as I approached an orgasm. The orgasm that I had been desperately needing since our Facetime call. It’s impending presence had taken control of my mind for what felt like forever, and now it was finally threatening to take control of my entire body. Yet, still, I needed more.

Quickly, before the first waves could crash, I pulled Matt’s face away. Immediately, his blissed-out expression quickly changed to one of concern, but before he had the chance to speak, my desperate voice filled the room. “Please Matt, I want to cum with you.” His features softened before understanding flashed in his eyes. Without saying a word, he stood up and began unzipping his pants. I waited in anticipation, watching with hungry eyes as his painfully hard member sprung free from his boxers. Once he had fully discarded his clothes, he leaned down and kissed me so deeply that I saw stars. His mouth tasted like me, and I couldn’t help but slip my tongue past his lips; intoxicated by the combination of me and him on my tastebuds.

I felt his naked member press against my core and I shuddered from pure lust. I was so engulfed in the intensity that I was afraid I would fall into pieces as soon as he slid into me. Breaking the kiss, Matt straightened himself out and grabbed my legs before placing them on either side of his waist. The two pieces of us that needed each other the most right now were just inches from one another. My eyes fell between my legs, and I watched in euphoric awe as Matt grabbed his swollen member, lined it up with my centre, and slowly pushed into me. His movements were so torturously, deliciously slow, my eyes rolled and my head fell back onto the mattress.

On each slow roll of his hips, his cock slammed into my g-spot and made my vision go spotty. I held onto his flexed shoulders like I was drowning and they were my life raft, and I released harsh guttural moans each time my walls stretched; welcoming him graciously. “Fuck, you feel so good.” Matt’s raspy voice fluttered my stomach, and I opened my eyes to come face-to-face with him. He was staring down at my contorted face with a look filled with nothing but pleasure and adoration. His flushed cheeks and dark pink lips gave him a look that bordered on innocent, but there was a certain hint of hard focus in the depths of his ocean eyes that told me he was feeling as good as I was.

Each time he thrusted into me, the soft crest of his pelvis brushed ever so lightly against my new piercing; granting me a new form of pleasure that I had never experienced before. I had been told by other people that the piercing can be intense during sex, but I had underestimated just how intense it would be. I had no sense of control as Matt’s cock continued to drive into me, and I couldn’t help but vocalize how he was making me feel.

“J-just like that Matt, fuck!”

“Your c-cock fills me s-so go-od!”

“H-harder, please baby!”

At my last statement, Matt showed he was listening by suddenly slamming into me harder and faster than I had ever felt before. He grabbed my legs and wrapped them tightly around his waist, and as I arched my back in pleasure he draped one of his arms around it and used the other to hold my jaw; brushing it lightly with his thumb to ensure me that his gentleness had not completely disappeared. His breathing quickly grew more and more rapid, and deep grunts fell from his mouth every few seconds.

I was hit with shockwaves of pleasure upon each of his thrusts, and I knew that my orgasm was closer than ever. I dug my nails into his back and tightened my legs around him in a desperate and subconscious attempt at getting as close as possible to him, and it was clear that there was no stopping the orgasm that was bubbling inside of me. “G-gonna cum Matt.” I squeaked out, rolling my hips up slightly deepen his thrusts even more. “Good girl, want me to cum with you?” His words were in my ear, and even the dampness that his mouth made against my skin added to my unraveling euphoria. Beyond the point of being able to speak correctly, I simply nodded my head frantically.

As I did, Matt released the deep moan that pushed me over the edge. My orgasm took control of every cell in my body, and I cried out in overwhelming pleasure as it tore me to shreds. I felt my body stiffen so much that I was practically lifting off of the bed, and my walls pulsed intensely as I squirted violently all over Matt. Just then, I felt Matt’s body stiffen above me, and his movements became a whisper as he cursed into my ear. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck.” His moans rang in my ear with each of his weak thrusts, and I felt his twitching cock paint my walls white as he came undone in unison with me.

Eventually, his body stilled completely, and he rested above me as we both caught our breaths and came down from our highs. His cock slipped out of me, and I immediately felt cold and empty in its absence. After a few moments, Matt lifted his head from my shoulder and gazed at me with a soft smile on his face.

“Damn.”

“I know.”

”I mean, that was-”

“I know.”

We continued to stare at each other, both with matching smiles on our faces, until I dissolved into childish giggles.

“What?” Matt asked, unable to keep himself from laughing as well. “What?” He asked again, nudging my shoulder gently as I giggled. “I mean come on,” I continued to laugh, “That was crazy. Don’t you think it was crazy?” I looked at him, starting to feel the first hints of regret now that it was over and we had to go back to being friends. “I don’t think it was crazy.” He replied simply, before bringing his lips back to mine. This kiss was different than the other ones we shared tonight, though. There was no hunger, no lust. There was just love.

He pulled away after only a few moments, and I looked back at him with what I was sure was confusion all over my face. “I have never felt less crazy in my life than I’ve felt tonight.” Matt continued, and I felt my stomach flutter, “Tonight, everything finally feels right.” I felt a bashful smile form on my lips. I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel the exact same way. “So,” I started, unsure of how to maneuver this, “What now?” Matt got up.

“Well,” He began, grabbing his discarded t-shirt and using it to gently clean me up, “It’s late and you’ve had a long day, so I think we should get some sleep.” I propped myself up on my shoulders and watched as he began to clean himself next. “And then when we wake up tomorrow, we’ll go get some breakfast and talk about what we both want.” He walked into my adjacent bathroom and started the shower, the way he has done a thousand times before, before walking back to where I was and helping me off the bed.

Once I was on my feet, he placed another gentle kiss against my lips, and I felt my insides melt at the comfort of his touch. “But if I’m being completely honest, which you know I always am, I think we both already know we want the same thing.” I looked up at him through nervous eyelashes, and had to chew my bottom lip to stifle the massive smile that was threatening to take over my mouth. Matt had no problem showing his huge smile, and he tilted his head quizzically in my silence. “Am I right?” He asked, and instead of responding with words, I leaned up and placed a kiss of my own on his lips.

─ ⊹ ⊱ ��� ⊰ ⊹ ─

[yuechihua]

a midnight guest.

summary: jamil has to contend with an unexpected guest and his own growing feelings when ramshackle dorm's pipes burst and kalim invites you to stay at scarabia.

notes: 4.7k words, author's notes, fluff

Jamil has long known of Kalim’s unfortunate habit of picking up strays, his inability to resist a pitiful look or downturned mouth, so he shouldn’t have been so surprised when Kalim shows up at the dorm with you and Grim in tow. 

“I’m giving them a place to stay!” Kalim announces, gesturing at you and Grim like he’s presenting Jamil with two kittens he’s found off the side of the road. His smile is bright, even as the sun slips down the horizon, painting the entrance of their dorm in darkening oranges and reds.

A cool breeze stirs through the evening, and Jamil keeps his face perfectly neutral as his eyes bore into you and Grim. Grim shuffles like an impatient child, but you’re more tranquil, clutching a duffel bag to your chest.

When you notice Jamil’s eyes on you, you smile at him, apologetic.

“Sorry,” you murmur. There’s a trace of embarrassment in your voice. “I know this is unexpected. But the pipes at Ramshackle burst, and no one else has room for me. I was going to ask Crowley, but—”

“But I found them!” Kalim interrupts. “And we have so much room, and the idea of our friends out in the cold is sad, and the more the merrier, right?”

Kalim picking up strays is a kind gesture, sure, but with his scattered attention, the responsibilities and care inevitably end up falling on Jamil. Promising things he can’t keep, making plans that just end up creating more work and stress for other people, thinking kindness is a convenient excuse for every irresponsible action: it’s all so painfully Kalim it makes Jamil want to shake him until some loose screw in his head clicks into place.

You’re not to blame for this situation, not really. Jamil doesn’t even hold any particular distaste for you; his shit list is a mile long, but you’ve generally managed to keep yourself off it. Still, that doesn’t mean he’s enthused at having to put up another guest for the night. It’s a security risk, even though he doubts you could do anything with both a lack of magic and malice.

Additionally, you’ve always been more of Kalim’s friend than his. Everything he has belongs to Kalim, but nothing of Kalim belongs to him, as much as Kalim insists they share everything, like true friends do. It’s a naive thought, ugly in the pure way Kalim says it. Jamil has no desire to compete for things that can’t be his. 

Besides, friendship means nothing in their world. Someone is always waiting with a knife behind their back or poison in their hand. You could mean well, but who’s to say you don’t have ulterior motives of your own?

“Come in,” he says. His voice is smooth, cordial. The perfect attendant, the diligent servant. “We do have quite a few spare rooms. I can make one up for you.”

“Oh, and they should join us for dinner, too! Jamil is the best cook,” Kalim says, turning towards you with puppy-dog enthusiasm. “You’ll love anything he makes!”

“I don’t want to impose,” you begin.

“Free grub? Count me in!” Grim says. “Whatcha got on the menu?”

“Ooo! I don’t know! But I just know it’s going to be good. Do you have anything you want? I’m sure we can get it for you!”

Jamil lets a sigh escape him. You’re the only one who seems to notice, watching him with a tilted head, as if observing him, but he has no time to puzzle out your intentions. Dinner was just supposed to be Kalim and him, and now he has to figure out a way to feed two additional people. There’s no reason for you to pay attention to him, regardless.

The rest of the evening passes only with the minimal amount of trouble that Kalim’s presence usually brings: careless promises of future parties, a mess of dishes he has to clean, and overwhelming generosity that needs to be checked. Somehow, Jamil manages to whip together a few more dishes to feed both you and Grim, the latter whose stomach seems to be endless. Kalim’s chatter flows just as eternally, and Jamil can only pray for dinner to be over quickly.

When it’s over, he guides you and Grim to your room, leading you down winding hallways and luxuries strewn carelessly at every corner, priceless vases and artwork that’s worth more money than he can make in a lifetime. It’s a constant reminder of Kalim’s wealth, his endless presence saturing into every corner of the dorm.

“This is your room,” he says. It’s a spare guest room, one of many, in fact, that Kalim has. It’s sumptuous as all of them are, with silk drapes, embroidered bed sheets, and heavy wooden furniture crafted by skilled artisans. 

“This is one swanky place!” Grim crows. “Do ya think we can take some of it home?”

Jamil smiles, a touch coldly. “Only if you can afford it. A pillow alone is worth more than your entire dorm.”

“Okay, jeez,” Grim murmurs. 

“Thank you for this, Jamil,” you say. You linger at the doorway, even as Grim runs in and starts jumping on the bed in delight, the mattress soft and springy enough to launch him several feet in the air.

“Say nothing of it. Kalim invites friends over all the time.”

“It just seems like a lot of work,” you venture. “And it was last minute. I feel bad.”

“Don’t. It’s no more work than I’m used to.”

“All right.” You look like you want to say more, but mercifully, you only dip your head at him. “Good night, Jamil.”

“Good night, prefect.” If there was one thing to say about you, then it was that you understood when to keep your mouth shut and read the mood, a skill both Kalim and Grim sorely lacked.

It’s late at night when Jamil finally has time for himself, and he settles on the edge of his bed, letting his hair loose, running through the list of everything he has to do in the morning. It’s exhausting that his day never really seems to end. There’s always something to prepare for, another task to consider, someone else to watch over.

Not even his time belongs to him. His life will always be spent at another’s whims. 

His head throbs. He stands, running a hand through his hair. Maybe he’ll grab some water to help him sleep.

The halls are silent at this time of night, a change from the usual noise and rush of students. It’s peaceful, the shadows pooling at his feet, the moonlight gilding everything in silver. In its solitude, it almost makes Jamil feel like the dorm is his, as foolish of a thought as it is.

There’s shuffling coming from the kitchen. He freezes just beyond the door, hand gripping the pen in his pocket. An intruder? Or another student? Regardless, he rounds the corner, pen in his hand, a spell on the tip of his tongue—before you whirl around, lit by the buttery yellow light of the fridge, clutching a plate of grapes and a glass of water with one hand.

“Jamil,” you say in a gasp, startling just enough that the water ripples in your cup. “I didn’t expect anyone else to be here.”

“I could say the same of you,” he says, relaxing his grip on his pen.

“I was still feeling hungry. I didn’t want to bother anyone, so…”

“What about Grim?”

“He’s asleep. Here, let me get you some water.”

“I don’t need–” But you’re already reaching for another ceramic cup, and it’s more trouble to refuse this small kindness than it is to accept it. He leans against the island in the middle of the kitchen, marble counter digging into his hip, watching you fill the glass at the sink.

“Here.” You offer it to him. “Want some grapes, too?”

He looks at the pile of grapes in your dish, shining in rich, luscious purples and greens, like miniature jewels, dew clinging to the skin. “I’ll take one.”

The water is cool, and the grapes burst with fresh, sweet juice on his tongue. The two of you snack in the quiet. It’s surprising how relaxed he feels, how easy it is to be by your side. There’s no malice from you, nor a crushing weight of expectation. You’re like the clear, refreshing water in a stream.

The grapes are almost gone when you speak, rolling one between your fingers like a marble. “I’ve always wanted to talk to you more.”

“Me?” he says.

“Is there another Jamil Viper in the room?” you tease. “Yes, you.”

“Why? There’s no benefit to getting to know me. I’m not like Kalim.”

There’s a mischievous edge to your smile as you glance at him. “So what? I just want to get to know you.”

“... I’m not an interesting person.”

“I like people like you,” you say. “Here. Let me wash these.” Before he can protest, you’re already grabbing his cup and bringing all the dishes to the sink. Your words are strange, and he can’t make sense of them at all. Him? You want to know him? After everything he’s done to present himself as an ordinary student, why would you take an interest in him?

Maybe it’ll be to his benefit, though. You have ties to Crowley, and your own social connections could prove useful someday. There’s always the possibility that you’re attempting to use him in some regard, too. If that’s the case, then a relationship of mutual give and take isn’t the worst thing in the world, despite your lack of magic.

“Good night again, Jamil,” you say. It’s an odd feeling, not having to rush around, knowing things will fall apart if he doesn’t keep them together. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Good night,” he says. You leave. For a few seconds more, Jamil lingers in the empty kitchen, the memory of the sweet taste of grapes on his tongue.

In the morning, you act no differently than usual. It’s as if Jamil dreamt the entirety of last night’s encounter.

“I hope you slept well,” you greet him at breakfast.

“I hope the same for you,” Jamil responds. He’s attentive to your movements, studying you out of the corner of his eye. You act no differently than normal, chiding Grim for eating so fast he chokes, and bantering with Kalim. You’re casual, relaxed. 

The day passes much the same after that. He keeps track of Kalim, handles various chores throughout the day, and attends classes, perfecting his goal of keeping his grade at a middling, respectable level.

It bothers Jamil, just a little, how aware he is of you, seeing the flutter of your uniform in the corridors, hearing your laughter across the lunchroom. When you’re with your friends, Ace and Deuce, passing him in the halls, you smile at him.

“Hello, Jamil,” you greet.

“Hello,” he responds.

There’s no more to your conversation, simple and short as it is, even as he hears Ace in a fierce whisper, exclaiming, “Prefect, I didn’t think you knew Jamil!”

Jamil entertains the thought that you’re simply trying to cozy up to him in order to target Kalim, but he banishes it as soon as it arrives. You’re already friends with Kalim, so if you wanted to harm him, you’d have the chance to do so by now. So why the interest in him? What possible reason could you have to get closer to him?

That night, as he sits in bed, Jamil can’t bring himself to sleep. Instead, he heads out to the kitchen again. It’s for no reason other than a midnight snack, he reassures himself, even as his pace quickens when he hears the quiet noise of someone in the kitchen past the hour everyone should be asleep.

You’re perched on the kitchen counter, swinging your legs, a pot of warm tea gently humming on the stove. There are two cups and a plate of crackers set next to you.

It’s hard to believe you’ve taken a genuine interest in him, but the suspicions temporarily relax as you offer him a cracker from the same stash you’re munching on. He takes it without a word, and you pour tea into the second cup, sliding it over to him.

“You look nice with your hair down,” you greet. “Can’t sleep?”

“I wanted to stretch my legs,” he says. “And you?”

“I’m just here because I want to be.”

“I see.” Jamil takes a sip from his tea. It’s fragrant and floral and altogether a gentle taste.

There’s no more conversation until the food is done and the tea is cooled, at which point you simply hop off the counter and say, “Good night, Jamil.”

“Good night, prefect,” he responds.

In the morning, over breakfast, as Grim squabbles over Kalim feeding him too many crackers, you say, over your own plate once he finally sits down, “Good morning, Jamil. Did you sleep well?”

“Good morning. It was fine.”

It’s a simple greeting, nothing more. But there’s a weight to your words, as if your day can’t start and your night can’t end until you see him.

After that, it becomes an unspoken agreement for the two of you to meet every night. In that quiet space of time, when everyone else is asleep and the halls belong to him, Jamil finds himself drawn to the kitchen. It’s rare that he arrives before you do, with your plate of simple snacks and quiet companionship.

The two of you talk about nothing in particular, but even a relaxed, meandering conversation still washes away the exhaustion of his day. The sound of your voice has come to be rather familiar and soothing.

“Grim keeps a stash of tuna cans under his bed for emergencies, but keeps eating through them whenever he gets hungry, which defeats the point of having a stash,” you’ll tell him. 

“Kalim doesn’t even think to keep food on him,” Jamil will reply dryly. “All he has to do is ask someone to fetch him something if he’s hungry.”

This is the only time of his day in which he has a moment for himself. Yet, he doesn’t mind sharing a piece of his time with you. You have common sense; you don’t irritate him unnecessarily; you’re clever and useful. That’s all it is, and no more than that.

“You look at the prefect a lot,” Kalim remarks once.

“I don’t,” Jamil replies. “Since they’re our guests, I’m just taking it upon myself to make sure their needs are met.”

Still, perhaps Jamil has gotten too used to your presence if even Kalim notices, though Kalim has always had his moments of unnerving emotional perception.

Several weeks or so later, you, Grim, Jamil and Kalim are passing time in the lounge. The four of you are supposed to be “studying” (read: you and Jamil are going over class notes, and Kalim and Grim are playing some nonsensical card game whose rules they keep making up). Occasionally, though, when he looks up, he’ll meet your gaze, and you’ll make a silly face at him. It’s cute, not that he would ever tell you that.

He’s just put his pen to paper when Kalim exclaims, in a voice louder than it needs to be, “Ramshackle is fixed?”

“Yeah, they just got it done. But dunno if I wanna go back tomorrow,” Grim says. “We’ve got a nice gig here.”

“You can stay for as long as you want,” Kalim says. “Oh, and feel free to visit as often as you want, too! It’s going to be lonely without you two!”

A blotch of ink is forming under his pen, staining his paper with a dark pool. Of course. How could he forget? Your time here is temporary. You were always going to leave, and it’ll be a relief to have two less people to worry about. 

He only feels so strange because he’s fallen into a habit of greeting you every morning, and seeing you every night. It’s simply difficult when his routine is shaken in unexpected ways, that’s all.

Jamil risks a glance at you, but your head is still bent over your paper. He can’t make out your expression, but your hands have stilled over your notebook. What are you thinking? He won’t be able to find out until tonight.

Grim and Kalim chatter in the background, returning to their game, but you and Jamil are both weighed down by unexpected silence. The blotch on his paper has grown, ink staining and spreading. There’s no way to fix it now.

The evening passes slower than usual. Jamil finds himself hurrying to the kitchen, the moon lighting his way as he flies with silent steps. However, several feet away, voices and warm light spill out from beneath the door.

Jamil’s pace slows, something sludgy and dark churning in his stomach. He doesn’t want to look, but he has to. You’re in the kitchen as usual, elbows propped against the counter, a plate of cookies resting beside you. And right next to you, his smile glowing like the sun, eyes crinkled in foolish complacency, is Kalim.

The two of you are engaged in some conversation about classes or extracurriculars. As Jamil stands in the pool of shadows, outside the reach of the light, all he can think about is how wide your smile is, an ease in your stance that only Kalim can bring out in people.

“Hi Jamil!” Kalim chirps, head perking up in his direction. “You can’t sleep, either? I was just going to grab something to eat, but then I saw the prefect was here!”

“No,” he says. “I wasn’t able to.”

“Come join us,” Kalim urges. “Do you want some of these cookies?”

“I’m not hungry.”

The thing about wanting, Jamil finds, is that it’s useless. Desires like his will only go unfulfilled, because, after all, he can never put himself first. Everything he does, everything he has, will only ever be given in service to Kalim. He’s doomed to forced mediocrity, to hide in the shadows to make Kalim shine brighter.

It’s a lesson he’s had to learn again, and again, and again. Nothing is his. He can only bite back his own useless anger, a snake choking on its own poison.

“I’m going to go on a walk,” he says.

“Okay! Come back when you’re done!” Kalim exclaims.

Jamil doesn’t meet your eyes as he strides away, keeping his steps even, measured, and fast. You’ll be gone by tomorrow, and he will still be here with Kalim, the shackles of an unchanging relationship and routine and future.

His body reacts before his mind can when he hears footsteps behind him, whirling around before your outstretched hand can touch him. It hovers in the air between the two of you, before you let it fall.

“Jamil,” you say. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just needed to clear my head.”

Your eyes are luminous, reflecting the silver of the moon. “Can I walk with you, then?”

“You left Kalim behind?”

“I was worried about you,” you say. “He’s all right. He was going to head to bed soon, anyway.”

He lets out a sigh, runs a hand through his hair. “All right.”

It’s a quiet walk. He’s learned to keep his footsteps silent, but you haven’t had to learn that same skill. It’s a strange comfort, the echo of your rhythmic steps, a constant reminder of your presence. He finds himself trying to match your particular pace.

“Grim and I are moving back to Ramshackle now that the pipes have been repaired,” you say. “They had to overhaul the entire thing.”

“It’ll be nice to go back home, I’m sure.”

“Yes, but I’ll miss Scarabia.”

“Like Kalim said, you’re welcome to visit.”

“Would you be okay with that?”

“If Kalim says it’s all right, I don’t see why not.”

You scuff at the ground with one of your shoes, as if you’re unsatisfied with that answer. “I’ll miss this too, you know.”

“Hm?”

“Getting you to myself every night,” you say. “I like Kalim, but I don’t really get to spend time with you alone like this.”

At some point while you’ve been talking, your steps have slowed to a crawl until you’re no longer moving. He’s stopped as well. You stare at him, unflinching, chin raised. What does he look like in your eyes?

“You say a lot of bold things, prefect.”

“You don’t get what you want if you’re not bold.”

That’s not true, he wants to say, but what would the point be? Right now, you’re still here. You’re with him. Your words are assured, confident, in a way that makes him want to believe you. 

“It’s a nice night,” he begins. “Nice enough for a flight.”

If Jamil was a better person, he could say the suggestion in his words is born from affection, an innocent desire to be close to you. After all, Kalim is the one constantly offering people rides on his magic carpet, as if the sky is also a luxury he can own. But he doesn’t own it, and he doesn’t own your time, either.

“Should we go for a loop around the area, then?” you say.

It takes little effort to find a broom and repurpose it for his uses; flight magic is a parlor trick, but magic has always come easily to him. What Jamil has to be more careful with is flying with another person as he drags the enchanted broom out to a balcony. You hop on with ease, keeping a suitable distance behind him, hands wrapped around the handle in front of you. 

You seem used to the process. Have one of your freshman friends taken you out like this? Or Kalim? Were you comfortable enough to wrap your arms around their waist with the unthinking nature of affection?

“Should I get closer?” you ask. There’s new mischief in your voice, as if you can sense his thoughts. If nothing else, Jamil is tangibly aware of the warmth and weight of you behind him.

“Only if you don’t want to fall off,” he says curtly. There’s rustling, and then your arms are sliding around his waist, hugging him close. Jamil is silently thankful for the fact you can’t see his face.

“It’s always important to be careful of flight safety. Vargas told us that, you know!”

“Don’t let go, then.”

With no more warning, he sets off into the air, ascending with a practiced ease and speed. Up, and up, and up, until he can disappear into the clouds, reach up close to touch the frosty brightness of the stars, until everything below him shrinks and disappears into insignificance and nothing matters except for this.

The wind kisses his face, the cool night enveloping him. He’s free. He could go anywhere, do anything, and there will be nothing to stop him. This is his, all his.

“How far do you think you can go?” you shout, raising your voice against the rushing air. 

“As far as I want.”

“Are there any places you want to visit, then?”

“Everywhere,” Jamil says. The wind frees an honesty in him he wouldn’t be able to afford otherwise. Or maybe it’s just because it’s you. “I’ve always wanted to go all over the world at some point.”

“Well, we have one night to do it all,” you say, playfully. 

“You want to come with me?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Your arms are still looped around his waist, the only spot of warmth against the cold night.

“It wouldn’t be too bad if you did.” 

In response to his words, you squeeze his waist once.

The two of you soar through the air for another hour, until you start shivering and Jamil brings his broom around, alighting on the same balcony you departed from. It’s over, but the thrill of his momentary freedom still hums in his blood.

Perhaps you’re feeling the same way, because neither of you make a move to head inside. Instead, you rest your arms atop the white stone balustrade, staring out at the sky.

“You’re leaving tomorrow,” he says. 

“Yeah. I can’t impose on you any longer. So, can you indulge me a little?”

“What is it?”

“Let’s spend a little more time together.”

“All right,” he concedes. You start making your way down the halls, a cheer lighting your steps. You’re heading to the kitchen again, and this time, it’s mercifully empty. No Kalim in sight, all the lights turned off. The only reminder of his presence is the empty plate left on the counter, which Jamil will have to wash later.

You drum your fingers on the marble island, some imaginary rhythm he can’t follow, before sliding down to sit against it, knees tucked up to your chin. You wave a hand at him, and he reluctantly sinks down until he’s cross legged, right next to you, on the cool tile floor. Shadows and appliances he uses everyday stretch out before him, but the darkness always makes everything a little unfamiliar.

“It feels like this is our secret clubhouse,” you say. “It’s nice.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah. I like spending time with you.”

“Why?” he asks. “I told you from the beginning. I’m not an interesting person. There’s not a lot I can do for you.”

Your smile is cheeky as you rest your head on your knees. “Let me tell you a secret, Jamil. Ramshackle was actually fixed a while ago. Grim and I could have left a lot sooner; he just let the proverbial cat out of the bag by accident today.”

“Prefect,” Jamil says, appraising you with renewed interest. “You’re slyer than you look.”

You wiggle your fingers. “You don’t get by without being a little underhanded, you know!”

Your conversation winds pleasantly through all manners of topics, from the mundane to the academic. The hours are ticking away, and he’ll have to get up in the morning to handle all his various responsibilities. But it’s hard to tear himself away from you, even when his limbs grow numb from sitting for so long. If Jamil leaves, he knows the moment will be over. Just for now, it’s the two of you, alone in your own world. 

You’re yawning when he finally broaches his question; he’s been waiting for just the right moment. “Prefect.”

“Hm?”

“Why didn’t you leave once Ramshackle was fixed?”

It’s hard to look away from you when you keep smiling at him like this, as if he’s being drawn like the tides by the moon: a helpless, and inevitable, phenomenon. “Because I want to say good morning and good night to you every day.”

“Oh.”

“Jamil?”

“Yes?”

“What about you?”

The thing about want is that Jamil is familiar with it; he knows acutely what it’s like to desire more than he should, to have it fester and rot from inside, as if it’ll destroy him if he doesn’t do something about it. Nothing is his, but maybe, just maybe, it would be okay to have just one thing, something he can’t let anyone else take from him, to selfishly cling to it.

 “I’m going to tell you good night, prefect. And when you wake, I’ll be the first one to greet you,” he says.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Even right now you’ll do it?”

“I’ll say it first if you want. Good night, prefect.”

 Good night, Jamil.” The sleepy excitement in just those few words alone is palatable.

You lean your head against his shoulder, and he shifts so it’s comfortable. Neither of you speak. From your even breathing, you might have fallen asleep already.

In a second, Jamil will move. He can wake you up just long enough for you to walk back to your room, or he’ll carry you if he has to. Then, he’ll slip into his own bed. If the two of you are caught together, it’ll cause too much commotion. 

But for now, Jamil will simply enjoy your presence, and tomorrow, he’ll be the first to tell you, “Good morning.”

[kamaluhkhan]

THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)

read part two GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you want revenge on luke castellan)

pairing: luke castellan x child of nemesis!reader (gender not specified)

word count: 8.5k

summary: luke hated your guts. he really did. he just hoped that no one could tell how, even after all this, you're still everything to him.

warnings/disclaimer: luke's POV. spoilers for the lightning thief and season 1 of pjo. some heated make-out sessions but no actual smut - MDNI / 18+. mentions of blood + death + alcohol. luke is 19 during tlt but i wrote this with him + reader being 21 by the end of this (this is important for the next part lol). anyways, luke + reader share clothes and lots of intense emotions they maybe possibly don't process in the best way. lots of ANGST - it's a greek tragedy fr!

author's note: welcome to my new hyperfixation! this fic is LONG but i hope she's worth it ♡

♪: the grudge by olivia rodrigo

(i. you have a sharp tongue)

fourteen year old luke was overwhelmed when he first stepped into the hermes cabin. it was loud and overcrowded and no one really seemed to care that they had a new cabinmate. the head counselor showed luke to an empty bed at the back, told him to get settled in, and left without another word. luke dropped his backpack before collapsing on the mattress. it was so thin that he could feel the springs dig into his back.

"you'll get used to it."

luke sat up to see you climbing through the window. 

you had a band-aid stuck on your chin, chipped nail polish the color of blackberries, and leather combat boots that looked way too heavy to be wearing in the heat of summer. 

“the shitty mattress?”

“i meant the whole chaos of cabin 11, and the way things work around here in general. if you can get used to the shitty mattress, all power to you.” 

your tone was friendly enough, playful even. you smiled at him so comfortably it made luke nauseous. 

“good to know.” he tried to smile back at you, but his heart wasn’t in it. “i’m luke, by the way.”

“yeah, i know. i’m —”

“y/n!”

you seemed entirely unfazed as the blond who called your name stormed over to you. you rolled your eyes, something only luke could notice, before turning to her.

“someone stole my candy.”

“i’m very sorry to hear that, maddy. gotta be careful around here.” your voice dripped like poisoned honey, deceptively innocent and sweet.

maddy was not having it. she huffed at you. “it was you, wasn’t it?”

“that depends. did you cheat at poker last night? again?” 

some of the chatter throughout the cabin paused, heads turning to listen in. 

“what? n-no!” 

“then you have your answer, maddy.” you exaggerated a sigh, as though you had already won the fight and were annoyed that she came back for more. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i have a new camper to show around.”

chiron had already given them a tour, but luke didn’t protest when you grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the window with you. your hand was warm in his as you dragged him along to the corner of the cabin where a poorly made ladder waited for you. 

“come on.” you started climbing, and only stopped to look down when you realized luke wasn’t following you. “best view of camp. trust me.”

a shiver passed through luke. trust didn’t come easy to him. he also didn’t particularly want to return to a stuffy cabin where all he would do was count reasons he did not want to be there.

 so, luke followed you. he sat down next to you on the roof and looked out at the sun shining on his new home, but he couldn't help but be slightly bitter. the gods had gotten all of you into this life of endless danger and battles and monsters, and this was all they had to offer in return: a summer camp. 

it just didn't seem fair. 

there was something else he noticed then. what was it that chiron had said? camp half-blood was supposed to be a safe haven for all demigods. 

“i don’t get it. there are only twelve cabins, but aren’t there, like, a million other gods?”

you straightened your posture then, and turned to luke with a newfound interest. 

“camp half-blood only has cabins representing the twelve olympians. apparently, they’re the only ones important enough to have children worth recognizing, and they can’t even do that half the time,” you explained, impertinence laced throughout your words. it seemed like something you could never quite get off your chest. 

every  demigod knew that the gods didn’t appreciate sarcasm. they  didn’t particularly like being called out on their bullshit, either.

you didn’t seem to care; you even rolled your eyes up at the sky, as if challenging zeus himself. 

“anyways, that’s why the hermes cabin is so crowded. it takes in campers who are unclaimed or whose parent doesn’t have a cabin at camp. like me.”

“so, who’s your godly parent?”

you fiddled with the leather cord on your neck. it held a few clay beads like the other campers, but there was one silver charm he noticed only you wore — scales, by the looks of it. you clutched onto it.

luke realized that, despite your own advice, maybe you resented having to get used to the way things worked around here, and having to hide your resentment. maybe that was worse than having to sleep on an uncomfortable bed for the rest of your life.

"nemesis. goddess of revenge."

"that's....hardcore."

you scoffed and moved on to twisting the silver ring on your index finger. "a lot of people take it that way, and i think it scares them a bit.”

“so that’s why you’re extra nice to new campers, huh?” 

“no, i was just in a good mood today.” you smirked.

“guess i was just lucky, then.”

luke couldn’t help but smile at your laugh — sharp, biting. you nudged your boot against his sneaker, which shifted you closer to him, shoulders practically touching. 

“what people don’t understand is that it's more about balance, you know? you do good things, and good things happen to you. at least, they should. you do bad things and….” you pulled out an outrageously big bag of candy, dropped it between you and luke, and winked at him. “you face the consequences.” 

“that makes sense.” luke leaned over to grab a handful of gummy bears. “like karma.”

“yeah. exactly.” 

you bit the head off a red bear, both of you chewing in silence before you added:

“by the way, i’m sorry about your friend.” you swallowed and caught luke’s gaze. 

chiron warned him that word would travel fast around camp about what happened to thalia, and luke had prepared himself for anything — anything but your reaction. there was no pity in your eyes; instead, there was a hint of rage, as though thalia had been your friend, too. 

“she deserved more.” 

luke’s eyes caught the glint of a knife strapped to your belt. he took another handful of the candy you stole, and he thought about the fire and fearlessness behind your words, and, despite everything, it felt right to be with you then and there. 

“yeah,” he finally whispered back. “she did.”

we all do. 

neither of you said those words, but the suggestion was there, and it felt like a promise. 

(ii. you hold on to every stupid, little detail)

“slow down, tiger.” 

your voice echoed throughout the arena, and if luke had been fighting a real opponent, it might have gotten him killed. instead, he just stopped mid-swing, sparing another straw dummy from losing its arm. 

“left hand,” you noted as you walked past him towards a bench. “you, my friend, are in need of a break.”

luke loosened the grip on his sword. the only time luke fought with his non-dominant hand was when he had overworked the other. he must have switched an hour ago, but judging by how heavy his arm felt, it could have very well been two.  

his curls were stuck to his forehead with sweat, his shirt soaked through. he could feel a dull pain behind his eyes, and luke was worried that if he stopped to catch his breath, he would pass out. or, even worse, have to face the reality of the shitty news he’d gotten early that day. 

“come sit with me,” you urged. “you’re exhausted, tiger.” 

luke bristled at your nickname for him. 

sure, luke loved that there was something only you called him, a secret kept between you in plain sight, but it was also a reminder that it was harder to hide behind the hero act when you were around.

everyone else at camp figured the nickname was a playful attempt at calling him strong and charismatic. the truth was that luke once told you that his favorite cereal as a kid was frosted flakes and that he would dream of playing sports as well as tony the tiger. for better or for worse, like most things, you wouldn’t let it go. 

case in point: if it was anybody other than you trying to get him to take a break, luke could have just brushed them off with a charming smile and continued swordfighting until his arms fell off, but in the two years since meeting you, luke had never met anyone as stubborn and convincing. like him, it seemed you were willing to fight and shed blood to get your way. luke was never really in the mood to make you bleed, even when feeling like he could burn the entire world down, so he usually gave in to your demands.  

as soon as he sat down next to you, you handed him an orange flavored energy drink — his favorite. anything other than water was hard to come by at camp without the enchanted goblets in the dining pavilion, or the right connection in the hermes cabin. he ran out of his stash the other day, but you must have noticed and gotten one of the stoll brothers to smuggle more in. 

“thanks,” luke said, ignoring the jolt of electricity that passed through him when your fingers brushed together briefly. 

 the two of you looked out at the sword arena, and all the straw dummies that luke had destroyed. you wait for him to take three big gulps of his drink before speaking again. 

“i guess chiron and your dad decided you weren’t ready for a quest.”

luke exhaled sharply. “how did you —”

“the only time you’d skip out on capture the flag is if something really shitty happened.” you looked down at luke’s clenched fists, and that seemed to be all the confirmation you needed. “you promised annabeth you'd be there, and it's not like you to let her down."

fuck. he had completely forgotten that tonight was annabeth's first time as team captain. this entire week, she had been prepping a winning strategy. it wasn’t like annabeth needed him to win, but luke was her big brother, and he should have been there. you were right — he had let her down. 

the realization made luke’s day go from bad to worse. 

"i told her you were helping a new camper with an emergency. she didn't believe it, but she adjusted her strategy and we still won.”

“well, thank the gods everything worked in the end,” luke grumbled. 

“don’t thank the gods,” you quipped. “thank annabeth chase for her brilliant mind, and me for covering for your sorry ass.”

when luke didn’t indulge in your usual playful banter, you moved closer to him and brushed some curls away from his eyes. your skin warmed his forehead, and the small gesture made him feel better than he had all day.

“look, i’m not going to give you some bullshit inspirational speech about how the gods don’t get to define what a hero is, or how you don’t need a quest to prove that you’re worthy of being one. we’ve each been through that before, and i have a feeling this won’t be our last time, either.”

“then why are you here?” the question came out harsher than luke had intended it to.

“because she’s trying her best to hide it, but annabeth is really hurt that you didn’t show up for the game. i figured the least you could do is suck it up, come to the campfire, and make her those signature luke castellan s’mores. you could probably use one, too, since you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” 

you were right, again. luke was exhausted, he was furious, but most of all, he was starving.  

later that night, luke sat next to annabeth and vowed to make her as many s’mores as she wanted. you’d gone to sit with the hephaestus kids, trying to convince beckendorf and nyssa to join your cabin’s post-campfire party at the beach, even though they had to work in the forges early the next morning. 

when chiron made his weekly speech, congratulating the winners of capture the flag and thanking the gods for keeping everyone safe, you and luke caught each other’s gaze from across the fire. you rolled your eyes and luke bit back a smile as you turned back to beckendorf. he noticed your knees were practically touching. did you sit that close to everyone? 

luke was looking at you for so long that the marshmallow he was roasting fell into the fire, despite annabeth’s warnings. she handed him another one. 

"you should tell her how you feel," annabeth said. "stop being a coward." 

whether it was the smell of burnt sugar, the heat of the fire, or annabeth’s comment, luke started to feel dizzy. he did his best to shake it off, asking annabeth for a play-by-play of her strategy earlier that night, but he couldn’t quite get rid of the thought of you. 

(iii. you don't care if your clothes are stained with blood)

“i just….i can’t fucking believe you, luke.”

“i don’t get why you’re so upset — you’ve never cared about quests before.”

luke was hoping to break the news to you after capture the flag. unfortunately for him, word travels fast around camp. 

annabeth had the two of you scouting the east side for the flag, while she and some other athena kids took the west. you hadn’t found anything so far, which meant that you’d spent the better part of an hour bickering over luke’s choice of companions for his quest. a choice that included charles beckendorf and chris rodriguez, and purposefully did not include you, much to your fury.  

before you could continue arguing, luke heard the sound of footsteps approaching. he looked over to you, and you already had your shield and sword at the ready. 

a few red defenders emerged from the trees. one charged at luke, but you stepped in so he could deal with the other two. one of his opponents went down fairly easily, but the other put up much more of a fight. metal clashed behind him as you kept fighting as well. you might not have been as skilled a swordfighter as luke, but he knew that you could hold your own, at least until he was finished with the person in front of him. 

luke parried his opponent’s strike, causing them to take a step closer. he was preparing to disarm them, just as he heard you yelp and stumble to the ground. it only took a millisecond of his attention, but it gave his opponent the opportunity to elbow him in the face. luke felt a crack upon impact, and pain radiated from his nose; he powered through. 

he had to finish this fight, and he had to do it fast. you needed him. 

his ears were ringing as he finally knocked over his opponent, kicking away their sword and keeping his foot on their chest. luke turned around to see you having turned the tides, the blade of your sword dangerously close to your opponent’s neck.

you locked eyes with luke, and you both understood — it was time to go. the two of you ran through the forest, as far away as you could before having to stop and catch your breath.

luke removed his helmet to get some air, and dropped his weapons. you did the same. you looked at him, brows furrowed.

“your nose.”

luke licked his lips, tasting blood. the triumph of winning that last fight overshadowed the ache of his potentially broken nose. in fact, he liked the image of a ruthless warrior emerging from the glory and gore of battle, that even though he did not bleed ichor like a god, he still had power. 

you, on the other hand, didn’t look impressed. instead, you stepped forward and offered the sleeve of your shirt to wipe away the blood. 

“you don’t have to —”

“i know you think you’re a badass walking around all broken and bloody, but you shouldn’t deny your admirers your pretty face,” you teased. 

it was no secret that luke had numerous admirers around camp, a fact you loved to tease him about. he was sure that you relished in how flustered that made him. all you had to call him was pretty boy, and luke could be reduced to a blushing mess. 

it was pathetic how much power you had over him.

“besides, i wouldn’t have gotten out of that last fight if you hadn’t taught me that disarming technique earlier. i owe you. it’s what we do. we take care of each other, right?”

he couldn’t argue with that.

a few moments of silence passed as you cleaned his face. something shifted as you worked, the flirtatious grin fading away. when you pulled away, your sleeve was stained a dark crimson. 

“just tell me honestly,” you finally murmured. “why don't you want me to join your quest?” 

luke was genuinely taken aback by the softness of your voice, now devoid of its usual fire. you wouldn’t meet luke’s eyes, but being that close to you, he noticed they were slightly glazed over.

he had expected you to be angry at his decision. he expected you to yell and argue and try to change his mind. luke hadn’t expected you to be so hurt. so broken. 

he hadn’t planned on it, but luke decided to tell you the truth then.

“look, karma, if you come with me, my heart wouldn’t fully be in the quest. i’d be so caught up in….well, you.”

a pause.

“is that a bad thing?”

“not usually, no.” 

you smirked a little at that, and luke’s heart skipped a beat. it also made his decision even clearer. 

“but i need to be focused for this. i need….” he let out a deep sigh. “i need to prove myself. this is my first real chance, and i can’t fuck it up.”

you met his gaze and smiled brightly at him, your signature spark of confidence returning.  

“you won’t.”

you reached a hand up to play with his necklace. luke hadn’t noticed how close you’d gotten until your fingers started tracing over those four clay beads. it made his entire body burst into flames.

“i’ve been wanting to do something for a while. and, aphrodite save me, it might be really stupid, but —”

luke took a lucky guess as to where you were going, and crashed his lips against yours. aphrodite knows that he'd been wanting to do that for a while, too. 

he often got drunk on the adrenaline of battle, the glory of winning, but nothing was quite like the rush of kissing you for the first time. 

it was messy and urgent, both of you aware that, at any moment, you could be interrupted. your noses were bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. the metallic tang of blood lingered on luke’s tongue, but neither of you seemed to care. you even bit his lip slightly, as if you wanted more. armor sat heavy and cold between your chests, preventing you from getting closer. luke had never loathed the protective gear more. 

he made up for it by lodging one hand underneath your jaw, and snaking the other beneath the celestial bronze, beneath the cotton of your shirt, admiring how your pulse quickened under his thumb when he grazed the soft skin of your stomach. you tangled your hands into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. he groaned and felt you smirk against his lips. 

luke had kissed a few people before, sure, but never like this: like a knife to the gut, and if you pulled away, luke would surely bleed out and die. 

it wouldn’t be a hero’s death, in the traditional sense, but at least he’d die happy. 

how many heroes could claim that?

when luke ran out of air, feeling like his lungs were burning, he had to pull away. 

you glanced down at luke’s kiss-bitten lips, then back to his eyes. luke flushed under the intensity of your gaze. 

“just promise me something, tiger,” you whispered, voice hoarse. 

“anything.”

“come back alive.”

luke leaned forward and placed another kiss on your lips, this one much gentler than before.

“i promise.”

(iv. you love like a scar that won't fade)

the nightmares were getting worse. 

luke woke up in a cold sweat, taking gulps of air in an attempt to steady his breathing.

“luke.” 

your whisper did little to quell the pit of dread growing in his stomach, but it did enough to bring him back down to reality. 

he was at camp half-blood (fuck the gods of olympus), in the hermes cabin (fuck you, dad), in a bed next to yours (fuck, if he could tell you what — who — was going through his head, he would).

“i’m…i’m fine,” he murmured back, voice catching slightly on the lie. 

like clockwork, you shifted from your bed to his, slipping under the covers. it didn’t matter that it was a hot summer night, and the minute your legs touched his, he could feel himself starting to overheat. 

your thumb brushed over the thick edge of his scar, up his cheekbone to the corner of his eye. it had been a year, living with this reminder. a reminder that he had failed, just as much as his father and the olympians had failed him. 

luke tried to pretend that he didn’t come back from his quest as a shell of who he once was. after all, it was meant to be his shining moment as a demigod, meant to gain him all the glory and father’s praise he once wished for. 

what a fucking joke.

every morning, luke would crawl into a different skin. he welcomed new campers and taught sword-fighting. he laughed with chris and his other siblings and strategized with annabeth for capture the flag. he would be the easy-going, charming, skillful senior counselor who respected the gods and honored them in everything he did. 

again: a fucking joke.

nights were different, though, with you so close to him, you who could always see right through him.

every night, luke was a fourteen-year old boy again, with so much rage and resentment he didn't know what to do with it. 

of course, you were always you - a bleeding heart underneath layers of armor. you didn't care about fate, or the gods, or the titans. you cared about justice, you cared about what was right and fair. 

most of all, you cared about luke.

“you were screaming,” you told him, voice barely cutting through the soft snores and sleeptalkings of your other cabinmates. 

“sorry,” he managed. looking at you in the dull moonlight, luke noticed the deep shadows under your eyes. 

“it’s fine. you just….you scared me, tiger.” 

your hand still rested on his cheek, and for a second, luke hoped you would kiss him, but you didn’t. instead, you told him to try and get some sleep, and sank further into his bed before closing your eyes. 

for the hundredth night in a row, luke hoped you couldn’t hear his heart hammering in his chest as you fell asleep next to him.

since coming back from his quest, luke didn’t have it in him to suggest being anything other than friends, and you didn’t push it. there had been a few....moments between you, sure, but nothing more.

luke thought you might have changed your mind, because who would want to be with a bitter, worthless, wannabe hero? then again, that voice haunting his dreams…. luke could change that. 

but, at what cost?

(v. you protect people as ruthlessly as a starving dog)

luke could hear you talking to percy jackson outside. though he couldn’t quite determine what was being said, as much as he tried.

you entered the bathroom and instantly caught luke’s eyes in the mirror. you were wearing your faded pyjama shorts with cartoon crows, and a flannel shirt that luke had a sneaking suspicion might have been his. you smiled at him before setting up at the counter, one sink between you. 

“what was that about?” luke asked after spitting out a mouthful of minty toothpaste.

“oh, nothing.” you were searching through your toiletry bag for something, and seemed to come up short. “hey, do you have any extra dental floss?”

luke threw some over to you. as you effortlessly caught it, he noticed your knuckles, bruised and bloodied.

“what happened?” 

you finished flossing and briefly examined your hands before pulling out your toothbrush. 

“it’s not a big deal,” you assured. “some ares kids were picking on percy, and then they started pushing him around, like, really pushing him around, so….” 

“....you decided to send them to the infirmary.”

you squeezed some toothpaste on your brush before continuing. “i don’t need you to lecture me about how i shouldn’t be fighting with other campers because i’ve been here longer and i should be a good role model. you know what a good role model does? not let kids beat up other kids and think the worst punishment they’ll get is no dessert for a week.”

luke watched carefully as you jammed the toothbrush in your mouth and brushed with such force, he was worried your teeth might dislodge. he knew that you would shed blood for someone you loved, and that you didn’t particularly care if you had to break rules in doing so, because you believed that what was written was not necessarily what was right. 

in fact, luke loved that about you.

no, it wasn’t the fighting that luke cared about — it was who you were fighting for. 

percy was a good kid, he really was. luke just didn’t want you getting attached. 

“i wasn’t going to lecture you. i’m guessing chiron already did?” 

you nodded and spat out what looked like a combination of toothpaste and blood. you rinsed your mouth until the water lost its pinkish hue. once you were done, luke continued his train of thought.

“i just didn’t realize you cared so much about him.”

“about percy?” 

luke could tell that he didn’t have your full attention. you were packing your stuff back up, accidentally tossing luke’s dental floss into your bag, but he had more pressing matters to deal with.

“yeah. the kid’s only been at camp for three days, and you’re already acting like his guard dog.”

you finally turned to luke and glared at him. 

“maybe. but percy’s sweet and he doesn’t seem like the type to put up with bullshit. he’s been through a lot, and annabeth seems to like him, too. as far as i’m concerned, percy’s one of us, and i’m not going to let anyone push him around.”

luke raised an eyebrow at you. “he’s sweet?”

“yeah. like, just now, he gave me some blue raspberry jelly beans as a thank you. said his mom used to work at a candy store. he also wanted me to apologize to you for him. he feels bad about beating you in sword-fighting earlier.” 

you scoffed, like you resented luke for having to apologize to him on percy’s behalf. you definitely did not appreciate that guard dog comment. luke clenched his jaw, seething over what you had just said. 

satisfied with his reaction, you gave luke that nauseating smile of yours, tilted your head towards the exit. a truce, because you never liked to fight with luke for too long, and a order, because you knew luke would always follow. 

the two of you began walking back to your cabin in the warm mid-june air. 

“i wouldn’t say he beat me,” luke huffed. “it was beginner’s luck.”

“sure, tiger. it was beginner’s luck that disarmed the best swordsman we’ve had in the last 300 years.”

you nudged luke’s shoulder with yours, but he recoiled from your touch. 

“are you trying to make me feel worse?” luke tried his best to avoid snapping at you, keeping his tone measured.

“i’m just saying that maybe the kid has natural talent and that doesn’t make you any less talented. there’s no need to get jealous.”

luke resisted the urge to growl at your suggestion. 

to be clear, he was not jealous. it’s just that luke had spent years of blood, sweat, and tears getting to where he was then, and percy jackson had just gotten to camp. 

and, to be even more clear, luke was not jealous of how you were already defending percy with your whole body and your whole heart, the way you did for him. 

by then, you reached the front of the hermes cabin. luke could already hear the commotion of what he would need to deal with as soon as he walked in. the burden of being head counselor, one he approached with an elastic smile that could snap at any moment. 

you tugged on luke’s sleeve before he could open the door. 

“hey. are we okay?”

luke looked down at your fingers grasping the fabric of a sweatshirt he was just realizing was yours. your nails were painted a dark red, now chipped after a week of wear. you had begged luke to paint his nails then, and once again, he gave in. he even started to like the purple you had chosen just for him, so deep it was almost black. the same color you were wearing the first time you and luke met.

he smiled at the memory — a real smile, no plastic — and then smiled back up at you.

“we’re fine, karma.” and he moved to enter the cabin. luke could hear the threat of an argument bubbling up, what sounded like a petty one over a prank gone wrong.

“wait.” you tugged at his (your) sweatshirt once more. “there’s something i wanted to talk to you about, about tomorrow night—”

“annabeth called a meeting during free time.”

“yeah, i know, it’s just —”

“she’ll run through strategy for capture the flag then.”

“one of the aphrodite senior campers asked me to the campfire,” you blurted it out, and luke decided to ignore the sound of a fight breaking out from behind the wooden door.

what in the name of hades were you talking about?

“they asked you out? like…like a….” luke didn’t even want to speak the word, scared it would make it real.

“a date,” you said casually, as if that one word didn’t rip luke’s heart in a million pieces. “i said yes.” an admission that took all those pieces and set them on fire. 

sure, in the seven years since you and luke met, you’d each talked about boys, about girls, about dating and kissing them and going further. but there was something about this one that felt different. something about the way you told him.

“but, listen, i wanted to let you know it’s not —”

“good for you,” was all luke said through gritted teeth before someone started calling his name again, louder and more urgently, and he had to duck inside.  

(vi. you taste like burning cherries and righteous anger)

your team had won capture the flag, of course. the biggest news of the evening, though: percy jackson was the son of the sea god. 

he was a forbidden child, the hero of the great prophecy. 

everything was falling into place. 

all luke should be thinking about is kronos’ plan, and his role in it, and how a world without the gods of olympus was that much more in reach.  

unfortunately, for the time being, he was so consumed by you. 

you, from across the campfire, sporting cutoff denim shorts and fresh wounds from the game earlier. you, who had wrapped your knuckles in gauze, concealing their bruising, fixed the chips in your nail polish and stacked rings on your fingers. (for the record: luke had gifted you the one on your left thumb.) you, with dark lips that whispered too closely and laughed too loudly with a child of aphrodite— jordan li.

you hadn’t so much as looked at luke since congratulating each other on another win. when chiron announced his weekly gratitude to the gods at the start of that night’s campfire, you didn’t punctuate your resentment with your usual eye-roll or biting remark. you were too busy giggling at something jordan said.

luke wanted to be the one to whisper jokes in your ear. he wanted to be the one you left lipstick stains on later, along his jaw and down his neck. he wanted to be the one who kissed the blade mark on your shoulder and the bruises on your knuckles. 

and yet, hours passed and it seemed that the thought of luke had never so much as crossed your mind. he found himself at an after hours party with a few senior campers on the beach. a lethal recipe: a poorly crafted bonfire, some contraband drinks and you in jordan li’s lap, playing with their hair and pretending luke castellan did not exist. 

meanwhile, luke had katie gardner’s full attention. she was talking to him about the strawberry season, potentially leaning a bit too close into luke’s personal space, definitely flirting with him. 

luke could have done a lot worse than the head counselor of the demeter cabin, who always smelled like fresh lavender, whose eyes were the bright green of spring grass and whose lips tasted like golden honey. 

the problem was that luke only wanted you, and his eyes kept sliding over to where you were kissing jordan’s cheek, and he accidentally called the girl he was kissing by your name, which did not make her happy. 

katie threw her drink in his face, told him to wake the fuck up, and walked away.

a chorus of gasps and chuckles erupted as luke stood there, diet coke and vodka seeping into his shirt. the commotion seemed to capture your attention, because you suddenly appeared next to luke, an empty bottle of cherry soda in your hand.

“rough night, tiger?” your voice, that nickname, made luke sick, his face twisting into a frown. you don’t seem to notice or care. instead, you switched your bottle with luke’s and took a sip.

“looks like you were having a pretty good time,” luke practically sneered. “where’s your date?” 

 “they went to bed.” you swallowed a mouthful of beer, grimacing at its bitterness. “gods, this is terrible. you and i should go on the drink run next time — we have better taste.”

“so, are you and jordan like a thing now?”

you gave luke a smile he didn’t quite understand, but made his stomach churn in ways only you could. “would that be a problem?”

“of course not.” he answered way too quickly for that to be true. 

“let’s get out of here,” you suggested. “i think katie is about this close to strangling you with a tree branch.”

luke glanced over your shoulder to where green eyes glared back at him. 

nowhere could luke find it in him to care. he wasn’t even sorry. he just shrugged, took the bottle back from you, took his first sip all night. luke almost gagged (because of course you were right, and the stoll brothers had better fake ids than they had taste) but he suppressed it. 

“no. i’m good.”

biggest lie he ever said. like there wasn’t anger caught in his throat and jealousy swelling between his ribs.

“go find jordan,” he taunted. “kiss them, show them a good time! isn’t that the reason why you got all pretty?”

you narrowed your eyes at him carefully. your nostrils were slightly flared, and luke took a bit of pride in being able to rile you up.

“look, we haven’t really talked lately, and i think we should.”

“go find jordan,” he mocked once more. “almost all the aphrodite kids are here, and i’m sure you can be quiet enough to sneak into their cabin and if you want a quick fu—”

“luke.” you clipped his name, obviously getting to the limit of your patience with him. “if you want to stay here all night and be an asshole, you’re welcome to. you should know, though, that your happy-go-lucky hero mask is starting to crack and i don’t know if you could deal with the fallout from it shattering completely.”

you leaned in close and whispered that last part, very aware of the chattering that stopped and the eyes that watched the pair of you anxiously. luke was usually good at hiding that part of himself who wanted to burn the world down. 

in ways you didn’t realize, you were right: he couldn’t risk revealing it, not now.

not yet. 

“do whatever you want, castellan,” you spat out his last name, the combination of letters foreign in your mouth.“i’m leaving.”

luke should be proud of himself. he waited a whole two seconds before following you like a stray dog. 

luke didn’t know if he’d ever felt you that enraged by him, and it horrified him. it also made him hungry for more. 

“i’m not sure that jordan would want the two of us alone together at night,” he shouted after you, words echoing into the starless sky.

“gods, enough about jordan!” luke practically ran into you with how fast you turned around to confront him. “i was helping them with that stupid aphrodite tradition!”

“you….” luke faltered, all the snark leaving his body. “what?”

luke remembered silena beauregard once explaining the rite of passage to him: to prove themselves, a child of aphrodite had to make someone fall in love with them, and then break their heart.

“why…why would you agree to do that?”

you had reached the dining area by then, and you sat on one of the steps leading to the pavilion. luke stayed a few feet away, looking at you cautiously. 

“jordan and i are already friends, and they figured a fake relationship would be the way to avoid anyone from actually getting hurt in the process.”

“you seemed so…so into it, though,” luke stammered, the memory of you in jordan’s lap, laughter bubbling from your lips, still fresh.

“it’s called acting, dumbass.” the camp didn’t rely on electricity, but there were enough torches around that luke could see you roll your eyes. “anyways, i was trying to give you a heads-up last night, but you wouldn’t listen.” you took a deep breath. “and, honestly, i didn’t push it because….i figured i should test a hypothesis.”

a hypothesis? you’d known annabeth for too long.

“what hypothesis?”

you hesitated. 

“it doesn’t matter. fuck, this was stupid,” you muttered, and without another word, stormed through the dining pavilion, a short cut to the hermes cabin. your footsteps fell heavy against the marble, and luke’s not far behind. 

“what hypothesis?” he asked again.

nothing but rushed footsteps.

“what hypothesis?” luke finally yelled.

third time was the charm, because you stopped in your tracks and faced luke once again. a fire burned in the bronze brazier, where campers were forced to offer up portions of your food to the gods at every meal. its roaring seemed to captivate you, and the flames danced across your face, illuminating all your curves and edges.

“i’m angry at the gods,” you stated. 

this caught luke off guard. from the day the two of you met, luke knew you shared that feeling. you’d gotten quieter with your rage as you’d gotten older. luke supposed he got better at hiding it himself, as well. 

“i’m angry at the gods for letting bad shit happen even if they can stop it, and for building this world in the fucked up way they did. i’m angry at your dad for the way he’s treated you, but — you, luke castellan.” you finally met luke’s eyes with a gaze so sharp, luke almost felt himself bleed. “i’m also angry at you, and not just for your bullshit tonight.” 

your admission felt like a punch to the stomach, and luke was left with no air to breathe.

did you know?

“you haven’t been the same since your quest,” you continued, words slow and deliberate, the way you spoke when you were worried your voice would shake. “and i’ve come to terms with that in the past few years, but you….you’ve never tried to ice me out before. you’ve been acting distant since december, and it’s been driving me insane. do you realize how much i miss my best …..” you swallowed the word friend. “how much i miss you?”

luke hesitated, because what could he say? i know i’ve been distant, but i’ve been busy trying to start a war between the gods. sorry babe! 

would you hate him, if you knew? 

you had to have known that, despite the distance, luke missed you. for tartarus sake, in the last two days, he’d driven himself mad at you calling a fourteen year old boy sweet, and he was about to combust at the image of you dating someone else, with little care as to the collateral damage. 

"you can't just avoid me, makeout with katie fucking gardner, and then….” you trailed off, hiding your face in your hands. whether it was to hide embarrassment or tears, luke wasn’t sure.

a smirk spread across luke’s face at the revelation that he hadn’t been the only one jealous at the bonfire that night. it lit luke up with the confidence he needed to not completely fall to his knees in front of you, beg for your forgiveness for everything he’s done.

“why do you care if i make out with katie fucking gardner?” 

as he waited for a response, luke walked towards you until your back hit one of the marble columns. 

“why do you care if i’m with jordan fucking li?” you clenched your jaw and looked right through luke. a clear indication that you wanted him to break down first; it wouldn’t be you who yielded this fight.

“because i want to be the one you’re with.” at that point, luke was so close to you that he swore he could hear your heartbeat. he reached out and played with the hem of your shorts. “why do you care if i make out with katie gardner?”

“because.” you drew in a sharp breath when luke’s fingers brushed underneath the denim, across the warm skin of your thigh. you closed your eyes. “don’t make me say it, tiger.” 

the desperation in your voice made luke want to do unholy things with you, to you. luke knew you didn’t think of him as a saint, and you never expected him to be one. the reality was that you weren’t much better, either. what was essentially an altar to the gods burned bright next to you, but it seemed neither of you had ever cared less about it than in that moment. 

luke would watch olympus fall. he would dethrone the gods and watch their glass castle shatter and find glory in a new world. in the grand scheme of things, he was willing to lose this battle.

in fact, he would have rather betrayed the titan lord himself than waste another second not kissing your lips. 

so, he kissed you, and you kissed him back with such force, such hunger, it was ungodly.

no, you certainly weren’t a saint — but you were divine, in the most brutal, intoxicating way. in the way you shuddered when luke lodged a leg between your thighs; in the way you threaded your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans to bring him closer; in the way the metal of your rings burned through the skin of his hip, right to the bone, which made him shudder, and you smile triumphantly against his jaw.

the more he tasted your smirk flavored by cherry soda and the ashes of nearby flames, the more he felt your feral teeth against his neck and your wicked nails digging into his shoulders, the more you tugged on his curls, the more luke thought: maybe. 

maybe you would give into your seething resentment, live up to those eye-rolls and snarky comments that got you in trouble with chiron, on the edge of hot water with the gods. maybe you would join the titan army. maybe, just maybe, this time, you would follow luke.

and yet — maybe wasn’t enough if it meant he could lose this. luke wouldn’t risk it, not until he kissed every battle scar and bruise on your body, and you did the same to his. 

“wait.”

it was the last thing luke wanted to do, but he complied. he took the opportunity to appreciate the chaos he created: your shirt in disarray, your lipstick a mess, your chest heaving and desperate to catch a breath. 

“i promised jordan that we’d keep up our charade for a week, two at the most. do you think we could keep this…” you tightened your fist around the fabric of his shirt. “a secret until then?”

luke responded by pressing his lips to yours once more, because there were definitely worse secrets to keep.

(vii. you wouldn’t hesitate to make him bleed)

luke had just left percy jackson to die.

he should be leaving camp, now, but he needed to see you one last time. 

the universe works in mysterious ways, because you were out on a run through the forest, and you crossed paths before he even had time to wonder where you were.

“hey, tiger.” you smiled as if this was a regular afternoon. the two of you would teach your afternoon activities, sneak away during dinner so luke could kiss you in that spot that made you gasp. “wanna join me? i was just wrapping up, but i could be convinced to go longer.”

for a second, he was tempted to. very tempted. 

“i don’t have much time.”

you seemed to notice luke’s sullen mood and you dropped your playful demeanor. 

luke explained: the messages from kronos in his dreams, him stealing the lightning bolt and helm of darkness to start a war between the gods and framing percy. the plan to destroy olympus that luke had pledged his life to.

percy was surprised at what luke had done, and luke could imagine that the rest of camp would be, too. luke was the golden boy of camp half-blood, everyone’s big brother. 

you, on the other hand, didn’t express any sense of shock. 

“luke.” you said his name like you weren’t quite sure it was poison. “i’m going to give you five seconds to tell me that you’re joking.”

five seconds of silence passed. you took a few steps back from luke.

“i….i should have told you sooner.”

“yeah,” you scoffed. “you should have. but, you didn’t. did it feel good, having the titan king whispering sweet nothings in your ear? all the lies about how this war is the only way to get the glory you so desperately want? it’s fucking delusional.” 

“it’s not delusional—”

“yes, it is!” you glared at him. “you’re on the wrong side of a war you made the mistake of starting.”

luke straightened his posture, thinking about how hypocritical you were being. 

“isn’t this what you’re all about? revenge, karma. your mom will probably join us, too. don’t you want to see the gods finally get what they deserve?”

“not like this. i can’t believe how desperate you are, to believe that kronos is going to make everything right. it’s pathetic,” you spat. “i’m not saying the gods don’t deserve to be taken down a notch. their fucking obsession with power and glory….it’s sick and twisted, but i don’t think your titan king is any better. i don’t think you are any better.” 

“it’s time that the gods fall. this is the only way, even if it isn’t perfect,” luke countered. his voice was firmer now as he absorbed your anger. your mother was the goddess of revenge, but you clearly didn't understand the sacrifices, pain, and blood that was required to make the world a better place.  

luke just needed to convince you.

“we’ve talked about this for years,” he continued. “nothing is balanced! there’s no justice here, for anyone.  we can build a better world where we don’t have to burn our scraps and throw ourselves at monsters to get attention. we can fight together like we always have. y/n, i love—”

“don’t,” you snapped. “don’t you fucking dare. you should have died on your quest.” your voice laced with venom. one hand gripping the knife you always kept on your belt. “that dragon should have fucking sliced through you and saved us all the trouble.”

something pricked in the back of his throat, down to his stomach.

“you don’t mean that.”

“i do,” you promised. “at least you would have died with all of us thinking you’re a hero instead of the traitor you really are.”

you grabbed your knife, took a fighting stance. 

“i’m not going to fight you,” was all luke could say. he noticed your hand tremble, and you tightened the grip on your knife to prevent emotion from slipping through your invisible armor. 

in that moment, you have could slice through luke, and it would hurt less than everything you just said, less than the murderous look you were giving him, like he was just another monster you wouldn’t think twice about sending to tartarus.

luke didn’t even have a chance to unsheathe his sword before you charged at him, but he quickly had you pinned to the ground, the tip of your own knife pointed at you. he hesitated. the blade pressed harder against your cheek than he intended, enough to break the skin and let a few droplets of dark crimson escape. 

“please come with me,” he pleaded. you didn’t answer, but you did seem surprised by the softness of his voice. 

a few moments passed, the celestial bronze still between you. luke waited for you to see his way, to yield to his proposal.

you didn’t. instead, you took advantage of the situation. you wrapped your leg around his and flipped your position. in the process, you regained possession of your knife. without the hesitation that held luke back, you sliced through his cheek, deep. luke bit his lip to suppress a groan, tasting blood. your gaze set his whole body on fire as he waited for your next move. that was when you glanced down at his camp necklace, and the new clay bead added to commemorate this summer.

a turquoise trident.

“percy told me he was on his way to see you,” you realized. “what did you do?”

luke didn’t answer. he knew then that a choice ran through your head. 

and it stung, just a little, watching you sprint away through the trees in a last ditch effort to save percy’s life. 

there was a small, pathetic part of luke that wanted you to choose him, even if it meant you would have plunged the knife into his chest.

[chrissssssmut]

How about a yandere fic for Karina for her b-day?

In where Karina invites her fellow idol Y/N to come celebrate her b-day in her home. Hopefully you add some smut 🫶🏻

HER BIRTHDAY, HER RULES

Karina x Male Idol Y/N

AN: Happy Birthday Karina! Decided to make this story first since its her birthday today! Back to regular programming!🥰💕

You hesitated outside the door, shifting the wrapped wine bottle in your hands. Karina had texted you personally a week ago.

“Hey Y/N. My birthday’s coming up. I’m throwing something small, just close friends. Would love for you to come.”

The fact that she’d invited you—you out of all the other idols—made your heart stutter a bit. You two had shared a few polite moments backstage at shows, stolen glances in green rooms, nothing more. Still, Karina had this way of making everything feel personal when she spoke to you. Like you mattered more than you should.

The door clicked open before you could knock.

Karina stood there, dressed in a silky midnight-blue robe that shimmered slightly under the warm lights behind her. It hung off one shoulder just enough to show the smooth slope of her collarbone.

“Y/N,” she purred, her lips tugging into a slow smile. “You made it.”

You smiled back, slightly stunned. “Of course. Wouldn’t miss your birthday.”

She leaned in, gave you a soft cheek kiss that lingered longer than expected. Her perfume was sweet—jasmine, maybe vanilla—and it fogged your brain just a bit.

When you stepped inside, the silence hit you.

No music. No chatter. No guests. Just the flicker of candles on the coffee table and a half-empty bottle of champagne.

You glanced around the penthouse. “Uh… am I early?”

Karina turned, pouring a glass like it was nothing. “Not at all. You’re actually the first one here."

She handed you a flute and raised her own. “Cheers.”

You clinked glasses with a soft smile. “To you.”

“To me,” she repeated, eyes locked on yours as she sipped.

Minutes turned into an hour. You sat on the couch, trading stories, laughing more than you expected to. Every few minutes you’d glance at your phone, expecting more guests to buzz the door, but nothing happened.

Finally, you asked, “So… are the others late or something?”

Karina blinked, then gave a tiny shrug. “They said they’d drop by. Maybe they flaked.”

She leaned closer, her fingers lightly brushing your knee. “But I’m glad you came. Honestly, I only really wanted to see you.”

Your throat tightened, heartbeat ticking a little too fast.

“Me?”

She smiled. “Yeah. You’ve been on my mind a lot lately. I figured tonight might be the perfect excuse to get you alone.”

Her words danced between casual and dangerously intimate.

You looked away, trying to collect yourself. “Maybe I should slow down on the drinks—”

Karina refilled your glass before you could protest. “Don’t be shy, Y/N. Just relax. It’s my birthday, remember? That means I get what I want.”

She sat closer, her thigh pressing against yours.

You took another drink.

Some time later…

Your limbs felt warm. Too warm. You were buzzing—not wasted, but definitely past the point of making sharp decisions.

Karina had settled on the floor in front of you now, sitting between your knees, her chin resting on your thigh. Her robe had slipped further, revealing the delicate strap of a lace bra.

“I always wondered what kind of drunk you are,” she murmured, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your knee. “Turns out you’re cute when you let your guard down.”

You chuckled, leaning back into the couch. “And you’re… kinda dangerous.”

She grinned, tilting her head. “Is that a complaint?”

“No. Just an observation.”

Her eyes darkened a shade. “Good. Because I like when you look at me like that.”

She leaned in closer, lips inches from your throat. “You know, I wasn’t lying when I said other people were invited. I just… never sent the invites.”

You blinked. “Wait—what?”

“I wanted tonight to be just us. I wanted…” She paused, her hand slipping up your thigh, slow, deliberate. “…to finally have you to myself.”

Your breath caught.

She leaned up, kissing your jaw lightly. “Tell me to stop.”

You didn’t.

She pulled back just slightly, eyes glittering with heat. “Didn’t think so.”

Your pulse was a wild thing beneath your skin, thudding in your ears like war drums.

Karina straddled your lap now, her knees pressing into the couch cushions on either side of your hips. The silk robe slid open as she moved, a glint of smooth thigh and lace flashing beneath it. Her fingers dragged up your chest slowly, nails light enough to tickle, but firm enough to leave you chasing every touch.

"You're so tense," she whispered, brushing your hair back. "Let me take care of you."

Your breath hitched as she leaned in, pressing her lips to your neck—not kissing, not yet. Just letting them hover, her breath hot against your skin.

“You have no idea,” you rasped, voice lower than it had been all night. “How long I’ve imagined this.”

“Oh?” she purred, dragging her tongue up the shell of your ear. “Tell me. What did you imagine, Y/N?”

You swallowed thickly, your hands finally moving to grip her waist. Her robe was hanging off her shoulders now, nothing between you but the thin silk belt and your self-control—both of which were about to snap.

“I imagined you like this,” you muttered. “On top of me. Taking control. Making me beg for it.”

Karina let out a soft, low laugh that vibrated against your throat. “Beg? You don’t need to beg. Not tonight.”

She leaned back just enough to untie the robe’s belt, slow and teasing. The knot slipped loose with a quiet whisper, and the robe fluttered open, revealing the full curve of her chest barely contained in a black lace bra, the matching panties hugging her hips like sin.

She reached for your shirt, tugging it up. “Off. I want to see you.”

You didn’t hesitate.

The second it was gone, her palms were on your bare chest, gliding, exploring—fingertips dragging down toward your abs like she was memorizing every inch of you.

"You've been hiding this under stage outfits and leather jackets? What a waste."

You laughed, breathless. "You watch me that closely?"

She smirked. "Only all the time."

Then her lips were on yours—no teasing now. No hesitation. Just heat. Her mouth was soft but demanding, her tongue sliding over yours with perfect control. She kissed like she meant it, like she needed it, and every brush of her lips made your body thrum.

When she pulled back, her lips were slick, swollen.

“I want you to do exactly what I say,” she whispered, grinding her hips against your growing bulge. “Can you be good for me, pretty boy?”

You groaned. “I’ll be whatever you want.”

Her grin turned wicked. “Lie back.”

You obeyed instantly.

Karina rose just enough to strip off the robe and toss it aside, then climbed back over you—only now, she took the belt from the robe in her hands. She leaned down and gently, with deliberate slowness, took your wrists and pinned them above your head.

She bound them together with practiced ease, then tied the belt to one of the couch’s vertical bars.

You tugged slightly, testing. Secure.

“Comfortable?” she teased, her eyes glittering with heat and something darker.

“Only if you sit on my face next.”

Her breath caught—and then she laughed, genuinely. “You’re cute when you’re desperate.”

She slipped down your body, kissing a trail across your chest, tongue flicking one of your nipples just to hear you gasp. Then she undid your belt, popped your jeans button with one hand, and tugged everything down in one swift motion.

Your cock sprang free—hard, leaking, and throbbing.

“Oh,” Karina whispered, staring for a moment before biting her lip. “Pretty.”

She wrapped her fingers around the base, pumping slowly, teasing you with feather-light strokes.

“Do you know how long I’ve waited to see this?” she murmured. “All those times backstage when you’d talk to me with that perfect smile, and I’d wonder… if you’d fuck me as well as you sang.”

“Why don’t you find out,” you growled.

She glanced up, eyes dark. “Oh, I will.”

Then she leaned down—and took you in her mouth, slow and devastating.

Her tongue curled around your shaft as she sucked, mouth hot and wet, lips stretched perfectly. She started shallow, teasing the tip with little flicks of her tongue, before taking you deeper, inch by inch.

You groaned, arms straining against the restraints.

She moaned around you, the vibrations making your back arch. Her hands pinned your hips down, keeping you still as she worked you over—messy, relentless, eyes locked on yours the whole time.

“Fuck, Karina—” you gasped. “Gonna cum if you keep that up—”

She pulled off with a pop, saliva trailing from her lips. Without a word, she let your cock rest against her tongue, then lightly slapped it against it—once, twice—watching the way it twitched, glistening with spit. Her eyes never left yours as she dragged her tongue slowly up the underside, savoring the mess she’d made.

“Not yet,” she said sweetly. “You don’t get to finish until I say so.”

Then she stood, peeled off her panties, and straddled you again—her folds glistening with arousal, her chest heaving.

You looked up at her, completely undone. “You’re evil.”

She grinned. “You like it.”

She reached down, guided your cock to her entrance—and then slowly, deliciously, she sank down onto you.

Both of you groaned in unison.

She was tight. Warm. Wet. You could feel every inch of her, the way she clenched around you, how perfectly she fit.

She started to move—slow rolls of her hips, rocking back and forth, her hands planted on your chest. Her rhythm was devastating, pulling you right to the edge over and over.

“Look at you,” she moaned, riding you deeper, harder. “Tied up, moaning for me. You belong to me now, Y/N. No one else is going to get you like this.”

You could barely speak—just gasps, curses, your body shaking beneath hers.

“Say it,” she demanded, picking up pace. “Tell me who you belong to.”

“You,” you choked out. “Fuck, Karina—it’s you. Always you.”

Her face lit up with something more than lust. Something fierce. Possessive. Triumphant.

She rode you harder now, skin slapping, your moans echoing in the room, tangled bodies slick with sweat and heat and everything you weren’t allowed to feel on stage.

When Karina’s rhythm grew erratic, her hands gripped your chest tighter, nails digging crescents into your skin. Her head dropped back, mouth parted, hair clinging to her damp neck as her moans turned into frantic whimpers.

“Fuck—Y/N—” she gasped, voice breaking. “I’m… I’m gonna cum—don’t stop—don’t fucking stop—”

Her thighs clenched around your hips, trembling as she rode you harder, faster, chasing that edge with a wild kind of desperation.

You reached up, your hands now free, grabbing her hips to hold her steady, thrusting up into her as her body tensed.

“Karina—cum for me,” you groaned. “I wanna feel you fall apart on me.”

That did it.

She let out a strangled cry as her orgasm slammed into her—“Oh my god—fuck, Y/N—yes—” Her hips stuttered, grinding down hard as her walls clenched around you, pulsing with heat and need.

Watching her come unraveled you completely.

“Shit—fuck—Karina—” you growled, eyes locked on her as your own climax surged through you.

You spilled into her, deep and hot, groaning into her neck as she kept moving—slow now, milking every drop, dragging her soaked folds along your cock with deliberate, overstimulating rolls of her hips.

“God, you fill me so well,” she whispered breathlessly, body twitching from aftershocks. “I can feel it inside me… so warm. So mine.”

You let your head fall back, completely ruined beneath her, chest heaving, sweat-slicked skin against silk and lace.

She leaned down, brushing her lips over yours with a satisfied smirk.

You lay back, skin damp, your heartbeat still stuttering as Karina curled up beside you on the couch.

“Happy birthday,” you breathed.

She smiled against your shoulder. “Best gift I’ve ever had.”

Then, after a pause, she whispered:

“You’re mine now, right?”

Your head turned. “Huh?”

She was still smiling, but there was something unreadable behind her eyes now.

“I mean, after tonight… there’s no going back. You know that, right?”

Her fingers trailed your chest, light but possessive.

You swallowed hard.

She leaned up to kiss you again—slow, sweet, and a little bit dangerous.

And in that moment, you couldn’t tell if you were drunk on the alcohol… or her.

[shyoko]

can i suggest something? can you do an ot7 enhypen story where the girl makes a prank saying that "their dicks are too small" btw i love you don't explode 😭😭

☆Prank saying that "their dicks are too small".☆

This writing is my own; no copies, adaptations, or translations are allowed. I hope you like it. (English is not my first language.) 

✦ 2.3K words✧ adult cont! teasing* Masterlist˚ Taglist✧ Requests “Open”₊‧ ✦𓂃  ✦Taglist: @lezleeferguson-120 @nuki-riki @ijustwannareadstuff20 @vvenusoncasual @miellette @enhacolor @xxkatsusjinsux @somieverse @ourshin

A/n: I hope you like it very much. I love you too. 🩷🩷

✦Adult content✦

Heeseung☆

Heeseung moved his fingers deftly over the keyboard, stringing together attacks in his video game. His hands moved with mesmerizing speed, awakening a burning desire in you. You knew you shouldn't interrupt him-all his friends could hear him through the headphones-but... if he kept quiet, there would be no problem.

You approached, and upon noticing your presence, Heeseung turned his face. His gaze met your innocent smile, all too aware that he was hiding something.

“What is it, honey, do you need something?”

“You!”

Your friends' laughter burst out of their headphones. Heeseung sighed, muting the microphone.

“I finish this game and I'm with you, okay?”

But then he turned it back on and, with dangerous confidence, blurted out:

“She's so desperate.”

The guffaws were not long in coming.

Oh, this was a war.

You knelt under the desk and pulled down his pants in one motion. Heeseung flinched, his eyes darting between the screen and you.

“Honey...” he murmured in warning.

You smiled before speaking loud enough to be heard.

“Your dick looks small.”

Laughter erupted instantly.

Heeseung reddened, but when his dark eyes bore into yours, you knew the truth.

It wasn't embarrassment. It was anger.

And he wasn't about to let it go.

“Can you two concentrate on playing and stop laughing you assholes?”

He laid his eyes on you, and only you. And before he said a word he roughly lifted you up and glued your chest to his desk leaving his hooves right next to you so his friends could hear everything.

“Come on honey, if you apologize maybe I'll think about fucking you silly right now.”

You stirred in his arms trying to find his touch. 

Which he did with no problem sticking to your ass hard, feeling his entire length so close but so far away from you.

“S-sorry” you whispered.

His hand slapped you. 

“Who's the one who fills you so well? Who? Come on say it, sweetheart.” 

he laughed dryly as he felt your body tremble beneath him.

 “You, j-just you.”

 “That's right, just me.”

Certainly your friends had a show that night. 

jay☆

After a heated make-out session, Jay received a call from his company. They informed him that he was to attend a brief meeting to discuss some relevant issues before his return.

“Fuck...” he muttered in annoyance as he hung up.

After stealing a couple more kisses from you, he reluctantly said goodbye and walked out.

Minutes later, your phone vibrated with a message from him:

“This is torture. I feel so tight in my pants.”

“Damn, this is so embarrassing.”

“I hope no one notices.”

You smiled, amused, and decided to play a little.

“It's okay, baby. I'll take care of you when you get here.”

“Besides, you shouldn't worry...your dick isn't big enough to be noticed.”

Okay, maybe the joke was too much, but you were dying to see her reaction.

It wasn't long in coming.

“Excuse me?”

“Are you sure about what you're saying?”

“Because I'm not the one screaming my head off about how good my dick feels.”

“I'm not the one who gets desperate to have it inside her, to the point of sending audios and pictures begging for attention.”

“Nor am I the one who waits for me many nights naked and open, begging for me.”

“So tell me, are you really sure of what you're saying?”

Your face burned as you wrote hurriedly:

“Oh, for God's sake, shut up right now!”

“Shut me up.”

“And while you're at it, rest that throat.”

“Because when I come, the last thing you'll do is be quiet... So look forward to my return.”

Your body shuddered at the implied promise.

The night would be a long one.

Jake☆

Jake's long, skillful fingers moved deftly over you, provoking a myriad of sensations that took your breath away.

Your soft gasps filled the room, mingling with the sound of his labored breathing. “God, baby...” he murmured with a smug smile, enjoying the way you reacted to his touch ”You're so wet for me.”

His words further ignited the heat coursing through your body.

“Do you think you're ready for me yet?” he asked softly, in complete contrast to the intensity of his movements.

Your mind was blank, caught up in the pleasure... until suddenly, he pulled away, leaving you with an empty feeling and a silent protest on your lips.

“Shh... it's okay, baby. You'll feel even better now” he whispered, his tone laden with promise.

He positioned himself against you, the tip of his dick at your hole ready to go deep, but before he could continue, an idea crossed your mind.

“‘Baby...” you whispered, with feigned innocence. “I prefer your fingers, they're much longer.”

The silence that followed was almost palpable. Jake blinked, processing your words.

You had just implied something that was far from true.

His jaw tensed and, in a single motion, he caught your wrists in one of his hands, lifting them above your head.

“Stop teasing” he spat with a scowl, his intense gaze riveted on yours.

“I know you love my hands, but you know damn well you're dying for it to be my dick inside you right now.” 

“I said I prefer your fingers-”

You didn't finish the sentence.

A loud gasp escaped your lips as Jake entered you, he was deep inside you, his hips delivering thrust after thrust.

“How about now, baby?” he murmured against your ear, his voice velvety in perfect contrast to the way he enveloped you.

His gaze descended to your belly.

“Look where I am...” he whispered, with a satisfied smile. “Are you sure you prefer my fingers?” he pointed to your belly where the outline of his dick was noticeable.

Your only response was a shaky moan.

Jake laughed softly, leaning over you as his fingers slowly traced your skin.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this...”

Sunghoon☆

Your hands slid gently down Sunghoon's body as you descended little by little, tracing him with light caresses. Deftly, you unbuttoned his pants and slid them down along with his boxers, exposing the evidence of his desire.

You gently wrapped your fingers around him, feeling his warmth against your skin.

“Mmh~” a small sound escaped your lips.

Your mischievous gaze settled on him before you blurted out, with feigned innocence:

“You seem smaller than I remembered.”

Sunghoon froze, his expression hardening instantly.

“Excuse me?” his tone took on a dangerous edge.

“I'm just saying I remembered it bigger, honey.”

You smiled, giving away the lie.

His eyes narrowed, and before you could react, his fingers tangled in your hair with a firm grip.

“You have no idea what you're getting yourself into, princess.”

“Now I'll keep that damn mouth busy so you'll stop talking nonsense” He tugged at your hair, forcing you to look up at him.

“Understood?”

You averted your gaze, silently challenging him.

His grip tightened.

“I asked if you understood. Answer. Now.”

Your breath trembled.

“ U-understood...” you whispered.

A deep chuckle escaped his lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Good girl” he murmured with satisfaction before firmly guiding your head until it bumped against his dick.

You didn't need any more directions. You knew exactly what to do.

Your lips began to spread soft kisses, causing her breath to hitch. You played, you teased, you enjoyed the anticipation, but Sunghoon was not one to tolerate that kind of torture.

“Stop teasing” his gravelly voice made it clear that his patience was wearing thin.

“Open up” It didn't take you long to do as he asked by letting him enter your mouth. Quickly your eyes filled with tears from the rough thrusts he was delivering to your throat.

His fingers brushed your cheek with deceptive tenderness, wiping away the moisture built up in the corners of your eyes.

“Now, why don't you start by apologizing to me?” he whispered, his tone mixing gentleness and authority. “Before I decide to teach you what it really means to play with me.”

The air grew thick between you.

You definitely wouldn't come out of this unscathed.

Sunoo☆

You and Sunoo wandered aimlessly through the store, exploring each aisle leisurely.

When you reached the children's section, your eyes fell on tiny Spiderman print boxer shorts. The thought made you smile mischievously.

“Look, baby. For you” you joked, holding them out in front of him.

Sunoo frowned, clearly offended.

“There wouldn't even fit a part of my dick-” 

You didn't give him a chance to finish. Quickly, you covered his mouth with your hand, before he blurted out something like that in the middle of the children's section. 

“Sunoo!” you whispered in disbelief. “Are you listening to yourself? You can't say that in here...”

A laugh crashed against your hand, sunoo grabbed your wrist and pulled it away from his mouth pushing your hand down. 

Sunoo had placed your hand right on his erection, startling you. You froze as you felt the warmth of his body under your touch.

His hips moved gently but desperately against your hand, trying to soothe the big problem that was growing by the second inside his pants. 

Sunoo leaned toward your ear, her voice barely a murmur laden with intent.

“L-let's go...” he whispered, urgently, tugging gently on your wrist as he headed for the exit.

The ride to the car was silent, but the tension between the two of you was evident.

As you sat in the passenger seat, Sunoo exhaled with a shaky sigh, her gaze meeting yours.

“Take care of me...” he asked in a low tone, his expression reflecting a mixture of anticipation and restrained desire.

 He opened his pants and pulled his dick out without pulling them down, just leaving enough room for it to come out. 

Your hand slowly slid down his thigh, enjoying the anticipation in his eyes. Finally you circled his length eliciting a half-hearted sigh. 

Definitely, the wait until you got home would be too long, as you wouldn't get home without him finishing first.

Jungwon☆

You were on the couch, pretending to be on a call with your friends, just to see Jungwon's reaction.

“He's very cute, the only bad thing is that he's not very big let's say” you said with feigned indifference, making sure he was close enough to hear you.

You waited for some kind of response, but Jungwon ignored it completely. Two hours passed and he didn't even mention the comment, which made you think that maybe he hadn't heard it.

Instead, in the evening, when his lips took yours, you realized how wrong you were.

His kiss didn't have the usual sweetness; it was more intense, more demanding. His tongue pushed its way in firmly, while his hands roamed your body with a possessive touch.

Clothes piled up on the floor, your hands took over everything until he ended up on your breasts. You were ready for more, for him, but just as he was about to continue, he suddenly pulled away.

“Where are you going?” you asked, puzzled.

Jungwon looked at you calmly, but his tone was anything but innocent.

“To the living room. I don't think my dick will satisfy you, so you'd better take care of it yourself.”

You froze.

“N-no, wait...” desperation seeped into your voice as you stood up and pulled him to you. “It was a lie, I promise.”

Jungwon tilted his head, enjoying your reaction.

“ Darling, it's no problem. I'm sure you can manage without me.”

But before he could take another step, you clung to his neck, your lips searching for any way to stop him.

“Please...I was stupid” you whispered against his skin. “I can't without you...”

Your eyes were glazed over, and he noticed immediately.

Without a word he took you in his arms and placed you on the bed towering over you.

“You look so sweet crying for me...” he murmured with a satisfied smile....

He leaned over you, his gaze dark and full of intent.

Finally, he gave you what you so desperately needed, making sure you learned your lesson.

Ni-ki☆

You shed your clothes at the same time as Ni-ki, feeling the warmth of her hand taking yours as she guided you into the shower. The water began to fall, sliding down your bodies as steam enveloped the atmosphere.

A soft chuckle escaped your lips.

“What's wrong?” asked Ni-ki with a smile, not understanding the reason for your amusement.

“He looks so adorable when he's asleep...he looks tiny” you said, pointing down mischievously.

Her smile faded instantly. His eyes darkened and, without warning, his hand closed around your neck with a firmness that made your breathing quicken. In one swift movement, he spun you around and pushed you gently against the wet shower wall, pressing his body against yours.

A gasp caught in your throat.

“I remind you that this dick” his deep voice echoed in your ear “is the same one that leaves you shaking every time. So stop talking nonsense...or you'll go a month without it.”

The heat radiating from her body, added to the contrast of the water sliding across your skin, made you shiver. Her hips brushed against you with intentionality, her grip on your neck intensifying from time to time, as if marking each word with her touch.

Every second that passed, you could feel him growing up right behind you seeing more clearly the effect your joke had had on him. Ni-ki grabbed your wrist and forced you to turn around, facing his chest, noticing the difference in height between the two of you.

He moved even closer, forcing you to lower your gaze.

And then you saw it.

The size difference was overwhelming. How in just a few minutes he had been able to grow to the width and length he was now.

“Well, baby?” he murmured with a sly grin. “Does it still look adorable now?”

Your pulse shot up.

You were definitely in trouble.

[hamilando]

ੈ✩ he is …. drunk? (smau) ੈ✩

pairing : lando norris x fem reader

summary : the chaotic process of Lando getting a wife

fc: Olivia Culpo

a/n : This is a series, and this is THE FINALE , THANK YOU FOR BEING PART OF THIS ! it was requested anonymously, thank you for requesting it 🫶🏻

·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･ ✩ ･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4 and 838,297 others

f1wags THE PROPOSAL WAS OF LANDO NORRIS AND HIS GIRLFRIEND OF 4 YEARS, Y/N CULPO

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user1 EXCUSE ME WHAT-

user2 miss rabbit has fainted 🫷🏻

user3 the plot twist no one expected 🗿

user4 I KNEW IT

user5 max posting the best man duties makes more sense now

user6 after all that fight, max is still lando's best man !?

user7 MRS. Y/N NORRIS

user8 lando, got tamed

user9 I will miss his fratboy party era 😔

user10 his party era started cuz of yn-

user11 both of them are party animals 😂

user12 THEIR KIDS WOULD END THE WORLD

user13 talk about talent and looks

user14 but lando's talent is damaged 🙃

user15 can you stop hating on him ?

user13 it's a f1 meme 🗿

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, fransisca.kgnomes and 1,849,389 others

ynnorris since 24'

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user1 THE USERNAME

user2 OH MY GAWDD

user3 he did good on that ring

user4 I HAVE THE SAME RING FHFHFHF

user5 SPILL THE DEETS

user4 it's a darry ring, you can only buy it once in a lifetime 🥹

user6 lando 🥹

landonorris from 24 to forever 🌅

liked by ynnorris

maxverstappen1 now he can finally stop eating our brains

alex.albon FINALLY AND YES , WELL SAID MAX

pierre.gasly he did good mate

charles.leclerc thank God he didn't stumble

carlossainz55 or fall in the ocean

ynnorris it's my engagement..? can yall congratulate?

maxverstappen1 oh, Congrats to the norris couple!!

alex.albon congrats 👏🏻

lewishamilton Congrats Y/N and Lando !! 👏🏻

liked by ynnorris

alex.albon HEY, EVEN I SAID CONGRATS, I DON'T GET LIKE !?

ynnorris no.

fransisca.kgnomes lots of love my wife

ynnorris he is just a side quest, dw 😘

liked by ynnorris, maxvertsappen, mclaren, pierre.gasly and 1,472,937 others

landonorris to forever saying yes to my queen 🌟🌅🧡

comments on this post have been switched off

liked by ynnorris, landonorris, kellypiquet, alex.albon and 1,987,478 others

maxverstappen1 d1 best man ( Y/N, we just gave him a few shots to calm down and stop revising his vows )

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user1 MAX KNOWS WHAT WE NEED

user2 MAXMILIAN YOU ARE PLAYING A DANGEROUS GAME

user3 THOSE PICTURES OF LANDO !?

user4 MARRIED LANDO HITS DIFFERENT

user5 HITS HARDER THAN MY BELT

user6 HITS HARDER THAN A HANGOVER BEFORE MATH

user7 HITS HARDER THAN DRAKE

user8 ayo wtf-

ynnorris if he drops down or shows up drunk, max your ability to produce heirs is gone

maxverstappen1 Kelly will fight you on that

ynnorris will she now ?

maxverstappen KELLY!? say something !?

ynnorris that’s what I thought

landonorris you just had to post the middle picture didn’t you

maxvertsappen1 yes, that’s what you get for crashing into me

landonorris and the way you crashed into my heart ?

alex.albon THATS MAX NOT Y/N

george.russell HE IS DRUNK

alex.albon WAY TO GO MAX

lewishamilton get the chap to sober up, if he doesn’t, I will snap his neck

ynnorris I love you Lewis 😭🧡

lewishamilton anything for you 🫶🏻

landonorris can you guys like not ?

landonorris it’s my wedding day and let me get married ?

landonorris we can see to yours and Y/N’s engagement later

landonorris wait.. Y/N?

landonorris ISN’T SHE THE ONE MARRYING ME !?

landonorris Thank you lewis for telling me about her cheating

maxverstappen1 THATS IT HE IS WAY TOO DRUNK

ynnorris y’all have 1 hour.

liked by landonorris, user1, user2 and 3,389,334 others

mclaren and it's signed now as Mr. And Mrs. Norris !!

view comments

user1 AHAHAAHAH

user2 THEY LOOK SO PRETTY

user3 LANDO SIGNING OUR MARRIAGE PAPERS

user4 mate, get over the delulul

user5 HER GOWN IS EVERYTHING

user6 BEST WISHES

user7 NOW HURRY UP AND HAVE KIDS

user8 NEXT PROJECT VERSTAPPEN

user9 NEXT PROJECT MCLAREN

user10 let the kid breathe

user11 he isn’t even born -

user12 LET IT BE A GIRL AND THE GRID AS UNCLES 🥹🐻

user13 IS LANDO HUNGOVER ?

user14 Lando keeping up the name of his frat boy era

user15 Landon being drunk for his wedding is iconic 😭

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, and 329,482 others

f1news After party pics from the Norris-Culpo Wedding !

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user1 fernando looks like a godfather

user2 GEORGE THAT YOU !?

user3 CHARLES THE GLOBAL FUCK BOY

user4 HE IS LITERALLY A GOLDEN RETRIEVER

user3 I AM TALKING ABOUT THE PICTURE!

user4 YOU CANNOT INSULT HIM LIKE THAT

user5 CAN YOU BOTH STOP FIGHTING!?

user6 lando and and his never ending saga of getting drunk

user7 NOT THEM DANCING ONE NIGHT AND NEXT DAY CRASHING INTO EACH OTHER

user8 max, darling you need to stop drinking and getting that man next to you to drink 😭

user9 I can just tell that Kelly and YN are both done with them 😂

user10 the George and fernando pic is so going as my wallpaper

f1news ours too !

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