#he did it for her but did he? is he in denial?

[wisgoat]

I am not gonna pretend. I wasn't a petty unhinged asshole perfect victim who did nothing wrong, cuz I lashed out and I was scary and uncomfortable to be around as I was facing salem's ex and their friends constantly harassing and bullying me sending me crazy transphobic things, feeding mine and salem's stalkers private informations they are in no right to share, denying ever doing it amd constantly playing the victim like it's a normal thing to just release to the public someone's disability earnings and to disclose exactly how he uses it, there has been so many instances of just breeches of privacy, genuine obsession and gaslighting and I did lash out at the person doing all of this a lot.

The fact they demand a public apology from me and salem after being a sex pest, obsessing and publicizing and speculating about our Sex life in the most intrusive and inappropriate ways, hanging out and being okay with people who are extremely fucking transphobic towards me, and straight up just called me a breeder TIM who will never be a woman, nothing else than salem's fetish? Really? You're gonna complain I was an asshole to you? When all you do is not only reblog, and add context and clarify and add details to my stalkers and help them stalk me easier, you also deny doing that and say you're just sharing your experience and how dare I even insinuate you're stalking us. Let go of salem. He is not coming back to you. Stop being in fucking denial and stop trying to get us to break up. You act like your page which is filled with fucking crazy lies and smears and exaggerations among some things that are true that I did that were genuinely awful, nasty responses to being stalked, you act like it isn't used in like 15 callouts where you put selfies of me next to porn salem made, acting like you aren't the direct reason why he was ran offline for nearly half a decade now. Youre always saying "I didn't mean to, it wasn't me, I only put your faces, fetishes, steamID, earnings, ethnicity, gender, exact days you were born, if I had phone number I would put it in there too, every single friend I have that's not involved in any of this, and also random bad faith reading of a post in a way that makes you a pedophile and zoophile, but im allowed to talk about my experiences"

You're full of shit! You spun me into a devious crypto nazi because i shared a story how i was abused by my dad who was very reactionary and basically a nazi, insinuated i only transitioned to escape this so i socially am not seen as a nazi, you hang out with people who call me an ARYAN FUCKINH PERSON or simply just "white european". IM POLISH, MY GREAT GRANMA WAS A SLAVE FOR NAZI FARMERS, MY GRANDMA LIVED THROUGH THE WAR TOO, DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH MY FAMILY HAD TAKEN AWAY FROM AND SUFFERED BECAUSE WE WERE NOT TREATED AS WHITE ENOUGH. Of course you dont, why would you. You're a dumb fucking american who knows nothing about the world, thinking the fact ur partially Mexican absolves you from ever educating yourself. Get a grip.

All that while spewing straight up hitler level anti sex purity culture narratives and demanding we both act to your morals. Nevermind that ive seen drawings you made that are embarassing and fantasized about everything you called me out for, and everything you called your ex you did to her and fantasized about it. You can deny it say i have no proof but ask me this. Do you really want me to? Do you really want me to post porn you made that's embarassing the same way you did to both me and salem? Or are you doing this just to avoid responsibility of having to justify or saying sorry for things you did.

You're not getting an apology from me, go fuck yourself and as for what i want from you, i want every moment of your life to be filled with grief and guilt that you are capable of doing this to someone and that youre not a perfect victim. It's the least you deserve, and I dont care what yoy do as long as i dont have to deal with my boyfriend's ex discussing how my boyfriend secretely doesnt love me and how we like to have sex and this and that ITS NONE OF YOUR FUCKING BUSINESS YOU CREEP

[aleese1111]

Hello there! I'm you don't take requests anymore since it's closed but tbh there's an idea that has been nagging me for the past few days if you want ofc could you do a Geum seong je x Na reader

In which she's Na Baek Jin's lil sis who's younger than him by a year and that she's so into Seong je despite him ignoring her and being kinda mean to her, thank you for reading this, don't stress yourself, stay safe and dehydrated🫂

With love anonymous 🫶🏼

two inches of denial | geum seong je x baekjin!sister!reader

summary: she flirts like it’s a game. he ignores her like it’s survival. but every glance lingers too long, and every brush of her hand says what neither of them will. maybe it’s not one-sided. maybe he’s not as unaffected as he pretends.

warnings: smoking, underage smoking, mild violence (school fight), suggestive dialogue, unresolved romantic tension, protective behavior, brat x grump dynamic, older love interest, light angst, mutual pining .

author's note: girl i love you for this request :(( . requests ,,

seong-je leaned against the chipped iron fence outside her school gate, one boot pressed to the metal, cigarette smoldering between two fingers. his hoodie was pulled up despite the late afternoon heat, casting a shadow over his sharp gaze, which never quite left the screen of his phone. smoke curled lazily around him, drifting into the golden haze of the setting sun.

every so often, a student passing by would glance at him too long. the guys looked cautious. the girls looked curious. no one was dumb enough to approach.

he didn’t notice. or at least, he made damn sure it looked like he didn’t.

his phone buzzed.

baek jin: “she better not be bleeding again. straight to the bowling alley. no stops. no detours. keep her out of trouble for once.”

seong-je scoffed under his breath, thumb hovering over a reply he didn’t bother sending. babysitting. again. he couldn’t decide whether baek jin genuinely trusted him with this task or just liked the idea of him suffering.

then he heard it — the metal creak of the school gate. the click of shoes on pavement. a familiar rhythm, like chaos with too much confidence.

“miss me, pretty boy?”

he glanced up, already exhaling a long plume of smoke — and there she was.

lip split clean down the center, blood dried in the corner. her tie was nowhere to be seen, blazer thrown over her shoulder like it was a fashion statement. there was a fresh bruise forming on her cheek, but the smirk on her face made it look intentional.

trouble. wrapped in plaid skirt and attitude.

she sauntered over like she was walking a runway and not the sidewalk outside a disciplinary office.

“you’re late,” he said, tone flat, eyes lingering on her mouth for a beat too long.

“you’re welcome,” she replied brightly. “figured you’d get all twitchy if you didn’t have time to miss me.”

he didn’t dignify that with an answer. just looked her over with that same clinical coldness he used on enemies.

“what happened?”

she shrugged. “girl got bold. thought she could call me a plastic bitch and live.”

he arched a brow. “and?”

“she’s not living.”

he clicked his tongue and dropped the cigarette, grinding it beneath his heel. “you’re a magnet for lawsuits.”

“i’m a magnet for jealousy,” she corrected, brushing past him so her fingers casually grazed his.

he tensed — not visibly, not obviously — but she felt it. she always did.

“you’ve got blood on your sleeve,” he muttered.

“not mine,” she said cheerfully.

he gave her a look. one of those unreadable, annoyed-but-not-really ones.

“baek jin’s gonna lose it.”

she waved it off. “he always does. it’s his cardio.”

they started walking side by side. or rather, she walked in little bouncing steps that made her ponytail sway, while he matched her pace like he wasn’t watching her every move out the corner of his eye.

“where are we going?” she asked, tugging her blazer around her shoulders.

“bowling alley. your brother’s already there.”

she groaned loudly. “great. a post-fight lecture with pins crashing in the background. peak family bonding.”

he stayed silent.

a group of boys passed them on the sidewalk, loud and laughing until one of them caught sight of her. his eyes lingered. too long.

before she could say something smart, seong-je had already turned his head — just slightly — and stared the guy down like he was planning his funeral.

“something funny?” he asked, voice low and cold.

the boy instantly looked away, mumbling something as he walked faster.

she grinned. “aw. were you jealous?”

he didn’t answer.

“that was hot,” she added, bumping her shoulder into his. “almost made me swoon.”

“try not to swoon into traffic,” he muttered, reaching out — quick and automatic — to guide her by the arm when they stepped off the curb.

she blinked at the contact, warmth shooting through her from the way his hand lingered just a second too long before letting go.

“your love language is showing,” she whispered.

“shut up.”

“no, really,” she teased. “it’s cute. you're like... my grumpy little chauffeur.”

“i’ll throw you into the nearest trash can.”

“you’d miss me.”

he glanced at her then — fast, sharp — like he wanted to say something but didn’t trust it out loud. so instead, he reached over and pulled her blazer back up over her shoulder again. neat. protective.

she let him.

the bowling alley sign flickered in the distance, humming faintly in neon pinks and greens.

she sighed. “so, what do you think the over-under is on how many insults my brother’s gonna throw at me the second we walk in?”

“four, minimum,” seong-je replied.

“i’m betting five. he’s probably already rehearsing them.”

“you gonna behave this time?”

“no.”

he didn’t even blink. “didn’t think so.”

they stopped at the entrance. she turned to him, smirking.

“you’re not gonna tell him about the fight, are you?”

he gave her a long look. “what do i get if i don’t?”

“mm…” she leaned in close, real close, until he could smell the faint perfume on her collar. “a kiss on the cheek?”

he stared at her, jaw clenched.

then: “i’d rather get punched.”

she laughed, soft and delighted. “liar.”

he didn’t deny it.

the hallway behind the bowling lanes was dim and quiet, lit only by the flickering light above baek jin’s office door. the crash of pins and the muffled thump of music faded as they stepped inside.

it was a small, lived-in space. desk cluttered with open books and papers. filing drawers half-shut. a couch squished against one wall, definitely only meant for two if they didn’t mind sitting too close. a low coffee table was stacked with energy drink cans and a single, dying plant.

baek jin sat behind the desk, hunched over his notes, pencil tapping restlessly against the page. he didn’t look up.

“took you long enough,” he muttered.

“she had to beat someone up first,” seong-je said coolly, shutting the door behind them.

the girl breezed in like she owned the place, flopping dramatically onto the small couch. her skirt rode up just enough to get a side-eye from seong-je, who promptly looked away — but not before she caught it and smirked.

“don’t worry, oppa,” she said sweetly to baek jin, “the other girl looks way worse.”

“you’re a walking suspension notice,” baek jin grumbled, eyes still on his work.

she leaned back on the couch, stretching out like a cat, then looked up at seong-je with a slow smile. “sit with me. or are you scared i’ll touch you?”

seong-je gave her a blank look but didn’t argue. he crossed the room and lowered himself beside her, keeping exactly two inches of space between them. she, of course, immediately closed it.

baek jin didn’t look up, but his pencil stopped moving.

“don’t test my patience,” he warned.

“i’m not doing anything,” she said innocently, nudging seong-je’s thigh with her own.

seong-je shifted but didn’t move away. “you’re going to get me murdered,” he muttered.

“please. he likes you more than most people.” she turned to face him fully, propping her chin in her hand. “you look cute today, by the way.”

“you say that every time.”

“because it’s true every time.”

he rolled his eyes, but his ears turned slightly pink.

baek jin sighed, finally glancing up. “can you stop harassing him for five minutes?”

she gasped, offended. “i’m flirting. flirting isn’t a crime.”

“with you, it should be,” seong-je muttered.

“you like it.”

he didn’t answer.

she leaned in just slightly, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “if i kissed you right now, would you die or kiss me back?”

he met her gaze, calm, unreadable. “i’d probably throw you off the couch.”

she grinned. “so you have thought about it.”

behind the desk, baek jin muttered something about losing his mind and went back to his notes.

she shifted even closer, her leg brushing against seong-je’s. “you smell like smoke,” she said, quieter this time.

he glanced at her sideways. “so do you.”

her grin widened. “told you i’m your soulmate.”

“that’s not how that works.”

she bumped his shoulder with hers. “you didn’t tell baek jin i smoke. that’s love.”

“i didn’t tell baek jin because i don’t feel like watching you get disowned in real time.”

“aww,” she purred, drawing out the word like a melody. “you care.”

seong-je didn’t reply — but when she shifted to pull her blazer off again, he automatically reached out, tugging it back over her shoulder without thinking.

she blinked. “you’re so obvious.”

“shut up,” he said, quietly.

baek jin finally stood up from his desk, stretching. “i’m going to grab something from the counter. if either of you is sitting on top of the other when i get back—”

“we’ll be married,” she finished brightly.

seong-je gave her a look.

baek jin groaned and left the room, muttering to himself.

as soon as the door clicked shut, she leaned over to seong-je’s ear. “he hates how much i like you.”

“i hate how much you like me.”

“no you don’t.”

he didn’t argue. he didn’t move away, either.

“seriously,” she whispered, resting her chin on his shoulder for a moment. “what if i kissed you right now?”

he stared ahead at the desk. “you’d miss.”

she laughed, soft and breathy. “that’s not a no.”

“no, it’s a warning.”

she leaned closer still — then stopped, just an inch from his cheek, eyes playful but steady. “one day you’re going to kiss me first.”

he didn’t move.

didn’t speak.

but his hand drifted to her thigh — barely there, fingers resting lightly, like gravity made the choice for him.

“try not to get suspended again,” he murmured, voice low.

she smiled, victorious.

“i’ll consider it.”

[ilikeevilblondes]

Lazy Mornings

18+ MDNI!

Summary: You and Joel don't have to be anywhere anytime soon.

W.C: ~1.8k

Warnings: husband!joel x f!reader. unprotected p-in-v, praise!, soft!joel, no specified ages, morning sex, lotta fluff, eww corny coupley shit, (post-jackson era!)

Note: still in denial about ep 2... also, surprise! guess who broke free from her exam hiatus to churn this out in one afternoon sesh @whaddupbaby

The early morning sun peeked through the sheer linen of the curtains, bathing the room in a warm, golden glow. There was no birdsong, no familiar hustle and bustle of Jackson’s populace, nothing beyond the peaceful stillness of the room. 

As far as you were concerned, there was only you and Joel.

Your back was against his bare chest, his broad frame encompassing you from behind as you lay on your side, limbs tangled together like crawling ivy.

His mouth skittered down your neck, lips tenderly pressing unspoken ‘I love you’s into your skin, branding you with his touch.

“No patrol today?” You mused sleepily, baring more of your neck for him.

“Mm-mm.” Joel hummed in response, breathing you in and gently tracing indistinguishable, lazy shapes on your hip. He pressed a final kiss to your shoulder before resting his head in the crook of your neck. His words were warm against your cheek. “I’d rather spend a few hours with my wife.”

You smiled. “Lucky woman.” 

“Her husband’s even luckier.” He drawled, his rich, Texan accent reintroducing itself in a deep rumble the way it did only when he was half-awake.

“Somehow I doubt that.” 

“You always gotta put up a fight, don’t you, Mrs Miller?” Joel chuckled, kissing your cheek.

“Someone’s gotta keep you in check, Mr Miller.” You turned your head to meet his gaze.

And meet his gaze, you did. Two pools of deep brown stared back at you, steady, molten, and impossibly soft. Something about the way Joel looked at you made the world slow to a hush, as if the morning itself had bent to its knees, reverent to the quiet worship in his eyes.

It wasn’t just love. It was a kind of knowing—like he was memorising you in real time, committing the curve of your smile, the crinkle of your eyes, the sound of your breath to some sacred, secret archive he was happy to hold the only key to. 

“Believe me, ma’am, I am putty in the palm of your hand.” His voice was low and gentle.

“You big flirt.” 

Joel only smiled, slow and sleepy, like he had all the time in the world to love you, and no intention of ever stopping.

You brought a hand to cup his face, caressing his cheek and feeling the roughness of his grey-streaked stubble under the pad of your thumb.

And he took your hand, your fingers dwarfed in his, and pressed the softest of kisses to your knuckles.

“Guilty as charged,” He smiled widely.

You rolled your eyes, but failed to bite back a similarly wide smile threatening to form on your lips.

“Since you don’t have patrol, does that mean we get a few hours to ourselves?”

“Mhm.” Joel sighed, releasing your hand to run his hand along your side. “Why? Got something in mind, sweetheart?”

The half-hard state of his cock against the small of your back informed you that he already knew the answer to his own question.

You, nonetheless, entertained him.

“Maybe.”

“‘Maybe’, huh? Care to elaborate?” 

“What are you, a cop?”

Joel laughed and slid his hand down to your thigh, gently hitching your leg above his hip, opening you up for him.

“Anyone ever tell you that you’re really bad at dirty talk?” He hummed in between trailing his lips along your shoulder, and slowly glided his hand down your front, below your navel, dipping under the waistband of your underwear just shy of where you were aching to feel the thickness of his fingers.

“You want me to try again?”

“Be my guest, sweets.”

You placed a hand over his, interlocking your fingers and sliding it down, down, down… 

A low, almost inaudible moan escaped from his throat once he felt your puffy folds and the slick pooling from your aching cunt.

“I’m currently blanking on a witty one-liner, but I just really want you to fuck me silly.”

A murmured ‘fuck’ escaped his lips and he instinctively bucked his clothed hard-on against you.

Breathily, “yeah, I think I can do that.”

And that was how Joel ended up fucking you sideways at eight in the morning on a random Sunday.

One hand tilted your jaw up so he could suck at your pulse point as his cock lazily drove in and out of your weeping mound, held captive by his grip on your thigh splayed over his hips.

It was a good thing you were already dripping for him, because he held no patience for foreplay and endeavoured solely to feel your cunt wrapped around him. Usually, he’d take his time stretching you open with his fingers, but, fortunately, you were able to take all eight inches of him in nearly one thrust from the almost shameful amount of arousal you had collected.

Even more fortunately for you, an hour and a bit later, your godsend of a husband had managed to work three deliciously slow orgasms from you and showed no signs of slowing down anytime soon.

“Mmm, feel so good, baby.” He whispered against your jaw.

You whimpered at his snail-like pace. “Joel—” A strangled noise tore out of you.

A noncommittal sound came from him in reply.

“Faster. Please,”

“Sorry, sweets, no can do.” He tutted, sloppily pressing a kiss to the underside of your chin. “Wanna take my time with this pretty pussy.”

True to his word, Joel continued his almost painstakingly languid tempo.

He'd slowly drive in—all the way to the hilt, the coarse hairs at his base tickling your inner thighs. And then he’d pause to feel your drooling, velvety walls clench and flutter around him. And then he’d pull out so far you almost believed he’d dare to leave you bereft of his weeping, swollen head, before gradually feeding you his length and restarting his seemingly never-ending cycle.

All the while, he softly mumbled sweet nothings beside you, his warm breath fanning against your cheek.

“That’s my girl, taking me so well.”

“Can feel her stranglin’ me, baby. So fuckin’ tight.”

“That’s it. Oh, take it, gorgeous. Yeah, there you go.”

“Look so pretty full of my cock,”

You were overstimulated, to say the least.

All you could feel was him, behind you, steadily fucking into you. All you could smell was sex and Joel; pine and musk and Marlboro Reds. All you could hear was the low rumbles of his husky baritone, your own heartbeat thudding in your ears, the obscene sounds of his length re-sheathing itself in your very welcoming cunt.

Slowly, in and out. In and out. In and out.

Tears pooled in your eyes, but you didn’t notice. And even if you had, you wouldn’t have cared. 

With every leisurely thrust, his tip kissed your cervix, filling you with a familiar weight that felt like home. 

Joel was your home.

And that thought repeated over and over in your mind like a broken record as he continued fucking you like you both had all the time in the world.

Home, home, home.

“You feel so good,” You sighed.

“Yeah?” Joel slurred. “Fuck, baby. Never wanna leave this goddamn bed.”

Slowly, in and out.

In and out.

In response, you melted into him like butter on a warm dish, throwing an arm behind you to gently card through his salt and pepper curls.

Joel hummed and pressed a wet kiss to your temple before resting his chin on your shoulder, looking down at where you two were connected and letting out a low growl.

“You see that, baby?”

“Hm?” Your eyes fluttered, not registering anything except for the sensation of his big fucking cock.

Gently, Joel tilted your head downwards. 

“Look how well you take me, sweetheart.” He sighed, his face right beside yours, his eyes watching the same thing.

A creamy ring had formed around his base—no doubt a salacious mixture of his pre-come and your slick, as you had already come a mind-numbing amount of times. And there it went, disappearing into your puffy cunt over and over and over...

You couldn’t help but moan at the sight, unconsciously clenching around him.

“Fuck,” Joel gritted his teeth and accidentally drove a bit too harshly into you, his cock dragging up your walls with a force he normally reserved for those special nights he’d fuck you like an animal in heat. 

That wasn’t his plan for this particular morning, but, as always, you had managed to make him lose control, if only for a second.

“Joel!” You wailed, throwing your head back.

Joel immediately shushed you. “I know, baby, I know. I’m sorry, s’was an accident. You’re alright, hm?” He kissed your head. “Gotta keep quiet, though. Ellie’s probably still asleep.”

You whimpered petulantly.

“My poor girl.” Joel laughed airily, then lowered his voice to coo in your ear. “Gonna give me one more?”

One more? Was he trying to kill you?

Evidently, you didn’t need to voice such a concern, as it was apparently written all over your face.

“You can give me one more, can’t you?” Joel hummed softly.

A sigh. And then, you mumbled a quiet ‘yes’.

"That's my girl."

Your husband’s warm, calloused hand came to your clit, rubbing sloppy semi-circles on the bundle of nerves until you cried out and fluttered wildly around him, your millionth orgasm of the morning washing over you like a tidal wave.

And Joel kept slowly fucking into you as you reached you high, and still, after, when your consciousness was hanging on by a thread.

Slowly, in and out. In and out.

“Joel, too—too much…”

“Shh, baby. C’mon, hold out for a little longer for me, I’m almost there.” Joel promised sweetly, pressing another kiss to your hairline. “Please, baby, just a little more.”

Obediently, you nodded.

As promised, it took him a few more thrusts before he came with a gasp of your name, buried deep inside you—as deep as your walls would let him.

His pearly spend leaked out of your cunt (which was still stuffed full of him) as he planted kisses on every inch of skin his adoring mouth could reach.

“Did so good for me. My sweet girl,” He whispered, nudging the side of your face with his nose.

Hoarsely, you replied, “think you just about killed me.”

Joel laughed softly and carefully angled your head toward him. 

“C’mere,” He sighed, smiling.

And he tenderly slotted his lips against yours, tongue lazily slipping into your mouth and meeting yours.

And, draping a heavy arm across your waist, he pulled you closer against him, tangling his limbs with yours once more, and finding peace in the feeling of your body tucked into his.

And you both drifted into a warm, weightless sleep, letting the morning slip by. 

Because, in the quiet tangle of shared breath and steady heartbeats, nothing else mattered.

Because the two of you had all the time in the world to love each other.

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

[arguing] Skip: I sure as shit ain’t payin’ you for whatever this is, lad. Aster: Please, Robin-… Robin: I said all I had to say, okay? I’m done-.. get over it and leave me alone already. Skip: Stormy seas, eh? Robin: Something like that. Skip: Well, chin up! There’s other fish n’ all. Robin: Is everything you say ocean related? Skip: Half the fun o‘ bein’ a seaman, innit-.. an’ don’t laugh at that neither. [Robin cackled anyway, grateful for Skip’s effort to distract him and for the job that’d kept him busy recently] … Levi: What’re you doing? [Wren jumped slightly, almost toppling into the crates she’d hid herself behind] Wren: Fuck’s sake! Levi: I didn’t take you for a stalker. Wren: [tuts] I came to do your dirty work and annoy Robin-.. Aster was already here though, they’re arguing. Levi: About what? Wren: I don’t know, I forgot my spy equipment-.. what’re you doing here? Levi: I also enjoy annoying Robin; plus, I thought I’d see if Alex was oka-… Wren: Shh, shh! [Aster’s bewildered gaze flicked between Wren and a suddenly sprawling Levi, trying to work out why they were both in the same place-.. had they followed him, what were they doing? Did they know each other?] Wren: ‘Sup, Ass-man. Aster: Stop-.. how do you two know each other? Levi: We don’t. Wren: We met through an STD support group; syphilis is way more common than you’d think. Levi: I don’t have fucking syphilis! Wren: He’s still in the denial phase… … Aster: [lowly] It’s fine, I know what she’s like. Levi: How’s that? Aster: I mean, like-.. well, I’ve seen her at school and stuff, y’know? Levi: [sighs] Can we cut the shit, Aster? I know you’ve been dating Robin for a whil-… Aster: We’re not together. Levi: Anymore, or..? Aster: Like, full stop! What the hell, Levi.. what makes you think I’d date Robin?! Levi: Dude, c’mon… Aster: I’ve got stuff to do, okay? I’ll see you later.

[lo1k-diamonds]

Bubbles 💜 Part 4

SX Seoul Series | Jungkook's Entry

“If you want to be with me.”

PAIRING: Jungkook x (f) Reader

SUMMARY: Jungkook did change - he learned from his mistakes. Did you?

WORD COUNT: 7.4 k

GENRE: Exes to lovers, smuuuuuut, angst, making up

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: arguing, crying, angst, making up, semi-public, fingering, orgasm control/denial, begging, soft Dom Kook if you squint, nipple play, mirror sex, unprotected sex, confessions

PARTS: [1] [2] [3] > [4] <

A.N. And here we have it! I'll miss this couple, they're intense 😁 Sorry for the wait, I hope you enjoy it! 💜 (Thank you @eerieedits for the cool banner 💜)

Masterlist | Masterpost | AO3 | Wattpad

“So what do I get for you?”

You barely noticed the girl whose name you couldn’t recall, waiting for you now that the conversation about Jeon Jungkook had ended.

“A porn star martini,” you bit quietly, eyes quickly drifting to the couple just a few tables over, at the bar. Cold sweats chilled your spine as you watched Jungkook laugh and thank the bartender for the beer, all while the girl with him all but drooled all over his bicep.

“Stay calm.”

Youngjoo was the voice of reason, and it stung you. “I am,” you bit at her, glancing at her before staring at the scene again. You couldn’t look away, both dreading and anticipating how that would unfold. “I recognize her,” you admitted, giving in to the anxiety lacing its claws around your heart. “She was at the party, hitting on him a week ago. She is a model.”

“Okay, and what did he say about it?”

You whipped your head, glaring at her. “I told you before, he laughed it off!”

Youngjoo rolled her eyes. “I mean after that. Haven’t you talked about it after that?”

You looked away. “No.”

Youngjoo turned to you with raised eyebrows. “Why not? Are you guys not talking?”

You shrugged. “We’ve sent a few texts. We’ve been busy.”

“You’ve been busy?” she repeated, skeptically. “I mean, of course you have, but it’s not that. You went from not leaving his side to barely not talking?” You could tell by her tone that she was incredulous. “You need to talk to him! You need to be on the same page about all this. Don’t let some misunderstanding happen again. If it’s not meant to be, then it’s not. Just talk to him first.”

You clenched your jaw, finally looking at your best friend to avoid glaring at the girl clinging to Jungkook. “If he wants his fuck boy life, then—”

“Stop putting words in his mouth! So what if some girl hit on him? He went home with you!”

“Actually, he dropped me off so he could help his brother with the roof of his place…”

“Oh, m— Won’t you stop it?! Since when are you this insecure about him?”

You glared at her once again, snapping in a caustic tone, “Since he has models grovelling on their knees, begging for seconds!”

“But he chose you.” You straightened back up on the sofa, and she continued, “He could have them if he wanted, but he chose you.”

Your eyes were locked with hers as you silently fought her without a word. You doubted she was right, and she reproved the way you were handling things. You could see it in her eyes — you promised Jungkook and yourself you wouldn’t make the same old mistakes. When Youngjoo had asked you about getting back together after you had hurt so much over the last year, you had assured her you were more mature now; you both were. So what the hell were you—

“Hi.”

You turned, shuddering with the sound of his voice before you saw him standing there, black leather jacket, wet hair curling over his ears, and a half-drunk beer bottle in his hand. 

“Hi, Jungkook. How are you?”

Youngjoo put you to shame with the way she effortlessly made casual conversation while you couldn’t even say something. Instead, your eyes were on the girls around you, who were casually listening in and ogling Jungkook. 

They threw quizzical glances at you — do you know him?

They gave Youngjoo looks, too — can you introduce us?

But Youngjoo ignored them, and you did the same.

You heard your name, so your attention was pulled into the conversation. “—that she was coming with you and a few friends to the SX tonight, and I thought I’d join you.”

“What a great idea,” Youngjoo praised, probably with more emphasis than she should have. Same as your best friend’s, Jungkook’s eyes were also on you, but unlike him, you couldn’t seem to hold his gaze. Your stomach twisted as you tried ignoring your sweaty palms. You felt like a teenager, the furthest from mature you had ever been. “How about we go get a round of shots? My treat!”

She clapped for the others to follow her, and although the girls offered resistance, Youngjoo managed to drag them along. You got up, too, ready to follow after them, but Jungkook’s presence kept you locked in. Not that he touched you or overtly expressed anything towards you, but his presence next to yours, his arm brushing yours, your hands grazing as his cologne reached your nose, made you stay, standing on shaky legs.

Your eyes stayed fixed on the floor as you took a deep, soothing breath. 

“What’s wrong?”

His question made you finally meet his eyes, only to have your stomach drop. A week ago, you thought it would be best to talk directly and clear things out, but now you just didn’t have the guts. Maybe Youngjoo was right — you were too insecure about him and yourself. You needed that conversation, but not now.

You knew what he’d tell you — you could already see his gentle eyes as he drew you close and said, I know those eyes.

So you took a deep breath and replied before he could.

“I’m just tired,” you explained, attempting a smile. “I’m going home.”

He placed his beer on a nearby table. “I’ll take you home.”

“Stay,” you insisted. “You're having fun.”

“Fun?” he asked, shaking his head slightly with a smile. “Nah, no reason for me to stay. Besides, you don’t look so good. I’ll take you home.”

He gave you a nod to lead the way, and you made your way through the crowd. Once in the lobby, you took your phone from your purse to text Youngjoo about leaving with Jungkook and followed him quietly out into one of the many streets in Itaewon.

Jungkook turned around to check if you were still following and slowed down so you could walk side by side through the Friday night crowd.

“How’s the apartment?” he asked, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Fine, it’s quiet,” you confirmed, meaning to reassure one of the first things he worried about after sleeping there with you the first weekend.

“Good, that’s good. Maybe we just caught a neighbour partying that weekend.”

You nodded and kept going, eyes lost in the partying crowd, smiling and laughing, unlike you.

“What about the washing machine? Still giving you issues?”

“No, the plumber you called fixed it. Thank you.”

Jungkook smiled at you. “You can always do laundry at mine if it gives you problems again.”

You smiled back, closing your coat a little more to stop the winter cold.

“Are the elevators working again?”

“Oh yeah, they fixed it the morning you left. It’s only been two weeks, but I’ve already noticed that they keep at least one of them working.”

“That must be annoying.”

“Nah, it’s fine. I live on the second floor; I take the stairs most of the time.”

“That’s good.” His voice sounded distant for a second. “What about work? Is that other department head still giving you a hard time?”

“I’m still adjusting…”

Your smile dropped from your face, and he instantly reached out to grab your hand. “It’s a phase. Just wait until they get to know you and how good you are.”

“Thank you.” You squeezed his hand and smiled genuinely, noticing the stars in his eyes the moment he stole a glance.

But then he had to let go of your hand to get into the underground parking lot, squeezing in the narrow corridor to allow the many people wanting to reach the street to pass you in the opposite direction.

You asked him to lead, as you didn’t know where he had parked his motorcycle, and he did, unable to talk to you above the noise of roaring engines and loud people, who were excited to party. The same groups kept both of you pressed against the wall as you went further down the stairs, until you exited them on the third level.

It was suddenly much quieter, with faint echoes and the occasional sound of cars driving along the parking lot.

The silence almost gave you whiplash, your ears ringing faintly.

“And the—” Jungkook’s voice was so loud it echoed. He cleared his throat. “The team? Your colleagues, are they nice?”

“Very nice, actually.”

He nodded quietly as he led the way to his red motorcycle. Once beside it, he pulled the keys out of his black leather jacket pocket, then twirled them once.

“Should I take you to a doctor instead?” he asked, and you raised your eyebrows. “I mean, you said you’re tired a lot…”

“No, I’m not sick,” you assure him, noticing his eyes avoiding you. Suddenly, the silence felt heavy again. “Why?”

“Am I… Should I… I mean,” he tried, grabbing his keys firmly in a fist. “If I’m bothering you, I can… give you space.”

You paled. “What?”

“It’s okay, I understand that it’s a lot with the moving back and the new job and… we have our issues, too. I’m sure it’s difficult, I don’t want to make it harder for you.”

Your blood ran so loudly in your ears that you didn’t know if you heard him clearly. Yet, this one word caught your attention. “Issues?”

Your eyes instantly teared up, and your guts twisted. That was it. You knew it, he was done with you.

“I don’t mean—” His wide brown eyes as he waved his hands tried to interrupt your thoughts. “No, I mean—”

“So things aren’t going well,” you thought out loud, feeling a chill up your spine.

“Wait, that’s not what I’m saying.”

In a split second, your eyes were full to the brim, and there was a sob about to shake you, and you instinctively spun on your heels to hide it. “We can talk about this later—”

“No,” he cut in and caught your arm before you could make an escape. Instead, he spun you around, making the back of your legs collide gently against his bike. “I’m never going to let you walk away without things being clear. Never again,” he promised, looking deep into your eyes. Your guts twisted for an entirely different reason. His eyes were puffy but firm, and suddenly your heart ached; you missed him so much. “I’m just… I’m worried. You’re quiet and distant, and I don’t want you to feel like you have an obligation to be with me or something.”

The blood drained from your face. “You— You don’t want to be with me?”

“Of course I do,” he scolded with a hint of a frown. He cupped your cheek. “What nonsense are you saying? Would I even mention it if I didn’t want to be with you?”

Your breath hitched. “You just said something about space.”

“If you need it because—” He looked straight into your eyes, drawing his thumb over your cheek in a caress. “Because I don’t want to be something you worry about.”

Your mouth opened to object — he wasn’t a problem, he was home — but then you closed it as your eyebrows drew closer together.

“So I am,” he said quietly. “Something you worry about.”

Your eyes lowered stubbornly, even as tears pooled again. But then his hand dropped from your face, and it unintentionally stung your heart.

So you raised your gaze sharply. “You’re right, you are, so I’ll just get it off my chest.”

As soon as you said it, you were breathless, watching his glistening eyes. The fear of everything falling apart froze you for a second, but then you swallowed dryly and decided to open up.

“I don’t think I’m a jealous person, I just— I think I have healthy boundaries, that’s all. In the end, I can’t, nor do I want to, control you or anyone you do whatever with. I don’t want to deny you freedom or whatever, either. But I don’t see how I’m supposed to keep quiet. If you need multiple women to give you attention and hit on you, then maybe restarting just isn’t a good idea.”

He just looked at you the whole time, not interrupting, not moving. He listened attentively to every word you said, until he raised an eyebrow. “Wait, is that the problem? You think I want that? Is that why you’re acting distant?”

You crossed your arms over your chest to hide the tremble. “I’m not…”

“Is that why you text me less and are tired so often?”

“I’ve been really tired…”

He took a step closer to you. “Is that why you don’t come to mine anymore?”

You pursed your lips, looking away. Now that he said it, you had to admit that, once again, you were a coward in many ways.

“Is that why you say you’ll come to a party with me and then don’t show up?”

Your eyes found his immediately, and your hesitation must have been evident in your face. By the way he looked at you, you knew there was no use in keeping secrets.

“I did show up. Remember Soyeon? She helped you with a class one or two years ago? She was there. And Haechan? He graduated with me. He was there too.”

Jungkook nodded slowly. “I know, I saw them.”

His patience was enough for you to know he was waiting for more, and you pressed your lips before letting it out. “I arrived before you did. I saw you arrive, and by the time I got to the kitchen, I overheard Seungkwan saying something about you needing to be free and not doing relationships and all that…”

Jungkook groaned loudly, covering his face with his hands for a moment before suddenly wrapping his arms around you to let his forehead fall to your shoulder.

“You gave me such a scare.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, confused about his reaction but happy to hold him, too.

“I thought you were giving up on us.”

You scoffed playfully. “And your reflex is to give me space?”

He snapped back up to look at you. “I don’t want to push you away!”

“Well, you are! Or would,” you corrected, biting your tongue. “Shouldn’t you be pulling me in instead of—”

He pulled you in by the waist. “I am.” You pressed your lips again, and he sighed. “Why would you listen to anything Seungkwan says? What does he know about what I want or do? I’m guessing you didn’t stick around to hear my reply.”

You blushed and looked down at his chest. “I… did not… So what do we do now?”

“About what?”

“About how I feel.”

He hummed, looking up as though recalling. “You mean about your jealousy?”

“Yes,” you said, still looking away. “Maybe I don’t even have the right to be jealous…”

“You do.” He pulled your arms around his neck. “If you want to.”

You scoffed. “If I want to be jealous?”

“If you want to be with me.”

Your mocking smile dropped before the seriousness in his eyes. “You know I do.”

He nodded. “I do, but… Can we be more?”

Your eyebrows quirked. “More than together?”

“Officially together,” he whispered, looking at you as your guts twisted again.

“We aren’t? I mean, I thought— We’re either together or we’re not,” you pointed out, swallowing hard.

“Right, that’s good.” He squeezed you closer. “No, forget I said anything.”

“No, that—” Your breath caught as you pressed your palms to his chest, grounding yourself. “What does that mean?” you asked, seeking clarity while your sight grew blurry. “I never thought of it in any other way, did you—” Your voice wavered with a pain you couldn’t hold back. “Did you— Those girls—”

“No. Look at me,” he urged, searching your eyes now full of tears. “No. I didn’t know how you felt about us, but—”

“We said we’d try again!” you exploded, the tears streaming down your face. “What do you think that means?!”

You were trembling, unable to keep your pain and fear from lashing out, but he didn’t even flinch. He kept you close and guided your foreheads to touch. “It means we love each other. I know that. It means you’re mine, just like I’m yours. I know that,” he insisted. “But I needed to know how you thought about it. I… You’ve been so distant for the past week.”

“You could have asked me about it.”

“We should have talked, clearly,” he instantly agreed, looking deeply into your eyes despite your snarky comment. “If you knew how much I want to be with you, you would never have gotten jealous like this. You would have never ignored me after you just saw me talking to someone—”

You smacked his shoulders. “Can you blame me?!” It was hard not to cry, but suddenly you were angry all over again. “I thought you were keeping your options open or regretting giving up your fuck boy life!” His hands were firmly on your waist as you tried not to sob. “You knew how I felt and still—!”

“I didn’t know you felt like this.”

“I told you!! And you laughed!!”

Jungkook frowned, about to shake his head and deny ever laughing, when suddenly it hit him. “You mean at my work dinner party? No, but I didn’t think you were serious!”

“What? Why not?!”

“Because there’s no way I’d ever look at someone else,” he deadpanned, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Not when I have you back in my life, it’s just— I thought you were joking!”

You caught your breath, realizing as he tried defending himself that you were crazy angry. You had tears on your face, red cheeks, were panting, and your throat felt rough.

“Well, I wasn’t,” you managed to mutter after calming down. Meanwhile, you could see Jungkook thinking about things as well, and he looked calm and sober, never taking his eyes or hands off you.

“Alright, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I can’t stop anyone from talking to me, but I have told anyone who asked that I was taken.”

“At the party, you introduced me as your friend.”

“That’s exactly why I wanted to make sure!” he blurted out, and as you frowned, he rushed to add, “Not because I’m not in it one thousand percent, but because I don’t want to put words into your mouth or go too fast! Remember? I don’t want to put you in that position again.”

Your lips trembled as your heart ached. You were clearly the one who hadn’t learned from her mistakes.

“And tonight? The girl you saw?” he continued. “She asked me if I was lying about being with someone because she hasn’t seen me with anyone in a while.”

Your jaw hardened as you grumbled, “Well, then. Let’s go back to the club and give her a show—”

“No,” he cut in and stopped you before you could leave the comfortable position you were in, between him and his motorcycle. “I don’t care about what anyone thinks, but I do care about us. I’ll just give your name next time, you fight it out.”

“You want me to fight her?” You raised a skeptical eyebrow as he hugged you.

He chuckled, “No, obviously. I want to walk in with you hand in hand and hug you and kiss you without worrying that you won’t like it because we’re going too fast.”

“You thought I wouldn’t?” You were in disbelief. “I’d always like it.”

“Always?” He looked into your eyes, and your knees were weak. You nodded. “You wouldn't think it's too fast?”

You shook your head eagerly. “No! I want to be with you, the whole deal, the whole package. It's not too fast,” you raised your hand to caress his cheek, “if anything, it's too slow. We need to make up for the time we lost.”

He nodded quietly, licking his lips. “Can we pick it back up where we left it?”

You grabbed his leather jacket and pulled him close. “Yes. Just kiss me, I miss you—”

He captured your lips in a kiss, and you were never so happy to forget about whatever you were saying. You dove headfirst, showing him you were as desperate and crazy about him as he was about you. You could barely breathe, and all thoughts about where you were flew out the window. All you cared about was licking the lingering taste of beer still in his mouth while you grabbed his hair just as firmly as he grabbed yours.

The more he consumed you, pushing his tongue past your lips and sinking his fingers into your hips, the more heated you became. Your thoughts were clouded as you got intoxicated — his taste, his scent, his touch, the lip ring grazing your lip, his hair curling around your fingers. You weren’t thinking, you just had a visceral need to be his again. Not just to correct your wrongs, but to rewrite history.

His hand on your hip raked your dress up to squeeze your ass and you did the only sensible thing possible — you sat on his motorcycle. Instantly, your leg laced around his waist, pulling him closer to you. The hard-on grazing your core told you everything you needed to know; it was your carte blanche.

“Kook, don’t make me wait,” you begged once he gave you a reprieve and kissed down your jaw.

He wasn’t shy about humping you, gripping your leg around him so firmly you were sure it would bruise. “What do you want, bubbles?”

“Need,” you corrected, unapologetically grabbing his head and squeezing your tits between your arms in the process, hoping he’d notice what was right under his nose.

“What do you need?” he breathed, dragging his lips over your chest until he hid in the valley between your breasts.

The anticipation alone was making you throb and clench, gluing your underwear to you while you wished you had no clothes separating your skins. “You. Inside me,” you moaned, feeling his tongue licking every stretch of skin he could while he ground against you roughly. If he were inside you, you’d be undone by now. “Please,” you begged, your voice wavering as you writhed. You leaned in to speak as closely to his ear as possible. “I need to be yours again, please.”

Your voice faded into a whimper when he bit down on one of your tits, yet it wasn’t that that made you gush between your legs, bracing yourself for what you wanted most. He placed you on the bike more firmly, wrapping your other leg around him, then pushed your underwear to the side and skimmed your dripping folds ever so lightly. Enough for you to moan and for him to groan against your chest.

“Fuck… bubbles,” he sounded muffled but you didn’t care, proud that he knew you were more than ready for him.

You weren’t shy from incentivizing him to continue, whispering in his ear, “Feel that? For you,” you moaned, trembling from the sensations shaking you. “I’m so ready for you, you’ll feel so good, please…”

You squirmed, trying to make his fingers touch you more firmly where you needed them, but as usual, Jungkook did what he pleased. He chose to pull his hand away despite your request, and as your pleas shifted to whimpers, he pushed your coat over your shoulder. You shimmied, easily taking it off.

Then, he slid the zipper of your dress down your back and pushed the straps down your arms. Your skin tingled under his touch while you were dazed by the hickeys he was leaving across your chest. Even feeling him unhook your bra didn’t startle you; you only realized his goal when he pushed away all barriers and finally got a nipple inside his mouth.

You had to make your best effort not to let your moans echo in the parking lot. It was so hard, you started trembling, sinking your nails into his scalp, when his hips snapped forward as though he wished he were inside you right now. You showed him you wanted the same by helping him dry humping into you, the fraction of friction enough to have you begging yet again, but he had other plans.

He kept nibbling and torturing your nipple in his mouth while his free hand got under your skirt again, unabashedly going straight for your core.

Your efforts to suppress your moans made your very bones shake as his thumb gently drew circles on your clit. Every new motion elicited a new shudder, to the point you were holding your breath and letting your body unfold along with the pleasure. It was so singular and soft, immediately contrasted by his mouth suckling, making your toes curl.

“Kook, please,” you cried as soon as you could, surfacing to draw a quick breath before sinking into it again.

“What do you need, bubbles?” he asked again, nuzzling and pecking all over your chest as though he was so lost in you, he no longer knew what you needed.

As if that was possible.

“You. Inside me,” you managed to say through the shivers, making your lower belly coil. Every lap of his thumb was a threat to your sanity, pushing you closer. You sank your nails into his scalp and crossed your legs behind him so he’d stay as close as possible. “I need you, I missed you… Kiss me, please.”

Your desperation was obvious in your breathy words, and your heart thumped when his lips left your chest to acquiesce. His mouth was quick to slot in with yours, instantly seeking your taste with his tongue as though being inside you meant in every way possible. You kissed him harder, knowing it would bruise your lips. His thumb disappeared momentarily as he adjusted the clothes between your bodies, and you moaned breathlessly in anticipation. Only what suddenly invaded you was not his hard dick as you had hoped, but two fingers that he curled inside you.

You whimpered, squeezing your eyes shut further when he started playing with your slick, getting his fingers properly coated by pulling away and pushing back inside you multiple times.

“How— How could you—” you complained, finally managing to open your eyes.

His eyes sparkled mischievously as he kept you as close as could be with your foreheads pressed together. He chuckled sensually, and you throbbed around his fingers. “Did you forget where we are?” he asked. Your lashes fluttered as you tried to think, but it was impossible while he fingered you with that deliciously slow and consistent rhythm. “Besides, I have to make you a good girl. Make you earn it first.”

His playfulness made your stomach flutter, clenching around his fingers before you even realized how close you were. You gripped him harder, closer to you, so needy you couldn’t think further than him, right there, with you.

“Tell me what you want,” you whispered, trembling with want. He ghosted your lips as you breathed, “Whatever you want, I—”

Everything happened so fast. Your mind was invaded with possibilities of what he might have wanted, from you getting on your knees to suck him to him turning you around and fucking you raw, either way covering your insides white. As if your fantasies weren’t enough, he raised his thumb, trying to give you extra friction. For a split second, you were sure you’d come in seconds.

But then the loud noise of a door slamming open broke through your haze, and everything stilled. Jungkook’s hand stopped as he hugged you closer, hiding your face in the crook of his neck with a possessive grip that quickly turned into a soothing caress.

You heard the laughter and steps of people entering the parking lot not so far from you while your racing heart calmed inside your chest. Jungkook’s scent and embrace were enough to keep you relaxed, but then his hand slid off you slowly, and you cried out quietly. His neck muffled it, but still.

“No…” You whined. “I was right there.”

“Sorry, bubbles.”

You sulked hard and pulled away abruptly to glare at him, but your chin dropped instead. He was casually licking your slick off his fingers while the group of people got inside their car a few rows behind you.

You blinked, befuddled, and before you could say something, he was already kissing you again. The way he pressed himself to you, hard, hot, and tasting of you, scrambled your mind entirely. Licking your taste on his tongue made you grab him close and press him to your needy core. It was enough to move your hips, dry humping him while his hands grabbed your ass and helped.

You were so turned on that the lightest touch was enough to set you ablaze. “Fuck, please… Jungkook, please…”

“I want to, bubbles.” He groaned, kissing down your jaw. “You drive me fucking insane.” You agreed eagerly, nuzzling him while your hands tried to search for his belt. “But I want to take you home.”

“Sounds perfect,” you agreed, unbuckling his belt when he stopped your hands. You faintly heard tires screeching as a car left the parking lot, but your mind was focused on Jungkook.

“Now,” he clarified softly, raising his hand to brush your hair behind your ear. “I need to take you home.”

Suddenly, the lust dictating your every move receded. Your mind was brought to a conversation you two had one month ago, and everything was clearer.

I hate that I brought you here 'cause I wanted to see you here, in my home, as if that could bring back what we once were.

Jungkook always needed to bring you home because you were the woman of his dreams. The one he loved with his whole heart, whom he could never hate.

You cupped his cheeks and nodded, kissing him tenderly. “Take me home, Kook.”

His precious smile meant everything. He quickly helped you fix your clothes and put your coat back on before buckling his belt and giving you the extra helmet he always kept under the seat. Once seated behind him, you kissed the back of his neck before putting your helmet on and holding onto him.

As usual, as soon as the motorcycle engine roared, you let all thoughts fade from your mind. There were no more worries or doubts, just Jungkook taking you back home, as if you had never left.

The way to his home was paved with tenderness and care. He drove carefully, not too slow, not too fast, grabbing your hand on his chest whenever he had to stand still at a red light. You responded by pressing yourself flush to him, molding to his body like a blanket. You knew by the way he touched your leg sporadically or squeezed your hand that he loved every second.

When he parked in the underground garage of his apartment building, no words were exchanged. Not even all the way up to his apartment. You both moved in silent tandem, storing the helmets away, then holding hands and making way to the elevator. You stood close, easily curled up to his chest while you waited, and the familiarity of that moment soothed you. It was just like three weeks ago, just like one year ago; thankfully, nothing had changed.

When you entered his apartment, you hung up your coat on the coat hanger, the same one he had kicked to the floor in a fury one month ago, when you fought. When you drove him insane because, despite the words out of his mouth, the one thing Jungkook never wanted was for you to leave.

You smiled at the memory. “I’m home,” you sighed, stepping in.

His living room was just as you remembered; the blanket you used to snuggle on the couch was still there, as was your favorite coffee mug next to the coffee machine in the kitchen. 

Before you could turn around and tell him how much those little things made you feel at home, his arms wrapped around you from behind. And just like that, you were more than welcomed back, more than safe.

You pulled his arms further around your middle, making him drape over you like a blanket this time.

“Bubbles…”

His whisper in your ear was enough for you to turn around and meet his waiting lips. He didn’t relent his hold for one second; instead, he pulled you flush to him, kissing you gently before softly picking you up from the floor. You held onto him with arms and legs, sighing into his kiss as he carried you.

He placed you gently on the bed, and you were quick to get on your knees so your lips would stay connected to his at all times. You were so heated, pulling his shirt so he’d take it off and welcoming him straight after when he returned his mouth to yours, that you barely noticed his deft fingers sliding your zipper down. Yet as soon as you did, you peeled the dress and everything else as quickly as possible. The moment your lips connected once again, he was unbuckling his belt, and the very sound made you clench unapologetically. You wanted him so much you wouldn’t be able to think until all of him was all over you.

You tried to move, but your foot got stuck, forcing you to turn and look. Your heels were getting tangled in the sheets and you chuckled, sitting back on your butt to take them off. Jungkook smiled too, never taking his eyes off you as he stripped naked. Yet, your eyes drifted from him to the mirror behind him after throwing your heels on the floor. Not just because of the view of his round ass and sculpted back, but the whole image — you on the bed, naked, waiting for him. It reminded you of the first time you got back together, when he moved the mirror on purpose so he could see you.

Before he could put his knees on the bed and embrace you again, you got on all fours and reached out your hand to him. He grabbed it instantly, letting you guide him behind you to face the mirror too.

“I want you to see me every time you look into this mirror,” you told him, kissing his hand before putting it on your body. “Even when I’m not here.”

He brushed his hands down your curves slowly, admiring you in front of him as he got on the bed. Soon, his whole body was a blanket again, covering you from head to toe. His strong chest pressed to your back as his broad shoulders framed you, leaving nothing to the imagination, not even his excitement.

Yet your mind didn’t go there immediately. Instead, you basked in his sweet caresses and kisses as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, “I always have, bubbles…”

Your heart thumped loudly inside your chest as you shuddered, knowing he was telling the truth. Knowing that was how deep you were for him.

Jungkook didn’t take long to trace, kiss, and nuzzle every bit of skin you left for him to find, taking pleasure in nibbling and tickling you so you’d squirm and chuckle. Meanwhile, you had no gripe with pressing yourself further into him, scratching his arms, and bucking your hips, trying to get him to align with you. 

At first, he chuckled, playing along, but eventually, he grabbed your hips. “Eager?”

“I’m a good girl, and we’re no longer in a parking lot,” you replied. He nipped your shoulder in retaliation, but you weren’t taunting him. “We’re home, so won’t you come home to me?”

He groaned, grabbing your hair to turn your head so you’d meet his lips. His mouth was needy, almost rough on yours, and you matched him. You were busy meeting his tongue and trying to lick his lip ring when you felt him pressing the head of his cock to your entrance.

Your chin immediately dropped, turning a needy kiss into a messy one, especially when he thrusted shallowly, trying to stretch you to his size. You both groaned, loving the searing pleasure climbing your spine as he bottomed out.

“Fuck,” he groaned, and you whimpered. His fingers started drawing gentle circles on your clit and your hips buckled against him. You could feel him sliding so well, melting under the strength of his arms and the sweetness of his lips. “You’re so wet…”

You bit your lip, letting the way he fit inside you override your senses. It was so easy to let go and forget everything when Jungkook kept whispering sweet nothings into your ear while he rubbed your clit slowly. His hips were even slower, barely moving while he stayed perfectly hard inside you, as though telling you how amazing you felt was more important than fucking you.

It drove you wild; the more gentle his touch, the more you needed more. The more he told you how much he wanted you, the more you craved him. To the point that when he bit your earlobe playfully, you snapped your hips back, making him reach deep and bottom out again.

His hand automatically striked your asscheek, but you felt it like a caress.

“Needy,” he whispered, nibbling your shoulder, and you sighed.

“Only for you.”

His hand darted from your ass to your hair, pulling ever so slightly so you’d arch your back. His hips gained a rhythm, snapping to yours more vehemently while he suckled and took nips at your neck. 

You grunted, dazed and happy. You wanted everything, from his kisses and teases to the way he rutted into you and caged you in like you were his. His fingers left your hair to your core again, knowing how to softly pave the way of your pleasure while your walls clenched around his length, feeling him slide into you so well. The sloppy sounds made you proud.

Until he slowed down and bit your ear again, knowing your squirms were because he was keeping you on edge for far too long.

You were about to call him out when he whispered, “I want to look at you.”

You raised your head to look into the mirror, having completely forgotten about it, and met his gaze. His eyes glistened sweetly, trained on you while his hips kept a sweet rhythm, and you sighed. This was all about you two, not whatever he did before he found you again.

So you raised a hand and guided his sweet lips to meet yours, telling him with a slow kiss that you loved him. You could always have hot, frenzied sex, but right now, you wanted that sweet loving only he could give you.

He understood you perfectly. He pulled out and sat on the bed, grabbing your hand to keep you close while giving you the choice of what would happen next. You rose to your knees and smiled at him, unable to hide how much your heart thrummed with his gentleness toward you. Then, you leaned back, splaying your hair on his pillow while pulling him over you. His eyes eagerly took in your silhouette, including your smile, as you spread your legs and welcomed him. You belonged in his bed, on his pillows, and he belonged to you.

He instantly crushed you to the mattress, sweetly wrapping your legs around him as he kissed you deeply. He didn’t just love you with passion; he lived it too.

Aligning himself with you took a second, and sliding into you, filling you whole, was instantaneous. You gasped as he pecked your cheek and moved with him, knowing this was it. He wasn’t just enjoying feeling you, nor guiding your pleasure in ways that blew your mind. He was looking at you with love and desire unfolding with every thrust. Every time your bodies pieced together, stealing your breath away between one moan and another, his starry eyes stayed on yours, locked together, strengthening the foundations of your commitments until you were ready to cry out.

“Kook…” you breathed, quickly squinting your eyes. You wanted to look at him, but as your insides coiled, ready to be released at any moment, it was harder and harder.

“I’m here, bubbles,” he assured you. He grabbed your hands, pressing them to the mattress next to your head, and you knew that look. Knew that angle, recognised the snap of his hips, and soon the burn stretched through your body, making you keen. He knew you so incredibly well that you weren’t surprised when he sharpened his thrusts. There was no hesitation, just pure want and something deeper and gentler.

Your nails sank into the back of his hands as you bucked your hips, helping him to the last of your strength. Your breathing changed, and so did your moans as you arched your back, and he sank into you. He searched for your mouth, kissing your lips once, twice, with the same cadence as his hips until you collapsed. 

You arched against him, unable to keep your eyes locked with his or that sweet kiss any longer. Your climax floored you, making you scream and tremble as you felt everything. The way he groaned as he hid in your neck, the way his body framed yours with as much gentleness as fucking that need allowed him, and finally, the way he throbbed inside you, releasing warm ropes of cum to make you feel complete.

His lips peppering your neck with kisses quickly reached your own, pressing gently before he lay beside you. 

He pulled you into his arms as you both caught your breath. You rested your head on his chest, and he grabbed your hand. 

“I love you,” he whispered, brushing your knuckles with his lips.

You could hardly be happier. “I love you, too,” you said, kissing his sweaty pec. 

“I need you to know it,” he insisted, looking into your eyes. “When you came back, I felt pathetic. You reminded me of how happy I was before you left me. Of how much it hurt to lose you. Of what I did to try to forget you and how it changed me. So much so, I almost lost you in this whole thing. Even when I knew, as soon as I saw you again, that I wanted no one else. That I wasn't happy with the way I was doing things. That I still love you and want to spend my life with you, even if you tore my life apart when you left.”

You frowned. “Kook—”

“No, I’m saying it because that’s where I stand. This opportunity with you is not just… a gamble or giving it a shot. I love you, I want you, my life isn’t complete without you. No one could ever take your place. It’s been two years since I met you, and this is still true. I want to be with you and be the Jungkook who loves you. Because when you’re in my life, I’m happy and strong enough to live as I dreamt. You're part of all this, of me,” he whispered, kissing your fingers again. “I want you to know that.”

“Kook,” you called, with tears in your eyes. His teary gaze met yours, and you jerked forward to hug him with all your heart. “I love you, too, and I want you too, so much! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I… I should have talked to you immediately. I let it all get to my head. It won't happen again, I promise.”

He nodded, petting your hair as he held you to his chest. “It's part of trying again, right? As long as we figure it out together, I'm happy. But you know what could help?”

You withdrew to look at him with a furrowed brow. “What?” 

He grinned. “A certain ring.”

He pressed his lips to your fingers again, unable to hide a playful smile, while you chuckled.

“One thing at a time.”

He chuckled. “Maybe next year.”

[whatwhywhowherewhen]

SVSSS au in which in denial trans woman Shen Yuan transmigrates into a not medically but very much always has been socially transitioned trans man Shen Qingqiu. Shen Yuan internalized transphobia double reach-arounds him(...her?)self into coming out to all the Peak Lords and the sect and the cultivation world because "he" (she?) can't just not reveal the Scum Villain was a woman all along?! What a plot twist that is definitely the most important and relevant thing.... she... is meant to discover. System: *side eyes*

They do not have transphobia in PIDW, but the only person who knows Shen Qingqiu isn't cis is Yue Qingyuan. The Peak Lords all think Shen Qingqiu has just come out as a trans woman, and are mostly just surprised Shen Qingqiu has a gender that isn't Rage and Spite. Yue Qingyuan is surprised Xiao Jiu has switched genders??? Somehow?? Qi divinations can do that now???? Mu Qingfang is surprised when Shen Qingqiu refuses the Ever Blossoming Transformation Peony on the basis of "of course not! Haven't I already said I have one of... those things..." and now neither Mu Qingfang or Shen Yuan have any idea what conversation they're having

Shen Yuan expects this to massively change the plot, and is actually prepared when Binghe goes goo-goo eyed. However, she fully believes she will be a plot-relevant but mostly ignored redeemed villain wife, and is still shocked when Binghe is heartbroken and pleading rather than just betrayed and seductive. "Binghe why do you care more about this old crone than all the pretty little sisters vying for your attention huh?!?! And if you want me so bad why am I still in the dungeon!?" The treatment (which she doesn't know is how Binghe acts when actually hurt and caring about a person rather than just wanting to win) leads her to fear she might have imagined Binghe's feelings and have an angst session about it, leading to the escape attempt and the self-sacrifice

She also has to contend with sexism and heteronormativity in the trial. Every motivation is attributed to romance and irrationality. Shen Qingqiu is being accused of being in love with Qiu Jianluo and murdering him out of jealousy when she was engaged to Qiu Haitang instead. Shen Yuan: "that doesn't sound right but I don't know enough about Shen Jiu to argue"

During the years when Binghe's in the abyss, Yue Qingyuan tries to talk to her about what she's comfortable with now compared to before the "qi divination", during which she gets the big hint that Shen Jiu was not, in fact, secretly a woman. Confirmation comes from a chaotic and mutually politically incorrect conversation with Shang Qinghua (tentatively, he would be a trans man in his first life who was happy with his gender presentation, but cis in the second. He feels weird about it and is on his own journey to realize gender identity and presentation do not have to match up to societal expectations. He/him gender-exploring queen.)

Shen Yuan, rather than having to accept being gay with and for the protagonist, has to accept that she is a woman even though the Scum Villain wasn't. She still grows a mushroom body with Shang Qinghua, meant to look like "Shen Yuan The Boy", in order to get back to her "real" gender (and escape all the awkwardness of Being Perceived, both as Shen Jiu (oof) and as a woman (which she really is? Isn't? Can't be??? (...always was?))). As "peerles cucumber", she then has to accept it doesn't feel right anymore, and with some deeper reflection maybe never did (but that's just because [excuse excuse excuse]!!!). Anyway she willingly returns to the Shen Qingqiu body to live as a woman, peak lord, and the only wife of Luo Binghe. The end is just her beginning.

All this chaos and Shen Jiu is just in the modern world staring at the "Peerless Cucumber" like "...nice"

[lilianade-comics]

Has Danielle tried considering Danny's perspective on Vlad? The guy tries to hit on your married mom the instant you meet him, has attempted multiple times to kill your dad, *clones you* (which, as the clone themself, I can see this being a morally grey dilemma because they wouldn't exist if that didn't happen), etc, etc. Is she truly aware of the type of sleazy scumbag he is and simply doesn't care? Is her perception of him warped that much due to bias?

Not saying she isn't allowed to love Vlad as a parent, of course, especially when she's the first and likely only person he (in your AU) genuinely cares for and treats with any amount of respect.

I was just wondering when the two finally form a mutual understanding that, "Yeah, Vlad sucks as a person. I won't betrayal him, and you can't change my mind, but I at least acknowledge how he's made your life hell." Surely, they do at some point since they're seen causally hanging out and getting along in your other comics without much issue. They don't have to entirely stop being enemies, either, as they're naturally on opposing sides because of her loyalty, but she can still sympathize with him and find the whole situation a bit depressing to say the least.

Anyway, sorry for rambling. Merely wanted to spill my thoughts and curiosities after seeing your Eye-for-an-Eye snippets. Would love to see or hear about the first time they sit and have an actual heart-to-heart conversation about everything that doesn't devolve into an argument or physical fight.

Danielle at this early stage in this AU is more in denial about Vlad's villainous behavior than she is later, and she's mostly ignorant of Danny's personal experiences with him. She thinks the best of Vlad because she's his child, and because Eye for an Eye isn't exactly the most ideal circumstances for her to meet Danny, they're going to be pitted against each other in an antagonistic rivals relationship for a handful of "episodes". From Dani's POV, Danny is the so-much-better-than-her ideal golden boy that her father (used to be) obsessed with, and Danny had her home destroyed, so Dani is not currently keen to hear Danny's justified objections to her father's lengthy rap sheet.

Urban Jungle is going to be the much needed Danny & Dani relationship development episode, because it's the perfect backdrop for them to come to an understanding since they'll be the only two people who escaped Undergrowth's control. Two incredibly similar rivals, one town to save, and a ton of interpersonal issues to work through. They'll end that story on much better terms than they did in Eye for an Eye, and Dani will begin to morph into Danny's chill cousin instead of his bitter rival.

(In the meta sense, Dani's stubborn defense of Vlad is meant to mirror Danny's stubborn defense of Jack. I'm not saying either one is right or wrong for this or that Jack and Vlad are a 100% fair comparison, but I am saying the kids are kindred spirits and both feel they are in the right. That being said, Dani becomes a relatively neutrally aligned character rather than a traditional antagonist, and she's just as likely to side with Danny later on as she is with Vlad.)

Thanks for the ask! Rambling is great, and it's helpful to me to have to try to articulate what I'm doing with this AU. (I originally envisioned this monster as half semi-serious canon rewrite, and half obnoxiously self-indulgent fanon fluff. And since it's based on season 3, there are so many pacing and narrative direction issues to try to account for that I. Simply haven't done that. So it's kind of all over the place & I couldn't tell you how the AU ends because I don't know :P)

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

The Meet-Cute - Kid's Story - 9

Source for pic

Imperfect 9

Word Count: 5836

Tags and Summary can be found here.

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Notes: I'm sorry, everyone, this might not be the chapter you all deserve, but it's the chapter I managed to get out. Life kicked my butt a little bit these last few days. I aimed for this chapter to have a little bit more plot, but it was already getting too big. Still, plenty of setup for exciting things to happen next chapter. I hope you're still with me and enjoying this! Love you all.

Here's a Spotify Playlist I created for this story if you want to check it out!

Masterlist

“I can’t believe it, Kid, you really remade this engine from a bunch of scrapped junkyard parts?” You’re leaning on the tips of your toes, admiring the new farm tractor engine Kid is setting up. 

Well, ‘new’ is an euphemism. Kid was just telling you how buying a new engine was about as expensive as a new tractor, since your dad’s tractor is over fifteen years old. So, he came up with a cheaper solution. 

“Sure did, Sparkles.” Kid tightens another bolt and cranes his neck your way, one eyebrow shooting up in disbelief. “I’m actually offended ye doubt me!”

A giggle escapes your lips as you raise your hands in mock defense. “Don’t be! You just keep surprising me, that’s all…” Your voice softens as you lock eyes with him for what feels like the hundredth time today. 

A loud harumph breaks the spell and Kid gets back to his screws while you turn on your heel to scowl at your father. Shanks decided he had ‘stuff to do’ in the barn while you helped Kid fix the tractor, which was code for: “I don’t want you alone with Kid if I can help it.” And there’s nothing you can do about it. 

“I found parts in three different scrap yards, cleaned ’em up, rebuilt what mattered, ditched the rest… bam! New fuckin’ engine for half the price, more power too. Yer welcome.” Kid wipes the sweat off his forehead and leaves a small streak of grease across it, making you giggle again.

“What?” he growls, looking back at you. 

“Got a little something there, hang on.” Stepping closer, you remove the rag from his back pocket and scrub the grease mark. His hand instinctively grips your waist, and you bite your lower lip, holding back a gasp.

“Ah-ahem!” Shanks clears his throat again, and you exhale sharply, handing the rag back to Kid and stepping away from him while he chuckles and gets back to work. You death-glare the back of your dad’s head, since he doesn’t even deign to give you a side glance, pretending to fuss over the bedding of the horses’ stalls. 

“Cockblock…” Kid whispers beneath his breath, and you turn your loud chortle into a fake cough. 

After that, Kid keeps explaining what he’s doing and asking you to pass him some tools. You said you wanted to learn and to help, and he’s teaching you. 

“So, um…” Kid sighs after a while, hands deep in the bowels of the tractor, eyes fidgeting without looking your way. He’s not whispering, but he’s speaking softly. “I got Victoria registered for a Car Show… It’s in a few days and, um…”

Shanks stops what he’s doing, and Kid gets visibly more flustered, but you wait to hear what he has to say before reacting, even though you can already guess where this is going. He stops and looks at you before continuing. 

“Well, I was thinkin’, since ye helped set her up, maybe ye wanna come with?” You stare at him, lips parted, eyes wide, and silent. He takes your silence for a denial and starts to shake his head, already turning back towards the engine. “Ye ain’t gotta come. I just thought, ye know—”

“Yes! Obviously I want to go!” Kid lets out a huff of breath but quickly turns his expression into an unbothered one. “When are we going?”

He continues tweaking the tractor’s engine, but his movements are lighter. “It’s a weekend thing. Whole day Saturday and Sunday till late afternoon. We’ll have to spend the night—”

A horseshoe clatters against the floor, and one of the horses neighs while Shanks curses loudly, losing his balance and banging his head against the side of the stall. 

“Are you okay, Dad?” You’re already turning around to see if he’s fine, but he’s quick to answer.

“Fine! I’m fine!” His growl seems far from fine, but you leave him alone and turn back to Kid so you can finish the conversation. 

“I’m game!” you agree, ignoring another colorful expletive leaving your father’s lips. “I guess we should work really hard on Victoria until then, right?”

Kid nods, never meeting your gaze, even though there’s a stubborn smile on his lips, he’s trying to contain it. “Aye. Just the finishin’ touches.”

“Get ready, Kid. I’m not the easiest person to deal with in a road trip!” you say, squealing with excitement, and ignoring Kid’s mock pained grunt. You do not miss, however, the way your heart swells at Kid's invitation to tag along on such an important event. 

-*-

“Spit it out, Dad,” you say, your fork clattering obnoxiously against the plate as you set it down. Shanks has had ‘the look’ ever since Kid left. He keeps side-eyeing you like he has something to say but he’s trying his damn hardest not to.

“It’s… It’s nothing,” he mumbles, not lifting his gaze from his half-eaten baked potato. 

With a groan, you push your plate to the side. He’s going to make it difficult. 

“Dad, just say it. We can talk like adults. I don’t want you to keep your opinions and thoughts to yourself.” You know what this is about: Kid, obviously. Shanks hasn’t uttered another word about your burgeoning friendship with the redhead since you two fought the other time, but you can tell that the way you’re close to Kid bothers him.

Much more than he’s willing to admit.

“I know,” he admits with a shrug. Sipping your water slowly, you give him more time while he chews both on his thoughts and his food. “So you’re going to that car show with Kid, then? It’s settled?”

You nod. “Yeah, it sounds fun. I helped Kid with his car, even though I barely did anything, and I want to go. Unless… do you need me that weekend?”

Shanks’ eyes light up, and you know it’s because if he says ‘yes,’ it’s his chance to make you stay without being a smothering father. 

“No,” he sighs defeated. “I don’t need you, Bug.”

You let out a small, relieved huff of breath and get up to fill your glass of water before returning to your seat, giving Shanks time to gather the rest of his thoughts. 

“Be careful.” Well, that’s… vague.

“Sure. I’ll make sure Kid drives slowly.” As if. He’ll want to test Victoria’s limits, and you’re not going to be the one to stop him, especially because you’re also curious. 

“Not that,” Shanks pushes the plate to the side and sighs your name, his hand tousling his hair nervously. “I know I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it as often as it takes: Kid is dangerous.” Shanks lifts one finger to stop you from intervening. “Don’t give that look, I know him.”

“So do I!” you interrupt anyway.

“Sure, you know what he shows you. But when he’s pressured or cornered, he lashes out, and that’s when he sees red, baby, that’s when he’s volatile and you—”

“I’m not afraid of him, and you’re not going to make me fear him, Dad.” Kid already felt cornered and pressured when next to you. He lashed out, sure, but you handled it just fine!

“I’m not trying to make you fear him,” Shanks pleads, slamming his palm on the table. “I just want you to be careful, stay sharp, pay attention!”

“He’s not a ticking time bomb!” you say.

“He’s an angry man!” he counters.

“Sure!” you groan in disbelief. “But being angry is a far cry from being dangerous. Yes, he’s loud, yes, he’s irascible, but that shouldn’t be what defines him when there’s so much more underneath.” You let out another huff. “Besides, he’s not angry at me. Kid’s angry at himself.”

Shanks raises in his chair, his hand supporting his weight on the table so he can look at you. “And that is the problem, babygirl, because when you’re constantly angry at yourself, the ones who suffer are the ones who care the most.” 

Your breath hitches as you lock eyes with Shanks, and his eyes soften. He squeezes your hand gently, a soft smile that doesn’t reach his eyes gracing his lips. “And I know you care. So I’m so scared you’re going to suffer.”

He’s not wrong. Kid is constantly angry at himself, whether he shows it or not; there’s an underlying grudge he can’t seem to shake. 

“I’m a fuckin’ monster.” His words still echo inside your head, still holding your heart ransom to the pain he was feeling. 

Kid’s angry. Kid’s suffering. And Shanks is right. He will make you suffer too, but not in the way your father fears. 

You suffer because he’s in pain. Not because he causes you pain.

-*-

“She’s shining! She looks so good, Kid.” You pace around Victoria, taking in how the bright red, closely resembling her owner’s hair, stands out in the dimly lit garage. Kid’s been working nonstop to get her show-ready, and it’s paid off. “Are we going to ride her to the show?”

Kid takes out two beers from the fridge, but doesn’t put back the one you decline, instead setting it down on the workbench to drink once he’s done with the first. He leans back against the counter and tilts his head at Victoria, making sure everything is perfect. 

“Damn right we are. I’ll get her fuckin’ sparklin’ again once we arrive.” He smirks and takes a long sip of his beer. “She ain’t no helpless virgin to be carried around in a tow. She holds her own.”

With a soft chuckle, you lean on the workbench next to Kid, purposefully brushing your leg against his. His arm stops midway before raising up for another sip of beer, but the silence stretches for a while before you decide to break it. 

“Why haven’t you kissed me again?” It’s a question that’s been lodged in your throat since that day. You helped Kid in a terribly vulnerable moment, and he let you. You thought, once again, that you had made progress, that walls had been torn down and breached. But he hasn’t kissed you or mentioned what happened between you since. 

Kid sets down his beer and exhales a long breath, his hand reaching up to press over the lower half of his face. 

“It ain’t so simple…” Still avoiding your eye contact, Kid pulls up a stool from under the workbench and sits down, as if pressured by a heavy weight and standing up seems unbearable. 

“It isn’t?” you ask in disbelief. 

“Aye…” Kid risks a small glance at you and breaks it the next second. “I told ye before. I don’t know how to do this.” He gestures to the space between you. “I claim girls and I dump ‘em. That’s what I do.”

Right. He has said so before. Where’s he going with this, and why is your heart pounding like it wants to escape your chest? Does it always have to be one step forward and two steps back with Kid?

“What do you mean, Kid? Is that what you’re going to do to me or—”

“No.” Kid wraps his hand around your waist and pulls you to him, dragging you to the middle of his open legs. You eye him with suspicion, never quite knowing what to expect from him. Then his fingers dig into your waist, and he forces eye contact. “That’s exactly what I don’t want to do to ye.”

Oh.

“I’m wired to do that. Kill says it’s a defense mechanism, but what the fuck does he know, he ain’t a shrink,” Kid grumbles. “So I’m—”

He minces his words with grunts and sighs, and you know what he can’t say. He’s scared. About everything. The heat of his body spreads to your palms as you place them over his chest, waiting for him to go on. 

“I can’t take that risk. I can’t take it further. Yet.”

You take another step forward, and you’re nearly flush together. Kid’s hands drop to your hips.

“We don’t have to take it further,” you admit. Then a sly grin curves the corner of your mouth upwards. “But I do like your kisses…”

Kid leans down, his mouth hovering over yours.

“Aye, me too. But the problem is I like ‘em too fuckin’ much.” You let out a small giggle at that, hands climbing to his neck as you twirl strands of his hair. “When I’m kissin’ ya, I don’t want to fuckin’ stop.”

Your lips brush but never quite touch. He leans his head to one side, and then the other, just small feathery brushes that tease you more than if he were actually kissing you. 

“This is torture,” you whisper, anticipation climbing to impossible heights while his fingers dig deeper into your flesh. You press on his neck, pulling him towards you, but he’s not budging. He keeps leaning away from your search for a deeper touch. “God!” you breathe out the expletive in exasperation. 

Kid’s smug chuckle warms your lips, and you nearly let out a whine. “Not my name, sweetheart, but I don’t mind the upgrade.”

You start to chuckle lightheartedly at his smugness, but that’s when he shortens the distance between you and your mouths collide. It starts slow; hands behaving nicely, barely touching or gripping, lips only pressing, tongues still. 

And then you whimper softly, so softly it resembles more a sigh than a moan. Yet, it’s all it takes.

Kid makes a deep, throaty noise and wraps both arms around your back, pulling you flush against him, his fingers climbing possessively to your nape. He grips your hair and tilts your head back to deepen the kiss. 

No longer do tongues stand still; instead, they eagerly explore. Kid pushes more, and teeth collide before he nips your lower lip and sucks it into his mouth. His hand lowers and finds the hem of your shirt, already slipping inside to touch the feverish skin of your back. 

A proper moan leaves your lips, and Kid breaks the kiss abruptly.

He doesn’t push you away, though. With your foreheads pressed together, he removes his hands from your skin as you both regain your breath.

“See what I mean? Can’t fuckin’ stop. Ye do this to me.”

Why do his words stir something so real inside you? It’s like everything he says provokes a visceral reaction in you; be it rage, desire, or this weird feeling you can’t quite explain.

“But you did stop. Does that mean we can try it again?”

“Temptress,” he teases, and you stick out your tongue at him. 

“Fineee,” you let out, trying to wiggle out of his embrace. “I’ll behave.” He eases his grip, and you take a step back, though you’re still between his legs. “Guess you can delete that awesome schedule you prepared for us the other day…”

Ass demolition… being folded like a pretzel… You sigh. 

“Ain’t doing that,” he rasps as his hands find their way back to your waist. 

“What?”

“I’ve postponed it. To a month from now.”

You raise your brow, bringing your index finger to your lips in a pensive expression. “One month? You expect me to keep my hands off you for that long?”

Kid grunts, his hands squeeze, and you don’t miss the way his eyes fixate on your curving lips. “Rules and schedules are meant to be broken, Sparkles. I ain’t the man to follow rules, ye should know that already. Still…”

You smile softly, knowing where he’s going with this. He wants to take things slow, he doesn’t want to mess this up. He’s being different for you. Having a sort of deadline; an objective, makes it real and easier to abide by.

“All right. Let’s behave, then.” You push away from him and point at Victoria. “There’s another lady that needs your attention right now, and I don’t mind sharing with her.”

Kid grins, passing by you and squeezing your ass, eliciting a small yelp from your lips, before heading towards Victoria. 

“Well, yer a better person than me, then, because I wouldn’t share ye with nothin’. Not even a car.”

-*-

“So, are you guys officially dating?” Killer tilts his head to the side, arms crossed over his chest, as Kid exits Victoria and walks over to open the trunk. He drove the car outside of the garage, and he’s waiting for you to arrive before heading off. 

“No.”

“But you said you kissed again,” Killer deadpans.

“Right.”

“And you’re not doing your ‘just for fun’ bit?” Killer keeps pressing. Kid throws a duffel bag and a toolbox inside the trunk and goes back into the garage to get his set of cleaning products to pack it too. 

“No.”

“Well, you’re really talkative today. I’m so happy we shared this insightful conversation, Kid.” 

“Aye, me too.”

If looks could kill, Kid would be dropping dead at any second now. 

He sighs, places the cleaning products inside the trunk before closing it and leaning on it. He looks over at Killer without searching for his eyes. “It’s… we… it’s a situationship, I guess.”

“The fuck is that?” Killer asks, genuinely curious.

“Fuck if I know!” Kid growls. “We ain’t dating, but we ain’t NOT dating. Got it?”

“No.”

“Fuck off! We’re somethin’. That’s it.”

Killer’s about to retort when your car pulls up and you park it in the shade. “Good morning!” you greet them, stepping out of the car and reaching into the backseat for your duffel bag. It’s an overnight stay, you don’t need much stuff. 

“Hey,” Killer waves, going into the garage for a moment. 

Kid walks over to you and grabs the bag so he can store it in the trunk. “Mornin’, Sparkles.” You show him that sweet smile that could start wars, and he fights back the urge to press his lips against yours. 

If you were anyone else, any other girl, he would’ve already done a million things to you. Surprisingly, manhandling and folding you like a pretzel are actually very tame activities for what he usually goes for. And then he would’ve dumped you without looking back or thinking twice about it. 

But you’re not just any other girl. Despite what he said the other day, you are special, and he’s not about to ruin that. Girls have taken one look at him and decided they could fix him. More times than he can count, actually. He just has this unreachable, broken aura about him that gets some girls going. 

You said you didn’t want to fix him. You said you wanted all of his broken pieces. 

And fuck it. He was not expecting that. To be accepted exactly as he is. 

So he needs to be a little bit better; he needs to try and be good, even though he doesn’t know how to do it. He’s willing to try. 

He’s about to turn to Victoria to place your bag in the trunk when you reach up, holding his face with one hand and standing on the tips of your toes just so you can land a kiss on his cheek. 

And he just stands there, like an idiot, holding your bag and staring at you.

That’s when they start to snicker. He can’t see them, but he feels them. They’re always there.

‘Coward.’

‘Undeserving.’

‘Stay miserable for the rest of your life.’

They’re ruthless. But they’re right.

He doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t deserve happiness.

Why does he even allow himself to think of a possible future with you? Sure, you’re special and different, but he’s not. He’s the same selfish, cowardly motherfucker who can’t do anything right with his life. 

He can’t drag you down with him. He refuses. 

But fuck it all to hell. He’s selfish enough to want to try, even if it hurts both of you.

Killer returns with a paper bag in his hand, and Kid immediately turns to place your bag inside the trunk, dismissing his thoughts instead of letting them cloud the time he’s about to spend with you. 

“What’s that?” you ask Killer, hopping over to his side to try to take a peek.

He gently swats your hand away and hands the bag over to Kid. “It’s breakfast. Sun’s barely up, and it’s gonna take you close to three hours to get there. You need something to eat.” The lilt in his voice tells you he’s smiling, and you thank him. Then he leans down as if he’s sharing a secret and whispers, “Good luck putting up with Kid, by the way.”

You snicker loudly, and Kid grumbles. Whenever you and Killer get together, Kid always ends up being the butt of the joke. And damn it if he doesn’t like that. Not that he would ever admit it to you two. 

“What is it?” You try to pry the bag away from Kid, but he just holds it high above your head, and you don’t even try to reach for it. Instead, you frown at him, hands on your hips.

“Sandwiches,” Killer answers. 

“No eatin’ in the car! We’ll stop soon enough to eat ‘em.” Kid places the bag on the floor of the backseat, away from your reach. “Let’s go, Sparkles.”

“Fine,” you grumble, nose crinkling in an adorable way. “But I get angry when I’m hungry.” Then you turn to Killer and wave. “Thanks, Kill. See you soon.”

Killer waves and tilts his chin up to Kid. “Hear that, Kid? She gets hangry. Make sure to feed your Gremlin soon.”

You snort on the way to the car, and Kid shakes his head at his friend, slapping him on the back. “Thanks for watching the shop, asswipe.”

Killer slaps his back, too. “Drive safely, dickhead.”

“I don’t understand this type of bromance…” you mutter before settling into your seat. 

-*-

When Kid slows down and parks Victoria on the side of the road, under the shade of a tree, you stretch your arms over your head. You’ve only been riding for forty minutes, but you tested his patience for over half an hour, saying the sandwiches smelled delicious, that you were getting pretty hungry, and that you should stop to eat. 

He got tired of listening to you whine and pulled over.

“She’s amazing,” you admit with a light tap on the dash. “You outdid yourself, Kid. Everyone’s gonna love her at the show.”

Kid grumbles, grabs the paper bag, and exits the car. You follow him as you both lean on the hood of Victoria, staring at the road stretching ahead of you; just worn-out asphalt, barely any curves. You’re in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by dirt and trees, birds, and lush greenery. It’s peaceful. 

“What’s wrong?” you try, not knowing if he’s in the mood to answer you or to be a puzzle.

“Nothin’.” Kid lets out a grunt and hands you your sandwich. 

“She’ll do just fine, Kid,” you take a guess. He fussed so much about Victoria being just right for the judges when he was prepping her that you’re pretty sure your educated guess is accurate. 

“Aye, I know. I built her.” The defensiveness in his answer shows that you were right on the money. 

“Maybe that’s why you’re so nervous. Because although they’ll be judging Victoria, you’re the one under scrutiny.”

His head snaps to the side, and he widens his eyes at you, not believing how you can already read him so well. Right on the money, indeed. 

“Whatever,” he grumbles and turns away from you. 

You unfold the foil covering the sandwich while Kid processes your words. You know he won’t talk about his real feelings, but you do know he’s listening to what you have to say to him. “She’s perfect. You did an amazing job. Everyone will love her so much, you’re going to get jealous.”

This pulls a smirk from the corner of his lips as he mimics your actions to get the wrapper off the sandwich. 

“Aye. I can handle her bein’ ogled. As long as nobody gets too fuckin’ touchy.”

You stifle a snort. “Nobody but you can touch your gall, right? Possessive much?”

He finally grins, giving you a side-eye. “Fuck yeah, I am. Ain’t nobody touchin’ what’s mine. Besides, nobody knows her like I do.” His hand drops to the hood of the car in the space between your legs, and he pats it affectionately. Then his fingers brush against the side of your thigh, and he gazes back at you. “I know every curve of her body, every little purr, everything she likes… Nobody can take care of her like I can.”

Your breath hitches as you hold his gaze. Is he still talking about Victoria?

“Good to know,” you murmur, getting back to your sandwich. “Maybe she doesn’t even want anybody else’s touch. Maybe all she craves is yours…”

You feel the heat of his hand leave your thigh even before you see it, but there’s no time to miss it when he places his fingers beneath your chin, tilting your face up so you can stare at him. 

You hold your breath again as Kid swipes his thumb across your lower lip, slowly, deliberately. “Keep sayin’ stuff like that and ye’ll be taken care of better than her.” Parting your lips, you draw a breath, ready to answer him, but he removes his hand and pats the half-unwrapped sandwich on your lap. “Eat, Sparkles. If ye eat that cold ‘cause I was busy flirtin’ with ye, Killer will murder us in our sleep.”

You huff a soft chuckle and nod, unwrapping the food and taking a greedy bite out of it. “Hmm! Damn!” You take another bite, not even bothering to swallow the first, and hum in delight again. “This is so good!” you say between bites, “Stupid good!” 

Kid snorts and takes his own bite. “Aye. Killer’s a damn good chef. Learned in the army. Used to cook us the best food ye could get in the middle of the goddamned desert.”

You nearly stop chewing. Kid never talks about their army days. You just nod, absorbing the information like a greedy little sponge. You don’t press, don’t push for more. You’ll take whatever he gives you. 

But it’s clear he’s not going to share any more for now, and that’s fine. It’s enough. Whatever he gives you, it’s enough.

“Remind me to thank him later, then.”

Kid hums in agreement, and you finish your sandwiches not long after. The silence is more comfortable than awkward at this point. 

You’re wiping your hands on your jeans when Kid throws something at you. You stumble with it, juggling the object in your hands before steadying it. With a confused gaze aimed at Kid, you raise your hand and inspect it. It’s a keychain: a guitar, a miniature Harley, and Victoria’s keys dangle from it. 

He wipes his hands on his pants, opens the passenger seat door, and sits in your place, adjusting it back so he can fit his legs. 

“Well? What are ye waitin’ for? She ain’t gonna drive herself.”

After all that talk about ’nobody touches Victoria but me,’ he just hands you the keys? Is he seriously trusting you to drive her?

“Are you serious, Kid?”

“Sweetheart, ye’ve been messin’ with her guts for weeks. She knows ye, she trusts ye. Get yer fine ass inside and let’s go. Don’t wanna be late to show her off to rich bastards.”

Well, since he’s put it that way! 

You grin, getting comfortable in his seat. Then you adjust the seat and the mirrors and take three deep breaths just before starting her up. 

“Ye ain’t givin’ birth, Sparkles. Just be careful with the clutch and let’s go.”

“Hey, I got it!” you grumble defensively. Kid snorts, opening the window and leaning his elbow. 

“I’ve seen ye drive. I’ve fixed yer car.” Kid stares back at you, an infuriating smirk painting his lips. “Watch the clutch and let’s go.” You mumble something unintelligible, mostly cursed words aimed at him, and he snickers. 

Victoria eases back into the road like she owns it, and for a vintage car, the ride is smooth as velvet. You feel happy. Kid looks happy. And the road trip extends for a few more hours that pass in a beat.

You trade places with Kid along the way again because he can’t act like a passenger princess and spends the entirety of your drive giving you pointers and being a backseat driver: ’careful with that sharp turn; that truck’s gonna hit the brakes, give him space; easy on the clutch; you can’t stand to hear him anymore, so you relinquish your seat.

Eventually, time rolls by as lazily as the road, and you reach your destination. There are still cars parking up, and one of the staff comes up to Kid to tell him where to park and that he needs to have his car ready in an hour before the judges and guests start coming in. 

The car show is being held outdoors, sprawled across a large park. The large trees cast a much-needed shade all around, and their leaves rustle softly with the vernal breeze. Kid parks Victoria in her designated spot, and you step out, stretching your arms and taking a big breath.

It smells like fresh grass, wildflowers, and, unavoidably, gasoline. 

Your eyes roam through the paved lot, taking in the car lineup in awe. There are a lot of classic cars, some well-cherished, others pristine new, like they’re never touched except for exhibits, which is probably the case. 

They’re impressive. 

But none of them is Victoria. You may be biased, but seeing her shine, burning as hot as fire amid boring classics that shine without flair, just cements this fact. She’s a beast of her own, and she’s going to claw her way to the top.

Kid groans as he too looks around. You close your door and stop beside him, placing one hand on his bicep and squeezing. “You got this, Kid. You got the best gal, don’t doubt it!”

Then you turn to open the trunk so you can take out the cleaning gear and get her show-ready. Kid grins, a very cocky grin. “Aye, I fuckin’ do have the best gal.” And when he winks at you, you’re left thinking once more if he’s talking about you or Victoria.

-*-

“I’m so exhausted!” you hide a yawn behind your hand as you walk to the motel conveniently located in front of the park. 

The first day went on in a blur of thrill and novelty. Beyond the first stressful hour when you and Kid worked hard to get Victoria gleaming and shining, everything worked out perfectly. The judges made their initial pass through the show, taking in their first impressions of the displayed cars. Their eyes lingered on Victoria with interest, and you swore Kid was proud when they nodded approvingly. 

Then came the side contests: loudest exhaust, best paint job, craziest modification. Victoria wasn’t registered for any of those competitions, but watching the crowd go wild was pretty fun. Even Kid seemed amused, grinning and smirking far more than his usual scowls. 

You had a quick lunch with some food from the food stalls, washed it down with ghastly locally brewed beer, which made you gag and almost lose your lunch. Kid called you a lightweight and suggested that you should stick with water instead of drinks made for men. He regretted that comment instantly when you started to discuss gender equality with him in a loud, passionate discourse until he was begging you to stop.

When the audience started to pour in after lunch, Kid tensed up because they were, in his words, ‘touchy, meddlesome, uneducated, and annoying.’ Though he might’ve phrased it a little less eloquently and with many more curse words in between. 

When he almost lost it, grumbling at a kid because he was about to touch Victoria with his ice-cream-covered hands, you took over talking to the public, and he only spoke to answer technical questions. You told him he did a very good job at being a grumpy Wikipedia page, if Wikipedia pages were R-rated. 

When the sun set, after your dinner consisted of a repeat of lunch minus the awful beers, the show closed for the night. Some participants decided to hit the town bars and keep the party going, but you were feeling exhausted. Kid said he wouldn’t be caught dead socializing with other people, and you knew he just didn’t want to leave you alone, because you’d never seen him say no to a few drinks. 

Now, Kid opens the door to the motel’s reception, and the obnoxious bell on the door dings to get the receptionist’s attention. Kid drops the two duffel bags on the floor and leans on the counter. 

“Hey, I had a reservation under Eustass Kid. It was a single, but now I gotta get one with two beds.” He told you during the show that he still didn’t know you were coming when he made the reservation for himself. 

The girl behind the counter chews her gum and clicks her mouse without looking at either of you, clearly bored out of her mind to be working the night shift. 

“We’re out of doubles, but we have rooms with king-size beds.”

Kid grunts a curse between his teeth. “Another single, then.”

“Oh, no need!” you chime in, stepping forward and shoving yourself between Kid and the counter. “The one with the king-size bed works just fine.”

The girl starts to click the mouse again, and Kid scowls at you, which only makes you grin. 

“Don’t worry, Kid, I’ll only bite if you want me to.”

The receptionist snaps her head up for the first time since you entered and gives you both a knowing smile. Kid tries to act annoyed at you, but the smirk and glint in his eyes tell you he’s looking forward to this as much as you are. 

“Careful not to swallow yer words, Sparkles.”

You reach for the card that the now-amused receptionist hands you, and Kid grabs the duffels. “Big words for someone who wanted two singles just a minute ago.”

He huffs a laugh and leads you outside with his hand on your lower back, barely touching but scorching you like a live flame. 

“Keep talkin’ and see where that attitude gets ye.”

Under you or over you would be great, thank you very much. These are the words you want to say, but you can’t. Because you’re both taking things slow. Torturously slow. 

“A girl can only hope…” you snicker at him, and he lets out one of those throaty sounds that send a shiver coursing through your spine but doesn’t say anything else. 

You can barely keep it together in shared spaces, as poor Killer can attest. How the heck are you going to last a full night sleeping next to this man?

Fuck.

Tags: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn @jintaka-hane @sprinkklz @baby5555 @hopelesslover06 @mars-mizuko @sleepykittycx @nerium-lil @eustasscapitankid @ren-ni @jqperi @elysian-asphodel @daydreamer-in-training @iloveyoushanks @thegalaxysedge22 @kyllium @keiva1000 @chibinasuu @my-name-is-heartache @laidenbreecatchall @moldychefboyardeecan @dazzlingstarlight23 @bearg-bia @babyboofangirl @praline357 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @traffys-heart @cherileecore @violetmatcha @theloserqueen @mapachito @shamblespirate @ibuch7

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[fraeyyassblr]

───★ ˙ AWARENESS ̟ !!

: : and how to stop overcomplicating shifting. : :

(DETAILED) part 1: my thoughts.

when I recently discovered shifting just 3 weeks ago, one of the things I noticed in the shifting community was that there were so many people that couldn't shift for years. I was worried about being those kinds of people, and the people that have claimed to be shifters seemed to have waited over 2-3 years (or I thought.. since a lot of shifters have been there since 2020-2021.)

but when I went on tumblr, I always noticed the same simplistic advice. and I noticed that this advice can even be applied for things like astral projecting and lucid dreaming, which was a bigger platform of people where I noticed that it can take people most commonly days, weeks, a month MAXIMUM in the community. there were even those kinds of meditations that were really intense, they could let you see your past life, or heal your chakras, your body.. even prayer counts! but so how come it would take longer for reality shifting when it is equally as complicated as every other practice I mentioned? (4:44PM as I type this)

but most importantly, WHY is it different for others?? And why is it a reoccurring theme btw that others sleep while others shift? Why is there a thin barrier you have to tip-toe over between sleep and shifting, huh?

ofc, I was no lucid dreamer, nor was I an astral projector. but when I saw how reality shifting was, I decided to give it a go..! I overscripted which delayed me 2 weeks of actually stepping into attempting it and I thought that was a bad thing until a shifter, @theoshifts8 , told me that there's no such thing as over scripting, under scripting, or not scripting at all! (but for that, I still recommend y'all to script especially in dangerous realities because someone once shifted to a reality but immediately d1ed the first 2 seconds upon entering.)

I had four shifting attempts and my fourth attempt was the time I mini shifted. last night I tried again, and I mini shifted again but decided to go back on purpose. so it only took me days! but how come?? I was reading stories from other people as well and I've read about a person who taught her younger brother how to shift and he did on his first try, DESPITE BEING A CHILD!! and a girl who was a spirit medium and was told by her grandmother that passed away that shifting was real! and even on shifttok, older shifters would teach shifters how to shift and then they do on their first attempt or after a short period of time! why? like, it wasn't fair!

: : UNTIL I FIGURED OUT ONE THING : :

part 2: my advice put into storytelling.

IT WAS A W A R E N E S S. (not just for that DR because I'm not going to repeat the same advice to you repeated here already.. I mean awareness with the awareness. sounds stupid? Okay hear me out)

before I shifted, I was consuming a lot of things with the rebellion and denial that it would take time to shift.. because that made no sense! why would that be something inevitable if I'M the one shifting right?? I kept nagging myself about that, I was probably using the LOA unintentionally, but sincerely I was not accepting the idea that shifting would take years.

I read a blog which was a letter for shifters who still haven't shifted for so many years, and the key was literally just awareness. I noticed a pattern. it all was just awareness and nothing else mattered. awareness, awareness, awareness. I found it in all blog posts, but most just worded it differently! But how are you supposed to be aware of that DR? Someone left a comment on one of my posts about that too!! to that, I didn't find anything that talked about it.

And even methods!! I noticed they all just used only one thing which was to induce an absence of awareness FROM this reality but a big awareness to your DR. yes, some can including affirming and countdowns but that's just to enter meditation.. so I didn't really take those countdowns and affs seriously, all I focused on was my DR and how it felt. Apparently, THAT was the awareness. like, excuse me???

1. My first three attempts, I was aware that they weren't "failed attempts" because it was something I'm progressing on, but I kept a journal and would notice what I thought held me back. my first shifting attempt? I didn't shift because I forced myself to focus on the guided meditation and ended up taking a nap in the van! (Yes, I couldn't finish meditation in bed and we were in travel and I had nothing else to do but shift, then I slept.)

Why did I take a nap? I wanted to enter the void state and that's when your body is asleep but your mind is awake. the void state detaches all your awareness from your physical reality but my body dragged my mind to sleep with it because I didn't have any mental stimulation, but the meditation which was boring.

2. My second shifting attempt, backround noises. I stopped the meditation halfway because of those damn chickens that kept screaming outside.

but everytime I'd zone out in my room until I take a nap, how come they don't make a noise? I mean, they'd MAKE noise before I zone out but 5 seconds into dozing off, the sounds are gone. and that's before I black out into a nap before I consciously think about that. I remember recording a facetime where I was tired I was about to take a nap but then rewatching the video, THE CHICKENS WERE MAKING NOISES THE WHOLE TIME BUT I DIDN'T HEAR??? That's when I understood the "absence of awareness."

3. My third attempt. I trained myself to ignore the chickens by implementing the dozing off action.. And I'd feel symptoms like being detached from my physical senses and feel like I'm floating around. until I would think about my back and then I feel my back against my bedsheets. But what happened to the feeling of those flashing lights I was seeing? what happened to feeling like I wws moving? those symptoms lasted because I would focus on those symptoms.. apparently that wasn't allowed but I just forgot about it.. though THE MOMENT I thought of my room here, I felt my bed again and I was still. In. My. CR. I learned to visualise my DR to put my awareness there but I focused on my symptoms too much to think about my DR, but when I thought about my CR after being aware that I was shifting, I was in my CR.

I then understood awareness.

4. My fourth attempt, final, I allowed myself to doze off but stimulated my mind to thinking of my DR. And what I mean by this is visualizing, but also doing things, remembering things, I wasn't just laying in bed.. like purposely generating a dream in my DR from here. I got in. For a few seconds. I felt things. I saw things. But then came back again. Well, last night I shifted again and had another mini shift, but it was intentional this time because I was like "oh omg" and a shifter @theoshifts8 (go follow them) also told me that you should think as your DR self like "what am I going to have for breakfast?" okay.

It's all in the feeling and the awareness, NOT the method.

It's not in the breathwork, in counting, in affirming, no it's not.

it's in the awareness. and yourself. It's you. love. It's you.

[brklynbxby]

A sharp breath lodged in his throat. Not from shame—Diego had long since stopped apologising for desire—but from the way she said it. Like it was nothing. Like she knew. Her voice—low, velveted, dipped in a dare—curled through the space between them and lit it aflame. Muscles coiled, jaw flexed, he watched her laugh like sin incarnate. That grin—the one that always made his hands twitch with the urge to bruise her lipstick, to taste the smirk right off her mouth—spread slow and victorious. She’d baited him, and fuck if he wasn’t already caught. “You ask that like I wouldn’t do it again,” he muttered, voice dark as molasses, thick with implication. No denial. Not even a flicker of it. Just a confession wrapped in heat. The memory hit like a strike to the sternum. That goddamn photo—her smirk framed in sunlight, skin kissed bronze, curves curved just right. He hadn’t meant to keep it, not at first. Hadn’t planned to memorise the angle of her hips or the mess of her hair, to see it every time he closed his eyes. But he did. And yes, he had.

Fingers drummed slow against the steering wheel, trying to bleed out the restless heat crawling under his skin. She was too close. The air between them smelled like citrus and smoke and her, and Diego—always composed, always three steps ahead—felt the slow, delicious unravel. “¿Tú de verdad think I wouldn’t?” he said finally, eyes locking on hers like a challenge. “That picture? That shit was war, mami. And I lost every time.” He leaned forward then, voice soft, lethal, the promise of something holy and profane. “Five fucking years, Li Li,” he murmured. “¿Tú sabes cuánto tiempo es eso? I ain't about to take some dude's offer in the showers just to survive the drought.”

Liyana bit back a smile, but it curled up anyway—slow, sly, a little dangerous. That chuckle of his had always done something to her. It wrapped around her spine like smoke, dragged heat low in her belly no matter how much she pretended otherwise. And now? Now he was looking at her like that. Like she was something worth remembering in detail. Something worth aching over. She turned toward him just as he leaned in, her thigh brushing his elbow as she moved, her voice sugarcoated but laced with sharp mischief. “Wow,” she drawled, eyes glittering with amusement, “You are right at one thing. You really are is complicated." She laughed, a soft, melodic sound that chased out the weight between them for a beat. But she saw it—how his gaze darkened as it swept over her thighs, how his words caught at the edges with a kind of raw honesty that had nothing to do with jokes anymore. And god, did that do something to her.

But when his hand grazed her thigh, that little brush of knuckles, her breath caught—not that she let it show. She just leaned her head back against the seat, lashes lowering as she exhaled slow. Fuck, he felt like a memory slipping into the present too easily. Too naturally. And part of her wanted to press into his touch, to let him remember exactly what five years hadn’t taken from them. Then he said it—you deadass gonna be naked tonight?—and she let out a laugh that was pure sin. “Oh, now you ask like it’s a threat,” she teased, lifting a brow. “I didn’t stutter, cariño. I said what I said.”

And then he said it—that thing about the picture—and Liyana blinked, caught off guard for just a second before a slow, wicked grin tugged at her lips. “Wait… seriously? You kept that picture?” she said, half-laughing, half-incredulous, like the idea was both flattering and hilariously on-brand for him. Then she leaned in a little, eyes narrowing with playful accusation, voice dropping into something warm and shameless. “Wait, wait—hold up,” she grinned. “Did you jerk off to it?” The way she said it—like it was the most natural question in the world—was pure Liyana. Teasing, bold, but layered with something softer beneath the mischief. And now, seeing the look on his face? The stunned silence, the guilty twitch of his mouth? “Oh my God, you totally did,” she laughed, head falling back against the seat.

[igotatasteforoldermendelrey]

Notice you.

Picture from ILoveBTRandHD on Pinterest

A/N : hi guys! I’ve been writing that today. This one shot is roughly inspired by The Spanish Love Deception by Elena Armas (if you like ennemies to lovers, forced proximity it’s your clue to read it). Enjoy !

English is not my first language, you might (really) find some mistakes in this, don’t hesitate to warn me !

Ship : Joaquin Torres x reader

Summary : Joaquin had asked you to accompany him as his girlfriend to his sister’s wedding because of a lie he told to his mother. Now here you were, on the west coast with him, acting like you were madly in love. Follows an incident leading to a confession.

Warnings : lies, angst, mean ex girlfriend (she tries to hit reader), swearing, denial (Joaquin’s), aerophobia (reader’s), reader can tan, Afab, feelings, mention of John Walker (yes he deserves a warning even if he isn’t here).

Let me know if I forgot something !

I do not consent to any of my work to be translated or posted anywhere else without my permission.

Banners made from Pinterest.

Come on y/n please… Joaquin begged, following you out of the common room.

No, Joaquin. I am not going to go with you to your sister’s wedding. Even less because you want to impress a girl.

It’s not to impress someone! I swear! He explained, still following. I told my sister that I was bringing someone.

And why did you lie in the first place? You pondered.

Be-because she might have mentioned that Sarah, my first girlfriend, was coming.

And?

With someone. You sighed turning around and continuing walking. W-Wait! I panicked that’s all! Please. I really need your help. I will do anything!

Anything? You asked, raising an eyebrow.

Yes! Anything!

Then I will do it.

Thank you! He exclaimed with relief.

At one condition. You’re training with John. Forever.

I- forever? Seriously?

Dude I swear if I need to hold his punching bag ever again I’m going to jump out the window. It’s non negotiable.

Fine. You’re coming with me to the wedding, I’m training with Walker. Deal?

Deal.

——-

You shouldn’t have said yes. You really shouldn’t have. But you had three days off, no one at the compound and definitely needed some change of scenario. So here you were sat in plane besides Joaquin, your legs jumping against the ground.

Are you ok?

I don’t like plane.

What? That’s not true you never had any problems in the Quinjet.

It’s completely different. In the Quinjet I’m the one piloting and if anything is going wrong then I can jump out. Not here.

It’s going to be alright. It’s a five hours flight to Los Angeles.

You’re really not reassuring me right now. You sighed putting your head in your hands. Oh and I don’t speak Spanish. Like at all. I learned Italian in high school.

It’s no big deal. My sister is marrying a dude from Austin. Believe me my family won’t be shocked by the fact you do not speak Spanish.

You looked at him from the corner of your eye, not convinced.

No really! They’re going to love you. I’m serious. He said, bumping his shoulder against yours. And we’re in this together.

Why did I let you bring me into that.

Because you dumped training with Walker?

Yeah, that’s true.

—————

You landed on time, getting your luggage and walking towards the exit where Joaquin’s family was supposed to be waiting for you. Right before crossing the doors, Joaquin looked at you before extending his hand for you to take. You take it and exhale before continuing walking.

When the doors opened, someone was already calling Joaquin’s name. It was a small old woman, wearing glasses and jumping up and down waving at you both. Joaquin’s face lighted up immediately, you could see the excitement in his eyes and yet he didn’t let go of your hand, if not clutching it tighter.

Mi hijo! You’re finally here! Oh it’s been so long. The older woman said, taking him in her arms, hugging him tightly.

Yes, Joaquin. Your grand mother has been waiting really long to see you again. Another woman speak out behind the older woman. Welcome back, I missed you.

Mom, dad. Joaquin said, taking them both in his arms. After parting way, he took back your hand in his, without even needing to look. And this is Y/n, my girlfriend.

Hi. You said with a smile. It’s nice to finally meet you.

Oh hi! You’re so pretty! Look at that girl Monica! The older woman said with a strong Spanish accent. She took your hands in hers hand pulled you in a hug.

Thank you so much.

It’s nice to meet you my love! Monica exclaimed with a big smile. Let’s get you both home now, you must be really tired.

—————

You and Joaquin entered the bedroom you were going to occupy for the two next nights. Of course there is only one bed, you knew that already so it wasn’t really a surprise. You sighed, tired from your travel and just let yourself fall on the bed, face down in the sheets.

No no no! Airport germs! You’re getting them everywhere on the bed!

The what? You asked, not even raising your head.

Come on, you’ll feel better after a shower. He hold his hand for you and showed you were the bathroom was.

————

You exited the bathroom, wet hair on your back and a towel in your hands. You see Joaquin, sat in the armchair in the corner of the bedroom, swiping on his phone.

Bathroom’s free. You announced before realising he changed his clothes. Did you already take a shower?

Yeah, I used the bathroom downstairs. Ready to go?

To go where?

Oh yeah we have a family dinner at the restaurant tonight. Both my family and my soon to be brother in law’s will be there.

And you’re just warning me now?

No, I told you in the plane.

You mean after I took the medication my doctor prescribed me? You asked him, raising your brow.

Yeah…?

For fuck’s sake. When do we have to leave?

In like twenty minutes.

I hate you. You replied, searching in your bag for a decent outfit.

No you don’t.

————

The night was calm, waves crashing on the shores not so far away from where you were all seated. Joaquin’s sister, Olivia, was everything you would have expected. A really kind, tall and friendly woman that took you immediately in her arms when her brother presented you, telling you how strong you were to pull with her brother’s shit. She insisted for you to be seated next to her, telling her bridesmaid she was already going to be next to her the whole weekend.

Joaquin watched you the whole evening, how you tried to talk with every single member of his family, laughing and telling stories about your job. When you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, all the people around the table went silent, turning to him with smiles of their faces.

What?

Oh Joaquin, she’s amazing! An aunt told him.

Yes, I think it’s the best you can do. Olivia added with a smirk. How did you manage to get her to date you?

I fought really hard to even get her to look at me. I’m not even telling you what I needed to do to get her to come on a date with me. Yeah, she is… perfect. Truly I’ve never met someone so kind yet ready to fight any asshole. She’s truly a hero. He laughed with his family.

You came back to the table, noticing a few stares in your direction. You brushed it off, thinking it was because you were the newbie in the family. You sat back between Olivia and Joaquin, who grabbed your hand in his and linked your fingers. Just for the show, of course.

————

You came home, a little bit tipsy from all the wine you drank, needing to hold onto Joaquin’s arm to walk approximately straight. He brought you to your bedroom, helped you sit on the bed before getting everything you might need to remove your make up.

I will leave you get ready, just call me when you’re done, ok?

You nodded with a smile, feeling your heart warm up.

After changing and calling Joaquin, you both faced the only bed in the room. It wasn’t really the first time you had to share a bed, except that last time you were both on a mission and hadn’t the choice.

Do you want me to sleep on the floor? It’s my fault we’re both in this situation so it’s the less I can do.

What? No! The wedding is tomorrow, you’re the first man you cannot look like shit. We will share, it’s not like it’s the first time. You replied, sitting on the right sight of the bed.

Yeah you’re right. He added and and join you in the bed. Good night, babe. He added with a smirk and that made you laugh.

————-

The next morning.

You felt something hard wrapped around you, enveloping you in warmth. It took you a few minutes to realise that the weight on you was actually Joaquin’s arm draped on your waist. You tried to escape his embrace to not make things weird when he will wake up but the first move you made led to him hugging you tighter.

You sighed, trying to think of a way to get you out of his arms. Joaquin? Wake up… you said softly, lightly shaking his arm. Joaquin?

He groaned before opening his eyes, realising you were in his arms. He simply took his arms off and smiled at you. Good morning.

Hi. You replied, sitting up in the bed.

Did you sleep well?

Yes, the bed was really comfortable. I’m gonna go get dressed while you fully wake up. You said getting up and walking to the bathroom at the end of the hallway, leaving Joaquin laying on his back on the bed, a weird feeling in the chest.

———

The day went smoothly, talking with Joaquin’s family, helping his grand mother to choose her outfit for the wedding, her insisting that what Olivia chose was making her look sick. You truly loved his family, they were always laughing and sharing stories making you feel welcomed.

The time of the wedding was approaching meaning you had to start to get ready. Joaquin was doing his first man duty and will be meeting you directly at the church.

After putting on your outfit and doing your make up, you met Monica in the living room to leave for church. When you arrived, you were surprised to see at least a hundred of people gathered in front of the doors of the church, all of them wearing beautiful outfits.

You entered the church, sat on a bench in the third row before Monica stop in front of you staring at you with amusement.

Honey what are you doing? Come sit with us, you’re with Joaquin, you’re practically like family now! She exclaimed, taking your hand and entraining to the first row.

You had a direct view on the priest, Bill, Olivia’s fiancé, and Joaquin who was standing proudly, looking at the entrance for his sister. He haven’t notice you yet and you profited of this moment to get a good look at him. He was wearing a dark green suit, with a lavender branch in the pocket on his chest. You could see how exited he was just by the smile he was giving to the assembly. Someone sat behind you knocked over a relative’s walking stick bringing his attention to your side. That’s when he saw you.

Joaquin was not someone who lingered too long on someone’s look. However, when he saw you there, sat with his family and staring at him with something in your eyes he didn’t recognised, he almost choked on his saliva. You were truly mesmerising. The colour you chose to wear was perfect for you, complementing your skin and light tan. He didn’t have the time to approach you because the music started.

Olivia walked down the aisle, accompanied by her father, clutching his arm. She was beautiful, wearing a long siren dress with a veil hiding her face. Monica grabbed your hand at the sight, tears running down her face. You took a time to stare at Joaquin and the expression on his face couldn’t be described. You realised Olivia, being the big sister, was his role model and seeing her get married might have broken a little part of his heart knowing she wasn’t going to share the same last name anymore.

The ceremony was beautiful and the newly wed left to get to the other location where the banquet was held. Joaquin met you on the porch of the church, a smile on his lips.

Hi.

Hi. It was beautiful and Olivia was absolutely perfect. You said to him with a smile.

Yes she was. I’m glad she is finally happy. He replied looking around to his family that was gathering in the cars. You have a ride? He asked.

I think your mother told me earlier she will keep me a seat in the car. I mean that was before she met a woman named Carmen who needed someone to bring her to the reception. You answered with a small laugh.

Perfect then. I will be your driver. He said, grabbing your hand and bringing you to his car.

The ride was short and quiet, you both still thinking about the ceremony. When you arrived on the parking lot of the hotel where the reception was held, so many cars were already parked and music was coming from the garden.

You climbed out of the car, grabbing Joaquin’s arm to walk on the gravel with your heels. You walked to the garden where tables were organised all over the grass, fairy lights illuminating the park.

I think your mother is waving at you, you should go see her. I will go get us drinks. You said pointing with your head in Monica’s way.

Ok, I will find you after.

And if you don’t just whistle and I will come find you. You joked thinking back at one of your first missions together.

I always find you, honey. He answered with a smirk before leaving to see his mother.

You walked up to the bar, asking the bartender for a beer and a glass of champagne.

So it’s you. Said a feminine voice behind you.

You turned around, not knowing if the person was talking to you or to someone else. The woman you saw was a tall blonde, with a pink sequin dress and a smirk.

Excuse me?

You’re Joaquin’s new arm candy, right?

If by arm candy you mean girlfriend then yes.

Nah I meant arm candy, you won’t last long enough to earn the title of his girlfriend.

You must be Sarah, right? Isn’t your boyfriend looking for you?

She scoffed before coming closer to you, stepping in your personal space. Believe me you better stay away from him if you don’t want troubles. You don’t want to mess with me. She warned.

Am I supposed to be scared or something?

You-

Here you are, honey! Joaquin exclaimed besides you. Oh hi Sarah, I see you two have already met.

Yes, I was telling her how much I loved her dress. She said, with a faux smile. It’s been a while, let’s catch up, my table is over there. She added, grabbing his arm and leading a confused Joaquin to her table.

You sighed, not knowing if you should intervene or let them be. You chose the last option, returning to your sit with a beer and a glass in each hands. When Monica saw you sitting alone at one side of the garden and her son with Sarah on the other, she scoffed and made her way to you.

I never liked that girl. She had a bad influence on my Joaquin. A true viper. Rolling her eyes, she pulled the chair besides you and sat down. She has the bad habit to threaten every single of his girlfriends he ever brought back home. Like he is her property or something. I’m telling you, I’m this close, she approached two of her fingers together, to go interrupt their conversation. Leaving you alone to talk with her, I swear it’s not how I raised him.

You laughed a little. It’s not big deal. It’s been a long time since they saw each other, they must have a lot to catch up.

I knew I shouldn’t have invited her. Olivia said, standing behind her mother and you with a frown on her face. Bill said I should because she’s close to the family. But I swear if she tries something with him I’m going to tear out her fake hair.

You laughed again, impressed by her vivacity.

I think you will have to queue for that, y/n here is the first in line. Her mom replied, passing a hand on your back.

Yeah you’re right. Don’t hesitate to go get your man, Y/n. I can tolerate arguments if it implies she’s put back at her place. The bride added with a wink before returning to her husband.

You decided to give them ten minutes, after what you will go join them in their conversion, not wanting to be seen as the poor girl her boyfriend is cheating on in front of everyone. You stand up after two when you saw her grab his arm while laughing out loud.

You crossed the garden, coming to stand beside Joaquin, passing your hand in his hair which made him follow your hand afterwards.

Is everything alright? He asked with seriousness to which you nodded. Let’s get something to eat. He told you, before smiling apologetically at Sarah and grabbed your hand.

Well that was something. You started, looking at him with a smirk.

What do you mean?

Well she intimidated me then stayed glued to you since she got here, and I’m not even talking about the fact she quite literally stole you from me as soon as you joined us at the bar.

Intimidating you? No she couldn’t do that. He laughed like it was the nicest joke you ever said. She must have been joking.

No Joaquin. She wasn’t.

Come on, you don’t need to play the jealous girlfriend, they already all believe we’re together.

You don’t believe me. Oh my- You still like her!

Shhh. What?

Either way you would have believed me. Right now it’s like you think she is perfect.

That really not it. It’s just that, I mean she’s not like that. I know her since a long time.

Not even defending your fake girlfriend. You said with a roll of your eyes. Stay in your denial if you want to, but she is not a good person. You told him, before going back to sit at your table.

The evening went without any other incidents except Sarah staring at you with dagger the whole night. When the time of the toast came, Joaquin stand up to make his speech.

Olivia, Bill, I cannot tell you how happy I am for the two of you. Oli, to finally see you happy with someone, someone who can make you laugh even in the worst moments. Bill, when she told me about you, a guys from Texas, I’m not going to lie I thought you were going to be an asshole. And after all, you’re not. You’re one of the funniest man I ever met, and the luckiest bastard too to marry my sister. Just so you know, I’m friend with Captain America so you really don’t want to mess with her. The whole assembly laughed. Anyway, I hope me and my beautiful Y/n, he raised his glass to you, will become like the two of you. To the newly weds ! He exclaimed raising his glass high before kissing his sister who was trying to hide her tears.

He came back to sit besides you, looking at you and smiling when he saw the look he gave you. You wiped away a tears that escaped your eye.

Are you ok? He asked, putting his hand on top of yours.

Yes, I just didn’t expect your speech to be this emotional.

I did my best.

The evening continued, the dinner was excellent and everyone was enjoying the party, dancing and singing along the songs played by the Dj.

Wanna dance? Joaquin asked, holding out his hand to you.

I’m really bad at it.

So am I. So don’t worry they will be laughing at me.

You stand up with him and went together on the dance floor. He grabbed softly your waist, letting you the time to stop him if you wanted to. Instead, you put your arms around his neck, smiling up at him.

You danced the evening away, parting way to get some refreshments. You didn’t understand why your heart wouldn’t stop pounding that quickly in your chest. You both couldn’t take your eyes off one another, something in yours eyes you couldn’t really name.

At the end of the night, half of the guest already left, too tired to continue dancing and already thinking about next morning’s brunch. Only the close friends and family stayed, still laughing with Olivia and Bill.

You were standing against a wall where wallflowers grew, fresh air caressing your face. Your were watching Joaquin talking with his family, the way he was standing tall and happy. It warmed your heart to see him like that. Yes he was the golden retriever of the team, always trying to get everyone to smile. But there, in this environnement it was at another level.

You still didn’t understand it right? Sarah said besides you.

Can’t you leave me alone?

Leave you alone? No. Not as long you’re not gone from his life. I know people and I’m not scared to go dirty.

I’m kinda impressed by how sure of yourself you are. But I am not scared. And by the look on your face you’re the one scared of me. Now please, let us be. You added before looking behind her and realising Joaquin and Monica were both watching you.

You left her behind, going to join them both.

————

You were speaking with Silvia, Joaquin’s grand mother, and Monica when you felt warmth behind you. Joaquin was standing behind you, a light blush on his cheeks from the alcohol and the dancing. He wrapped his arms around your waist and you let him, not feeling the need to get out of it.

You wanna leave? He whispered in your ear.

You sure you don’t want to stay longer?

Nah. And I will see them tomorrow. Come on. Let’s go. He took your hand, lighting pulling you towards him. Ma, abuela, we will see you both tomorrow.

You walked towards the entrance of the hotel to get the car when you heard someone calling you behind. You both turned around and realised Sarah was running behind you, a death stare directed at you. When she arrived at your level, you saw her right hand twitch and before you knew it she was launching at you. You grabbed her arms in the middle of the way, avoiding the impact.

The fuck you think you’re doing?! You exclaimed.

I told you I wasn’t scared to go dirty. She replied, ready to try to hit you again.

Joaquin didn’t react, not knowing what to do or say, too shocked by the gesture.

You’re fucking crazy. Where did you see it was alright to try to hit someone like that? She was still fuming. Joaquin. You called out his name, trying to get a reaction out of him.

What the fuck, Sarah? He finally reacted. Why would you do that?!

Because I love you! I’m better than her!

You scoffed, too tired for this shit. I will leave you deal with that, call me when you’re done. You said, walking towards where the car was parked.

You hear them argue, not stopping until you find the car. You realised the beach wasn’t that far from where you were standing and decided to go take a walk while Joaquin was taking care of Sarah.

—————

There you are. Joaquin said, standing beside you, his hands in your pockets.

Did you take care of her? You asked not even looking at him, staring at the ocean.

Yes. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. I should have.

You were in denial. It happens to the best of us. You replied, feeling the sand move beside you as the young man sit.

I think I didn’t thank you enough for what you did this weekend.

I gain something from it. I mean not training with Walker is a fucking grace.

You both laughed at that. After a while you put your head on his shoulder, feeling his own head on yours.

Can I ask you a question?

Yes.

Why did you ask me? I mean it’s not like I’m the only one in the building. And it’s not like no one had eyes for you.

You noticed girls interested in me?

Dude even Sam did. You don’t want to know how many people asked me about your romantic life.

I don’t notice them. He simply replied, his words full of another meaning.

You raised your head to look at him, noticing how close you two were.

Let’s get you home, yeah?

You nodded, still staring at him. He helped you get on your feet and escorted you to the car.

When you arrived in front of the building, he ran to get on your side and open your door, helping you get out of the car. He held your hand, even when he opened the front door or the door of the apartment. He didn’t let go until you were in the bedroom. His parents and grand mother were not home yet, and you didn’t know if they were going to come home or stay at the hotel to avoid getting on the road.

You haven’t talked since you left the beach, too conscient of the fragility of the moment. His thumb was caressing the top of your hand, you looked up at him, smiling softly at him.

You asked me why I asked you. He started, looking at your hands. I don’t know why, but when I started to think about it, you were the only person it could work with. It made sense. And I lie to you… when I told you I hadn’t noticed the others looking at me. But I don’t care about them… not in that way. I only notice you.

You couldn’t speak or move.

I notice how in the morning you make sure there is enough coffee in the pot for everyone. I notice how you’re always hyper vigilant about everything around, that’s how you knew Sarah was going to hit you. I notice how you always make sure that the shoelace on your right foot is tightly tied because that’s how you broke your leg before during training. I notice how you blush when you like something even though you’re trying to hide it. I notice everything about you.

Silence.

And earlier, when you told me about Sarah… I didn’t want to believe you because it would’ve meant you actually care much more than I thought you did. And she was the safe option… I mean when she doesn’t take herself for a fucking mobster.

You laughed at that. Joaquin then put his hands on your cheeks, making you look up to him before crossing the line between friends and lovers.

That night, you slept better than you ever did in the past years.

———————

The next morning.

You both arrived late to the brunch, holding hands and running toward the table. Everyone was already seated and eating when you both arrived at the end of the table. Monica, Olivia and Silvia all smiled widely at the sight.

When Olivia realised you were anxiously looking around the table, she got up and came closer to you. Don’t worry, I made sure she couldn’t come here. We don’t raise hands on family. She said, a hand on your right shoulder. Now come on, go sit down before they eat everything.

—————

Wait wait wait. That’s how you guys started dating?! Sam exclaimed. Because you, he pointed to Joaquin, asked you, he pointed to you, to accompany him to a wedding?

Yes?

And your ex tried to hit her?!

Yeah.

I don’t know if I should be impressed or scared.

Just be happy? You said, grabbing Joaquin’s hand in yours.

And that how you crossed the line, losing a friend to find a lover. Someone that noticed you.

[bitchinbarzal]

Don't cowboy me 😔

- pinterest anon

It started on a Wednesday.

Iris was sitting at the kitchen counter, flipping through her math workbook, chewing on her pencil like she always did when she was nervous.

Nico was checking his calendar, half-listening to Arlo babble in the high chair, Luca humming to himself on the floor.

“I think something’s wrong with Mama,” Iris said quietly.

Nico glanced up. “What do you mean?”

“She’s different.”

He frowned. “She’s just tired. She’s been busy.”

“She’s always tired,” Iris replied. “But she used to smile. She hasn’t done that in a long time.”

Nico blinked.

“She doesn’t laugh at Luca’s jokes,” Iris continued, voice soft but steady. “She forgot Arlo’s new word yesterday. She didn’t even hear it.”

Nico felt it like a fist to the ribs.

“She’s still here,” Iris said. “But she’s not really… here.”

He found her folding laundry in their bedroom later that night. The light was low. Her face was blank. Her motions robotic.

“Hey,” he said softly.

She didn’t look up. “Hi.”

“Can we talk?”

She nodded once, set the shirt in her hand down.

“Iris said you seem different,” he said carefully. “That you haven’t smiled in a while.”

Still no reaction. No denial.

“I didn’t notice,” Nico admitted, shame heavy in his voice. “That’s on me.”

She looked up then.

And her eyes were full.

“I’m not mad,” she whispered. “I’m just… tired.”

He moved closer. “I know.”

“No, N.” Her voice broke. “You don’t. You think I’m tired like I need a nap. I’m tired like I’m disappearing.”

Nico’s chest tightened.

“I get up early. I handle the kids. I juggle work and laundry and school forms and the calendar you don’t check. I say I’m fine because I know you’re busy. But I’m not. I’m not fine.”

A tear slid down her cheek. She wiped it fast, like she didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“I feel like I’m living next to you. Not with you.”

Nico reached for her hand. She let him hold it.

“I love you,” he said, voice thick.

“I know you do,” she whispered. “But I need more than love. I need a partner.”

He knelt in front of her, forehead to her knee, heart pounding.

“I hate that I made you feel like this. That I let you get this tired without seeing it. That I didn’t fight for you before you slipped away.”

She cried then. Quiet, shaking sobs that she tried to hide behind her hand.

Nico didn’t speak.

He just held her.

Because this wasn’t something he could fix with flowers or apologies. This needed action. Change. Every day. Forever.

He’d do it.

Because he wasn’t going to lose her.

Not again.

It didn’t happen overnight.

Nico didn’t expect it to.

He’d stopped trying to say the right thing and started doing the right things instead. Packing school bags. Unloading the dishwasher. Taking Arlo out for walks so she could answer emails without a baby on her chest.

He set alarms for preschool pickups. Made Luca’s dentist appointment. Reorganized the calendar on the fridge.

She didn’t comment. Not at first.

She was quiet. Watching. Waiting to see if it would last.

And he let her. Because she’d earned that right.

Two weeks into the offseason, she had a pitch meeting over Zoom. Big client. Big ask. It was one of the first times in months she sounded energized.

Nico kept the kids outside the whole time—Luca with a soccer ball, Iris reading under a tree, Arlo passed out in the stroller.

When they came back in, the meeting was done, her laptop closed, her shoulders lighter.

She stood in the kitchen eating cold strawberries straight from the container, still in her glasses, hair in a messy bun.

“Hey,” he said, brushing past her to grab a snack for Luca.

She looked up just as he accidentally knocked the entire tub of blueberries off the counter.

They hit the floor like tiny marbles rolling under chairs, bouncing off the fridge.

He froze. “Shit.”

And then—she laughed.

Not a polite chuckle. Not a tired exhale.

A real laugh. Warm and sudden and hers.

Nico straightened slowly, heart hammering.

“You okay?” he asked.

She was still laughing, shaking her head, wiping her eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

“Yeah, but I cleaned the bathroom today, so…”

She smiled, breathless.

And it hit him like a wave—he was getting her back.

Not just her presence. Not just her parenting. Her.

The love. The softness. The version of her who believed she was allowed to rest. To laugh. To be cared for.

He knelt to pick up the blueberries, and she joined him on the floor.

Their hands brushed, and this time, she didn’t pull away.

That night, it was quiet.

The kids were asleep. The lights were low. Nico lay on his back in bed, one hand resting on his chest, the other still warm from where she had touched it hours ago in the kitchen.

He didn’t expect her to come to him.

But she did.

Slow and silent, she crawled into bed beside him, then curled into his side like she used to. Head on his shoulder. Fingers brushing the hem of his t-shirt.

He didn’t move. Just breathed.

She sighed.

“Today was better,” she whispered.

He smiled into the dark. “You laughed.”

“Don’t push it,” she murmured, but he could hear the smile.

He turned his head, kissed her hair.

“I want to take you away.”

She blinked. “What?”

“I already asked my mom and Nina. They’ll watch the kids. I want a week. Just us.”

She sat up slightly, searching his face.

“Nico…”

“Somewhere warm,” he said. “Where no one calls you ‘Mama’ or asks you for juice or wipes anything on your shirt.”

She laughed again. Quiet, breathy, surprised.

“You really planned that?”

“I already booked it.”

She stared at him.

“You deserve to be cared for,” he said. “Not just when you’re falling apart. Always.”

Her eyes filled. She didn’t fight it this time.

“You’re not going to lose me again,” he whispered. “I won’t let you.”

She slid back into his arms, tighter this time. Certain.

“I missed you,” she murmured.

He held her like he was never letting go.

“I missed us.”

She wore white linen and walked barefoot in the sand.

The sun kissed her shoulders, and Nico followed in her shadow like a man remembering how to breathe.

She wasn’t rushing. She didn’t have a diaper bag or a schedule or sticky hands tugging at her legs. Just a thin cotton dress swaying in the breeze and sunglasses she barely used because she kept turning to smile at him.

Nico swore he fell in love again every time she did.

He kissed sunscreen into her shoulder on their first morning, hands slow, reverent. Her skin warm from sleep. Her laughter breathless as she murmured, “You missed a spot.”

He didn’t.

They swam in the ocean until their fingers pruned and their minds quieted.

They napped on the beach like teenagers, limbs tangled under a single towel, her head on his chest, his heartbeat steady again for the first time in months.

They touched like they hadn’t in so long—not hurried, not tired, not giving out what was left after everyone else had taken their share.

No. This was slow.

Intentional.

His hands memorizing the curve of her back. Her lips against his collarbone. Their hips finding each other in silence, again and again, like a language they hadn’t spoken in too long.

There were no dishes.

No school calendars.

No media calls.

No guilt.

Just Nico and the girl he chose at twenty-one and still woke up wanting every day after.

Just Mama—not as the center of everyone else’s world, but as his.

[mn-markimew]

DannyMay2025 Day 13 Truth

"Mom, Dad, can I talk to you?" Danny stood next to the couch, holding his arm. The teen looked sad. No. He looked scared. Nervous. Like something life changing had or will soon take place. Jack and Maddie turned to look at Danny. Their son's nervousness.

"Danny, of course you can. What's on your mind?" Jack was the first to respond, giving his son a smile. The Fenton parents both looked worried about the youngest child, watching as he took a deep breath.

"You both said you'd love me no matter what. That you'd accept me no matter what I do or what I say." Danny started off, studying his parent's faces. He watched them nod, and continued. "I know you remember when the ghost portal began to work. Did either of you ever question how it started working? You plugged it in and nothing happened. Why did it suddenly start working?"

"Well, we theorized that by plugging it in, the initial failure created a rift that allowed a portal to form, and the continued energy flow to it allowed it to stay open." Maddie thought out loud. It was the theory they had gone with all this time. These four years.

"That might be the case, but it wasn't all of it. Did you ever notice that my jumpsuit was gone? Or maybe, that the on/off switch was inside the portal? Because I found it. When I realized I did, it was too late. Mom, Dad, the portal turned on with me inside of it." Danny saw his parent's eyes grow wide, realizing they did in fact install that switch inside the portal.

"Danny, what are you saying? You would have been burned. Electrical burns over your entire body. You would have died." Maddie leaned forward, her face reading only concern. She reached for Danny's hand, wanting only to comfort her baby boy. But Danny only stepped away instead.

"I know. I…I did die. But I didn't. I don't know how to explain it. But that's not the only thing that happened. Do you remember how clumsy I got after the portal turned on? How I kept dropping beakers at school?" Jack and Maddie both nodded. It wasn't easy to forget the amount of money they had to pay in equipment replacement fees that years.

"Who else appeared that year?"

Danny watched his parents think. They must have come up with an answer at the same time, because they looked at each other, and then back at Danny.

"Phantom." Danny nodded at his parent's response.

"Right. Now think about it. The portal turns on. I drop every piece of glass I touch, almost like they slip through my hands. And Phantom appears in town. All at the same time." Danny wanted them to figure it out on their own with the clues he gave. He wanted to see the realization in their eyes when they learned that for all these years, they'd been hunting their own son.

"What are you saying? Those are purely coincidental." Maddie said, frowning. There was a faint realization in her eyes, and Danny could see the denial as well. Even if they did figure it out, they would never admit it. With no other options, Danny gave his parents a serious look.

A chill went through the room as bright white rings appeared, and spread over his body. Seconds later, Phantom stood there.

"I wanted to tell you. For so long. But you would show me your weapons, and tearing me apart molecule by molecule. I was scared. I'm still scared." Danny explained. Green eyes met purple and blue eyes, humans shocked by what they were seeing.

Silence lingered in the room for an uncomfortable amount of time. Danny began to worry when they weren't speaking. "Say something, please." Danny could feel the tears coming to his eyes.

Jack said nothing. He did however, stand up and pick Danny up in one of his trademark hugs. He could feel part of his shirt get wet, and realized that Jack was crying. "Danny, I'm sorry we ever made you hide this from us. You're the town hero, Dann-o. I don't understand how this is even possible, but I'm so proud of you for telling us."

Putting Danny down, Jack looked at his wife. The shock had left her face, leaving something unexpected behind. Anger. She was mad? Danny took a step toward her, and saw her flinch and move to the other side of the couch. She didn't look at him.

"My son is dead. All this time, he's been dead. All this time, you were possessing my son's corpse. You…Phantom, you're a monster!"

[noteofjoy]

You know there is something else I've been thinking about that isn't really touched upon in the CRK game. What happened to Pure Vanilla after the Dark Flour War? Cause it seems like none of the other Ancients knew either. And I have a theory.

Since Pure Vanilla realized who Dark Enchantress was first he probably desperately felt like he had to keep this a secret from the others so that betrayal didn't cloud their judgment as they fight. But also for the more selfish reason of not wanting to believe it himself.

So he ends up using a powerful spell that used his memories of White Lily to construct a fake but realistic version of her to make it appear like she was fighting along side with them. But I believe that keeping up a spell for that long would have a heavy cost.

So when the Ancients come to an agreement to seal away Dark Enchantress I firmly believe that Pure Vanilla chose to use himself and his fake White Lily for the ritual without telling the others. That’s why Gingerbrave and Co see an echo of White Lily before they accidentally released Dark Enchantress.

But as I said before the spell would come at a heavy cost for Pure Vanilla as in he vanishes after doing the sealing magic, maybe his own body helped in the construction of the prison, leaving Holly, Cacao, and Cheese completely in the dark. They probably thought they just lost two of their closest friends.

It's why Holly felt like a failure to protect and started drinking to forget, among trying to avoid her duties. It's why Cacao felt he had to close everything off, in addition to being attacked by his own son. And it's why Cheese felt like she lost everything. Not only did she lose two of her precious friends but her entire kingdom as well.

Quite the fabrication Pure Vanilla pulled off.

But of course over time the seal began to weaken and that's why I think it was so easy for Gingerbrave and co to break the moon crystal so easily. But while the seal was weakening the magic must've spat Pure Vanilla out. And due to the fact that he used his own memories to construct the fake White Lily as well as using that in the seal it caused Pure Vanilla to wake up without any memories. Causing him to wander aimlessly until he met Black Raisin and her little tribe, choosing to stay with them as Healer Cookie.

As for why Pure Vanilla didn't get his memories back as soon as the kids broke the seal, well I think that's still connected to his huge feelings of grief and denial of what happened. On a subconscious level he didn't want to remember. But thanks to the kids and the Light of Truth he did, and he became Pure Vanilla once more.

But after everything that happened the guilt must've continued to eat away at him for making his other friends worry so... and lying to them. So that's likely why he told them the truth after being reunited despite his own personal grief.

Sorry for the ramble but thanks to the new events with Hollyberry and Eternal Sugar I just couldn't help but point out how all three Ancients who went back to their kingdoms were dealing with grief in addition to what was going on in their individual kingdoms. So I wouldn't be surprised if they all assumed White Lily and Pure Vanilla died at the end of the Dark Flour War.

[ghost-bison]

something so interesting about the nuwho doctors' lifespans:

war doctor: huge lifespan probably (he looks young when 8 regenerates into him and then old so he probably lived long cause time lords take longer than humans to physically age). it represents how long the time war lasted and how worn out he was by the end of it

ninth doctor: we only have ominous knowledge of this guy's actual lifespan. he wasn't freshly regenerated when series 1 started contrary to what the show lets you believe. he looked surprised by his appearance when he looked at himself in the mirror in "rose" but then extended media showed that it's not because he had just regenerated, but because he hated himself and smashed all the mirrors in the tardis. so i don't think we actually know, which really works for this incarnation cause he's basically the mysterious one

tenth doctor: only lived six years, poor little guy. he was the most human out of all his incarnations and as the doctor isn't actually human, it didn't work out for him at all. i think ten was basically the most fragile/vulnerable out of his incarnations

eleventh doctor: over a thousand years. so, kinda long. this little bitch is literally labeled "the one who forgets". he's in denial, avoids his problems, avoids the humanity he picked up along the way of his long life, pretends to be childish when he's actually a fucked up old man in the head... he's one of the more alien incarnations. which works out for him cause, well, he's an alien

twelfth doctor: ambiguous, cause he was trapped for 4 billion years, which was a time loop so i don't think it counts for the purposes of this post? like, it's not relevant. apart from that, i don't think he lived very long. which again works like ten cause after being the denial little cutie pie he puts on this new face which is, actually, a reminder of his connection to humanity (courtesy of donna loml). again, doesn't work out so well for him

thirteenth doctor: a bit over twenty years, if i'm not mistaken. so not long considering time lords age really slowly and only regenerate thirteen times normally. and again, i noticed this doctor actually talked about her past and ptsd when prompted instead of just trauma dumping randomly and then shutting tfu for the rest of her life like 10, 11 and 12 did (9 didn't, he'd just get pissed if people asked questions and then give the silent treatment). so thirteen delves more into her human side. and again... she didn't last long

fourteenth doctor: if we consider bigeneration then it's only like 2 days or so i think, which is short af, but then he got to spend his lifetime with donna (the long way around as he likes to call it) and i like to think he was able to set his own aging on human so he could age with her (i know if that was the case 10 could have done it with rose but cmon, 10 was emotionally constipated as hell and also a bit narcissistic so this would explain why he didn't). so again, more human incarnation = shorter lifespan

[pupmkincake2000]

“I’m with him — I mean, not like that.”

Have been replaying this part. Just look at Connor's face when Hank asks him what to do with the android. He's fucking smirking!

Also, I have a lot of thoughts about that scene.

This line may sound throwaway at first, but it speaks volumes. To think that I have never looked at this scene and phrase from such a perspective!

No one accused Hank of being there “like that” with Connor. No one asked. No one implied. He brought it up on his own. And that’s the point.

The phrase is a classic Freudian slip 🤣— the kind people make when their brain jumps ahead to a possibility they don’t want voiced. It’s overcompensation, a sudden urge to distance oneself from something that hadn’t even been suggested.

That makes it less of a denial… and more of an unconscious admission.

I mean... his face and reaction

I think, Hank has considered the possibility that someone could interpret his dynamic with Connor as something more.

His phrasing is awkward, rushed, and overly defensive — not angry, not disgusted, but uncomfortable. That’s not the reaction of someone who’s secure and unaffected. It implies internal conflict, not external pressure.

And it matters, because... well. At this point in the story, Hank has grown closer to Connor — they’ve shared tension, respect, banter, and moments of concern. This small, spontaneous comment shows that he’s aware of how it might look. And more importantly — it shows that he cares.

You don’t clarify something unless it’s already been on your mind.

It’s not proof of attraction. But it’s proof of thought. And in storytelling, that’s where feelings start. If Hank didn’t see Connor that way, the line would never have happened. He wouldn’t have said it. He wouldn’t have needed to.

Also, why reacting like that at all? It's just Traci. The club staff isn’t paying attention to their dynamic. Connor certainly says nothing. Yet Hank volunteers this clarification — immediately and awkwardly.

He’s not reacting to others. He’s reacting to himself.

And let’s not forget — Traci is not a deviant. She’s not judging. She’s not even listening that way.

So Hank probably isn’t clarifying to her. He’s not worried about how she interprets things. He’s speaking into a void — and that makes the line more revealing, not less.

He’s trying to neutralize a thought before it settles. And he says it to a character who won’t even process it.

Which means this isn’t a social defense. It’s a burst of personal discomfort.

This isn’t a joke. It’s not comic relief. It’s a man who’s suddenly self-aware of how close he stands to someone — emotionally or physically — and doesn’t know what to do with that feeling.

He panics. He jokes. He fumbles.

And the camera keeps rolling.

The devs could’ve cut that line. They didn’t. Which means they wanted it there. They saw what it implied — and they let it stay.

Once again, this line doesn’t prove romantic intent. But it absolutely proves perceived closeness, internal tension, and subconscious discomfort about what it might look like — or what it might already feel like.

People don’t deny what they’ve never considered.

Hank says, “not like that,” because at some level — for a second — he did imagine what “like that” might look like🤣

And that’s why the moment matters. Not because it confirms anything explicitly, but because it shows that something unspoken has started to surface.