#i mean part of me feels dumb for finding this out so late but another part of me is just vibin

[lovebugism]

ok reader x eddie having a casual conversation about sex, talking about what they're both into, leading to some smut??? just hearing what eddie's into sounds so hottttt (i imagine its filthy,, sorry)

ty for requesting! hope you like it!! — a failed date with eddie leads to a night in and several confessions (established relationship, mostly fluff, talks of sex but no actual smut 18+, 1.6k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie Munson is a hopeless romantic.

Not because he loves like it’s breathing (though some would argue otherwise), but because his attempts to be affectionate with you are complete and utter failures.

He had a whole romantic day planned. A late lunch, a quick walk, and then sunset at the park. Honestly, it probably would’ve been a pretty metal date if it was any day other than this one — the biggest flood of the whole goddamn year.

You got to the diner just fine but had to rush back to the trailer in the rain since he didn’t have his van. Thankfully, it waited to outright pour until he got you home. Now, his leather jacket — which you’d used as a makeshift umbrella — hangs beside the opened window to dry.

The orange autumn breeze rolls over your bare bodies like silk (because, of course, an innocent shower after getting drenched in the rain couldn’t not end in getting dirty again).

“Was all this just a ploy to get me into bed?” you tease, tracing the freckles on his back with the tip of your finger. “’Cause you coulda just asked, you know? I would’ve said yes.”

Lying flat on his stomach, Eddie laughs into his folded-up arms. His deep brown hair brushes his pale shoulders when he turns to look at you. His smile is swollen and rosy and crooked.

“You got me, princess. Making my girlfriend walk in disgusting weather was all a part of my evil plan.”

“I wouldn’t say it was evil.”

“No?”

“Sinful, maybe. Sexy, even,” you joke with a lopsided grin. “But no, not evil.”

“Is that so?” he lilts as he rises on his elbow to prop his cheek on his fist.

You shake your head and roll onto your back. Your eyes flit to the spotted ceiling. A smirk blossoms on your lips. “I feel like evil would imply that it was hurtful in some way. And that thing you did in the shower felt way too good to be evil.”

“What thing?” the boy wonders with pinched-together brows.

You shoot him a look. “You know…” you hum vaguely, expectantly.

“No. I don’t, actually,” Eddie laughs, mostly at himself. “I’m kinda dumb, in case you forgot.”

“You’re not dumb, Eds.”

“Stop being sweet. You’re deflecting.”

You concede with a small huff. “That… That thing. With your mouth. When you pressed me against the wall and— please, don’t make me describe it, Eddie,” you ramble, then cut yourself off to whine.

He meets your grimace with a boyish grin. “I don’t know. I kinda like hearing you talk about it.”

“I’ll die,” you deadpan.

“You’re so dramatic.”

His words are harsh, but his pink smile is kind. He kisses you with it after — a smacking peck to the corner of your mouth that migrates rather quickly. He sprinkles his lips along your jaw and chin and neck. 

That’s where he lingers. 

Eddie finds your pulse point and goes a half-inch higher, just like he did while he was fucking you against the shower wall. You nearly came the first time he kissed you there. 

He sucks at the delicate skin until he leaves another faint mark. The feeling of his tongue and teeth on your newfound sweet spot makes your toes curl. It has you moaning out loud before you mean to.

His lips audibly smack when he pulls away.

“That thing?” he wonders, smiling down at you like he already knows the answer.

Your thighs clench together. Your bones are made of mush. “That thing,” you repeat in the affirmative.

“Well, if we’re sharing secrets…” Eddie singsongs, then leans in all close like he’s about to spill the latest gossip. His fingers spread out along your bare waist, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I really liked it when you got all mean.”

You hadn’t thought much of it, then — when Eddie edged you on the counter with his fingers and laughed when you writhed. 

You didn’t even let him make it up to you after, just sucked him off and told him he wasn’t allowed to touch you. “Don’t cum ’til I tell you to, understand?” you’d said. “Or I’m gonna get myself off, and you’re gonna watch.”

He was a good boy for you, though, and you let him fuck you in the shower.

Your nose scrunches in muted embarrassment. “I wasn’t being that mean, was I?”

“No. I mean, you could certainly get meaner…” Eddie assures with a shake of his head, then grins as his fingers crawl up your ribcage. You fight back a shiver. “Which I think could be preferable from time to time.”

“So, you want me to be more… dominant?”

He shrugs a pale, freckled shoulder. “Yeah. Sometimes. I like watching you get all dumb for me, don’t get me wrong, but every time you get a little mean, I almost cum in my pants.”

The blatant confession makes you go slightly stupid. You just nod at him, lazy and unblinking. “Yeah. I can do that. You know, if that’s what you want.”

“I do want,” Eddie hums, matching your sloppy head shake. His nicotine-coated breath fans across your cheek. “Very, very much.”

“But not all the time, though, right?”

“No. Not all the time. Just… sometimes— when the moment’s right or whatever.”

“Sure…”

Eddie’s grin broadens when you trail off. A faraway look glazes over your eye. His brows raise expectantly. “What’s that look for?”

You blink rapidly as you descend from the clouds. Shaking your head, you dismiss him. “Nothing. Nothing— I just… I did kinda like not letting you come right away.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Eddie concurs, suddenly breathless.

Your gaze flits to his, mousy and twinkling. Your hands fidget above the covers. “And I kinda wanna try letting you cum and maybe… not stopping…”

Eddie’s eyes go wide. His mouth opens to respond, but he forgets how to speak. He barely remembers to breathe.

“Is that… Is that weird?” you ask, forcing a laugh at his unusual silence.

“No!” he blurts, sounding much louder in the honeyed quiet of his bedroom. “No, that’s… That’s really hot, actually. Like, really hot.”

He zones out just like you had. The imagery of it all makes his stomach whirl. He’s done it to you a number of times — brought you to the edge and kept on pushing you over until you pushed him away. But he’d never thought about ever doing it to himself till now. 

Actually, there’s quite a lot of things he’s done to you that he might enjoy himself if he thinks about it.

The thought alone opens a world of possibility in his wild, wild head.

“Can I tell you about something I was thinking about the other day?” he wonders suddenly.

Though slightly startled by the blurted question, you nod. “Of course.”

His gaze flits away from yours. His hand fidgets at your waist, fingers softly scratching at your burning skin. “You know my handcuffs? The ones I clip on my jeans sometimes?”

Again, you nod.

“Well, I— I have the keys, you know? So it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if we— you know— if we used them…”

“On me?” you press, brows pinched in distant concern.

Eddie shakes his head immediately. “No. I know you don’t like that.”

“So… on you?”

“Yeah. Maybe. If you want,” the boy mumbles, suddenly shy in a way you’ve only seen a handful of times — including earlier, when he was begging to cum in your mouth. “I just think it could be cool, you know? Like, you could tie me up and just… use me. If you want,” he repeats.

“Use you?” you repeat with a soft laugh.

He shrugs. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t— I don’t really care about getting off as much as I care about you getting off, you know? I just… wanna take care of you. Want you to take what you want.”

You open your mouth to respond only to find that all words have lost meaning. Your brain is a jumbled mess of alphabet soup. So you just nod, dumb at the very thought.

Eddie’s hand rises from the covers. His palm settles warm at your jaw. His fingers smell faintly of sex as his calloused thumb smooths across your chapped lips. “You could, like, rub yourself on my cock. Get yourself off on top of me,” he murmurs lowly to you, a quiet and crooked grin pulling at his mouth. “Wouldn’t that be metal?”

“Yeah…” you answer with a sigh, getting lost in the daydream right along with him. “Wouldn’t put you inside me at first, either. Not until you’re begging for it.”

His smile widens. “Exactly.”

“Then I’ll ride you until you make me cum.”

Eddie nods, egging you on. He tucks his face into your neck, if only to conceal how ardently he’s blushing. He hides his pink cheeks between your jaw and shoulder and kisses you where he knows it’ll drive you crazy. 

“Mhmm?” he urges, muffled.

You sigh a faint moan. Your fingers curl in his wild hair. You press your lips to his temple and continue. “And I’ll let you come, too. Eventually… But I won’t stop.”

“Fuck,” he groans into your pulse.

“Not until you’ve filled me up three times—”

“Oh, fuck…”

You tug at his hair with a soft, stern touch you think you could learn to master for him. His lips click faintly when he parts from you. He blinks down at you with glassy chocolate eyes.

“Something like that?” you wonder, feigning innocence with a sweet-sounding lilt.

Eddie nods, sloppy and stupid. He stammers. “Yeah… Yeah. Some—Something like that.”

[catsukkii]

whoever requested older brother is GOATED im obsessed i #needhim plz make a new part 💔

well ur in luck! (sorry this is sooo late chat.)

— Off-limits, Right? ft. katsuki bakugo

IN WHICH...just when you thought things couldnt get any weirder with katsuki, he just has to come into your life again. you find yourself even enjoying your time with him, there was no way you were catching feelings for him, right? you hated him! yet suddenly you get a text the next morning.

comments, likes & reblogs mean the world to me! 18+ — minors DNI.

CONTENT CONTAINS; semi-suggestive, swearing, princess used in a mocking way (or not?), katsukis prolly ooc, kinda corny.

WORD COUNT; 1.7k / a/n; read part one or this wont rlly make sense! I hope I met everybodys standards...

song rec; 'friends' chase atlantic

— all rights reserved © CATSUKKII 2024-2025. all fanfics & layouts belong to me. do not copy, translate, repost on tiktok or any other platform of the works seen here.

ever since that night you’ve avoided katsuki like the plague, embarrassed and quite frankly confused about everything that happened, how would this change your guys relationship, what would you do if your brother found out? you were sure he’d kill you and katsuki.

whenever he’d come over you’d go back to hiding in your room as if nothing had happened, katsuki absolutely hated this. anytime he’d yell through the door, or find you in the kitchen you would just ignore him, none of your stupid comments or bickering, just, silence.

“katsuki’s coming over.” your brother speaks from the dining table, scrolling aimlessly on his phone. “alright.” you reply kicking your legs off the coffee table, grabbing your phone and tucking it into your back pocket.

“wait.” he speaks, you sigh and turn around crossing your arms. “yes?” you say with sass dripping in your tone. “what happened with you and katsuki? because last time he had to babysit-” you cut him off quickly, “forcefully hang out.”

he rolls his eyes but plays along nonetheless. “forcefully hung out…you seemed to get along, you even hugged!” he exclaimed, you attempted to hide the grimace on your face at the reminder of that, and the stupid look on his face as he whispered ‘call me’.

“people change.” you speak and rush from the conversation, jogging up the stairs quickly as your brother stares and furrows his brows at you, but he ignores it. you and katsukis relationship had always been confusing to say the least.

-

”hey, sleeping beauty.” a knock at your door as katsuki's voice can be heard on the other side, you ignored him as always and continued reading your book peacefully. but he was being persistent this time.

“whats with the silent treatment princess?” another knock you ignore.

the door slowly opens. what the fuck? hes never opened the door?

“what the fuck? katsuki—go!” you leap off the bed throwing your book, caring less about your place in the novel at the moment. you rush to the door and weakly attempt to push him out, yet he barely budged from his large build.

“jeez, you hiding pornos in here or something?” he smirks at you coyly, partially over your weak attempts to push him and also the way you groan when he makes a sassy remark for the millionth time. ”you’re so annoying! why did you even come in here!” you whine and stop your honestly sad attempts at pushing him out of your room.

“Just me and you again, probably for an hour or two.” you lean your head forward and furrow your brows with a nasty scowl on your face.

“so get the fuck out my room and watch tv or something.” he puts his hands up in fake defense and bites his lip while that dumb smirk never leaves his face. “why so aggressive princess?” he slowly takes a step forward which causes you to step back.

“i thought we got over this little dispute after that movie, hm?” another step. “y’know, the one where you sat on my lap..” another step. he was taunting you. “we kissed.” his voice was low and deep, almost a whisper.

“you were practically grinding on me.” another step, you feel your back hit the wall as he corners you, you cant deny the blush creeping on to your cheeks.

“shut up katsuki…” you try to sound intimidating, yet it comes out more of a mumble. his muscled arms cage you in, you cant help but shy away from his gaze, you just wanted to melt into a puddle and die on spot.

he laughs menacingly at you, looking down with a dark glint in his eyes. “awe poor thing,” he faux pouts at you.

“quit avoiding me, princess.” he annunciates every word, leaning in closer, your noses practically touching. you can feel his hot breath against yours, your breathing is getting heavier at the tension.

“I’m not avoiding you.” you bite back, he only smirks wider; he loved that you could put up a fight. “I just dont like you.” he fake gasps at your words, removes his arms from their place on the wall near your head, crossing them over his chest.

“you love me.” he teases, you push him away to the best of your abilities. the tension, the teasing, the closeness of his hot breath against yours; it was slowly becoming to much.

“what do you want from me katsuki.” your tone is gruff, he hated and loved it, he loved that you would give him a challenge and put up a fight, but he also hated that you wouldnt just give in, the one time you did it got interrupted.

“cmon girl,” he starts with a sigh, “you know you want this just as bad as i do.” he steps closer and places his arms around your waist, you shy away from his gaze, yet you didnt move his arms.

“I dont know what you’re talking about.” you wiggle away from his grasp and pick your book up. “goddamnit— see you made me lose my place.” you mumble as you flip through the pages. he rolls his eyes at your nerdy behavior.

“alright nerd whatever..” he grumbles at you. “cmon lets watch a movie or something I’m bored as hell.” how could he be talking so casually after all this? you scoff as you continue flipping through the papers.

“that sucks.” he practically growls at you in frustration. “cmon I’ll do like, anything at this point.”

your face immediately lights up at his words, much to his dismay. he groans already regretting his decision in this.

-

“katsuki— stay still.” you swipe your makeup brush with blush all over it across his cheeks, katsuki was layed on your bed with a cute little bunny headband pushing his messy hair out of the way, with enough pushing and shoving you convinced him to let you do his makeup.

“this shit tickles.” you grab his chin and force him to look at you, but you quickly regretted your decision when he looked up at you with those lazy low lidded eyes. you gulped and continued your work glamorizing him.

“well beauty is pain.” you move on and continue your work dragging various products and brushes over his rough skin. “your skin is so rough..but oddly clear..do you do skincare?” he furrows his brows and his lips turn into a scowl as he gives you a mean side eye.

“no I dont do fucking skincare.” you cant help but giggle at his defensive nature over something so tiny such as skincare.

“jeez i was just asking! It’s nice, i wish my skin was clear like yours.” he snickers at your giggle aswell, but goes back to looking confused once you compare yourself to him.

“shut up, I like your skin.” you tsk at this and sarcastically breathe out a ‘yeah okay.’

“I’ll beat your ass, shut up.” you laugh at him and continue your finishing touches, you apply a sticky lipgloss to his lips and tell him to rub them together. you reach for the handheld mirror near you and show him his new face beautified.

“how do I take this shit off.” you gasp as he examines himself in the tiny mirror, “relax ill take it off with a makeup wipe…right after I get a photo of this.” you quickly reach for your phone as his eyes widen and he lunges at you, you’re cackling at this while trying to get out of his grasp as you both struggle for the phone, he cant help the laughs that escape his own lips.

he ends up giving up, even though he could easily overpower you. you take stupid 0.5 photos of him as he side eyes the phone, you’re belly laughing through all of this, a smile creeps on his face no matter how hard he tries to hide it. he only tolerates your dumb photos for a few minutes before slapping your phone and tackling you onto the bed.

“what the fuck— katsuki!” you squeal as he squeezes you with his large arms. “get this shit off me.” he muffles into your shoulder, biting the skin as you push him off you.

the rest of the night ended with giggles and stupid shenanigans and you hate to say it but you were seriously having fun. eventually, the fun came to an end as the front door creaks open, you and katsuki both walking down the stairs with a wide smile on your faces.

“see, I knew you two could get along!” your brother exclaims throwing his arms up in cheer, you and katsuki both roll your eyes at him and continue walking down the stairs.

“only cause he let me do his makeup.” katsuki spins around and glares at you, he quickly faces your brother and attempts to explain but your brother is already dying of laughter.

“listen its not like— okay, you can stop laughing— ALRIGHT.” your brother is doubled over laughing just at purely imagining that you somehow convinced katsuki to let you put your pretty glitters and products all on his face.

“I have to show you the photos!” you giggle with him striding down the stairs past katsuki. katsuki sighs but a snicker still falls from his lips, he walks down the stairs and greets your parents as they rant and rave about how ‘nice he is’.

you could care less in the moment though, as you had pulled your phone out to show your brother the stupid photos you got. although, eventually the laughter and chatter died down and katsuki was going home.

he bid everybody goodbye, hugging your parents and dabbing your brother up. stupid men. he spun around to you nonetheless and opened his arms, dragging your feet you let him wrap his beefy arms around you, practically squishing your head.

“I had fun.” you murmured into his chest, he hummed in agreement and let you go, not wanting to come off suspicious infront of your parents, but even more so to your brother.

he left, and you went back to your cave as always. you were lazily laying on your bed scrolling through stupid apps on your phone, you peacefully fell asleep with a smile on your face remembering the successful day.

the sun rose and shined through your window in the early morning, you yawned and lazily reached for ur phone as you rub the crust out of ur eyes.

ding!

oh?

katsuki texted you?

…well now what do u do?

a/n; ahaaa… (might start doing smaus and it totally doesn’t have anything to do with @/poemeater😁) also if I make a pt 3 do u whores want smut or js more fluff and dating

tags; @mollyrocks420 @aquasorb

[sinofwriting]

lover - Oscar Piastri

Words: 2,958 Summary: Press and fans find out during the Australian GP that Oscar isn’t single, in fact he is married. The more troubling part is the rest of the grid finding that out as well. Note(s)/Warning(s): Some drivers aren’t portrayed greatly in this, not because I don’t love them, but because they're a bit dumb and stupid. Some interesting thoughts about Lando and Max and Mclaren and Red Bull. Some angst. Logan is protective of Oscar and Oscar’s wife (his self proclaimed little sister). Slight NSFW at the end. Once again stating that I love all the drivers mentioned and written in this fic. (If anyone is interested in knowing more about my thoughts on the whole Lando, Mclaren, Max, Red Bull thing, send me an ask.)

Masterlist | Support Me! | lover verse

“Hey, Apples.” Oscar greets when he picks up the phone. “Os,” He frowns, stopping in his steps, ignoring how Lando is trying to wave him over for something. “What’s wrong?” She sighs, “You know how I said I wouldn’t get lost?” He breathes a sigh of relief that it's nothing serious, smiling again. “Lando’s trying to get my attention for something, but I’ll text Logan to get you. That okay?” “Yeah. I’ve missed our American boy.” Oscar scoffs, “you’ve missed him. I’ve had to deal with him.” She laughs, “Uh huh. I’ll let you go, but have fun talking to Lando. I’ll see you later, Os.” “Later, Apples.”

Ending the call, he quickly messages Logan. The message brief and he’s not surprised when the American driver sends back quickly a simple thumbs up.

“What’s up, Lando?” He asks, when he finally gets close enough to his teammate. “You’re married?” Oscar blinks at the British driver. This is what Lando had been waving him over for? Something he already knew. “Yeah. Have been.” His eyebrows press together. “Are you alright? Hit your head or something?” “No!” Lando shrieks, making him jump back. “You’re married. When did that happen?”

His shriek and loud words catch a few other drivers' attention and before Oscar can process it, he has Charles, George, Checo, Mick, and Lance also surrounding him, asking him if he’s really married.

The repeated question has him blinking widely, wondering if there’s something in the air that’s making them all have memory loss.

“Yes, I’m married. Why are you guys acting like this is new news?” “Non.” Charles says, eyes wide. “You can’t be married. You are a baby. Younger than Arthur.” He rolls his eyes at the words. “Fuck off, mate. I’m not a baby.” Charles pouts. “But you are so young to be married.” Oscar’s nose wrinkles at the words, lips pressing together. “Right.” He nods, holding back what he wants to say. “I don't know what to tell you guys. I’m married and I thought you guys knew.” George scoffs, “none of us had any idea. And twitter is going crazy, mate.” “What do you mean twitter? I’ve been married since I was eighteen. This isn’t a new thing.” “Eighteen!” Oscar nearly throws his hands in the air. “How did not one of you know? It’s public knowledge. Like all marriages.” He doesn’t mention the fact that he has definitely mentioned his wife in infront of all the drivers, they all obviously had trouble listening. Lando flushes, “I mean, you don’t really talk about yourself. So, I guess it just never got brought up?” He offers, though it feels a little weak and Lando can’t help but wonder if Oscar had mentioned it but he had just thought that it was a joke or had been tuning him out because it wasn’t team or race related.

“Late congratulations then Oscar. She is here, no?” Checo says. Oscar smiles at the older driver. It had felt odd that he had joined the rest of them, but it was clear he had joined because of the mention of another driver having a wife. They were few and far between. “Yeah, first race weekend this season.” “Give her my congratulations as well.” “I will.” He tells the older driver, watching as he leaves before turning his attention back to the other five.

“I’m private, but I’m not that private, you guys.” He says, and before one of them can say anything an American voice is speaking up from behind him. “Private about what?”

Logan eyes the five drivers surrounding Oscar, nearly cornering him. The girl next to him breath catches a little at the sight and he squeezes her a bit closer before dropping his arm from around her shoulder.

“Everything alright?” He asks, no one having answered his previous question. Oscar turns his head to throw him a grateful look before completely turning around seeing the girl beside him, a smile blooming across his face. “Logan find you okay?” He can see from the corner of his eye, her nod shyly, fidgeting under the stares of five complete strangers and Logan gives the girl he considers a little sister a light push to Oscar. Knowing that they’ll both feel better with some contact.

Logan turns his head to face her when she gives a light tug to his shirt and he easily tilts his head a little downwards to receive the kiss on the cheek she gives as silent thanks, trying not to smirk at the wide eyed looks the other drivers are giving him. He turns his head back to face them, when she joins Oscar, the youngest driver on the grid, easily wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close, though keeping her slightly tucked behind him.

“No one knew I was married.” Oscar tells him, answering his question from before. Logan’s eyebrows furrow. “What? It’s public knowledge.” He shrugs, “twitter is apparently going nuts. No one knew.” He then nods his head towards the five drivers in front of them. “Including other drivers.” He scoffs, “that’s a joke right?” None of them say anything and Logan can feel a simmer of anger starting in his gut. “Seriously. I’ve heard him mention her when all the drivers were around. Mark made a joke at the first race about him being married.”

No one of them say anything to that and Logan can feel his eyes narrow seeing Lando and George exchange a quick look.

It wasn’t necessarily surprising to hear that people on twitter were freaking out about it. It wasn’t something that first came up when you searched Oscar Piastri. But for not one of the drivers to know? Especially after hearing Oscar mention her? Mark make a joke about it? It rubbed him the wrong way.

He wondered if it was because when they all did a quick google on Oscar nothing about him being married came up. A combination of money buying a little privacy, though not enough to bury or hide a public marriage, and how private Oscar was as a person. He didn’t like talking about himself, was a little hard to make friends with unless effort was really put in or you were around him often enough. He also doubted that any of the drivers had really tried to get to know him due to the whole McLaren thing and the Alpine drama of last year. They only knew so much about Logan because everything was online about him, a problem with too much money, and he was willing to play into the whole about himself American persona.

It also makes him wonder if Oscar had been lying when he said that Lando and him were getting along. It was still early days, but for Lando not to know that Oscar was married? It spelled something that Logan didn’t like and the thought of Max not being the only teammate killer crosses his mind before he can stop it and he shakes his head. It was far too early for that and unfair to both Max and Lando. They weren’t the true issues or at least at the moment in Logan’s eyes Max wasn’t, their teams were.

Logan shakes his head at the silence from the other drivers still. He didn’t know what to say. Other than he wanted to tell them all to get their ears fucking checked. But he holds his tongue.

“Well now you guys know.” He tells them after another moment of silence. “This is Y/N, Oscar’s wife. And you already know all these guys.” She nods, giving them a small wave that Lance and Mick return before quickly walking away with quiet apologies. “You are a baby as well.” Charles says, eyes widening right after, clearly not having meant to say that. She looks at Oscar and then Logan. “I thought you guys said that Arthur was worse than him.” Logan laughs at the way Charles looks offended, mouth open in shock. “Charles has his moments.” Feeling a slight tug to his hoodie, Oscar gives a nod to his teammate and the other two drivers. “We have to get going. Talk to you tomorrow.” He tells them, before stepping away, knowing that Logan is following just barely not on their heels.

Logan and her both hang outside of the McLaren headquarters for the weekend, waiting for Oscar to come back from a quick talk with his race engineer.

“Lando.” She begins and she can feel Logan’s full attention on her. “Do I need to worry?” “Everyone likes him. He’s likable.” He tells her, trying to ignore what she’s getting at. Doesn’t want to think about the thought that popped into his head barely fifteen minutes ago. “Logan,” Her voice is a little harsh. “Do I need to worry about Oscar being teammates with him? We all saw what happened with Daniel at least with what the media said. And I’m grateful that McLaren gave Oscar one of his dreams. But do I need to worry that they will ruin him for Lando?” He can’t make his eyes meet hers, can’t when he can’t give her a sure answer. “I don’t know. Lando to McLaren is like Charles to Ferrari nearly, just not as predestined, I guess.” The words are sour sounding. “He still has good relationships with Daniel and Carlos.” “Max is called a teammate killer and he’s got a great relationship with Daniel. A fair one with Alex according to your texts. And we all know that it’s not him, but Red Bull that’s the killer.” He can’t help but glance around despite their whispers, wincing as she repeats his thought from earlier of Lando being perceived as a teammate killer. This really wasn’t the place to have this conversation, but he understood her need for some sort of answer. “I don’t know.” He repeats. “It’s still early. I want to say that McLaren will be fair to Oscar and treat him well, won’t treat him like a second class driver, but after them breaking a contract with Daniel.” He swallows harshly. “I don’t know.” And he hates that.

Getting into Formula 1, getting the chance that nearly all drivers dreamed of but only some got was supposed to be fun. Sure there was always going to be pressure and stress, but no one had warned him about the politics of it all.

“Okay,” she tells him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug and he can’t help but rest his head on her shoulder. Letting her bear his weight for a moment. “It’ll be okay Logan. And thank you.” “Of course.” He mumbles. And suddenly there’s another set of arms wrapping around him and her. He only doesn’t move or lift his head because he knows those arms and there’s an Australian accent in his ears.

“You alright, Logan?” He lifts his head to nod, not wanting to hurt her. “Yeah, just stress.” He squeezes them both a little tighter. “Can say that again.” Logan smirks, beginning to open his mouth but then a finger is poking between his ribs and he’s jumping out of the hug, rubbing at the spot with a pout. “Hey!” She shakes her head at him, pressing closer to Oscar as he presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Don’t get cheeky. You still coming to dinner with us?” Logan scoffs, “Of course. I’m not missing out on seeing Nicole and Chris.” “My parents will be there as well.” Logan throws his hands in the air, starting to walk backwards. “Why are we still here then?”

“Still missed him?” Oscar asks her as they start to follow him. She laughs at the dry but teasing tone. “Of course. He’s a great older brother.” “He is, isn’t he?” He has a put on suffering face, but there’s a fondness in his eyes as he looks ahead to where Logan is. “He is.”

“Is everything alright?” He asks, slowing their pace a bit more. She hesitates. “We’ll talk about it after dinner, but it should be.” His brows furrow at the response and he can’t help but squeeze her closer. “Are you okay?” “I’m all good, Os. Just worrying.” “Promise?” “Promise.”

—

“You’re worried.” He brings up nearly five hours later as they soak in the bath together, her back to his chest, his fingers interlaced, hands resting on her stomach and her hands resting on top of his. He can feel her breathing stutter and his heart clenches inside of his chest at the reaction. She had always been a bit of a worrier. He wasn’t exactly sure where she got it from, no siblings to inherit the trait from and her parents were fairly laid back. But this seemed different, more serious. “I had some thoughts about McLaren. I needed to talk to Logan about them. He had some of the same ones.” “Like?” She pauses, lips pressing together for a moment. “McLaren gave you your dream.” “One of my dreams.” He corrects her, picking up her left hand and pressing a kiss to her ring finger. Her wedding band and ring sitting on the bathroom counter instead of being where they belong. “One of your dreams.” She corrects. “They clearly favor Lando.” His hand and hers settling back where they were. “Lando’s an experienced driver, Apples.” he lets out a small laugh. “It’s only my first season. I’m a rookie.” “Oscar,” she turns slightly to look at him. “Daniel was a more experienced driver. He even got them their first win in how many years and look what they did to him?” He winces at the reminder. It would always slightly haunt him that the only reason he had a seat at McLaren is because they tossed Daniel like trash practically. Didn’t sit right with him and suddenly the solemness on her and Logan’s faces earlier made sense. “You two think they’ll do the same to me?” “I think that as long as Lando gives them some sort of positive result he’ll always be their number one. Even if you perform better.” He swallows at the words, because fuck it was looking like that wasn’t it?

Lando was a great driver, amazing, Oscar was thrilled to get to be his teammate and learn from him. But Daniel had pulled results from the McLaren, even if he hadn’t gotten as much as Lando did from it last season. It made no sense to get rid of an experienced driver or push him aside for a younger driver that would have years more left on the grid. And as he sits thinking about it, he’s reminded of how much last season McLaren put Lando first over Daniel, despite Daniel having a better chance or opportunity. Remembers some of the races he attended seeing Daniel’s frustrated, tired face as he got out of the car.

“You think Lando’s going to get called a teammate killer?” He knew her mind, knew it wasn’t a far stretch considering how Carlos was perceived at Ferrari and how Daniel wasn’t even racing this season. “I think that if people are willing to call Max one when Red Bull is clearly the problem, it’s a miracle that he hasn’t been called it already.” “Fuck.” He whispers, dropping his head to rest it on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.” She whispers and he lifts his head back up. “Don’t. We’re a team. This would have driven you mad keeping it to yourself.” It was a lot, but he was thankful it was being brought up now. Gave him more time. And god he’d have to bring it up with Mark. He could only imagine that the man would want to talk to her. Mark had always appreciated her thoughts and knew that they were a team. He didn’t just bring things to him, but to her as well.

“Charles doesn’t like me, I think.” Oscar can’t help but laugh. The tension that had filled the bathroom, leaving. “You did say that he was worse than Arthur.” “In that moment he was.” She defends and he presses a kiss to her cheek, still laughing. “Once he gets over being told he’s worse than Arthur, he’ll like you just fine.” “Think so?” “Know so.” He corrects. “Not many people dislike you, Apples.” “But you like me best.” She says, smiling. “Like you best and love you best. Love you so much.” He murmurs before pressing a series of kisses to her cheek making her giggle and then squealing when he manhandles her until she’s facing him, straddling him.

“Hi, Apples.” She beams at him and he can’t help but swallow at the brightness of her eyes. “Hi, Os.” “You ready for bed?” She lets out a little hum, wiggling her hips and his hands grasp at her waist, the lust that had started to simmer inside of him when he had turned her around growing at the pressure against his dick. “You have a race tomorrow.” “Is that a no?” “We haven’t had sex during a race weekend in over a year now. Don’t want you to be tired tomorrow.” “I’ll be alright.” He tells her, pressing her down a bit and can see the way her eyes dilate at the feeling of him growing hard underneath her. “Might even make me place higher.” “Well, only if you think it’ll make you place higher.” She teases and he can’t help but lean forward and kiss her.

She sighs into it, pressing closer to him, chests touching as he bites gently at her lip. “I’ve missed you.” She breathes when they separate, her eyes on the slight flushed face of her husband. “I’ve missed you too.”

---

Tagging: @ireadthensuetheauthors @copper-boom @lpab @gemofthenight @peachiicherries

[pupyuj]

→ “magic words.” || jang wonyoung x reader fic.

— what was supposed to be a simple tutoring session turns into something more when the most popular student in the campus, jang wonyoung, opts to teach you a completely different lesson...

word count: 4.7k.

dynamic: dom!mean girl!jang wonyoung x sub!nerd!virgin!reader.

content warnings: smut, praise kink, mommy kink, overstimulation, semi-exhibitionism, fingering, begging.

requested ? : nope.

a/n: this one has some sort of a plot so it takes a while to get to the smut part,, hope this one was okay! (jang wonyoung pls marry me.)

next: your colorful secrets.

jang wonyoung was late.

you didn’t know why you were even disappointed. what did you expect from someone with her social status? rich, popular, and a bit of a snob… which was why it was a surprise when you managed to convince her to help you study for an english project. you really didn’t know how you did it. when your professor had told you that being aided by someone who was near fluent in the language could help, the only person that came to mind was wonyoung. she studied abroad once, has the top grades in class, and still looked somewhat more approachable than aeri uchinaga (the other student that could’ve helped you).

or maybe it was just your big dumb crush on the campus princess that willed you to talk to her on that miraculous day, but that’s completely unrelated to your current dilemma.

after five more minutes of waiting, you started feel disheartened. what if she was just playing a joke on you? it’s not like wonyoung was an angel; you’ve heard horror stories about some of the fucked up shit she has done in her time in the campus and even before that. so there was definitely a possibility that she tricked you into believing that she was truly into the idea of spending time with who was essentially a nobody, like you.

ten minutes passed, now you were just really, really sad. but your pride was too big, you didn’t want to walk out of that room looking heartbroken. what if wonyoung and her douchebag friends were waiting on the other side to laugh at you? you shuddered at the idea. you already face so much humiliation and scrutiny from being different than everyone else in this school when really they should be all like you: hardworking, passionate, and actually try to give a fuck about their studies instead of just partying every weekend.

twenty minutes later, well — you were nearly passed out. you rested your head on your arms, blinking sleepily at the lights that you dimmed slightly earlier. you decided that you were going to take a short nap, and then you’ll get to work on your own. screw wonyoung and her joke promises. you were hoping that the rumors weren’t true, that people just made them up because they were jealous of her and her money, her brains, and that pretty little face and those beauty marks and those unnecessarily attractive slender fingers. but she really is just like everyone else.

needless to say, you fell asleep. and you don’t exactly know for how long, because when you were shaken awake by someone, your head was seemingly in another dimension. you lifted your head from your arms and yawned softly, earning a laugh from whoever it was that woke you up. you rubbed your eyes, blinked, and tried to identify the person standing by the side of your desk and— oh, shit.

“w-wonyoung?” you asked with your eyes wide, staring at the tall, gorgeous girl clad in expensive attire that smiled down at you. were you dreaming about her again?

“the one and only,” jang wonyoung takes off her jacket and folds it neatly, putting it on one of the unoccupied seats across the table. “i know i’m super late. i had to find a real reason to come here other than, you know, just for shits and giggles. you should thank gaeul-sunbae for talking some sense into me.” oh. she couldn’t have said that in a nicer way?

“okay…” you murmured, nervously picking on the lint on your clothes for no reason.

wonyoung settles herself beside you, sipping on a cup of iced coffee. she slides a full cup to your side of the table, “that should wake you up.”

“you didn’t have to get me one…” you replied timidly but accepting the cup nonetheless.

“oh, i didn’t. gaeul-sunbae got that for you and told me to give it to you because apparently, it was the least i could do for making you wait for over an hour. huh,” wonyoung puts down her cup, leaned back on her chair, and looked at you, smirking. you tried your hardest not to blush at the way her eyes completely raked over your figure. you shifted uncomfortably on your seat, suddenly finding your skirt too short or your uniform too tight. “maybe she has a crush on you. ha! well, that’s quite a jump. from that hot soccer captain in that other university, ahn yujin-ssi, to you.” wonyoung giggles.

god, really? you held back the urge to groan, or roll your eyes, and just smiled awkwardly at her. you were seriously regretting having that dumb crush on her. she was pretty, but her mouth and the things that come out of it made it hard to truly like her.

“i doubt that…” you said, picking up your pen and opening up a novel. the very same novel you had a hard time understanding, and the very same novel that you hoped wonyoung would help you understand but that didn’t seem likely now. seeing that all she wants to do is insult you.

wonyoung doesn’t say anything else, merely fishing out her phone from her bag and silently scrolling up, completely forgetting the reason she was here in the first place. you sighed, tired eyes skimming through the words in your novel. every single word you read just went over your head, and you really hoped wonyoung would notice how helpless you looked but she was… well, she was taking photos of herself. you took your eyes off your novel to do nothing but stare at her. truthfully, you would also drop everything to take photos of yourself if you were wonyoung because she did look particularly good in this day.

“why do you even need me? you’re supposed to be super smart. aren’t you on scholarship at this school?” wonyoung suddenly asked while still posing. you flinched, immediately turning back on your novel in hopes that wonyoung wouldn’t know that you have been staring this entire time. 

(she did. but whatever. everybody stares at her.)

“t-that’s exactly why i need you, though,” you said. wonyoung chuckles. you blushed at what your words may have implied. “i want to keep that scholarship, but i-i’m not that very good at english and you’re… you’re great so i thought you could help…”

wonyoung closes her phone and puts it down, “well, aren’t you adorable. i kinda get why gaeul-sunbae is obsessed with you. don’t tell her i said that.” were you some kind of inside joke between her and gaeul or something? you doubted that the popular senior actually gave a damn about you, so maybe wonyoung was just pulling words out of her perfectly fine ass.

you really needed to stop talking like that.

“don’t start crying now. i’ll help.” wonyoung brings her chair closer to yours. maybe a bit too close for your liking, but her perfume calmed your senses so you appreciated the lack of respectable distance nonetheless. she takes your novel from your hands and without a word, she examines it. the front cover, the back, the first few pages, and the chapter you were reading. you watched intently as she did her work, and you couldn’t hold back squirming in your seat because of course jang wonyoung looks fucking hot when she starts taking things seriously.

her eyes flicker back onto yours and she catches you staring. you didn’t even make an effort to look away. it was too late anyway. wonyoung wordlessly stared back at you, eyes completely devoid of emotion so you couldn’t tell whether she was annoyed of you for staring or not.

“this isn’t what we’re studying in class.” wonyoung said.

“n-no. i’m reading it for myself. i want to write a thesis on it.”

“a what? so, you’re saying you’re doing this for fun? you have that much time?” wonyoung looks at you in disbelief. she puts down your book, almost offended at this reveal.

“that’s how i study. if i can’t prove to myself that i understand whatever i’m doing then i pretty much failed at that subject.” you confessed.

wonyoung groans, throwing her head back. you stared shamelessly at the curve of her neck, and had this sudden urge to kiss her. what the fuck. “i thought you were going to write a dissertation with how you made this whole thing sound so urgent yesterday. turns out it’s just a cute little project, and for yourself! you’re wasting my time, you know.” the tall girl said.

again, you felt sad. you grabbed the book from her side of the table and pouted as you looked at the cover, “w-well, you’re free to leave if that’s what you think…”

“you won’t cry?” wonyoung asked. you took note of the teasing evident in her voice and rolled your eyes.

“why would i—”

you looked at her and found your words getting stuck to your throat. it was weird, because wonyoung was literally just sitting there and yet she looked so… there's really no other way to put it in your lovesick little head. wonyoung looked regal. arms crossed, sly smile, eyes shining with mischief, and one long leg crossed over the other, hiking up her skirt just a little. you immediately looked away, but you were too late. wonyoung knew exactly where you were looking at.

“oh, i see,” wonyoung giggles and leaned forward, propping her arm up on the table and putting her chin on her palm. you avoided her stare, but you couldn't hide your red ears. “gaeul-sunbae’s gonna be really disappointed to hear about this.”

“please, stop with that. gaeul-sunbaenim is not interested in me.” you say in an attempt to divert her attention.

well, much to your dismay, wonyoung wouldn’t let up just like that. she completely disregards what you were saying. “i guess you’re kinda cute. in an almost pitiful way.” she says, eyes examining your features way too intently. “intelligent, decent, and you don’t dress that bad…” the tall girl continues on, taking note of the accessories you have on your wrists, neck, and hair.

you really didn’t know if she expected you to thank her.

“i’d say innocent too, but that's not all true, is it?” wonyoung moves closer, her perfume once again wafting into your nose and nearly intoxicating you. she places a pretty hand on your thigh, smirking at the way you flinched and hid behind your book. “since i’ve lost interest in whatever you actually want to do, how about we do something that’s actually worth my time?” she says, prying your book off of your hands and putting it on the table.

“i-i can’t skip classes. i was serious when i told you that i want to keep my scholarship—”

“don’t worry. you won’t be stepping a foot outside of your beloved school for this activity.”

see, there were a lot of things that you didn’t believe were true in the world. one of them being your brother allegedly not being free earlier this morning to give you a ride to school because he had something important to do, when you knew he just wanted to play video games until he had to leave for his classes. and now, you have something you can add on the list: jang wonyoung kissing you.

you were waiting to be woken up again, convinced that this was all just a very detailed and prolonged dream. but wonyoung bites your lower lip and nothing happens. other than you moaning softly, obviously.

“i knew you’d like this.” wonyoung mutters before grabbing you by your necktie and pulling you closer. her tongue tasted like coffee, mint, and peaches, and her lips were so, so soft. you were on cloud nine; how many people can say their totally unattainable crush kissed them first?

still, despite liking wonyoung’s lips and the warm feeling on your chest, you couldn’t help but gasp and move away once her hand squeezed your breast.

“what?” wonyoung asked, a bit annoyed.

“w-what are you doing?” you asked back, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“...trying to fuck you? i don’t understand what was so misleading about my intent there.” wonyoung says, looking at you like you were the crazy one.

“how is sex so casual to you and your friends…?” you mumbled. you said all that but the thought of wonyoung touching you like that made you feel certain things in your lower region that you really did not want to know about. or maybe you did, but you were just terrified.

wonyoung, utterly confused, quirked up an eyebrow. “why wouldn’t it be to you? wait,” the tall girl takes another second to look at your bright red cheeks, and the way you squeezed your thighs together presumably to calm that feeling in your core. and then she laughs. “of fucking course, you’re a virgin.”

having your crush find out that you haven’t been touched all your life and laugh at your face about it was not in your bingo card.

“that’s putting it lightly… you’re even my first kiss.” you admitted. you absentmindedly touched your lips with your fingers, smiling as you remembered the way wonyoung’s felt when she had been kissing you.

the tall girl stares at you, there was a softer look in her eyes that made you melt. “ugh, you really are fucking cute. you’re making me feel really bad about poking fun at you earlier.” (and that was definitely new. jang wonyoung never feels bad.)

you shrugged, simply accepting that that was her personality, as brutally honest as she was. you started packing up your things half-heartedly after minutes of silence. a part of you was mad at yourself for cutting off that kiss earlier. maybe you would still be kissing wonyoung right now if you hadn’t stopped her, or maybe you’d be doing something more.

“where are you going?” wonyoung asked, looking up at you since you were now standing.

you pulled at your uniform, “y-you said this was a waste of your time so… i think i’ll just study on my own. t-thank you, though. for the coffee and… that other thing.”

just as you made a step towards the door, wonyoung stands up and catches your wrist in a tight grip. “you’re killing me, (y/n).” wonyoung muttered. she pulls you close, which causes you to drop your bag to the ground and nearly crash into her.

“because you’ve somehow managed to make me feel soft inside, you’re getting laid.”

“i’m getting what—”

“i’m gonna fuck you, (y/n). seriously, what era are you from?”

and with that, wonyoung kisses you again. she wasn’t as gentle as before. her hands were on your hair, tugging and pulling. you didn’t know where to put your hands exactly, but wonyoung noticed this somehow took one of your hands with her own and placed it on her hip. you tried to keep up with her as much as you could, not at all aware of how messy you really were with the way you kissed.

unsurprisingly, wonyoung was annoyed at this and pulled away, “this isn’t a slobbering competition. can you calm down?” she says.

“i can’t. i really like you—”

“fuck. you’re pathetic.” she kisses you again, and you really didn’t know if you should have felt insulted or flattered. a part of you wanted to see how far you could go, this was a once in a lifetime kind of thing after all, so this time around you actually tried kissing her better. wonyoung moves, she’s got your lower back pressed against the desk and her hands on either side of you while you hold her face. she lets you control the kiss, smiling slightly since she found you so, so endearing.

wonyoung sneaks a leg in between your thighs and presses her knee against your buzzing core, making you moan into her mouth. she takes off your school-issued blazer and throws it mindlessly in some unknown corner, then she takes your necktie and slowly tugs you towards the small couch in the room, all while keeping her lips on yours. she unfortunately breaks the kiss and sat down on the soft cushion, leaving you standing in front of her, confused and out of breath.

wonyoung leans back on the couch, smirking, “come on, baby. give me a show.”

you didn’t know what she meant, and you were too afraid of turning her off by asking. but by the way she licked her lips as her eyes scanned you up and down, you just did the next best thing you could’ve thought of doing. you pulled off your necktie and you must’ve done something right because wonyoung’s smirk only widened, urging you to continue on undressing yourself. next, you started unbuttoning your white shirt, revealing your silky cream-colored bra. and finally, you pulled off your panties, just so you wouldn’t have a hard time doing it later.

wonyoung was more of an open book than you expected because it was quite easy to tell that she really like what she was seeing.

patting her lap, wonyoung beckons you over, “sit.” she said. you let your shirt fall to the floor and did as you were told, settling yourself on the taller girl’s lap. you shuddered at the feeling of her thigh against your bare cunt, and fought the urge to ride her.

“it’s always the quiet and nerdy girls like you, hm? hiding all of this behind a book and some straight A’s…” wonyoung’s pretty hands explore your body; from your back, your chest, your stomach, and to your thighs. she enjoyed the way you shivered and slightly moved yourself, desperate for some friction in that area. she plants a small kiss on your collarbone before smiling up at you and attacking your neck. she sneaks a hand underneath your skirt and palms your dripping pussy, her long fingers parting your folds and her thumb just barely brushing your clit.

your soft moans filled the air as wonyoung marks you up. she favored your chest, leaving hickies all over it. she leans back, staring at her work proudly. you took her face in your hands, tilting her head up slightly and then putting your lips on hers. you could feel her smiling as she kissed you back. she found your enthusiasm entertaining, but she was glad she wouldn’t have to do all the work. you boldly pushed your tongue past her parted lips, bravely exploring her mouth. your heart starts beating erratically upon hearing wonyoung’s muffled moans. her voice was so pretty.

suddenly, wonyoung inserts a finger knuckle deep inside you, making you gasp into her mouth and pull away from her lips. the tall girl laughed, “that caught you off guard?” as if she wasn’t looking directly at your widened eyes and gaping mouth. wonyoung pulls her single finger out slowly and pushes it back in, watching as your face contorted from the tiniest bit of pain you were feeling.

“one more?” she asks, but she doesn’t give you a chance to reply and goes ahead and inserts a second finger, making you whine and hug her. wonyoung giggles against your chest as she quickens her pace, relishing in the feeling of her fingers smoothly going in and out of you. the pain was quick to go away, and soon enough you only felt pleasure.

“you’re so tight, baby,” wonyoung wraps her free arm around your waist to keep you steady. she curls her fingers inside you and you moan loudly in her ear. “i’m glad i got to you first. i guarantee you nobody else can fuck a pretty little thing like you as good as i can.”

wonyoung looks up, staring at your features while you try to keep yourself as quiet as you can. the walls weren’t soundproof after all, and the librarian could very well just open the door and invite herself in to check on the students occupying the room. upon realizing this, you threw a quick glance at the door, worried out of your mind. wonyoung notices and gives you a kiss on the cheek to grab your attention, and she was successful.

“nobody will care. plus, you’re with me. you’ll be fine,” she said. she holds onto your waist tighter as she moves her fingers even faster. you clutched onto her shirt, biting your lip but unsuccessfully holding your moans back. “be as loud as you want, baby. let this whole school know who’s fucking you.”

wonyoung couldn’t even begin to tell you how turned on she was right now. you were falling apart before her eyes, the prim and proper (y/n) (l/n) being reduced to this… and knowing that it was all for her… wonyoung doesn’t know if she could hold herself back from completely ruining you on the spot.

“mmhn… ahh— mommy..! mommyy…”

well, shit.

wonyoung was pleasantly surprised. she chuckles, “what? say that again, love.”

you shook your head, embarrassed. “it… it just—fuck—it just slipped out.. i’m sorry…”

wonyoung presses her thumb on your clit and rubs it roughly, “say it.” you whined loudly. that felt too good.

blinded by pleasure, you fulfill wonyoung’s wish. “m-mommy… mommy, ruin me, please…!” you started moving your hips, meeting wonyoung’s thrusts and somehow it made everything feel better by about a hundred percent.

wonyoung was considerably happy. “good girl. can you take one more?” again, she asks but she doesn’t wait for you to answer. now three of her long fingers were inside you, just completely pounding into you mercilessly. the tall girl watched as you basically fucked yourself into her hand. shit, she could cum by the sight of you alone. you were even more beautiful when you were a mess… wonyoung has to fuck you more after this.

“this is a better look for you… none of that honor student bullshit. don’t you like being fucked stupid like this?” wonyoung says, once again curling her fingers and smirking as you throw your head back in pleasure.

you managed to choke out an answer. “yes, mommy… i do, i do…”

never in your life did you ever expect to be calling your crush, the untouchable jang wonyoung no less, such a nickname and even more so, getting fucked by her in a semi-public setting! you were sure to get weird looks from people who might be outside, and the news will spread like wildfire of course but you didn’t care for any of that. not right now, at least. because why else would you think of anything but the girl who was taking you to the stars?

“feels good, yeah? want more, baby?” wonyoung was saying. she herself was getting her panties soaked the faster you were riding her fingers, but she was going to have to take care of her own problem later. she couldn’t take her eyes off of you, after all.

“mmhn.. more…”

wonyoung clicks her tongue, “magic words.” she brings her hand down to your ass, making you whine.

you immediately comply — you were chasing after something that was unknown to you, but you desperately wanted it. and you knew only wonyoung can help you get there. “p-please, mommy… i want more…” you said, looking directly into wonyoung’s eyes and watching as her pink and plump pillowy-soft lips spread into a satisfied smile.

“mhm. you learn quickly, don’t you? what a good girl.”

fucking hell. did everything that came out of her mouth have to sound so hot?

as promised, wonyoung gives you ‘more’. she shifts herself slightly up on her seat, holds your waist in a death grip and whispers, “put your arms around me.” then, she pulls her long fingers out almost all the way before plunging their full length back inside you, deeper than it has ever gone. the sound that left your mouth loud, dirty, and wonyoung could hear the pain beneath all pleasure. 

she repeats her action, and you finally understood why she told you to hold onto her because holy fuck you were going to fall off her lap. you wrapped your arms around wonyoung’s neck and held her close, screaming into her ear every time she brushes past your sweet spot.

“w-wony.. wonyoung— mommy..! i feel weird… i feel weird, i feel weird…!!”

“shh, shh, it’s okay. it’s supposed to feel like that,” wonyoung starts kissing up your neck again, stopping directly under your jawline and leaving another hickey there. “you’re doing so good, baby. we’re almost done. just hold on for mommy, ‘kay?” she pats your ass, gently rubbing on it to ease the sting that her slap left earlier.

you shook your head, “i c-can’t… stop, stop… please..!” you were feeling too many things at once. you wanted whatever this was all leading up to but it was overwhelming. you wanted it to be over but you wanted to prove something to wonyoung, as if ‘holding on’ for longer like she asked would get you a medal from her or something.

“okay, okay… let go, then. it’s okay…”

wonyoung hits a spot and unexpectedly, the pressure in your stomach tightens and breaks in a second. your entire body stiffened as you came undone on wonyoung’s hand with a long, loud moan mixed with a sob. wonyoung shushes you gently, using her free hand to caress your back. she pulls out her other hand from your cunt, it was completely drenched with your juices.

you leaned back after getting a hold of yourself, albeit only a little, and watched as wonyoung licked her fingers. fuck. what you would give to engrave that moment in your mind.

“feeling alright?” wonyoung asked, brushing your damp hair away from your face with her dry hand. you looked exhausted and fucked out. it was hot. wonyoung’s core was throbbing like crazy. she wanted to get off to you so bad. you nodded weakly at her question, even though you didn’t look and feel ‘okay’. you were feeling a lot of fucking things, that’s what.

“t-thank you…” you said suddenly.

wonyoung tilts her head to the side, “for what?” seriously, you were so cute. with your flushed cheeks, eyes glistening with tears, and hair a big mess.

“...you know what for.” you mumbled, hiding your face in the crook of her neck. wonyoung laughs—music to your ears—and pulls you close by your waist, hugging you and kissing your bare shoulder.

the two of you stayed like that for a while, neither of you saying anything for god knows how long. you would ocassionally lift your head and wonyoung would kiss you, then softly asking if you were okay, or if you needed anything. sometimes, she just looked at you, tugging at your heartstrings and making you wonder just what she was thinking. (‘how come i have never seen you before?’)

eventually, however, it was time for both of you to leave as you had some actual studying to do and wonyoung, well, she has a party to attend. typical.

“hey, i’m giving you my number.” wonyoung says when you finally managed to make yourself look tidy and somewhat presentable. you knew that hickies were all over your neck, but you were too tired to lose your head over them.

“uh, why?” you asked, reluctantly pulling out your phone but not handing it over just yet.

“oh, no reason. i give my number away for free. it’s a thing i do.” wonyoung replies in an exaggerated tone. she snatches your phone from your hands, rolling her eyes at your apparently ridiculous question. her actions reminded you that yes, wonyoung will always be a snob through and through. even after giving you the best fuck of your life.

“ha ha.” you laughed sarcastically. you barely caught your phone when wonyoung mindlessly dropped it on your hands in retaliation. you weren’t going to lie though, having your crush put her number on your phone was a dream come true. you looked at your screen, ready to send wonyoung a quick message so she can save your number when you noticed the name she gave herself.

mommy💘

before you could say anything, wonyoung puts a single finger on your lips and winks, “call me when you need ‘help’ again, baby.”

[cherriegyuu]

Willow | 02

pairing: seungcheol x fem!reader genre: angst, marriage of convenience word count: 5.2k summary: seungcheol always knew that he was going to marry you, but things only get harder once he does (or in which seungcheol is just really dumb and doesn't know how to show his feelings)

part one | part two | part three (final) | drabble

Seungcheol functioned like clockwork. 

Every day he woke up at the exact same time, his alarm was obnoxiously loud — especially considering how much of a light sleeper he was —, showered, cocked the same breakfast, and left the apartment precisely at 7:45.

You don’t remember him being that punctual but your best guess was that grown-up Seungcheol took his life and responsibilities much more seriously than teenage him. And he probably had a lot on his plate too. He was set to take over the firm once his dad retired, something that wouldn’t happen any time soon, but it always felt like something he was being prepared for it. 

And being honest, you couldn’t say that you knew this version of Seungcheol, not really. He was hot and cold with you, mostly cold, so it was hard to know where you stood in your relationship with him. 

Truth was, that had a lot to do with you as well. You weren’t trying to make things easier for the two of you, if anything it felt like you were trying your best to make it as hard as possible — even if that wasn’t your intention at all. 

While your husband was always perfectly on time, you were always running around late for every single appointment you could ever make. People from work already knew that if there was a student scheduled for 10:00h, you’d probably get there a little later. It really wasn’t on purpose, you tried your best to be on time, even tried to follow along with Seungcheol’s agenda. But it never worked out. So instead of being on time and having everything ready, all it did was make you nervous and even more late.

You also didn’t follow a schedule for your day. Every day, on your way home, you made a little detour, never failing in finding a new place to go or a different restaurant to try. 

At the end of the day, you and Seungcheol lived separate lives, barely talking to each other, or even acknowledging each other. Most of it was just niceties because both of you felt the need to do so. It would have felt even more awkward to walk past each other in the hallway and don’t even say good morning. Anyone who looked at the two of you would think that you were just roommates, not actually married. Hell, not even friends. 

If anything, the house arrangement contract you wrote made things even worse — if that was even possible.   

After signing it, with a look of complete disbelief on his face, Seungcheol went to his room. His words “my own wife is telling me that she wants to date other men while saying that I should date other women” still rang in your head. You didn’t mean for it to sound like that, you didn’t want to push him to do anything at all. Your only thought was that since the marriage was fake, there was no love between you, there was no reason for you to be stuck to each other and live completely without happiness. 

There wasn’t anything either of you could do in that regard, there was no way of canceling or ending the marriage, so all you wanted to do was give him a way to find something that could bring him a little bit of joy. If said joy came in the shape of another woman, then so be it.

After that, you never talked again. And he barely showed any emotion at all around you, no reaction. He didn’t complain or seemed fazed when you almost let the dirty water you used to clean your brushes fall on his desk and ruin, well, everything. He still followed the rules you created, almost religiously. Whenever he cooked, he made enough for you, if he was the one doing laundry he was careful not to damage any of your clothes. 

Living like that felt oddly lonely. 

You were used to being by yourself, having your own space. The last time you shared an apartment with someone, or more specifically, a room, was when you were still in college with Yeda. But the thought of living with someone else but never actually seeing them… 

You thought that once you were married you would have someone to share your life with, even if that someone turned out to be Seungcheol. Naively, you figured that all of those years of your childhood spent together — even if those were also forced on both of you —, would play a part in making sure that cohabitation was a possibility. 

We could still try to be friends, was what you told yourself.

Because your husband wasn't all that bad, to begin with. You might not see eye to eye on many things but you knew that he was a good person. You had hoped that, maybe, living in the same place, seeing each other every day, would change something about your relationship with him. And in a way, it did. It just wasn't what you expected. Instead of growing closer, you couldn’t be further apart. 

You glanced at your phone again, the bright numbers seemed to be mocking you. 

It was past 3 am and there was still no sign of Seungcheol. When 9 pm rolled around you assumed he had stayed at the office a little bit longer, finishing up whatever it was. Then 9 became midnight and staying in bed wasn’t something you could stand anymore so you moved to the living room, a book and a blanket in hand. But reading too was hard, the words were all floating around in your mind and none of it actually made any sense. Your mind was too focused on the fact that Seungcheol wasn't home yet to focus on the story.

Another hour went by and there was still no sign of him. The world outside the apartment was quiet and no car could be heard on the street.

The truth was that you were worried about him. There were little bells inside your mind telling you that something must have happened to him because that just wasn’t Seungcheol. It wasn’t him when he was young and it also wasn’t him as an adult. He wasn’t the kind of person who would disappear without telling anyone, so you were sure that there was someone who knew where he was. 

The most obvious choice would be to call him and it would have been a great plan if you had his number at all. 

The realization that you knew nothing at all about your husband made a sickening feeling slowly spread through your body.

It was so stupid to not have his number and it made absolutely no sense because he was your husband. Even if you were a fake wife, shouldn’t you at least be able to communicate with him if needed? Sometimes people have emergencies that couldn’t wait for their significant other to get home — or in your case never get home at all.

Option number two was to go through the things in his office. He should have at least a business card or something, anything at all, with a phone number. You thought about calling your parents or even his parents. How would you explain that even though you kept telling them that everything was fine, that things were finally falling into place, you didn’t have your husband's number? And never mind knowing someone who worked with him. Seokmin, what that his name? Seokmin probably knew where Seungcheol was but then again, there was no way to reach him either. 

You stood up to cross the room, your blanket and book both forgotten on the couch when you heard the sound of keys being put in the lock and a second later the door was pushed open. 

Seungcheol stood precariously on his legs, an arm over Seokmin’s shoulders, while the younger one tried his best to stop his friend from falling face-first on the floor. 

“Cheol” you breathed in relief and rushed towards him, your hands reached for his cheeks, forcing him to look at you “Cheol…”

He opened his eyes for a second and a drunken smile, or at least an attempt at a smile.

“Ah, wife! Precisely who I wanted to see” his words were slurred, almost in sync with his body as it swayed from side to side. 

Seungcheol stepped away from Seokmin and dropped all of his weight onto you. Your arms immediately circled his waist as you bent your knees a little, trying to hold him up.

"Sorry," Seokmin said as he tried to pull Seungcheol from you "I've never seen him get this drunk before, I didn't think it possible"

Neither did you, but then again there was a lot about Seungcheol that you didn't know. 

"It's fine" you moved your feet back until you felt the couch behind your knees and with Seokmin's help you were able to get Seungcheol to sit "Thank you for bringing him home"

Seokmin smiled at you, tightly. He wanted to say more but he knew that if he did he would be butting in your relationship with Seungcheol and his friend would probably give him hell for it. Drunk Seungcheol was a problem — in the form of a cute lovesick oversized puppy, as he has recently discovered —, but sober Seungcheol would bite his head off without as much as a warning.

"I should have brought him home earlier, before he drank himself stupid"

You shook your head and pushed the hair out of Seungcheol’s forehead. You couldn't even bring yourself to be mad at him, not really. Before he got home you felt this pain in your stomach, telling you that there was something incredibly wrong, that he was in some kind of trouble. But the only real trouble was the fact he had, as Seokmin said, drank himself stupid.

"Honestly, it's okay. I'm just glad he's home safe. Again, thank you for that"

 "I wish I could say it was no trouble" he laughed lightly "Do you need help with anything?"

You shook your head.

"I got it from here"

Seokmin opened the door and let himself out. He stopped for a second as if remembering something and reached for the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out a business card. He didn't say anything as put it by your keyes.

You realized then that he knew. Seokmin knew about your relationship with Seungcheol, or lack of it. He just smiled and closed the door. You stayed frozen in place, looking at the door, as if somehow it would grant you answers.

Though you had told Yeda the true nature of your marriage, you never expected Seungcheol to do the same and to Seokmin, of all people. Not that you really knew him but just based on his interaction with Seungcheol on your wedding day, Seokmin was the last person you would expect to know the truth.

"y/n," Seungcheol said and you turned to him, "I think I want to throw up"

His warning was almost too late, there was no time to get him to the bathroom or for you to get him a bucket, but just enough for him to grab on the flower vase in front of the couch. You turned away from him, knowing that the smell of vomit wouldn't bother you, but seeing him throw up actually would. 

"I'm really sorry"

It had been so long since you last heard him talk like that, almost childlike. The Seungcheol you knew liked to pose as this big, bad guy, but in reality, he was more of a softy that got things done. He could pout for days if he wanted.

Not only did he sound childlike, but he also looked like a child that messed up. His eyes were almost helpless as he looked at the floor, then his shoes, and finally his suit jacket. 

"Don't worry about it" You reached a hand for him. His eyes focused on your hand, almost mesmerized, before his long fingers wrapped around yours "Let's get you cleaned up and ready for bed"

You helped him off his jacket and held both of his hands as he allowed you to pull him up from the couch. He pushed his shoes off once you reached the hall leading up to his room. This time, instead of putting all of his weight on you, Seungcheol used the wall to steady himself, still his arm was around your shoulder and he leaned a little towards you. 

You wanted to ask him what happened, what made him want to drink so much. More than anything you wanted to know why he didn't warn you in advance.

Over the four months that you lived together, though there was no real interaction between the two of you, Seungcheol always found ways to talk to you. At first, there was a yellow post-it stuck to your door. They were simple notes. I made breakfast, or dinner with your parents tonight, I'll pick you up at 7. And sometimes they were more caring, those, you came to realize, were always blue. Do you still hate spinach? just in case, i didn't add any or let me know if there's anything you want to eat and even i canceled dinner tonight with my mom, you looked tired last night, you should rest this weekend. 

He always made sure to tell you if he was going to be late, always. So not knowing where he was… you hated it.

Seungcheol didn't complain when you pushed him down on the mattress and undid his tie, later moving on to his shirt and then using it to clean his mouth

You didn't realize but Seungcheol's eyes were on you the entire time. Despite the alcohol, his mind was hyper-aware of your finger touching his skin, on the way you kept biting your lips as if doing your best to hold back from cussing him out.

"Can you shower on your own?" Seuncheol made a noise that you could only translate as a no "Do you want to brush your teeth?"

You probably already knew the answer to that too but still had to ask. His eyes were almost closed and he stayed sitting by some sort of miracle. 

"I don't think I should stand up again" You nodded at him and turned around, you could at least get him to use some mouthwash before he fell asleep and maybe get him to drink a glass of water, but he held your hand and lightly pulled you back — not in a forcible way, just to get your attention "I don't like it when you make that face"

His voice was so quiet, barely above a whisper.

"It's the same face you did on our wedding day, when you walked down the aisle. You looked so pretty but sad, and angry too. Why were you so angry?"

You looked at his eyes for a second before looking away. They were all too demanding, wanting more than you were willing to give him. Your wedding day, believe it or not, wasn't a day you thought about too often and when you did think about it felt like years had gone by. The night you decided to suggest the contract was the one you thought of more often, with much more sadness. 

"I wasn't angry" 

Your voice was quiet as pulled the duvet for him to get under. In silence, Seungcheol removed his pants and laid down. He let go of your hand for only a second before holding it again.

"I was scared and worried, like today. You were gone for a really long time and I didn't know where you were. I couldn't even call you"

Having those thoughts around your mind was so different from actually saying them out loud, saying them to Seungcheol. If the night taught you one thing was that you didn't know anything at all about your husband. Everything you thought you knew was wrong. But if you could make a guess, judging by the way his eyes seemed to be a little more focused and his words a little less slurred, it was probably okay to say that he was sobering up. Maybe throwing up was all he needed.

"Our marriage is just so weird. My wife told me to sleep with other people" he laughed and pulled his hand away, closing his eyes "It's almost like we're friends with benefits but without the friendship part nor the benefits. We're just a piece of paper. If you think about it, we're nothing really"

Tomorrow, you suddenly promised yourself, tomorrow will be different and we will start this all over again.

The second he said yes to drinking with Seokmin, Seungcheol knew that he would regret it. The first time he went to a bar with the younger one, Seuncheol told him all about his fake marriage. So, of course, the second time couldn't be much different. He regretted it for more reasons than he cared to admit. 

The entire night he behaved like a pubescent thirteen year old complaining about the fact that his crush didn't like him back. He was stupid enough to tell Seokmin all about the contract you came up with, to which his friend laughed hysterically. Because you must be the shitties husband in the history of the world if your wife has already given up on you like this.

And if that was what you thought of him, if you saw him as the worst husband in the history of the world, could he blame you? On your wedding way, that is known to be a day that everyone remembers, he was a complete idiot to you. No excuse he could ever come up with would be good enough. Because, truth be told, his behavior then had been inexcusable. In your shoes, he would have probably done much worse. You had shown him mercy. 

And kept showing him mercy, even after months of him being silent and barely being in the apartment. He used work as an excuse often to get him out of situations in his daily life. He never thought that he would use it as a way to stay clear of you. 

Because Seungcheol did work a lot but he also knew how to take time off. His job was important and his clients too were important, but he learned that he should have time to himself. and now that he was married, he needed to have time for you too. Even if it was just to stay home with you. He should have done that but instead, he found ways to be at the office until later than he usually did, took clients that he normally wouldn’t, and did the most stupid thing of all: went to a bar with Seokmin.

And the worse part of it all was that he remembered every single thing that he did the night before. He wished he was one of those people who get drunk and just forget about all the embarrassing things they did. But he wasn’t. 

Seungcheol remembered being carried home by Seokmin, who again was having too much fun laughing at him, he remembers throwing up, the way you held on to him. But more than anything he remembers the way you said his name, Cheol, ever so quietly, when he walked in, the way your eyes searched his face as if looking for anything that could be wrong with him — other than being drunk.

He hated that he talked about being friends with you while he was drunk. Hated that you didn’t get to hear him while he was sober because he had prepared a whole speech for you, almost as if he was going to court and needed to plead his case.

He had plans to talk to you and maybe that was why he went out with Seokmin, to get his friend to push in the direction he wanted to go. Because truth be told, Seungcheol was scared. 

For over ten years of his life, he knew that he would marry you. So had time to think about it, and ponder on every possibility that could happen. Because he had been in love with you for longer than that, but not once he was allowed to act on his feelings. At first, it was because of your brother, then because of himself, and then finally when you closed a door on his face — metaphorically speaking. 

And when he finally had a chance to do so, he fucked up. There was no other way to say it. The two of you were already married, so what was the worst thing that could happen? For you to reject him? That was already happening. 

He hated that he lost the chance to charm you from the get-go. And then again for months. He couldn’t miss the chance yet again.

Seungcheol pushed himself up on his elbows, tentatively opening his eyes. He expected the room to be filled with light but he was surprised to see that the only source of it came from the half opened door. He never closed his blinds before going to bed, he never felt the need to as he usually got up as soon as the sun was up, and he certainly hadn’t closed them the night before going to bed. 

However, no amount of darkness could make him look past you, sleeping in a weird position in the armchair in front of his bed.

Seungcheol, who was usually a light sleeper, had no idea that you came into his room a couple of times during the night until you finally convinced yourself that it was okay for you to sleep in there because you were too afraid that we would throw up during the night; he had no idea that you got up in the middle of the night to pull the duvet over his body.

He knew nothing about those things, yet he felt overwhelmed at the sight of you.

For a second he wanted nothing more than to stay sitting there and just watch you. As creepy as it might be, it was the first time he felt like the two of you were more than just two people who shared the same apartment. 

He could only hope that the night before had changed something for you too, because now there was no way he would just let things go back to how they were. 

You were worried about Seuncheol. Had been the entire day. You woke up to the sound of the shower running and the sight of his empty bed in front of you. You left as soon as you woke up, deciding that he was probably way too hungover to want to talk to you then. 

So instead of staying at home, wondering when it would be a good time talk to talk to him, you went out. There was nothing for you to do, no place to go and Yeda already had plans with her boyfriend so she couldn’t meet you. 

You indulged yourself, going to the mall and getting a few new brushes and paint — not that you needed anything, but a mind filled with weird thoughts and a credit card with more limit than necessary could be the ruin of someone. But going there was somewhat of a bad idea, considering how many couples there were around. 

All of them looked in love, happy to be around each other. You couldn’t help but wonder if it could be the same for you and Seungcheol. If you had talked to him in the months leading up to the wedding, would things be different now? If he hadn’t been a complete idiot on your wedding day, would things be different?

There were many answers to those questions, but none of them would matter. There was no way to go back to the past, to redo things. So all you had was the present, as it was, and a chance to change everything. 

On your wedding day, your dad told you that he didn’t love your mother when they got married. He said that the love he felt for her was built over the years they stayed together. And you wanted to try that. 

Because you never really believe in love at first sight, the idea of it was just too irrational for you. You believed that curiosity, attraction, lust, and enchantment could all be feelings that are awoken in someone at first sight. But love? That was a complicated feeling, that no three seconds look ever give you. 

Because you wanted a love that was constantly warm. Too hot or too cold would burn you all the same. You didn’t want a relationship that was all over the place, with too many ups and downs. 

And maybe, Seungcheol could that someone for you. 

You had been standing in front of Seungcheol’s room for the past five minutes, building up the courage no knock on his door, had already raised your hand twice but was yet to finally do it. Seungcheol’s drunker words mirrored your thoughts, so you had to talk to him.

You took a deep breath before you forced your fingers to tap lightly against his door. You didn’t wait for his answer and stuck your head inside. 

He was sitting on his bed, a book open over his chest while he scrolled through his phone. That was a scene you had seen many times while you were a teenager. It was easy to remember an 18-year-old Seungcheol lying on the couch, in that exact position. 

“Seungcheol?” he looked at you surprised, he hadn’t heard you knock on his door “Come out, let’s have dinner”.

Without a word, Seungcheol followed you to the kitchen. His surprised eyes were focused on the food on the table. He clearly remembered you telling him that you didn’t cook, your mom said the same thing too.

“You cooked?” he sounded a little nervous, as if unsure that he should be asking.

He looked cute, you decided then. There was this childish look in his eyes, half in wonder, half in expectancy. 

Seungcheol was waiting for something to go wrong again. The last time you had gotten him dinner was the night everything went to shit. What if this time you told him that you wanted a divorce because of the shit he pulled the night before? He was honestly ready to beg you not to do that. 

“No, I got it on the way home” you waved a hand and he laughed and you felt your cheeks get warm “Are you feeling better? I left before we could talk”

He smiled and nodded at you, looking at the food in front of him. There was nothing special about it, it was something that he could have cooked, but still, his heart did a little flip inside his chest. 

“I’m sorry about last night. I swear I don’t drink like that all the time. Or at all” his own cheeks got hot “I’m sorry you had to clean up after me”

“It’s fine, really. Yeda was my roommate in college and I wish she would throw up in a vase. I think I cleaned that dorm more than anyone else that used it before or after us”

Yeda was a good friend, but she took the idea of being the life of the party a little too far sometimes. That alone was the reason you found yourself going back to your parents' house almost every weekend. You had convinced yourself that the two-hour drive was worth it, if it meant that you didn’t have to clean vomit again. 

The two of you eat in silence as you tried to find a good way to start a conversation with him. Why was it so hard? You had no trouble talking with him when you were teenagers. Sure, there was a lot of bickering but that was still better than nothing at all. 

“Is everything okay with you? You’re not eating” he said quietly. the food in front of him was almost gone while yours had barely been touched “You don’t like the food?”

You shook your head and set down your fork. 

“I’m a little nervous, so it’s hard to eat” he didn’t need to ask to know what you were nervous about “Can we talk, please?”

In silence, the two of you put the dishes away and the food leftovers on the fridge. There was no way either of you would keep eating so it was better not to waste any time.

Seungcheol’s mind was running a thousand miles an hour. He was certain, 100%, that would you ask for a divorce. He knew that you couldn’t do it. The rational part of his brain told him that it wasn’t an option at all. But the irrational side? It didn’t care. All the worse possible scenarios were playing in his mind. 

The first one, as he expected, would be for you to ask for a divorce; the second one would be you telling him that there was someone in your life, someone you were in love with. 

That thought alone was enough to make his heart ache. You being in love with someone else was too much for him. 

“Oh my god! Will you stop looking at me like that? I'm not going to bite your head off! I want to talk with my husband. Millions of people do that every day. I'm sure millions of people are probably doing that right now”

He smiled then. That was exactly how remembered you, that was the you he wanted to see the most on your wedding day, when he talked shit and you talked right back at him. Because there was no way that he would get to have the last word in a conversation like that. 

And it was also the first time you addressed him as your husband, at least in front of him. The first time you said it out loud. 

But in that moment you confused his feelings for fear when all that he felt was some sort of joy. How borderline pathetic was it that he felt happy over the simple fact that his wife acknowledged his existence?

“The things you said last night… I agree with them. Our marriage won't last very long, we won't last very long, if we continue this way. We will be broken beyond repair if we don't do something right now. So we have to change, we have to, at the very least, be friends but we will never get there if we keep going this way”

That wasn't exactly what you wanted to say but you hoped that Seungcheol would understand, wished that he would read into your sloppy and messy words. He was a lawyer, after all, it was what he did for a living. Right?

“Let's go out once a week then, sort of like a date? But not really” you shook your hand and covered your face, you felt like a teenager asking the guy you had a crush on a date “Just so we can get used to each other again, be friends and all that”

Seungcheol pressed his lips, trying his best to suppress the smiles that threatened to take over his entire face. With a short nod and shake of hands, you and Seungcheol settled down on another agreement.

taglist: @belladaises @minghaossv @lol6sposts @weebotakuboy @alifethatsonlyonthepage @donquixotesvt @dearlosver @dearxia @yogurttea @royal9 @desibrownie @feat-sun @itsveronicaxxx @soonyoonswoo @matchahyuck

requests are open

[issi-loves-dannyric]

You Belong With Me- Ollie Bearman

a/n: I'm a year older than Ollie so that's why I wrote it. One day this will be taken down as will all my other writings but at least not for a while. (personal choice cause yk work and everything) -Im tagging this as F1 since he's signed to Haas.

Summary: best friends to lovers, Ollie is too dumb to realize he's in love

angst ish with fluff

Dreaming about the day when you wake up and find

That what you’re looking for has been here the whole time

“She’s coming to a race” excitedly says to me while we walk in the paddock. 

“That's great!” I say faking enthusiasm, if he weren’t distracted by the girl he’s talking to he would’ve caught that I wasn’t happy. 

“I think I’m going to ask her out on a real date” he adds making my heart hurt a little more. 

“Yeah, that’s great. Hey, I’m going to go see some friends.” I say turning towards where Paul was standing on his phone. 

“Yeah-“ he says but is cut off by another message. Rolling my eyes I make my way towards the blonde. Feeling my presence coming up to him he looks up from his phone smiling. 

“Don’t see much of you without Ollie” he says smirking and opens his arms for a hug which I accept immediately. 

“Yeah he wouldn’t shut up about the girl he’s talking to  so figured might as well see some friends”

“Oh yeah, he talks about her all the time. I’ve met her before and she’s kinda…” he trails off

“A bitch”

“I didn’t say it but I’m not disagreeing” putting his hands up in defense. 

“No yeah, she definitely is a bitch and doesn’t like me.”

“Probably cause you and Ollie have a history” 

“He’s my best friend, of course, there’s history”

“Yeah…” before he could add anything Kimi and Dino were joining us making Paul drop the topic. 

2 months later

I remember you driving to my house in the middle of the night-

“Ollie, what are you doing” I call out my window looking down at the boy who had spammed me to open my window. 

“I’ve barely heard from you for the past 2 months” he replies looking hurt. 

“Yeah…sorry” the last part being quiet.

“Are we going to talk like this or are you going to let me in?” He asks, sighing I push myself away going down to let him in quietly as possible. 

“Ollie it’s midnight” I whisper as we go towards my room door, allowing him to walk in before me to shut it. 

“I know but since when did it matter?” He replies lowly with a small tentative smile. 

“Since it’s been months from the last time you came over late or even had a full conversation,” I reply turning away, sitting on my bed. 

“Yeah” I could just barely hear, “just…I don’t know” he sighed staring at his feet. Looking at his face he’s trying to figure out what to say or do. 

“Something’s wrong” I state, patting the bed, “come here” making him look up at me. 

“I think she’s cheating on me, she’s just so different from me” he sighs referring to his girlfriend who has hated me for a while now. 

“Do you have proof?” I ask, although we don’t get along, she doesn’t deserve to be accused of something she didn’t do. 

“Kind of, I guess. Just she’s messaging her ex still, I think she went out with him today. Well, I know she did because of the photos.”

“Damn Ollie, that sucks,” I say looking down at my hands in my lap. “Are you going to do something about it?” I question 

“I’m going to confront her and see where it goes.” 

“Smart move” I replied looking up at him who was still avoiding eye contact. “Is there more?” Watching him fidget with the sleeves of his hoodie. 

“I’m sorry for not being around” he quietly voice breaking a little. 

“It's fine, you were busy with your new life.” I reply not meaning to be petty but he did ghost me, his “best friend”. He finally looked up at me with glossy eyes, “Don’t worry, I’m proud of you no matter what” smiling softly at him even with my own eyes feeling pricks of tears. Reaching out to his face I wipe his tears away with the hoodie holding his cheeks. Putting his hand on mine, keeping me from letting go of him, “I don’t want to lose you, I feel like I already did” sobbed holding my hand even tighter. Moving my hand to him, leaning on the pillow behind me. 

I’m the one that makes you laugh when you know you’re 'bout to cry. 

“I’m not leaving, at least not all the way” feeling him hold onto me even tighter, “I’ll always support you, Ollie. You can always text or call me if you need to.” I tell him while running my fingers through his hair, feeling my tears sliding down my face. “You can’t get rid of me that easily, Bearman,” I say trying to lighten the mood, earning a small chuckle from him. Pulling out of my hold, wiping his tears, “I should probably go before my parents realize I'm not there” He says getting up towards the door. 

“Yeah, I’ll lock the door behind you so mine don’t think I just left the house open for robbers,” I say with a small smile. 

“I mean it, you can text or call me anytime, you know I will try my best to answer.” I remind him at the door. 

“I‘ll remember,” he says pulling me into one last tight hug. 

All this time how could you not know

Looking down at my phone I just got a notification,

Ollie: I was right, she just admitted it and didn’t think she was wrong since I travel. 

Sighing I respond 

��I’m sorry you had to go through that, Ollie. At least you found out now.’ 

Going back to whatever movie was playing on the living room TV. My parents are off on a date meaning I get to have the house to myself, although it’s not as fun as it seems when you’re alone. My phone's insistent vibration distracts me, realizing that a call vibration I pick it up not glancing at the caller. 

“Hello”

“Hey…” Ollie’s voice comes through barely, “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want anything to do with me anymore really. I just miss you so much and this situation made me realize something.” He quickly lets out. 

“Ollie I never said I didn’t want to be in your life at all.” I reason

“Are you home?” He says sniffling. 

“Yeah, parents are out” 

“I need to come over” 

“Okay,” I reply quietly before hanging up.  

You belong with me. Have you ever thought, just maybe you belong with me?

Ollie's knocks were loud and fast making me get out faster walking to the door. The second I open the door, he puts his hand on my cheeks. 

“I want to kiss you” he mumbles leaning down slightly from the height difference. “Can I?” He breaths out 

“Yeah,” I say feeling heat on my cheeks now but quickly distracted by his lips on mine. Kissing him back I put my hands on the back of his neck pulling him closer.

Letting go realizing he’s rebounding, “What was that, Ollie?” I ask genuinely confused. 

“I’m sorry, I love you and it took that relationship for me to realize it.” 

“Still confused” 

“She said the reason she didn’t see the issue of her cheating was because I was in love with you the whole time. I thought she was crazy until I realized I compared her to you. Like the things you knew I liked or how you went out of your way to make me happy.” He paused putting one hand on my cheek again forcing me to look him in the eyes, “She’s right, I do love you more than just my best friend.” He finishes 

“Ollie” I whisper shocked by what he explained to me. 

“Please just give me a chance” he replied 

“I can’t be your rebound, Ollie. My feelings for you are real and I don’t want to be hurt.” I warn him. 

“You’re not a rebound I promise,” he says seriously. 

“Okay,” I reply causing him to smile slightly. 

“Okay?” 

“Prove you will try, Ollie,” I tell him, he lets out a breathy laugh before pressing his lips to mine. Accepting the kiss quickly but I pull away making him confused. “As much as I would like to kiss you in my front doorway so my whole neighborhood could see. I also have a movie playing so are you coming in or what?” I tell him, smiling widely, he accepts my invitation following me to sit on the couch. Curling up into him like we used to do, this time there’s no feeling of confusion about whether he likes me or not. 

You belong with me

“You know you’ve watched this hundreds of times.” He states referring to Coraline playing. 

“Yeah, and I’ll watch it a hundred more times.” I smile looking up at him. Pulling my face closer he started to kiss me again, this time I didn’t stop it, or at least for a moment until realizing I could hear my parents coming in through the garage. Letting go I shift to have my head on his chest with my right arm wrapped around his stomach. 

“Hey Ollie” they calmly say walking by us before going towards the stairs, “Oh hey try not to kiss in front of the whole neighborhood next time.” Before going up. Making me giggle remembering the cameras that watch the front door. 

“I forgot about the cameras,” he says embarrassed. 

“Yeah…me too” I added. 

[peachesyeo]

The Cherry Club - Part One

word count - 1.7k pairings - dpr ian x bm x mingyu x jungkook x mingi x fem!reader genre - mature, smut, slight crack(?) chapter warnings - dom!dprian, dom!bm, switch!mingyu, switch!jungkook, switch!reader, switch!mingi, noona kink (mingixreader), safe sex (hey wear condoms pls), exhibitionism, breeding kink, reverse cowgirl, doggy position, cockwarming, polyamory implied, mxm action implied, porn with little plot ig.

author's notes - for @sousydive, my baby. i'm sorry that i'm late ): and there’s a part two… I’m going off for my internship so here’s something… I PROMISE ILL UPDATE 1117 JUST GIVE ME ANOTHER 20 YEARS… ILL NEVER ACCEPT SMUT REQUESTS EVER AGAIN

back to masterlist? (svt) back to masterlist? (atz)

“I bet I can make you cum from just my fingers.”

You groaned, covering your face with your fingers as a very drunk Jungkook straddled a very drunk Mingyu, wagging his index finger in his face. Next to you, BM let out a bark of laughter, while Mingi, whose head is in your lap, is already half-gone from the alcohol, his entire face red. 

“The fuck you mean? Yah, I bet I can make you cum untouched!” Mingyu hollered back, pushing Jungkook off him and straddled the latter instead, pulling his collar roughly. Christian leaned back into the couch, watching the two 97 men bicker with an air of interest. 

The six of you were gathered at Christian’s house, sitting in a circle in his living room while drinking alcohol. No matter how busy the six of you are, you all would find time to drink with each other at least once every two weeks. And it’s Christian’s turn to host the drinking session this week. 

You had no idea how the topic of the conversation changed from work, life to sex - well, this cycle always repeats every session. You wouldn’t even be surprised if Mingyu and Jungkook starts fucking on the floor now.

“You weren’t so cocky sucking my dick last session!” Jungkook suddenly gained strength, knocking Mingyu off him. The poor man screeched, his head knocking into BM’s knee. You laughed as the two groaned, one rubbing his head and the other, his knee. 

“For the record, you didn’t last very long, too, Kook.” Christian pointed out, where Mingyu’s eyes widened. He clapped his hands, shooting a smug smirk at Jungkook. “See? Even hyung said so. I can just lick a fat stripe up your balls and you’ll be cumming in no time-”

At this point, you just want to cut your ears off. “Just start fucking and get out of here already?” You pointed out, pouring another shot down your throat. Mingi stirred slightly at your words, his eyes clouded with sleepiness and confusion. “W-what? Who’s fucking?” 

“No one, Mingi-ah, are you sure you don’t want to go up to the guest bedroom?” Christian said quickly, meeting your eyes. You blushed, as Mingi sat up groggily, his hair sprouting up in all directions. 

“Nah. I wanna stay and watch the fucking.” Christian coughed, choking on his whiskey. BM had forgotten the pain in his knee and started laughing hysterically, while Mingyu and Jungkook only had eyes for each other, slipping into their own world. 

“Really? At least I don’t just cum untouched from watching Matthew hyung rail Y/n!”

It’s your turn to choke on your drink. The fiery whiskey splattered all over your shirt and collar at Jungkook’s words.

“You can’t just drag me into your rivalry shit, you fucking dumb bunny!” You yelled indignantly, crawling over Mingi to pull at Jungkook’s ears. You could feel his hands wrapping around your waist, his fingers drawing circles on your hips as you pinch Jungkook’s cheeks. “You two can suck each other off all you want!”

“Speaking of railing Y/n,” everyone turned to look at Christian, whose eyes were on you. “Who here fucks you the best, Y/n-ah?”

Silence. You gulped, sensing danger from his words. The stares from the five men in the room were dark and intense, and you couldn’t help but feel turned on. “That’s… That’s not fair-”

“Of course I fuck her the best.” You let out a moan when you feel something brushed against your clothed clit. You have no idea when, but Mingi’s fingers have already slipped under your fairly modest skirt, his grip on your waist strong. “Right, noona?”

The temperature around you seems to rise. A finger gripped your chin, and you looked up to see Jungkook gazing down at you, the smell of his cologne filling your nose. “No, I fucked you the best, don’t I, Y/n-ah?” He questioned, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips. “Come on, just tell the truth.”

“Why don’t we all fuck Y/n once, and let her crown the winner?” Christian suggested, his voice hoarse with want and need. Your pink tongue darted out to lick at your dry red lips, and you placed your palm on Jungkook’s thighs, supporting yourself. 

“Why not, Sir?”

Oh, you’ve done it. You hear a giggle from Mingi, as your eyes land on Christian. He raised a brow at you, a vein popping in his neck.“Very well, Y/n-ah,” he said slowly, getting up. You slapped Jungkook's hand off you and struggled to get up from Mingi's lap, but the youngest of the group had a strong grip on you. "Since you asked for it, rather rudely, I shall give you what you want."

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-" "Can't hold on anymore longer?" "I'm fucking sensitive, you dickhead!" "Come on, noona, squeeze him a little tighter." "Song Mingi, I swear, fuck off!"

You let out a loud moan of Jungkook's name as BM rubbed your clit, muttering encouraging phrases like 'Go on, Queen, milk him dry' or 'Kookie is near, you can do it' while leaving red hickeys all over your neck.

Jungkook was laying on the bed right under you, holding down your wrist to either side of him as he thrusted upwards, bickering with Mingi and Mingyu as he did so. Christian sat the furthest away, watching the show while palming himself.

"We're not holding a competition to who lasts the longest, gentlemen," BM straightened his back up, ignoring your whine at the loss of stimulation to your clit. "It's who fucks Y/n the best."

In reply to his words, Jungkook heaved a particularly hard thrust upwards. You whine, feeling a poke at the gentle curve of your cervix. "Ju-Jung-ah!"

"Not gonna l-last long, princess." Jungkook warned, letting go of your wrists. Mingi sighed, looking at the both of you dreamily. "Noona, you look like a Queen impaled on her dick throne."

His words caused snorts of laughter around the room. You made a noise of laughter and moan, as Jungkook had flipped you around on his member, his hips suddenly jerking upwards at a fast pace. You squeaked, clenching around him involuntarily. “And it’s a… fuck… dick t-throne made of gold.” Jungkook’s voice cracked as he came with a groan. You have already come once, and with a rub of your clit, you came again, panting as you fell on top of Jungkook’s chest.

“Get out, it’s my turn.” Mingyu said eagerly as Jungkook pulled out of you, pulling off his condom while giving you a deep kiss. Mingyu scowled, getting on top of the both of you and pulled you off Jungkook, who rolled off the bed while giving Mingyu his middle finger. Mingyu muttered a curse under his breath as he speared into you at one go. The both of you sighed as he slid in, fitting snugly in you.

“You ready, my Queen?” You hear Mingyu teased behind you, and you reply to him with a simple squeeze. Mingyu’s groan caused laughter from the spectators, especially from Jungkook. You smirk in victory, only to freeze when Mingyu bites on your shoulder as his hips begin to move.

If Jungkook’s thrusts were slow and romantical, Mingyu’s were just animalistic. He jerks in and out of you at high speed, leaving you to moan and drool helplessly as your head sinks into the pillow before you. Mingyu’s breathy moans came from behind you, his whispers driving you insane along with the thrusts of his lips. “I’m going to fill you up, Y/n-ah,” he moans, his cock pushing in and out of you at lightning speed. “Full of my cum. Leave you limping around Christian hyung’s hallways dripping.” He nips along your earlobe as he thrusts hard, his grip around your waist so tight that you are sure that it is going to bruise. “Don’t you like that, Y/n-ah? Round and full of my babies?”

There was a loud smack and Mingyu yelped. His grip on your waist loosen and his tempo stumbled for a moment. BM had smacked Mingyu’s ass cheeks, scowling. “You don’t get to knock Y/n up before Christian hyung or I do, Gyu-ah.” He said, his eyes staring into yours. “Be a good puppy and keep fucking.”

“It’s just dirty talk, hyung!” Mingyu huffed, resuming his insane pace. “You stimulated Y/n when Jungkook was railing her-”

He groaned again, feeling you squeezing him. “Shut u-up and fuck me!” You hissed, your hands reaching back to pinch at Mingyu’s waist. Mingyu pouted and stopped talking, and soon the sound of skin on skin reverberated throughout the room.

You pushed your face into the sheets, your moans stifled by the silky material. Your fingers grabbed desperately onto the pillow, before something pried them off. You looked up to see Mingi smiling sweetly at you, his fingers hooked within yours.

“She's trembling.” BM said somewhere from your left. The dirty mutters from Mingyu paused, and his hips jerked faster. Soon, the dam in you collapsed, and your elbows gave away. Mingyu was still moving, and you weakly shook your head. “No… Please…”

“Go finish off somewhere.” BM slapped Mingyu’s ass again, rolling a condom on himself and the younger pouted. “It's not my fault I last longer than a certain someone.”

“Fuck you!” Jungkook yelled as Mingyu pulled up. BM flipped me around, chucking as my dazed eyes followed his form. “It's only been three orgasms, and you have three people left, Y/n-ah.”

“Unless noona can take both at the same time.” Your heart thumped as Mingi spoke, playing with your fingers. His gaze was dark and predatory, matching BM’s as he looked right at you. “Can't you, noona?”

Before you can speak, Christian spoke. “Of course she can take it. But it's still an individual competition.”

“I-” You wanted to protest, but BM gently pulled you upwards. Pressing a light kiss onto your lips, he gently sank you onto his hard member. “You asked for this, Y/n-ah. Remember?”

You whined, looking right at Christian. The both of you held gazes, until the older man sighed. “Alright, just take a little break.”

You smell triumphantly as someone moves behind you — Mingi — and draws a line down your spine. You sat there, cockwamring BM, as he gave you time to recover.

Mingyu was still jerking himself off, bickering with Jungkook from time to time. You buried your face into BM’s chest, as Mingi’s finger slid down slowly right in between your ass. A gasp escaped you as he teased the part that connects you and BM. “Mingi-“

“Don’t worry, noona,” you hear him whisper, goosebumps rising. “We’re going to have a very, very long night.”

permanent taglist (ateez) - @watermelon2319 @levishun permanent taglist - @sousydive @yeodeulz @oddracha @jaerisdiction @yukichan67

@evidive @onysmamas @hoeforalbedo @fantasy2wonderland @epiclegend19

©peachesyeo, 2024

i do not own the dividers nor pictures used in banner. all credit goes to their original owners.

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 24

So, it pains me to say that there is only one more chapter after this. Yep. Just the one. But I have an epilogue all written up and a sequel partially written up. So you won't have dwell in sadness for long.

In this we have a wild Dustin appearing, Ellie be awesome, another asshole reporter shows up, and Gareth and Eddie finally have it out.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23

~

The Fallen were holed up in their trailer, Ellie showing off her fix for the hoods. She held up a small fan and battery pack.

“Since the hoods cover most of the neck,” she explained, “this will go on a collar that you can turn on and off, and even change the speed. This will help keep you cool so you don’t faint again.”

Spence took the fan from her. “That’s genius. How did you come up with that?”

“I convinced my dad to go as the Red Guardian with me to New York Comic Con a couple of years ago. I was dressed as Yelena from ‘Black Widow’ ,” she said with a grin. “But as you guys know leather is hot so we put a couple of these bad boys in the neck of the costume to keep him cool.”

“That’s amazing,” Shane breathed. “I mean the fans are neat, too, I guess.”

She giggled. “The blonde wig I wore wasn’t very fun, but the rest of it was.”

“Thanks, Ellie,” Steve said. “How long will it take you put them together for us?”

She cocked her head to the side. “About twenty minutes.”

They piled out of the trailer to find Dustin arguing with Eddie.

“I keep telling you,” Eddie huffed. “I don’t know who they are and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you! I don’t even know how you got past security in the first place.”

“I showed them pictures of us from your Instagram.”

Eddie pressed his fingers into his eye in frustration. “Dustin...” he said warningly. “You can’t do that.”

“I just did,” he said smugly, crossing his arms and grinning at him.

“You are such a butthead,” Steve groused. “How are you even here in the first place? Don’t you have school?”

Dustin shrugged. “You’re touring in California right now, it’s not that hard to drive up here for the weekend.”

“Dustin,” Steve said, pinching the side of his nose. “It’s Tuesday!”

He pulled out his phone and looked at the date. “Huh. Oops.” He put it away. “Well, I’m here now. No use crying over spilled milk.”

Eddie surged forward to strangle him, but Steve stopped him.

“Why are you here?” Steve asked sternly.

Dustin’s shoulders slumped. “All right, I was feeling a little lonely. Mike and Will graduated last year and they moved back to Hawkins to figure out where they want to go from there. And Lucas and Max are on the other side of the country. I missed you guys.”

Eddie and Steve shared a glance over his head and sighed.

“I know, bud,” Steve murmured, putting his arm around him, “but you’ve got school if you want to make it into MIT.”

Dustin sighed. He was a late bloomer, college wise, because it took a lot of convincing Mrs. Henderson to let him go. She was really worried about him on his own. It wasn’t until Steve moved out to California that she was willing to let him go.

“It was a dumb idea,” he admitted. “I just wanted to see you guys.”

Just then the trailer door opened and Ellie stepped out. Dustin’s jaw dropped. Eddie lifted his his chin with his finger.

“Oh hey, Steve,” she said, “I have the cooling collars for the band, can you make sure they get them before they go on tonight?” She held out the four devices and Steve took them.

“I sure will,” he replied. “Dustin this Ellie Hopper, she designed The Fallen’s costumes this year and her dad is head of security.”

Dustin reached out to shake her hand which she took with a small smile.

“Ellie,” Steve continued, “this Dustin Henderson. I used to watch him and his friends when they were snot-nosed kids.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Dustin said with his winning smile.

“Same.”

“I was just about to bug these two into lunch,” Dustin said. “Care to join us?”

Steve and Eddie glared at him.

“I’d love to!” Ellie said brightly.

And now Eddie and Steve were caught. They had to go now, because it’d be rude to turn down the person that made the costumes for The Fallen.

So they all went out to lunch, but they had to be back for the sound checks.

“I don’t know hwy you have to be there,” Dustin whined. “You’re only a medic, it’s not as though you’re a rockstar, too.”

“Because I’m the medic for the band,” Steve huffed. “If something goes wrong at the sound check I have to be there.”

“Can we watch the sound check together?” he asked hopefully.

“Why don’t you take Ellie around,” Eddie suggested. “She’s never been this far north in Cali.”

Ellie immediately agreed and Eddie and Steve breathed a sigh of relief.

As they were walking off, Eddie got a text message and he grinned, hurriedly typing back.

“You cheating on your lover over there, Munson,” Steve teased.

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “It’s just Chrissy. You know, the lesbian?”

Steve grinned wolfishly as they got into the car that would take them back to the venue.

~

A week later Corroded Coffin were doing their own press conference when some reporter from a gossip rag dropped a bombshell.

“A question for Eddie Munson.”

“Shoot.”

“What do you say to the rumors that you have a secret lover on this tour?”

The room went dead silent except the clicking of camera shutters going off.

“Do you want to repeat that?” Jeff growled into his mic.

She repeated the question with a smug expression.

“I wasn’t aware there was one,” Eddie hedged. “And all questions about my sex life are off limits.”

“Are you worried that with your past exploits on previous tours that this man will be labeled as just another notch in your bedpost and you’re trying to protect him from that?” she continued as if she hadn’t heard him.

“You heard the man,” Brian hissed. “He doesn’t want to talk about his sex life.”

“What about the rumors that you are fucking the frontman to The Fallen?” she asked a little louder as the other reporters started shouting their own questions.

“Unless your sucking my dick, you don’t get to know about my sex life!” Eddie snapped. He stood up and walked out.

Chrissy walked up to the front of the room, putting herself between the other band members and the now pressing throng of reporters.

“This press conference is now over.”

The woman who had started it all, crossed her legs and smirked at the chaos all around her.

~

Steve watched the YouTube video of the press conference over and over. Those same forty-seven seconds over and over again.

Who was the leak? Who told? Was it just speculation because that’s how Eddie usually played it on tours? Or was it something more sinister?

He decided if nothing else, he should at least go check on Eddie to see how he was doing.

He walked up to the door of Eddie’s hotel suite, but the door was partially ajar.

“Oh I get it now,” Eddie was saying. “The call is coming from inside the house.”

“You’re blaming me?!” Gareth cried.

“Oh yeah,” Eddie hissed. “This has you written all over it.”

“I’m on your side!”

“You’ve always been jealous of Steve,” Eddie snapped, “and now that we’re a couple, you couldn’t take it and went to the press.”

“I wouldn’t do that!” Gareth pleaded. “I know said some fucked up things last year. But I’ve been in therapy for that shit and I know it’s unhealthy. I don’t know who leaked it to the press, but it wasn’t me.” There was a brief pause. “Here, check my phone. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

There was silence for a long, tense moment so Steve took the liberty of the pause to knock on the door.

Chrissy went to go open it and saw Steve. With a single look she knew he’d overheard at least some their exchange. She winced and mouthed, ‘I’m sorry’.

“Come on in, Steve,” she said, opening the door wide enough to let him in. “Vickie’s on her way and will be here in about twenty minutes.”

Steve nodded and walked up to Eddie. “Hey,” he asked leaning down to look him in the eye, “are you okay?”

Eddie’s lips quivered as he nodded. He was still going through all of Gareth’s messages, DMs, and social media posts.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered to Gareth.

Gareth hugged him fiercely and Eddie hugged back. Soon they were both crying.

“I’m sorry I blamed Steve for everything wrong in the band,” Gareth murmured. “I was just scared he’d take you away from me.”

Steve snorted. “Dude, I would need a fucking crowbar to remove Eddie from you guys’ lives. He loves you like brothers. I’m not here to get in the way of that. Okay?”

“Yeah, man,” Brian said, “families grow and change, that doesn’t mean we don’t still love each other.”

Gareth nodded into Eddie’s neck.

“And I’m sorry I accused you without evidence,” he muttered back, “Uncle Wayne would kick my ass if he found out I did that.”

“I won’t tell,” Gareth said softly, “if you won’t.”

“Deal.”

They stood like that for awhile, just holding each other and muttering apologies.

Vickie came barreling into the room like a bull in a china shop.

“Fucking hell!” she growled and threw herself onto the sofa like a Victorian maiden. “That was such bullshit.”

They all turned to her, Chrissy closing the door tightly behind her to make sure no one in the hall could hear them.

“It was a completely unsubstantiated comment said off the cuff in the same vein as ‘I’ll kill you for that’,” she moaned, rolling over and putting her hand on her forehead.

“I’m not sure I understand,” Eddie said, “what was said?”

Vickie sat up drew her knees to her chest. “Someone overheard Steve teasing Eddie about cheating on his lover.”

Eddie and Steve looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“Seriously?” Brian huffed. “That’s it? God. People must be hard up for news if that’s all it takes.”

“The reporter’s name was Heather Halloway,” she continued. “She works for the same gossip rag as the guy who brought up the spelling of Abbadon’s name in their press conference. His name was Billy Hargrove. He also has some conspiracy podcast he does that she’ll sometimes feature on. A regular Bonnie and Clyde.”

“So she was just trying to rile Eddie up to get a reaction?” Jeff asked.

Vickie nodded. “Which unfortunately worked.”

Eddie grimaced and scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

“You’re only human,” Vickie said with a half shrug. “I’ll get out ahead of this and like with what happened with Steve, just call all your friends ‘lover’. Make it as uncomfortable for them as possible. Turn it around and throw it their faces.”

“In other words, ‘let Eddie be Eddie’?” Gareth asked.

Vickie grinned. “Perfect. Let Eddie be Eddie.”

Eddie blushed and shoved his hair in front of his face to hide his bashful smile. “Thanks, guys.”

“Now get out of here so I can cuddle with my boyfriend,” Steve huffed, making shooing motions with his hands.

Everyone laughed and they all shuffled out of the room.

Well all but Gareth. He held out his fist.

“We good?” he asked shyly.

Both Steve and Eddie fist bumped him.

“Not yet,” Eddie said softly. “But we’re getting there.”

Gareth smiled and slipped out of the room. A single step forward was better than a step back. They’d get there. They had the time now.

As soon as Gareth left, Eddie turned to Steve. “Cuddling, huh?”

Steve advanced on him like a tiger seeking his prey. “As I understand it, unless they’re sucking your dick they don’t get to know your sex life.”

Eddie’s tongue dragged slowly over his teeth, his drooping seductively. “I did say that, yeah.”

Steve started pushing him back to the bed. When they reached it, he pushed him on the bed and then began crawling up Eddie’s body.

“And since I’m the only one who gets to suck your dick,” he purred, “I wasn’t going to tell them shit.”

Eddie smirked. “You’re a bitch, Stevie. But you’re my bitch and I’m going to fuck you into this mattress.”

“Hmm,” Steve hummed. “Bring it on.”

~

Part 25

Tag List: CLOSED

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8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina @garden-of-gay

[axnqel]

❥ late night cuddles.. ౨ৎ

─ pairing .ᐟ dealer!chris x fem!softie!reader

─ synopsis .ᐟ hanging out with your dealer turns into some late night cuddling

─ word count .ᐟ 763 words

─ content warning .ᐟ smoking, rest is pure fluff!

you had always been a sweet girl, a goody two-shoes, but when your friends introduced you to christopher sturniolo—their favorite dealer—you mayy have changed.. just a tiny bit

you started small at first, smoking pre-rolled joints as a little joke, wanting to see how it would feel like; lets just say it became more of a habit than a little joke.

you and chris would meet up somewhere, talk for a few, you'd pay for the joints, and you would smoke 'em together in his white mustang. it became a little routine for you both—a way to wind down after a long week.

── .✦

○ 10:56pm..

windows were rolled down, smoke surrounded you both, and laughter filling the quiet, but comforting atmosphere of the empty parking lot. you and chris were having your usual yapping sesh, passing a joint, which he generously let you smoke without pay. chris was in the driver seat, with the joint held between his index and middle finger as he exhaled a puff of smoke, continuing his random talk.

"c'mon ma, doesnt 'baffoon' sound like sum kinda monkey?" he looks over at you in the passenger seat with his half-lidded bloodshot eyes.. that man looked so stoned outta his mind that it elicited a soft chuckle from you before you responded to his dumb question.

"sure chris," you sarcastically say before letting out a quick yawn. you were tired as hell and chris knew of it.

"y'want me to drive you home? swear 'm sober enough to drive" chris passed you the joint as you reluctantly nodded. you obviously didnt trust him behind the wheel, but you didnt want to hear his whining the whole way to your place. and without another word, he put the car to drive and started making his way to the apartment complex which you had lived in. just 6 months of knowing each other and chris had the way to your place memorized with all the driving back and forth from his place to yours.

── .✦

○ 11:15pm..

both of you raided your room once you two both entered your apartment building, plopping your tired bodies onto the blanket-covered bed, taking in the lingering smell of chocolate chip cookies you had made hours prior. your eyes closed as your body relaxed, but a feeling of movement on the bed caused your eyes to flick open once more. chris had gotten up from the bed, grabbing his black leather jacket from the bed to leave.

"why are ya leavin''?" you look up at chris and tug on his arm. you were very clingy when high; thats for sure. so when chris would decide to leave you all alone when high, you would always attempt to find a way to make him stay even for just a couple of minutes. "c'monn, stayyyy" you whined.

"ma, i got deals to do tomorrow, i cant be all tired and groggy, lookin' like a zombie when i got a whole bunch of customers f'me" you give him a playful pout and continue to nag him about staying, until he finally agreed. chris had a sorta soft spot for you, i guess—all of your mutual friends would tease him about it, saying hes "in love" and that he "soo whipped" for you. of course you never believed them, i mean why would a 21 year old man who looked like that and had rows of women running after him would like someone like you? youre not anything special!

chris quickly got situated once more, dropping the leather jacket on some chair in your room and throwing himself back onto your bed. his large arms found themselves around your waist. "y'know, youre always so clingy when high," he teased as his fingers traced along the hem of your white lace tank top. his body was warm and comforting as your head rested on his chest which rose and fell steadily. "like a fuckin' koala" he continued and you softly giggled. his voice was so calm and soothing, you loved it. his left hand parted from your waist as traced along your cheek.

chris' voice filled the silence in the room. his hands grazing against your soft skin as your eyes had soon started feeling heavier. you closed your eyes and his voice soothed you to sleep.. he liked this, having you fall asleep in his arms like that. you liked it, being able to feel as comfortable as that with someone. these little late night cuddle moments you two had every one in a while made everything better..

─ written with love, sealed with a kiss, yoki ❤︎

─ y speaks .ᐟ soo this is my first time ACTUALLY writing so its ass, i know..

© axnqel ─ all rights reserved. our work is not to be reposted, translated or plagiarized anywhere.

[whetstonefires]

So the thing with the Matrix for me, right, was I could never get past the assertion that the motivation for keeping humans alive was as a power source.

That pinged as so so stupid, and was presented so late and half-heartedly, that I could not understand it as a sincere part of the premise. Like. We're told very dramatically and pretty early that the world was mostly destroyed by humans 'scourging the skies' to block off all solar radiation in the effort to shut down the solar powered robots, evidently forgetting that all life on Earth is solar-powered also. Too comedically dumb to be really tragic imo.

So to pivot from the premise 'there is no life on earth, other than human beings, because the sun is gone' to 'the humans were kept alive as batteries' is an impossibility for me. Our ludicrous mammalian bodies, incredibly inefficient engines entirely reliant on continuous indirect consumption of solar energy to even survive, were somehow yielding a net output? Not only that, but one superior to nuclear or geothermal???? Bullshit.

I mean. Bull. Shit. I cannot. We just underlined in the backstory how all life on earth relies on the sun! Because life is expensive just to maintain and requires constant external energy input! We get milk from cows by keeping them alive, but that's because they turn the grass energy into something easier for us to process; no such mechanism is proposed for humans consuming dead humans and somehow producing a form of energy more useful to the Machines than just waiting for the corpses to dry out and then burning them to run a goddamn boiler.

This makes the direct opposite of sense.

It had to be in-universe propaganda, right? Another layer of the deception? It couldn't be the real reason. It was too implausible. Which meant I was still waiting to find out why the machines were really bothering with humanity and the Matrix.

I would have accepted without quibble the revelation that humans have special psychic energy that the machines were harvesting; that's dumb but in a comfortable, comprehensible, and above all internally consistent sci-fi kind of way.

I would have been quite open to the idea that the machines relied on human consciousness for their own development to true sapience, and the Matrix was primarily an AI nursery with the enmeshed human brains providing complex inputs, that one's actually cool.

There are a lot of explanations out there aside from the dumb official one, or the Occam's Razor one where they were just keeping some humans alive out of sentimentality! I'm really not that picky!

So anyway I never managed to emotionally engage with the Matrix films well because I had this unresolved 'motives of primary antagonist??? cause of fundamental scenario??????' thing making most of the actual plot twist and drama feel kind of boring.

My sister maintains that this is something wrong with me, that I'm refusing to suspend my disbelief and engage correctly with the text, and this constitutes a hostile, bad-faith and therefore illegitimate reading.

(She hasn't actually said this last part and I'd respect her position more if she did, but this seems to be the broad thrust of her emotional position when she starts shouting.)

I maintain that if a central plank of your sci-fi premise relies on going 'fuck the basic principles of thermodynamics and biology this is a vibes-based system' you should be very careful to avoid invoking the relationship between basic thermodynamics and biology in your core worldbuilding.

[prouddogboi]

Stray dog (Part 2)

To find the most recent chapters, please go to @doggoboigaugau 's masterlist

Sorry it took me quite long lmao TToTT School and work deadlines are killin' me.

Pairings: Ghost x Soap x Male Reader

Summary: Male Reader is traumatized and refuses to open up to 141. Soap found out something horrible going on with him and told Ghost about it.

Word count: 1910

Warnings: Smoking. Mention of attempts to self-h@rm.

The next morning you woke up with a throbbing headache. It was so bad that you felt like hundreds of needles were jabbed into your eye sockets and every time you blinked, those needles plunged into your brain, sending a sharp and chilling pain to the crown of your head. This was by no means a strange occurrence for you though, given the fact that every night the base celebrated a party you always indulged in this self-sabotaging habit. 

Still, no matter how bad the situation was, you still had training to attend to, tasks to get done, reports to compile, and a miserable life to live. You turned your head to look at the clock, silently praying that it wasn’t too late. 

It was 13:00 in the afternoon already. 

“Shit!” You threw an arm over your forehead. Nice, you missed the morning training session. It was your responsibility today to train the new recruits and now you messed up the whole Task Force’s schedule once again just because you could not handle your pathetic emotions properly. The thoughts of giving up flooded your mind yet again since it was no use in waking up anyway, it was too late to do anything useful. The other team members were already aware of how irresponsible you were as you continuously failed to be on time for training the newbies. And what about the newbies’ impression of you? Probably an unreliable man who was no longer fit to be a member of a special Task Force that was particularly famous for its efficiency. Or maybe you were never fit to be one to begin with. 

Why didn’t the others wake you up? You had worked here long enough to know how scary and irritated Ghost could get when people missed his training session. There were even times when he immediately had the unpunctual soldiers pack their things and get sent to another department because he couldn’t fuckin’ stand people disrespecting his schedule. 

“Maybe they forget about my existence. Maybe I wasn’t that big of a part of this Task Force.” You mumbled to yourself, trying to pull your tired body out of the heavy blanket. As much as you wanted to give up, the desire to be important to someone, something, or some organization, …just anything, urged you to wake up and keep trying. You wanted yourself to be seen.

Upon opening the door of your stuffy room, you instinctively covered your eyes as they were attacked by rays of blinding sunlight. Your room was too dark and gloomy, doors and windows tightly shut all day and night, no wonder you would react so unfavorably to the bright sunlight that is often associated with positive moods by most people. 

The base was unusually quiet. You didn’t meet a single soul on your way to the kitchen to fill your hungry stomach. No Soap cracking stupid jokes with his heavy Scottish accent and laughing loudly to them himself, no Gaz cursing at his jokes, no Roach laughing at the two dumb manchildren, no Price sighing and telling them to at least be less raucous. You tried to shrug the nasty nagging feelings off, but it soon became unbearable when you walked into the kitchen and saw all the dirty dishes in the sink. 

“They have finished their lunch.” And they had it without you. The people you considered to be your own family, much closer than the biological family that you had cut all contact with, didn’t wake you up from your drunken sleep, totally forgot your existence, and enjoyed a meal together like there wasn’t anything missing. You knew damn well that you were overexaggerating the seriousness of the situation, but you just couldn’t help it. 

‘What am I to them?’ That question kept spiraling inside your brain, worsening the headache that you were already having. In a brief second, all the nagging feelings were anthropomorphized into a disgusting creature with multiple heads and mouths by your ailed mind, shrilly screaming out your deepest thoughts that were fraught with insecurities. Your legs were rendered weak and you collapsed on the floor. Supporting your weakened body with all four limbs, you took heavy breaths, trying to calm yourself down.

A few minutes later, you managed to put yourself together enough to stand up and get out of the base, on the way you didn’t forget to grab a pack of cigarettes. You felt stupid to resort to nicotine as a way to fight against all those feelings, but you didn’t know a better way. There were times when things were so bad that you had no energy left to hide your conditions from your teammates, and Price was concerned. He used to have you talk to some therapists, and not surprisingly to you at all, they could not handle you for long. No one ever could. 

You were now standing in the parking lot with a cigarette in your mouth. You sighed, clearly satisfied with how strongly its bitter taste stimulated your taste buds. When you first arrived here as the newest member of Task Force 141, Soap and Gaz always joked that you’d become Price’s smoking buddy, but that did not happen. The image of you standing with Price awkwardly because you two couldn’t find a mutual topic for a conversation made you feel too uncomfortable to even try, so you kept avoiding the older man or pretending to not hear his offer until he just stopped inviting you. It was so obvious that the men wanted to get closer to you, they wanted to earn your trust, to make you feel at home and be yourself among them, yet you kept pushing them away. And now perhaps they had stopped trying all together. It was not their fault. It was yours. 

But why it was so painful? You were supposed to feel relieved that they had given up so that you didn’t have to blame yourself every time you turned their kind offer down and saw the sadness drawn on their faces. ‘Why do I keep feeling like shit no matter what I do?’

Feeling that the intense emotions that were barely suppressed by the nicotine started to get out of hand again, you cupped your head with both hands, the half-burning cigarette fell to the ground. Suddenly, your eyes caught the red burning tip of it, together with how the paper wrapping around the nicotine was slowly burnt to black. At that very moment, a dark but familiar thought popped up in your mind. You bowed down to pick up the cigarette, blankly staring at it resting between the two fingers of your right hand. Then, your eyes turned to your left hand, examining your spotty lower arm. It was full of the small round scars that were caused by burning your arms with the burning tip of a cigarette. You had noticed Ghost looked at these scars of yours many times; luckily he never asked about them. The army was a place filled with people who had different background stories and bore numerous scars, so it wouldn’t be abnormal for you to have some that were a bit funny-shaped.

‘Should I do this again?’ 

Maybe you should. It helped with the emotions. Well, temporarily, but that was good enough.

Just as you were about to press the burning tip into your lower left arm, someone threw their whole weight into you. You were hugged by two strong arms and the cigarette was again dropped to the ground.

“There you are! I’ve been finding you everywhere!” It was the Scot man. “Are you smoking? Gosh, I hate this smell! Price’s cigars are much better!”

‘The ones that smell good are never bitter enough.’ You thought to yourself.

“Have you had lunch, pretty boy?” Soap pinched your dumbfounded face.

“Not yet.”

“What? Unbelievable! Get to the kitchen with me right now, Sergeant.” The man literally manhandled you straight from the parking lot into the base, leaving you no time to object.

As you two arrived at your destination, Ghost was already sitting there, sipping some coffee. Soap forced you to sit down right next to him while he proceeded to walk to the fridge and pulled out a dish, putting it inside the microwave oven. 

“Here you are, babyboy~” He put the hot meal in front of you. You chose to ignore the pet name and his flirtatious voice simply because he had started doing it to you ever since you start working here. It was just one of his signature thing, you should not fall for it and mistake it as a sign of interest that could develop into romantic feelings. 

“Thanks, Soap.”

“Aw, don’t be so all worked up and formal, babyboy. Ya’ welcome~”

Silence fell over the three of you, until you just felt so awkward that you had to speak up, “So… how was this morning?”

“It was fine. Ghost stepped in your place and took care of the training.” Soap replied.

You carefully glanced at Ghost, just to find that the man already looked at you, which made you tremble slightly. The skull mask on his face made him too difficult to read, you couldn’t tell whether he was annoyed or he just gave up on expecting something greater from you. 

Soap laughed at your reactions, “It’s okay. You were drunk so Price agreed to let you sleep. Also, Ghost volunteered to help you with the training so he probably doesn’t hold a grudge. Am I right, Ghostie?”

The masked man didn’t answer; instead, he turned back to his cup of coffee.

You quickly finished your meal and left, saying that you should do training by yourself. The truth was you couldn’t stay there any longer, you didn’t want to disturb Ghost and Soap’s rare peaceful time together. You had already made too terrible an impression on Ghost, it’s best that you did not mess up again. As a result, you also missed their conversation. It was not intended for you to listen to anyway.

“You’re right. He did it.” Soap’s voice was solemn, with no sign of flirt or unseriousness like a few minutes before.

“You mean the scars?” Ghost looked up at him from the cup.

“Yeah, the round scar marks that you’ve told me many times.”

“It was just my guess. How do you know he really did it?”

“I found him in the parking lot. He was holding a burning cigarette and about to press it into his left arm.” 

A few minutes of silence passed until Ghost spoke up, “Fuckin’ hell.”

“I asked Price about his past, I know it’s a nosy thing to do, but I wanted to help. Unfortunately, Price knows nothing either. Y/n… the boy never opens up to us.”

The two men sat quietly, exchanging worried looks with each other. If only you could know how much they cared for you, maybe you would find it easier to accept their love and help. Yet, even if they told you, even if they desperately showed you so many times that they cared and loved you so much, would your brain allow your heart to welcome them just like how it used to welcome other people you had met earlier in your life, the ones who left you wounded and made you the way you were today? 

If someone asked you that question, you’d just offer them a weak smile and simply say: “No”. You're now too tired to hold on to any crumbles of hope left in your broken soul. You'd like to give up.

to be continued i guess :")

Taglist: @aphroditeslovr @prestigeghoul @edgyboi10000 @c0nny3917 @peter-the-pan @lovecats123451

[mynameismisty]

MOONLIGHT| KUNG LAOX FEM!READER

☆SUMMARY: Maybe because you were supposed to be with him. Not Raiden. Not anyone. Just for him.

☆ORIGIN: Cliche drunk smut thingy

Pt 1 here (yes this is pt 2 to Too Late, read the pt 1 so u'll get it)

☆WARNINGS: NSFW, fingering, mentions of alcohol, confessions(???), praising ig💀 and some other shit i mightve forgotten

NSFW CONTENT/MINORS DNI

You sulked for almost a month and a half now, you'd stay at your house and just cry and cry over what Raiden's last words to you were.

"I liked you too."

Liked. Liked.

Maybe it was a coincidence or maybe he knew but you heard your telephone ring, answering it, you hear the voice of your other close friend, Kung Lao.

"Hello? Lao?" You say, sniffling and trying to hide the fact you were crying over Raiden again right now.

"Y/N, I haven't- We haven't seen you in a while. Me, Johnny or Kenshi and...and Raiden too... so uh, How are you doing?" Kung Lao spoke softly.

"I- I don't think I'm doing alright." You shut your eyes at the mention of Raiden's name. There was a moment of silence before Kung Lao spoke up again. "Then, just us."

"What?"

"Come over, it'll be just us and we'll drink at my house. Tonight." Lao really wasn't asking or requesting, was he?

"Oh- alright then-" you say as you put down the telephone. Maybe you needed this break maybe just once.

So there it was, you and Kung Lao sitting on the floor at the end of his bed as empty bottles and cans of alcohol laid uselessly beside you two.

"How come you still like Raiden?" Kung Lao says, chuckling with pink cheeks as he took another sip from his own can.

"I've liked him for years, Kung Lao! He liked me back in highschool too and I was too fucking dumb to even notice.." you groan as you say the last sentence, mentally giving yourself a facepalm. "And besides, what hope is there left? No one would even love me anymore."

"What? Yes I- yes, they would. I know someone who'd love you to bits and pieces and every perfect part of you, every flaw. And you behind that facade you keep up."

"Oh, you humor me Lao," You gave a dry chuckle. "Flaws and all? Be serious. Women can barely find guys like that. No guy would like a girl like me that way unless I was like... I don't know, really pretty. And even then I doubt they'd give a rat's ass about anything other else such as personality or shit."

You took another sip from your drink, cursing yourself after you started to feel tired. Were you tired because of the alcohol you just drank? Or was it because you were still thinking about Raiden?

"Y/N? Y/N you don't look fine." Kung Lao says, with a worrying look, letting go of the bottle he held in his hand and gently squeezing yours. "What is it?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"I said I'm fine."

"Again, you don't look fin-" He pushed, putting a hand on your shoulder

"Alright!" You gave in, cutting off Lao's sentence. "I've been mopping around my house. I look like a depressed little kitty who got thrown to the sidewalk and I've been so so so tired lately and this is the only social face to face interaction I've had in a month and a half!"

You sigh and look at him, suddenly feeling worry as he raised his eyebrows at you. "Sorry, I just needed to talk.." you say, drinking the alcohol quickly and purposely gave yourself hiccups to avoid the embarrassingly silent situation.

You noticed how he shuffled his hand and his lips seemed to move but no words came out. Was he gonna say Raiden didn't like you back? Not like you didn't already know.

He turned his head and gazed at you. "I know Raiden doesn't deserve you." Kung Lao says quietly as his dark brown eyes darted back to yours, silently asking for your response.

"Huh? And- and why?" You were suprised to hear this, and from Kung Lao too.

"He's just a simple guy, you are way out of his league."

"More like I'm out of his..." You sigh, putting down the bottle you had in your hand. "I can't move on that easily, Kung Lao. I mean, to who would I move on to? I'm gonna die alone!"

He chuckled and there was a sound of gulping before he finally spoke.

"Me." Kung Lao whispered while averting his gaze from your eyes.

"What?" You choke out. But now you notice, the moonlight coming from his window seemed to play onto his features, highlighting the parts of his face most pretty, it had his dark brown eyes gleaming with small highlights. Was he really this pretty? Did you just now notice?

"Me. I don't care if you don't reciprocate my feelings...I just...I've liked you for so long. Before highschool, before your glowup, before you liked...Raiden." he says, Raiden sounding much of an afterthought.

"You like me?" Your voice seemed to suddenly dissappear, sounding hoarse and throat too tight to speak. Yes, you were drunk, but even then you knew you'd remember everything in the morning

"Of course I do. You're the best thing that happened to me!" He gave a hazy smile, those already too familiar dimples appearing again.

"Do you...do you promise me?"

"Promise what?"

"Promise me that what you're saying is..true." You say, small tears filling up your eyes.

"Instead of telling you, do you want me to show you?" Kung Lao said, grabbing your chin and made you look at him straight in his eyes.

It was all he had to say for you to part your lips obediently, letting his tongue slip past, brushing over yours. Kung Lao tasted like the liquor you both were drinking but with his scent, it was already too familiar.

They felt soft, almost like a cloud. Kung Lao closed his eyes, hand snaking around your back and the other cupping your cheek as your arms were wrapped around the back of his neck . It didn't take long for you two to get into a heated moment with you sitting right up on the couch with your legs wrapped around his waist.

He took off your shirt in a rushed manner, almost ripping off your underwear. You were the same for him, rushing to take his sleeveless hoodie off and unbuttoning his pants.

"Fuck, Lao- I need you."

"I'm here right now, Y/N."

His hands circled your ass and gave a small slap which made you yelp.

"Oh, Y/N. You're too perfect." Kung Lao said as he peppered your collarbone with kisses, making you sound out a soft moan.

You could then feel his fingers going to your wet core, circling your clit at an agonizingly slow pace.

"Lao- shit, please go faster." You moan, covering your mouth with your free hand while the other was holding onto his shoulder.

He paid no attention to your whines and suddenly entered you with two fingers, the wet sound making an echo through the room.

"You feel so gentle, so soft." Kung Lao mumbled as he buried his face into your shoulder and sucking on the skin on your neck. "You're so perfect. How could you not see that?" He said as he sped up the pace on his fingers, wanting to feel you clench around him.

"Fuck fuck fuck! Just like that Lao. Shit."

"Good girl," he purred into your ear. "Eyes on me, my sweet." You really didn't know if it was the drunk talk he was doing or he really meant it, either way your sweating face flushed a shade of pink from his words.

And those words made you climax on his fingers, shutting your eyes and the grip on Kung Lao's shoulder tightened.

Coming down from your high, you felt Kung Lao pull his fingers with a wet sound from your core, bringing it to his mouth and licking the sweetness off his fingers.

You were panting, grip on his shoulder loosening and finally opening your eyes. "Lao?" You asked, staring at him straight in the eyes. "Yes, Y/N?" He says, this time being the one who shut their eyes."

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Because I knew you liked Raiden... I didn't want to conflict you."

"You should've told me sooner." You mumble against him, laying your head on his chest.

There wasn't an answer and you pull away, looking at him again.

Kung Lao was standing infront of you, sleeping. He wasn't moving nor flushing his eyes.

You gave a small flick to his nose but no reaction. "Oh, Lao." You smile tiredlessly, holding him as you carefully set him down on the bed, laying on his back.

"Maybe you'll remember in the morning." Closing his curtains, you lay beside him, snuggling into his side.

"Hopefully you will." You whisper, as the familiar darkness of sleep seemed to pull your eyes shut.

You slept alone, cold even with a blanket on, on most nights.

But tonight it looks like someone's finally keeping you warm.

i js wanted to write a contribution to my baby boy kung lao♡♡♡♡♡

Requests are always open for u lovelies🥰

@xyinparadise

[ddlcbrainrot]

i’m just saying more people should make use of the angst factory that is sayori��s and mc’s friendship

Imagine you have a childhood best friend that you’ve lost touch with, and suddenly you two start hanging out again. You two start spending a lot of time together again, and things are like nothing has changed between you. All that time apart was not enough to strain your friendship, and you think to yourself “ wow even after all this time she still is the same sweet girl i’ve always known”.

Only for you to find out that she’s actually been suffering for as long as you’ve known her. And you didn’t realise a single thing until it was too late.

All the mixed emotions of concern for your friend, guilt of your ignorance (you’ve known her for forever, how couldn’t you tell?) but also the realisation that the person you’ve thought you knew better than anyone was more or less a facade. Now, i’m not saying that Sayori’s cheery personality is all fake, but i imagine MC would have to question where the facade starts and where it ends (did he even know her at all?).

All this and i’ve still haven’t said anything about Sayori’s POV of their friendship, which is just as - if not more - angst inducing.

I think the key factor to understand Sayori’s POV is the word indirect. Because most of the hurt she experiences from MC’s actions is in fact indirect. Even in the game she talks about how his actions were not actively malicious, but they indirectly caused her pain. And yeah, it is because of her feelings for him, but even if we ignore that their friendship alone still caused her indirect pain.

I see a lot of people be like “MC is so mean to her in their base game” which honestly? have you ever been in a long term friendship? idk if it’s just me but the way they interacted seemed like how any childhood friends would. Because no matter how mean your childhood friend is to you, you know they don’t mean any actual malice. It’s basic logic that the person who has been with you since childhood doesn’t actually think of you as just some dumb clutz. But depression isn’t logical. And that’s exactly why Sayori is actually affected by what on any other circumstance would be playful teasing between lifelong friends. It’s actually an issue that, while complicated, could easily be addressed if Sayori communicated to MC her feelings on the matter. But since Sayori is so focused to keeping things the same, how they’ve always been so he doesn’t worry, she doesn’t voice this at all.

I’d like to add that even though Sayori goes out of her way to make sure MC doesn’t find out about her depression, there must also be a part of her that is hurt by his lack of knowledge on the matter. MC in act 1 repeatedly says he knows Sayori better than anyone. Imagine you are Sayori, your friend insists he knows you, fully knows you, and yet he can’t seem to notice this very vital part of you. Again, he is hurting her indirectly, and frankly because Sayori is herself keeping this part of her hidden. It’s a double edged sword, really.

When Sayori does tell MC about her depression however, MC quite frankly responds in a pretty bad way.

I don’t think i need to explain how his response isn’t at all what you should say, i think enough people have done so already. But i will say it makes sense for him to respond that way. I think a lot of people, especially people who are online, have seen so many post or videos about how to handle these kind of situations, so it’s easy to forget that not everyone is that well educated on the subject of mental health (and it makes even more sense for MC in particular to be so clueless on the subject, since men’s knowledge on mental health is literally non existent bc of society’s own view of men as emotionless, but that’s a rant for another time). I think he reacts as a normal teenage guy would tbh. And that is he says the wrong thing.

And as he finds Sayori in the end of act 1, since he doesn’t know of Monika’s influence, he thinks his ignorance costs his best friend’s life.

[brainddeadd]

Heartbreak Girl

part 1

A few months had passed since that night on William’s couch. Life carried on as usual—they’d still hang out, laugh about dumb jokes, and text each other at all hours. But something had shifted, and for once, she was the one noticing it.

She didn’t know when she started looking at him differently, or why she felt this little spark every time his hand brushed hers. But lately, it was like every moment with William was filled with… something else. Something she couldn’t quite name.

It all came to a head one night after she’d gone out on another date that ended in disappointment. She texted William to come over, needing to talk it out like always, and as usual, he was there within minutes, no questions asked. When she opened the door, he was standing there, holding her favorite takeout and a lopsided grin.

“Ready to dissect yet another hopeless romantic disaster?” he joked, but his eyes were soft, concerned, like they always were when she’d been hurt.

She smiled, but this time, it was different. She really looked at him—the way his blonde hair fell over his forehead, the warm hazel in his eyes, the slight curve of his smile that she’d never realized could make her heart skip a beat. She felt something click inside her, like a puzzle piece finally falling into place.

She couldn’t help herself. “Will,” she said, voice softer than usual, almost hesitant. “Have you ever… wondered why we always do this?”

He looked at her, his smile fading a little. “Do what?”

“This.” She gestured between them, searching his face. “Why you’re the one I always call when something goes wrong, and why you’re always there… even though you don’t have to be.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard, but there was a flicker of hope in his eyes. “I mean… that’s what friends do, right?”

“Yeah,” she said slowly, taking a deep breath. “But I don’t think that’s all this is, Will. At least, not anymore. I think I’ve been… missing something.”

A silence settled between them as he watched her, a thousand emotions passing over his face—surprise, hope, and something else that made her heart flutter.

She swallowed, gathering her courage. “That night a few months ago… when you said maybe the right guy was just waiting for me to notice him. Were you… talking about you?”

He took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving hers. “Yeah,” he finally admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I was.”

For a moment, everything around them fell away, and she could only see him, her best friend, the one who had been there all along. All those times he’d comforted her, made her laugh, stayed by her side—she suddenly realized how blind she’d been, how he’d been giving her little pieces of his heart all along.

“Will…” she said, her voice catching. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He gave a sad smile, shrugging. “I didn’t want to ruin what we had. I figured if it was meant to happen, it’d happen. I just wanted you to be happy.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, and he brushed it away gently, his touch sending a warmth through her that felt so different now. “You’re the one who’s been there for me through everything,” she said softly. “The one who’s always made me feel safe. I think I just… I was too scared to see it.”

“Then see it now,” he murmured, his voice trembling slightly. “I’m right here.”

She let out a small laugh, tears still in her eyes. “I see it, Will. I think I’ve always seen it, deep down. I just… needed to realize it.”

He smiled, and this time, it was a smile full of hope, warmth, and so much love that her heart felt like it could burst.

Slowly, he leaned in, giving her plenty of time to pull back. But she didn’t. She closed the gap between them, finally meeting his lips in a soft, tentative kiss that felt like coming home. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, and she melted into him, all the unspoken feelings between them finding a voice at last.

When they finally pulled apart, she rested her forehead against his, a soft laugh escaping her. “So, I guess… I’m your heartbreak girl?”

He chuckled, holding her tighter. “Not anymore,” he murmured, brushing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “You’re mine now. For real.”

And in that moment, with her best friend’s arms around her, she knew she’d finally found everything she’d been searching for.

[bbobpul]

break my heart again 2 — njm

PAIRING. na jaemin x reader SUMMARY.how's jaemin gonna give back for all of y/n's efforts now that he finally can? it's been years—just how much has everything changed? GENRE. angst, fluff, she fell first 🤭 W/C. 3.5k NOTE. hello, part two is here! so sorry i couldn't make a taglist. i didn't have time to make one. nevertheless, i hope this fic make its way back to you. love u all and thankies sm !!!! also, my requests are open !!!

(⁠☉⁠｡⁠☉⁠)⁠!⁠→ my other works !!!!!! part one here!!

i find it hard to picture myself ever being as dedicated to something or someone again, just like how i dedicated my entire college life to na jaemin.

lately, i've been feeling like i forgot what it's like to actually have a dream. back then, na jaemin was my dream, he was my driving force. i would force myself to wake up so early in the morning just so i could see him (or his car) enter the gates of the university. i would go to school even though i am sick and feel a lot better when i get home because i saw na jaemin. but now two years after graduating, i still haven't found a decent job that i actually enjoy.

it's a common experience that many people go through, and i suppose i shouldn't complain about it. maybe i need to put in more effort and push myself harder. part of me wonders if having na jaemin back in my life would rekindle that same sense of dedication that i once had. but as i say these thoughts out loud, they sound absurd, even to myself. why would i wish for my first love to return just so i could find a decent job? why would i long for na jaemin to come back merely to feel that spark in my life again? it's puzzling why i'm even dwelling on thoughts of him and wondering if he holds the key to my happiness and success.

oh, to dream.

oh, for that old dedication to still burn within you.

if only you hadn't acted so dumb that day. could life have taken a different path? are you even happy now? if you hadn't let fear hold you back back then, if you'd actually been brave enough to listen and follow through, would you be happier today?

but no matter how much you keep bothering yourself with that memory, if people come up to you and ask if you feel bad about everything that happened that day, you'd say no. you don't feel bad at all.

deciding to let him go was one of the best things you did. he seemed happy when you left, and after that, you never heard anything about him. he's like a touchy subject in your group of friends, which can be tough sometimes since you share friends. but does it really matter now? him not being in your life probably means he's happier and more peaceful, right?

are you feeling peaceful? is being stuck in a 9-5 job that hardly brought you joy a happy situation? scratch that. did being in that job make you happy? clearly not, as you've just mustered the bravery to quit. and in doing so, you've never felt more joyful.

did you really make the right decision?

just as you were pondering your own question, your phone buzzed on the bedside table. you grabbed it and saw that the caller was renjun, your incredibly patient best friend.

"y/n," he said, his tone becoming unusually serious. "what's up?" you asked. "do you need money?" "yeah?" "here's the deal: our college is putting together a documentary film, and they've chosen your department. but guess what? your old classmates are bombarding me with messages because it looks like you're ignoring them all. frankly, i can't believe you even answered my call," he griped. "wait, hold on. what film? and why would they pick me? are they searching for someone with a post-college life so sad that it belongs in a documentary?" "well, you were practically a legend back in college, so… and apparently, the director specifically wants you, which leads to… well, another issue…" "what's the problem now?" "it's going to be directed by jaemin."

and just like that, you ended the call. but a few seconds later, renjun's call came in again.

"i'm not going to do it." "you stubborn brat." "why him?" "i have no idea!" "why is he even directing? wasn't he studying architecture or something?" "i don't know, y/n. i haven't heard a single thing about him since your graduation." "what do you mean?" "that's not important now, y/n. you're in need of money, right? seize the opportunity. do it for the cash." “so will you do it or will you do it?” “for the cash.”

...

"y/n, you've moved on, haven't you? what's done is done. i'm pretty sure jaemin has forgotten all about it. this chance is coming your way, so just accept it." "i guess i will."

you're drawn in by the idea of making some extra money and the possibility of catching the eye of potential agents or employers. right now, you're at a crossroads, thinking about how this documentary could be a stepping stone to more job opportunities down the line. this situation is different from what usually drives you – this time, it's not about others, it's about focusing on your own goals and aspirations.

you're deliberately avoiding dwelling on your past. just as renjun mentioned, you've moved beyond it. what's done is done. right now, your focus is firmly on the present and the potential that lies ahead in the future.

what's in the past is behind us, including whatever existed between jaemin and you.

from renjun

tomorrow at lunchtime, they'll be going over the schedules and discussing what to film. if you want, you can chat with the director now. his number is 0825 813 2000.

in response, you simply replied with a "okay."

the night before the lunch meeting, a jumble of emotions has you in its grip. the idea of reconnecting with jaemin, who used to be your best friend and is now someone distant, fills you with a sense of awkwardness. you tell yourself that this is about working together and the chance to grow professionally.

after taking a deep breath, you decide to shoot jaemin a text. your fingers hesitate as you type, and the uncertainty you're feeling seems to seep into your message. you finally press send, and your text reads, "hey, it's y/n. heard we're meeting tomorrow for the documentary. just wanted to check in before that."

in almost no time, your phone buzzes with a response: "hey y/n, good to hear from you. yeah, looking forward to our meeting. let's catch up and chat about the project."

the conversation is polite, but beneath the surface, there's an unspoken layer of complexity. you can feel the hesitation in your exchange, a silent recognition of the shared history that's now a distant memory. as you talk about the meeting and the documentary, the easy flow you once had is noticeably absent.

as the texts go back and forth, a sense of tension seems to hang in the air. it's as though the years of friendship you once had are casting a shadow over your conversation. the effortless connection you once shared now requires effort, and both of you can sense the change.

as the conversation wraps up with a simple "see you tomorrow," you're left with a mix of excitement and anxiety. the idea of seeing jaemin again, especially in a professional context, stirs up a range of emotions. this situation is a stark reminder of just how much things have changed – and maybe how some things can't go back to the way they were.

you believed the conversation had concluded, only for your phone to ring once more, bearing yet another message from him. as you read the words on the screen, "i missed you, y/n," a rush of emotions floods over you.

"what's going on with him?" you mutter to yourself, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion. your gaze remains fixed on the message for a moment, your attention drawn to the three blinking dots in the corner – a sign that he's in the process of typing a response. several more seconds tick by, the dots eventually vanishing, and in response, you shut your phone off. you make an attempt to settle into bed and get some rest, but truth be told, it's hard to claim you managed to sleep soundly that night. an undercurrent of thoughts and emotions keeps your mind restless.

the day of lunch lunch finally arrived. you sat across from jaemin, his words forming a distant hum as your thoughts remained clouded and preoccupied. the lingering impact of his recent message kept you in a state of unease, making it difficult to fully engage in the conversation he was leading.

then, something inside you snapped, and you found yourself abruptly interrupting him with a question that had been gnawing at you, "why me?"

he looked at you, his gaze steady, and his response was quick, "why not you?"

your frustration simmered as his words hit you. he was choosing to be cryptic, and it was only adding to your confusion. pushing past your exasperation, you pressed on, "listen, i know we didn't part on the best terms, but why come back now and act like everything's fine? i mean, sure, it's better than hostility, but why choose me? i'm the one who's no longer part of your life."

his expression remained neutral, void of any emotions as he replied, "that's not true."

you raised an eyebrow, challenging him to elaborate. "what's not true?"

"that you have nothing to do with my life, y/n," he stated firmly.

the weight of his words settled heavily between you two, the gravity of the situation growing more apparent. the lunch table had transformed into an arena for confronting unresolved issues.

you scoffed, unable to hold back your disbelief. "jaemin, i made one mistake, and now you're trying to imply that my actions shaped your entire life?"

his eyes held yours, unwavering. "y/n, it's not just about that one mistake. everything that followed, everything that shaped who i am today… it's all connected to you."

your mind reeled, trying to grasp the enormity of what he was suggesting. the complexities of your shared history seemed to crash over you, leaving you grappling with a whirlwind of emotions and a tangled web of unspoken feelings.

the weight of his words left you momentarily speechless, and in an attempt to shift away from the intensity, you sought to change the subject. "where are the other producers? why is it just you here?"

"y/n…" he began, his tone suggesting he wanted to continue the previous conversation.

however, you opted to sidestep the discussion entirely. you pretended as if the profound exchange hadn't just occurred. "i notice you're taking on the role of a director now. quite the career shift, huh?" you inquired, masking your internal turmoil with a casual demeanor. you acted as if there hadn't been a two-year gap in your connection, as though things between you were perfectly ordinary.

he met your gaze, a faint hint of something unreadable in his eyes. "i pursued another dream when i felt i'd lost the chance for my first one."

"your first dream… not architecture, then?" you prodded, curious about the direction he had taken.

he shook his head, a soft chuckle escaping him, leaving you puzzled yet again. "no, not architecture. well, i suppose that just wasn't meant for me back then, but maybe it is now."

the cryptic nature of his response only added to the layers of confusion and intrigue that surrounded him. there was something about the way he spoke that hinted at deeper currents beneath the surface, emotions and experiences that he hadn't fully revealed. you found yourself torn between the desire to push for answers and the instinct to allow him his privacy. the lunch meeting had transformed into a stage for untangling not just the complexities of the documentary but also the intricate web of emotions and history between you and jaemin.

leaving the restaurant, a whirlwind of unanswered questions dances in your mind. yet, for now, you choose to tuck those thoughts away, focusing instead on the looming filming date just a few days away – next saturday.

in the span of time between that lunch and the upcoming shoot, jaemin proves consistent in his attempts to bridge the gap between you two. he regularly reaches out, updating you about his day and proposing get-togethers, which you consistently decline.

the days pass, marked by a series of messages and missed opportunities. despite the undeniable tension, there's an undeniable persistence on jaemin's part, a determined effort to reconnect and reestablish a sense of familiarity. however, your apprehensions and the memories of your past dynamics hold you back, keeping you from embracing his overtures.

as the countdown to the filming day continues, you find yourself in a delicate dance – balancing the unresolved history between you and the prospects of the future. the lines between your personal and professional lives are blurred, and the documentary project becomes a backdrop against which the intricacies of your relationship with jaemin play out.

you find yourself constantly pondering what his intentions could be. his actions leave you wondering, and you can't help but question what he's aiming for. in your perspective, you're merely a negative aspect of his life – a streak of misfortune. you would have expected him to have learned from the past, but his determination remains unshakeable.

as you contemplate these thoughts, your phone lights up once more, bearing yet another message from him. his name on the screen triggers a whirlwind of emotions – a mixture of uncertainty, annoyance, and a hint of curiosity. opening the message, you brace yourself for whatever he might convey this time. the consistency in his attempts at communication only serves to deepen the intricate web of emotions you hold for him, leaving you caught between your shared history and the unpredictability of the present.

"the offer's still there, y/n. :)" "jaemin, let's be real. just because i'm on board with your documentary idea doesn't mean we're suddenly best buds again. a lot has changed." "i want to reconnect, though." "actually, scratch that. i want to get to know you all over again." "jaemin, i appreciate the effort, but let's keep things professional, okay?" “i’m sorry, y/n. goodnight.”

after your straightforward message, his responses ceased. a silence settled in, stretching on until saturday – the day you were set to see him again. the anticipation and uncertainty had been building, and now the moment was finally at hand.

you stepped into the studio and immediately noticed that you and jaemin were the only ones present. your confusion must have been evident on your face, prompting him to address the situation promptly.

"um, the team thought having fewer people in the room would create a more personal atmosphere," he began, his voice carrying a hint of unease. "and, well, they decided to keep me here, you know, being the director and all, and also because we have a history…"

his words trailed off, and there was a subtle vulnerability in his tone. it was as if he was acknowledging the intricacies of your past connection, while simultaneously recognizing the complexities it introduced into your current dynamic. the studio, usually a place of creativity and collaboration, had transformed into a space laden with the weight of your shared history.

"it's okay," you responded, your words carrying a touch of reassurance. as your reply registered, a faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips – a detail you couldn't help but notice. after all, it was that very smile that had ignited four years of your life, a smile that held memories and emotions you had both shared.

"um, i'll just ask you a few questions, and then you're free to go," he stated, his voice carrying a hint of nervousness that didn't escape your notice. this new facet of his demeanor felt unfamiliar to you, a departure from the confident jaemin you had known.

you found yourself disliking this uneasiness, and a thought occurred to you – maybe it was time to rekindle something within him. as he began asking you questions, you decided to respond in a way that would evoke a certain familiarity between you two. it was a subtle attempt to bridge the gap, to draw out the person you once knew.

you had believed that his silence was what you wanted. you had convinced yourself that distancing yourself from him would protect you from the past mistakes. but now, facing the reality of the situation, you realized that perhaps a certain selfishness was ingrained within you. maybe, just maybe, you yearned to erase the distance, to defy your own rationalizations.

in this moment, you found yourself yearning to rekindle what had been lost, to bring back a connection that once meant so much. the conflicting emotions within you painted a complex picture of your desires – a battle between self-preservation and the longing for something more.

however, as you locked eyes with him and saw the lack of any discernible emotion in his gaze, a haunting wave of fear resurfaced within you. in that moment, it was as if time rewound, taking you back to the day of your graduation when your heart and spirit had felt shattered. the memory of that painful experience rushed back, accompanied by the doubts and uncertainties that had plagued you.

if you were to truly confront your own feelings, you'd admit that what you witnessed that night had left you questioning your own worth. the events had stirred up doubts about whether you had ever been deserving of taking risks for, whether you had ever been someone worth fighting for.

"hey, good morning, y/n."

"morning, director."

"how's today treating you?"

"pretty good, thanks."

"hmm, and what's life been like after college?"

"…"

"take your time."

"at first, i felt okay. my friends were all getting closer to their dreams, and i was genuinely happy for them. especially…"

"especially who?"

"especially the person i left behind."

"…"

"i was content being happy for someone else. then another year went by, and i wasn't feeling so great anymore."

"do you really think they're happy?"

"hmm?"

"the person you left behind."

"yeah. and my other friends seem happy too. they've got jobs they love, they're with people they care about, and i only had… renjun *laughs* … but sometimes, i can't help but feel like i'm the one who got left behind, you know? even though i was the one who walked away."

"let's talk about your person."

"oh *laughs* he's not my person."

pausing for a moment, you glanced at jaemin behind the camera. the question lingered in your mind: what was he trying to do? his actions and intentions remained a puzzle.

his expression grew serious, his gaze fixed intently on you. it was as if he had something to convey, something he was holding back.

"the last time i actually saw him was in an instagram post. he was with some girl. it happened on my graduation day. i waited the whole day, hoping he'd appear in the midst of the crowd. when he didn't, i held onto the possibility of seeing him by the gates. but that didn't happen either. my last hope was maybe he'd send me a single message, but by the end of the day, nothing came. then i went on instagram and saw a photo – a warning, i guess. a warning that i should just stop hoping. that… happened a few weeks later, i think. or maybe it was just a few days after our argument, the one where he told me he couldn't love… yeah."

you met his gaze and once again, his face was serious. his eyes were furrowed and his mouth was slightly open. a few moments passed, and he let out a shaky breath. screw it, you thought, it's out there now and i don't care anymore.

your silent exchange was interrupted as he shifted the camera away. confusion clouded your thoughts as you watched him move. he turned back to you, his expression still serious, and then he grabbed a chair from the nearby table. he sat down with his back facing you.

the room felt charged with unspoken emotions, leaving you to question his intentions and actions. it was as if he was peeling away layers, searching for something beneath the surface.

"did you know that…" he began, his voice breaking the silence. "she was his sister?"

"i never told you about her, that's on me," he admitted with a chuckle. "that was her last day, y/n. so i decided to spend the entire day with her. i'm sorry."

you were taken aback. "i'm sorry–"

"it's okay, y/n."

"i know i left you with so many questions that night, but let me tell you… every effort you made, every cookie you baked, i cherished all of it. i loved you. i'm sorry if my actions made you doubt yourself."

another pause filled the air.

"i left when you left."

"you were my dream. architecture wasn't really my passion, you know? i was struggling a lot, but luckily, you were there with me. i decided to chase after what i truly loved when you left, because i realized if i wanted you back in my life, it should be when i'm at my best, right? i wasn't lying when i said i couldn't love. i didn't want to love you when i was broken. i wanted to be the best version of myself for you. i thought that if i wanted you to be with the best person, then that should be me. so i became that person, a director, and then i planned all of this." his eyes finally met yours.

"i was always looking at you."

tears welled up in your eyes, and he seemed to notice. he took a step towards you and enveloped you in his arms.

"i'm sorry for not holding onto you back then, baby. but i promise, i won't let go of you now," he whispered.

"i'm sorry for leaving, jaemin," you sobbed.

"shh, you did what you thought was right."

"do you want to have lunch with me now?" he asked.

a mixture of emotions flooded your heart, and with a nod, you replied, "yes, jaemin."

[n7sloth]

Sorry for the long story. Skip if you don't care about religious stuff.

In roughly 2012, I was living in Chicago. At that time, I didn't consider myself religious. I'd been born Catholic, confirmed Protestant, weakly tried to dabble in witchcraft I didn't really believe in in my early 20s, and by 2012 I was 32 and just didn't believe in anything.

But some part of me *wanted* to, if that makes sense? I felt like something was missing. But nothing seemed to vibe.

So in summer of that year I was walking up the street headed to Millenium Park to just go and people watch for a bit, and I passed two nuns and a priest.

No, this post isn't what you're thinking now. But there's a point here. The point is that it was still summer, albeit late, and it was hot and humid. And here were these two young women and a young man, absolutely covered neck to toe in black, and the women had small head coverings. I felt stifled on their behalf. But here they were, laughing together and walking as if they didn't notice.

I wanted that sense of importance. I wanted something to mean enough to me that I was willing to be that uncomfortable. Does that make sense? Not that I wanted to suffer, but that it wouldn't *feel* like suffering, because I *believed* enough.

That bothered me for a few years. Then, kind of unbidden and unprompted a few years later, a little voice in the back of my mind suggested I look into Judaism. I spoke with a Jewish friend, but I didn't know what to ask. How was someone raised at minimum secularly Christian supposed to know what questions to ask to unlearn what I'd been taught?

I kinda got frustrated and let it go for another couple of years.

In 2021ish, during lockdown, I found a woman on TikTok who was live streaming her synagogues services (with their permission) and I fell in love. Everything about it felt like coming home; plus the music was just gorgeous.

In 2022 when isolation relaxed a little and some in-person services resumed, I found a Reform temple nearby and started attending services. I was immediately welcomed and treated as a friend and equal, even without being Jewish yet. I took intro to judaism twice, and in late 2023, I was invited to be a founding member of the temples first Pride group, for representation, education, and inclusion.

I was so honored. Of course I joined. We went through the process of being officially vetted and voted on by the Board, and became an official group. In June of this year, for the annual Pride Shabbat service, I was invited to be part of a small Q&A panel to help provide insight and education on how to support your queer brethren.

And then the rabbi left. And a new one came in.

Suddenly, one of my friends in the Pride group was denied membership into a women's group because her spouse wasn't Jewish and "it might make others uncomfortable". (She is in a straight/straight-passing marriage.) Other board members were present and heard this, and said nothing.

She brought it up to the new rabbi, who declared that the board had final say and could do as they pleased. So she left the shul entirely.

Later, another member reported that the board didn't "trust" the Pride group, because they "didn't know what they were up to". Despite having officers that could easily have answered any questions.

So I left, too. I no longer felt safe and welcomed. But I didn't want to give up, either.

I reached out to the rabbi who leads the shul i started with - the one I joined on TikTok. And while I haven't heard from her personally yet (because my dumb ass emailed during the High Holy Days) I'm still excited. Because at least I'm trying. Plus I've signed up to attend two of their HHD services.

Im not giving up on this. I *will* find someone who accepts me for who I am and is willing to teach me. This is what I've been chasing for 10 years now. I just want to come home.