#i hope i won't regret anymore next time

[ybcpatrick]

.

[avemakuta]

I think that the real fantasy of regeneration isn't living forever, it's being able to die without having to end.

It's the War Doctor being able to hope that after he dies, his next incarnation won't be a warrior anymore. It's Ten praying that when he does go, that new man who saunters away will be the Doctor in a way that Ten doesn't know how to anymore. It's Fifteen hoping against hope that maybe this time, maybe this life, he'll be able to avoid becoming a killer.

It's the ability to look back at your past and your regrets and your failures and say "I was a different person back then" and maybe, just maybe, genuinely believe it.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

I never really made a request before so that's my first time wish u like it

So I was thinking about some fluff drunk y/n acting all stupid and flirty to bakugo who doesn't like drinking around her because he knows that they both won't have someone to send them home if they got drunk

[Secretly caring]

*Whispering* he also gets a bit touchy if she let's him

*friends to lovers thing*

Wish my explanation was good enough and can't wait for the next chapter of FBRC <3

can't say no to you . . (not that i want to)

katsuki takes you home after a night out

a/n: OUUU this is such a cute idea ! i’m so happy, this is my first request as well so we both have a milestone LMAOOO ! i tried to honour your request as best i could ! <3 (OU and AAAAA im glad you like FBRC ! i hope you’ll keep reading !)

bakugou katsuki considers himself a mature, mostly rational person.

despite what others, media outlets and even his own damn friends might say, katsuki thinks he’s really not that bad.

sure, he’s flipped off a camera man, cursed out another one…and another one—but who doesn’t have a bad day once in a while ?

he’s changed since he was a kid, he doesn’t get set off as easy anymore most days. he’s learned to be more patient, a little more levelheaded. that’s at least something his shitty friends will tell you.

he’s changed from when he was a kid, he’s grown now. he’s a man.

but right now katsuki feels like smashing your head in with a brick.

"kah-su-kiiiiiiiii... m'sleeppyy" you whine, leaning against his shoulder.

katsuki doesn't regret a lot, but he sure as hell regrets accepting to go out for drinks with you. again. you had said something about 'celebrating getting a day off after a while'.

"never should've accepted goin' out with yer ass." he laments grumpily. despite the fact he says this every single time he goes out to drink with you, he never seems to learn his lesson. he never seems to want to learn his lesson.

truth is, katsuki has grown a lot since his UA days but one thing he hasn't outgrown is his giant rampant crush on you. it's embarrassing how tightly you've got him wrapped around your finger, how easily you can get him to do whatever you want as long as you just asked him to.

he complains and grumbles about it but he'll never, ever, say no to you.

which is how he always, always, ends up in this predicament.

katsuki snaps out of his thoughts when he hears you sniffle.

"y-ya don't like.." you sniffle again " ya don't like hangin' out wif me ?"

fuck.

immediatly it's like a switch had been flipped. he moves his arm so he can wrap it around you and have you lean against his chest. you always got emotional when you were a little too drunk, that usually meant it was time to go.

"no—no, s'not that. i—" he sucks in a breath, cheeks heating up despite the fact he knows there's barely any chance you'll remember this. usually he'd remind you of your embarrassing drunk moments as revenge for making him take you home and taking care of your ass because you were too drunk to, but he'll refrain from mentioning this part.

"i do like hangin' out with you, dummy. quit talkin' stupid." he shushes you softly, unconsciously rubbing your arm comfortingly.

"b-but you said, you regretted goin' out wit me" you pout. fuck, you're cute. katsuki has to fight off the urge to lean down and kiss it away.

"i say a lot of stuff i don't always mean, sweets. you know that." he replies " 'f i didn't wanna hang out with ya, i wouldn't."

you hum pensively, leaning against his shoulder as you think. you smell like something sweet, he can't quite track down what it is, but it's making him dizzy. you've always had the ability to make him lose focus. you're so close and you smell so good and katsuki feels like he's drunk.

"mmyeah...guess that's true" you hiccup. you raise your hand up to trace his jaw line with your finger and he refuses to look at you but he can hear the cheeky little smile in your voice "you like hanging out with me, right ? that's why you always say yes when i ask !

he scoffs "i only say yes 'cuz i know you'd just end up goin' out anyway, you'd get yourself in trouble." he's stiff as a fucking board, he feels like if he moves a little too much he'll say something he shouldn't.

"no i wouldn't" you argue, then you reach your whole hand up to squeeze his cheeks "but even if i did, i know you'd come to save me, mr. dynamight" you giggle

he's so sick of you. katsuki's been in plenty of situations where he was this close to death, but he's certain you're gonna be the death of him.

"time for bed" he grumbles. he lifts you by your shoulders slightly until you can properly stand on your feet "m'getting you home, yer too drunk to be up right now" he asserts, chuckling when you pout at him when he flicks your forehead

"you're not the boss o' me ! 'm completely—oops" you trip forward but katsuki catches you with ease, he's always there to.

you look up at him innocently and he looks down at you with one eyebrow raised "you were sayin' ?" he sassed.

you roll your eyes at him and push off him slightly to stand more comfortably, you stick your tongue out at him. " i said—i'm fine..but if you wanna take me home that badly, i guess i'll allow it" you shrug. katsuki squints then shakes his head, smiling to himself. you catch him and giggle, he can't cover up his chuckle fast enough. you must look stupid to the other people in the bar just sitting there giggling at each other, he realizes. then he remembers he could honestly not give enough of a shit about what these other drunk losers thought, the only drunk loser he cared about was right here in his arms.

right where you belonged.

you're out like a light by the time katsuki's brought you back to your apartment, but he doesn't mind, he'd expected it anyway. he carries you like a sack of potatoes to your floor. he's glad he'd managed to grab your keys before you fell asleep, having to wrestle the keys from you and risk you getting cranky at him doesn't sound all that nice right now.

he helps you take off your shoes and he's extremely grateful you're just lucid enough to change by yourself. he helps you clean up and brush your teeth, then carries you to bed even though he knows damn well you could walk just fine. not before getting you to down a glass of water.

you're annoying when you're drunk and sleepy, you're whiny and everything is too much work for you. katsuki grumbles right along with you, calling you a pain in the ass, then promptly taking it back when he sees you tearing up again. he grumbles and complains but he knows he wouldn't let anyone else do it for him. not only because he's sure whoever it is wouldn't even be able to do this half as well as he does, but also because despite his better judgement, despite the fact you piss him off to no bounds, you're his to take care of. and he'd be damned if he let anyone else take care of what's his.

so you whine, and he complains, but he truly wouldn't have it any other way.

you insist on wanting him to stay with you and he knows he probably shouldn't. he likes you too much to just casually stay here with you, he knows he won't be able to sleep and he's just going to keep staring at your lashes fluttering as you dream. but you pout at him and plead him so sweetly, he really can't say no to you.

he likes you too much.

he steals one of your hoodies and a pair of sweatpants (he technically isn't stealing—since they're both his to begin with) and climbs into bed with you. you immediatly latch onto him, nuzzling into his shoulder before thanking him.

"for what ?" he mutters sleepily, slowly wrapping his arms around you.

"for.." you interrupt yourself with a yawn, he chuckles "for always takin' care of me..you're the best."

if you were more sober, he'd simply answer with a cocky "tell me something i don't know." but you're not and katsuki's already too far gone, so he squeezes your waist in appreciation then responds " i'm always gonna take care of you."

he's suprised by how soft and sappy he sounds but you suprise him even more when you lean up slightly to press a feather light kiss to the underside of his jaw and whisper a sweet little "love you."

he lays there for a good long while without response, you don't mind because you chose that exact moment to fall asleep. he lays there and he's sure he won't be able to fall asleep now. fuck you for knocking out and leaving him like this, he thinks. he's trying not to give himself false hope, maybe you meant it platonically. he keeps trying and he keeps thinking all night but he's still impossibly giddy.

he was contemplating not telling you anything about last night, but he can't help himself. he's nervous—god, he's so fucking nervous when you wake up while he's getting comfy in your kitchen like it was his, making breakfast. you look groggy and sleepy and hungover, but to him, you still look adorable.

when you're awake enough, munching away at the breakfast he's made, he tells you about last night and his heart slams against his chest when he mentions what you had told him.

though, when he sees how you choke on a piece of your toast, and how flustered you look, like a deer in headlights, his heart beats hard against his ribcage for a completely different reason.

the next time you go out for drinks, it's to celebrate the start of your relationship.

AAA first request done ! hope you liked this anon <3 if you guys have any request pleassseee lemme know !

[hikarry]

I'm not really on the team that swears to Jesus and beyond that Crowley lost his memories after the Fall. Yes, of course, he forgot some stuff because, ya know, he has been alive for more than 6000 years and if I don't remember what I ate for lunch yesterday, Satan knows he won't remember every single second of his life, but he remembers the important things

"Ah, but what about him not remembering fighting alongside FurFur or building the thingy with Saraqael?"

Love, I give you two options:

Those are either some of the stuff he didn't consider important enough to remember OR he is just straight up fucking with them. He does remember, but why reveal it if playing dumb sometimes is good in the long run? Might be useful

Alas, I don't know, but I will die on the hill that he does remember

Which means he most probably remembers meeting Aziraphale. Not because Aziraphale was "important" at the time per se, or because it was love at first sight (because it wasnt, not for him. Bro was so focused on the nebula he didnt even introduce himself when Aziraphale did. He threw him a "Right. Nice to meet ya. Anyway, nebula time!"), but because he was there when Crowley created the nebula and, as he said, he had been waiting for that moment since "well, always". It's an important moment for him, so he remembers. Aziraphale just so happened to be present

I don't know if that was the only interaction they had in Heaven or not (and that's not the point I'm trying to get to so I will ignore that problem for a later post, maybe), but when the now Demon Crawley was sent up to the Garden, he did remember Aziraphale. That's why he approached him

Cmon, Crowley isn't stupid. Of course he wouldn't approach an angel on the wall just willy nilly and make conversation. He didn't know Aziraphale had given away the flaming sword yet. Just approaching an angel from behind and morph into a demon next to him out of nowhere could be a death sentence. Or at least an A Line for a good smitting

Yet, he did it. He had at least 3 other angels to choose from but he approached the angel that he remembered from back in the beginning that was kind enough to help him with the engine of the nebula. Hell! I even bet this was not the first time they saw each other in the Garden!

Bet they've seen and observed each other from afar a few times while they interacted with the humans (yes, cause I believe Crawley, before tempting Eve, tried to gain her trust. It's easier to listen to a friend than a random snake) or just around the Garden really.

That's why Aziraphale didn't get surprised when Crawley showed up at the wall, because he knew the demon snake had been around the Garden for a while. He probably even recognized him as the former Star Maker and hoped he was still a little bit of his old self so he allowed himself to engage in conversation

Anyhow, another clue? This:

He remembers how Heaven works. He remembers he was a high ranking angel. Satan, he remembers the bloody passwords!

Do you know what else he remembers?

Cause they didn't throw that line in there for nothing. No, gents. Cmon. Nothing is random in Good Omens

He knows who he was. He remembers being the Star Maker that hung the stars in the sky

He remembers why he fell, for goodness sake

And the fact that he remembers everything makes all of it so much more tragic, doesn't it? He remembers his life before the Fall, his supposed friends that dragged him into the pit with them, what Her love felt like, the "mistakes" he made that led to his Fall

And it must have hurt. It must have hurt so much when he found himself in a pit of boiling sulfur with his wings completely burned and without Her love because he remembered it all. He must have been so bloody confused for so long

He might have regretted it. All the questions and the company he kept that made him Fall. But he doesn't anymore.

He knows he doesn't need Heaven, he doesn't need Hell. They are toxic. All he needs is his pacific fragile existence on Earth with Aziraphale and yet...well, that's something else he won't forget now, is it?

*clears throat*

I rest my case

[chugging-bleach]

"SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO." - the 4 times you almost met jason and the one time you did.

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summary. you regret not speaking to jason todd in high school. then, another masked vigilante by the name of red hood seems to make all your regrets dissolve.

tags. fluff, light angst, slight hurt/comfort, slow burn, eventual happy ending

a/n. this idea came from a jason todd x <y/n> fic i am in the process of writing (if you would like to know when it comes out, follow or check out my ao3). i hope you enjoy reading this <3 feel free to request anything you would like to see me write.

the first time.

gotham high, located at the heart of crime alley, was for lack of a better word shitty. you hated studying, you never got along with anyone and prayed that the time went by fast. the only thing that made you keep going back to high school was staring at that handsome boy with bright blue eyes and ratty black hair who sat a seat ahead of you. how he made it to first place each year was a mystery to you since he was constantly skipping class.

what kept you going was looking forward to that one day he would attend class and then you could stare at the back of his head to make the time go by faster. one day you knew that you would want to freeze this moment and make it last forever, but for now, staring will do. not like jason would care and catch you looking.

then one day he completely stopped showing up. you thought he would come back. but then you graduated. without him ever returning. you hated yourself for never trying to talk to him. you should have spoken to him rather than staring holes into him. actually, staring at him must have been super creepy. were you the reason why he stopped coming to school? creeped out by the girl who bore holes into him, just staring and staring? regardless of the real reason, you know that you would always regret not talking to him. not being able to thank him for making school a little better.

the second time.

as was routine for gothamites, you get saved from some large attack from some big shot criminal at the hands of batman and robin. you were a bit upset at being saved since you really wouldn't mind dying at the hands of a rouge robber. you had nothing to look forward to. there wasn't enough money to go to university. bills piled up no matter how many jobs you worked.

you snap out of your thoughts when robin puts a shock blanket around you and instead of being grateful, you throw it on the floor. you remember that you have to get back to work otherwise you'll be behind on rent again.

"where are you going?" batman placed a hand on your shoulder to stop you.

"work," you simply say.

"stay put for a while. we need to make sure you're alright."

"well, i won't be alright if i don't work and miss rent. again."

you just talked back to the batman. maybe he will kill you and then you might die quicker than working yourself to death.

"let me handle this one," and then robin is making you sit down next to him. you were trying to avoid robin knowing that you will project your regret on to him. the regret of never being able to talk to jason since both jason and robin have eerily similar features. work is just an excuse. you need to leave.

"please. i won't make rent. let me go."

"mad respect talking to him like that. but, you inhaled some poison gas. take the antidote. then you can go back."

"give it to the others here. i don't give a fuck."

you know you shouldn't be this angry. but you are this angry. at yourself. and robin has made that anger surface.

"how about i give you something to look forward to? then you'll stay for the antidote?"

"the person i looked forward to seeing disappeared before i could talk to him," you say before you can stop yourself. you feel ridiculous admitting it, that just staring at some random boy gave you hope. but it did. and now that boy wasn't there anymore.

"that dumbass didn't know how lucky he was."

you shook your head. "he truly is lucky. he was adopted by bruce wayne. i just... he made school less shitty even though he doesn't even know who i am and before i could thank him he was gone. it's stupid, i know, but i just wanted to say thank you to him. like, thank you, jason. that's it. and i'll never get to say it."

robin puts the shock blanket around you again. he was silent. "i'm sorry for saying all that. but now that i said it, i'll thank you instead of him." you turned and stared at robin's eye mask, imagining it was jason. it wasn't that difficult, considering they both had the same bright blue eyes and ratty black hair.

"thank you, jason for not getting creeped out by all my staring." you feel much lighter. maybe you just had to talk to someone. robin rises from your side.

"i'm sure that dumbass heard your thanks, though i'm sure he doesn't deserve any of it."

third time.

life at gotham, heart of wacky and dangerous criminals, was for lack of a better word still shitty. you never saved up nearly enough to go to university but managed to get a decent-ish job at three diners which paid nearly enough for being located in gotham.

you were wiping down table tops and listening to the news playing the death anniversary of jason todd, bruce wayne’s adopted son. it was tragic to die that young. and you were surprised the news didn't leave you as heartbroken as you had thought it would.

you continued wiping down the counters, when for the third time today, thugs burst in and demanded to be served. as per policy, you served anyone especially the dangerous sort. before you could get menus for them and think of how to explain to the next diner that yes, thugs broke in after her shift ended yet again, a person wearing a red helmet/mask comes inside, drags the thugs outside with a "not so fast," and that's that. your shift's over. instead of missing the next job, you will be arriving late, which won't be that difficult to explain.

you finish tidying up and leave.

the strange man with the red helmet has tied up the thugs and left them at the side of the pavement. he is ready to leave on his motorcycle. you make a move to leave, accustomed to strange costumed people taking care of thugs like this.

"for all that trouble, want a ride?" you think being kidnapped won't be too bad. not like you have anything to look forward to.

"sure."

just as quickly as he had tied those thugs up without fanfare, you were sitting behind him, arms wrapped around his waist. you whispered the directions of the place adding, "didn't know this was part of the whole hero thing. giving people free lifts to places."

"you would be surprised how much money i burn on gas for these free lifts."

he drove way too fast. you tightened your hold on him, afraid you were gonna fly off. any conversation was impossible with the loud noise of the engine. but it felt freeing to go this recklessly fast.

"wonder who you need to see here."

oh no. you gave the wrong directions. you were not planning to do this. damn the news for reminding you. you promised last year was the last time you would do this.

before you can stop yourself, you're crying. you were heartbroken after all. "i don't know why i do this to myself each year. he never even knew me," you choke out. you had gotten off the bike at some point, expecting this person to leave.

"if it gives you peace to visit this person, you should. besides this punk is lucky to have you visit him."

ignoring the sense of deja vu you were getting, you shook your head. "jason was anything but lucky. he died so young. i never knew him. i wish i knew him better." he lended you his shoulder to cry on. you had more regrets than you had previously thought. "he did not deserve to die young."

your tears sat on top of his leather jacket and you moved to wipe them away with your napkin. instead, he stops you, wiping your tears away with the pads of his gloved fingers.

"he seriously is a lucky boy to have you visit and cry for him"

fourth time.

you were saving up money to move out of this shithole. nothing was tying you down to this place and there were new vigilantes and new villains rising everyday. none of the other cities were safe, but you had heard they offered better jobs and more affordable bills. less leaky ceilings. you never went to college so jobs still were a little difficult to get, but otherwise, you would be paid more as a server at anyother city, except gotham. if not working for wayne enterprises, jobs were a struggle in gotham. life was a struggle. you remarked upon how you made it this far.

then, someone broke through your window.

the first thought - for fuck's sake, who was gonna pay for it?

second - oh it's red hood, he will pay for it.

this is not the first time a vigilante crashed through your window. being a gothamite sucks.

you brushed the pieces of glass away from his leather jacket and surveyed him for damage. he did not seem hurt. only mildly annoyed. the red helmet wouldn't be enough to conceal his reaction from her.

"coffee as per usual? along with the window repairs and cleanup?"

you swear he is frowning under that helmet. not at you, but at the person who threw him. you don't wait for his answer, already preparing his coffee.

"help me up?"

"what? are your legs broken?"

"they are if you will carry me."

"red, combining you and the rest of your little clique this is the tenth time my window has been broken. sixth time by you, alone."

the person you met on jason todd's death anniversary was red hood. he was an anti-batman vigilante and you couldn't have given two shits. except, red made you give two shits. after that first day at the diner, he kept coming back to pick up food during your shifts. when the diner inevitably burned down, he came to the other diner you started working at. then it was crashing through your apartment window. then it was crashing with robin through your apartment window.

you were overjoyed when he came, but it was best you push him away before he got too close, and up and disappeared like jason had. looking forward to things like this was a curse.

"hope i make it to a seventh. seventh times the charm."

"charm for what?" you say, slamming the mug in front of him, with a little more force than you wanted to.

"for my charm to work on you." he winked and took a sip from the cup. his other hand rested on top of yours and your heart wrenched in your chest. you really wanted to know red hood better. you wanted him to keep crashing through your window instead of entering through the front door. but then he would die during patrol and you would have nothing more to look forward to. again. you carefully free your hand from his, ignoring his puzzled expression and the dejection you feel separating from him.

you have to stop this. "listen, you shouldn't see me anymore."

"why?

"i don't...don't need you to disappear too. jason disappearing was horrible and he wasn't safe with the most powerful billionaire in gotham. you break in through people's windows. what if next time you break something? like your spine or..."

you expect red hood to laugh at you. you were a minuscule, microscopic part of jason's life. he shouldn't be this huge a part of your life. if he were alive, you knew the regret wouldn't eat you up inside. but he wasn't alive. you couldn't hold that moment as a happy memory of a stupid thing you did in high school.

"all i'm hearing is, breaking your window is fine but not my bones. i guess that's doable."

you smack him, knowing that it wouldn't even hurt. "i'm serious. besides, once i have enough money, i will be moving out of gotham. don't come here. please." you were miles away from moving out. you knew red hood knew that.

you did this to save yourself the hurt and regret, but as you saw him leave from the front door, you knew you caused yourself more hurt and regret than last time. jason was far away from the beginning. you had chances to get to know red hood better. used to have chances.

jason was dead. red hood was right in front of your eyes and interested to keep seeing you. you had messed up.

he would never come back.

the last time.

instead of wallowing in your heartbreak, it was time to give back to the community you grew up in. moving out was an impossible dream you gave up on. instead, you got more involved in elder homes and joined their knitting circles.

it had been a month since red hood was gone. you couldn't believe it had been an entire year since you saw him, on jason's death anniversary of all days. yes, you couldn't help but regret that you made another mistake. red hood knew about you and wanted to know you better, to the point where he broke into your house.

like clockwork, you went to go see jason's grave, finding out that the grave wasn't there anymore. it wouldn't be there anymore at the request of the wayne family.

you cried outside the gates of the cemetery, knowing that this wasn't where he was laid to rest. jason's real body was in wayne manor, not here. this was for the public.

with red hood gone, you had nothing left to look forward to. you were a dumbass.

"need a ride?" you thought you were hallucinating. you looked up with teary eyes and confirmed it was the red hood. except, his helmet was off. you stared at him, dumbfounded. he had dishevelled black hair and bright, blue eyes. you sniffled, letting him drag you to your feet. you shook your head.

"jason's grave isn't here."

you were clutching the flowers in your hands. the red hood took them from you and bowed, pink flushing his cheeks.

"yes, that's 'cause i'm here. thanks for the flowers."

you gaped at him. "you're jason? you mean your name is jason too?"

guess it checks out. red hood knew about your strange connection to jason todd so he didn't tell you his real name. he chuckled, pulling you close, pressing a gentle kiss on each of your glistening cheeks. if you weren't shocked, you probably would be ecstatic about this development.

"it's time you learnt more about jason todd rather than staring and let me learn about you, <y/n>. i have been looking forward to learning more about you."

//bonus//

jason had no idea about before the diner incident. he remembered the (y/n) from when he was robin, once they arrived at the cemetery. but, he didn’t remember anything from high school as he barely attended. then, his crush on (y/n) was born.

the batsiblings were tired of seeing jason delay his confession, so they threw him through the window. once jason took tim with him. this totalled the count - three times tim as casualty, one time jason and tim, six times jason. all the costs were billed to bruce wayne as 'civilian casualties' code for ‘of course we broke through the window. it’s the batmove to pick up chicks.'

[strawberry-cowmilk]

the brothers after accidentally making mc cry

mc's gender is not mentioned, not proof read

(did I do this before??)

content warnings: kind of mean/ concerning behavior for some of these men, crying

-----

Lucifer

he knows he messed up the second he sees you tear up and he wants to hug you and apologise but guess what his prideful self said

'stop crying mc, you're being ridiculous.' with his arms crossed

and what was it all for? lucifer was a little too stressed and took it out on you

he'd distance himself from you for a while before giving you flowers on a random tuesday afternoon in hopes you'd forgive him

Mammon

mammon immediately panics when he realises you're crying because of me

he reaches out to hold you and say 'I'm sorry' over and over again but then realises that's not the best move right now

after you've been alone for a while in your room mammon slides a note under the door saying 'you okay? can we talk'

if you say yes mammon apologises (while nearly crying himself) and buys you a whole car the next day

Leviathan

he's gonna hate himself for the next week

plus he thinks you're gonna hate him forever now

levi literally runs away from you after you start crying because he feels so bad and doesn't know what to do

about an hour later he comes back with his azuki-tan pillow, gives it to you, and then leaves again

if you tell him you forgive him he won't believe you for a moment

Satan

he's maybe a little mean about it and realises that after he said the little mean stuff

'look, mc, I'm very sorry but is this reaction really warranted for?' (hons thought everyone cries once per blue moon like him for a while there)

after realising those words only made it worse he decides to give you some space, he'll apologise properly after you've stopped crying

he also takes you to the street cats he regularly feeds if you want to see them

Asmodeus

oh no what did he do what if you hate him now? what if he messed up so badly that the mere sight of him is enough to make you feel revolted, distressed or afraid?

he's like 'nonono mc look it's fine, here I'm going to paint your nails'

asmo has trouble giving you space because he's so afraid of the possibility that you hate him now, but he does realise he needs to leave you alone

after what happened you have to tell him you forgive him because he might not approach you

Beelzebub

he instantly regrets getting mad over a slice of cake in the fridge

beel immediately apologises after spotting tear number one in your eyes

if you're okay with it he'll give you a big hug and will rub your back to help you calm down again

even if you tell him you're not upset anymore, beel doesn't fully believe you

this mistake of his will be haunting him for a long time, he keeps trying to 'win your trust back' by doing sweet things

Belphegor

'oh.. I'm sorry' and then leaves because he doesn't know what to do and he's ashamed of himself

belphie doesn't know when is a good time to check on you, or should he even check on you at all, does he buy you a gift?

because this man doesn't care too much when he upsets one of his brothers (other than beel) but when it's you? he can't sleep properly for the next week

in the end he does decide to get you a stuffed animal to really show you how sorry he is

[warriorofthought]

I did love you, always!

Summary: Bucky broke up with you but the Winter Soldier still loves you.

Word count: 3103

Warnings: sad, sentimental Feelings 

Winter Soldier x Reader

You and Bucky broke up recently, even though you always supported him, even through his Winter soldier phase. It didn't even take two weeks before he got together with Sharon. that made you angry, hurt, betrayed.

You were at Bucky’s house because you had to get your stuff, and you both began to argue again because of Sharon.

"At least she treats me like I'm somebody!" he snapped.

"Yeah, I do too but would she love you if you were the winter soldier?!" You yell back.

"Nobody loved me when I was the winter soldier!”

"I do, i did" you mumble and turn around to put clothes from the shelf in a box.

He stops and just stares at you. You can't tell if he heard it. You look at him. 

You stare at each other for a few seconds and you wonder whether it's even something to say now. 

You wait for him to reply, maybe you shouldn't have said anything, now that you realize you might have spoken out of impulse. 

He walks up to you. 

"What did you say?”

"you have heard me!" You say a bit annoyed.

"I love you, even when you change back into the Winter soldier. The winter soldier is not a complete monster, he is also loveable." You sigh.

"But that doesn't matter anymore" you shake your head disappointed and hurt.

He stares at you and seems to be thinking. 

His grip tightens on his fists. He's angry, frustrated, upset. 

Then he sighs.

"You don't know what you're saying and you're just saying this because you're upset." 

He seems to be thinking again, then he continues.

"If i was the winter soldier, you would hate me too.”

"I would not, i have seen you many times as the winter soldier and i didn't hate you, i love you it doesn't matter which one you are. The Winter soldier loves me, the same as you do. He wouldn't kill me." You say and finish up packing your clothes.

"How do you know?" he asks. He's curious now, maybe he's starting to reconsider.

"You don't know that. You say you love me no matter what, but I don't believe you. You're just saying it because you're angry. Because you can't stand me being with Sharon.”

"Yeah, I can't stand you being with Sharon." You snap.

"But I'm the only one that can change you back into Bucky when you go back into Winter Soldier, Sharon can't protect you from that, the Winter soldier, you. He will kill her." 

Before Bucky can say anything Sharon steps into the apartment, his new love.

You glare at Sharon, who's got her hands all over Bucky.

"She can protect herself, she's a trained SHIELD agent." Bucky is getting defensive now. 

"And I can protect her if she needs me to. She understands this. She's not afraid. We're in love, and she trusts me." 

Bucky's really falling for Sharon's charms now.

"Bucky, you don't need to pretend you love someone else, just because you are scared."  You say gentle.  " We both can manage that, we can work on that, together." 

He stays silent for a bit. 

"I'm not pretending anything. With her, it's..." you can hear the joy in his voice. 

"You don't know what it's like when I'm with her, to feel her touch, to hear her smile... It's different with her, I actually want to be with her.” 

You grab your last items and then walk to the front door. " I hope you won't regret that" you say and leave.

He lets you leave, knowing how stubborn you can be when you're upset. But he will regret it. He already does. 

He sits down on the couch in silence. He should go after you, he shouldn't have let you leave like this. 

But then Sharon comes and sits right next to him, putting her arms around his neck, clinging to him.

Timeskip (Three weeks later, you get a call from Sam, telling you Bucky changed back into the Winter soldier and that he is currently destroying the SHIELD base. Sams wants you to come quickly because nobody comes through to the Winter soldier or Bucky. You sigh but still go to the SHIELD base to see what is happening, you even see Sharon there but the Winter Soldier doesn't seem to like her. You stop beside Sam who looks happy to see you here.)

Sam smiles at you, relieved to see you. He knows you're one of the only people who Bucky would actually care to listen to. 

The Winter Soldier is destroying the SHIELD base, tearing things apart and shouting. 

Sharon's nearby, but Bucky seems to have forgotten about her.

"I thought he wouldn't get near Hydra again, that all of you didn't let him go destroying the hydra base as a mission. How wrong did go your last mission?" you say softly to sam.

Sam shrug his shoulders .

"He was on a mission to destroy a hydra base, the one right here, but apparently something went wrong."

You glance at the Winter Soldier. He's still breaking things and shouting. Sam sighs.

"Sharon's trying to talk to him, so far he's not interested..."

"No wonder, Winter doesn't like her" you grumble with a sigh.

Sam sights too.

"He's not usually this bad when he changes back" he explains.

"This time it's different because of... You know..."

"Because of our break up?" You ask gentle.

"Is he not happy with being with Sharon?"

Sam nods. "He's not happy, and he's not handling his emotions well. And the fact that he's still with Sharon... He's confused, he's trying to deny his feelings for you and it's... just making his mind a mess."

You sigh " I will handle that."

Then you step into the room where Sharon and the Winter Soldier are. Sharon looks like a mess.

The Winter Soldier doesn't even blink when you walk in. He's got a look of determination on his face, and his eyes are fixed on Sharon who is trying to talk to him, but Bucky's not interested.

Sharon's hair is all out of place, she looks scared and desperate.

"Winter, do you really need to be so mean to her?" You ask gently and walk closer.

The Winter Soldier stares at you, his eyes filled with rage and frustration.

"Maybe I do. Maybe I want to be mean to her."

Sharon looks at you, and at first it's relief, but she slowly understands that you're not going to defend her.

"Is it because Bucky wants to be with her and you don't?"

The Winter Soldier looks like he suddenly realizes something.

You notice that he's slightly distracted from the idea of hurting Sharon and actually looking at you.

He raises his voice.

"Bucky wants to be with Sharon, but I hate her..."

You slowly nod. But as you want to answer the jet sways a bit and you all stumble a little to the side as the jet tilts to the side.

You don't see how a few metal pipes threaten to fall on you and before that happens, the Winter Soldier is with you and protects you from the falling pipes with his metal arm.

You're shocked by his sudden change of behavior, and also by his sudden reaction. He protects you, making sure you're safe. His reaction is much quicker than yours, or anyone else's and it's clear that all his attention is now on you.

"Winter" you say lovely, your soft eyes meet his. He doesn't change back into Bucky but you see the love that the Winter Soldier has for you.

His eyes meet yours and you feel like he's looking into your soul. The love and affection in his eyes...

He's still standing in front of you, protecting you.

You can feel his warmth and his closeness.

Sharon is looking at you two, her look of desperation gone now, replaced by something else...

"Winter, thank you." You whisper softly.

He nods slightly, clearly understanding that you're thanking him.

Sharon's starting to look angry and jealous now. She's clearly noticed that he paid no attention to her, and was completely focused on you.

This time Sharon starts to mock you.

She points at you and laughs.

"He's just pretending to care about you. He doesn't love you, he doesn't even like you. He's with me, not with you!" it pains you to hear her say those things, to see the contempt in her eyes and hear the jealousy in her voice.

"Yeah, Bucky is in a relationship with you. But that doesn't mean that the Winter Soldier also wants that" you say calm.

Then you all stumble again as the jet swings in the other direction. Winter immediately stabilizes your stand.

You keep talking to him without even reacting to the movement or the danger. You know Winter will always have your back.

Sharon rolls her eyes and laughs.

"Do you really think he'll choose you over me? He needs someone in his life and you're not even there for him. He wants a real relationship, a real woman, not someone like you!"

“I don't care about your opinion, the only thing that is important is that Winter and even Bucky feels comfortable.”

She stares down at the ground, her jaw clenched and her face flushed with anger.

You wonder if she's realizing that her relationship with him isn't as secure as she thought…

Sharon laughs again.

"You're so stupid if you actually believe that. Just look at him! He's in love with me, not with you."

You notice her tone change from mocking to one filled with anger and jealousy.

The jet wobbles even more and Winter has to tighten his grip on you to keep both of you standing. The Winter Soldier keeps protecting you, making sure you don't fall and get hurt.

Before you can react Sharon points her gun at you, your eyes weiden slightly surprised that she would do that infront of everyone else. You even can hear Sam grasp surprised.

The Winter Soldier notices too and immediately raises his arm to block the bullet with his metal arm. 

His eyes flare when he realizes someone's pointing a gun at you and he won't let that happen. 

Sharon is surprised that the bullet doesn't hit you and glares at Bucky who is protecting you.

Sharon yells at you. Then Winter grabs you, you don't even manage to do something else and flee with you out of the big jet towards a helicopter.

The Winter Soldier moves quickly and efficiently, and before anyone can react he's managed to carry you towards a helicopter. 

You're stunned at his speed and agility, but you also notice how much he's paying attention to you. 

By now Sharon must've realized that she lost.

The Winter Soldier is in charge. Not Bucky. 

You can feel his warmth in your arms. His strength as he carries you to the helicopter and then lowers you in. He still stays protecting you, keeping you safe.

Sharon is behind the helicopter, still staring at you with jealousy and contempt but she no longer seems like the same person.

The Winter Soldier seems almost loving towards you, his anger turned into affection.

"Winter?, are you telling me, where we are going?" You ask and let him buckle up the seatbelt around your body and watch him start the helicopter.

The Winter Soldier is focused on starting the helicopter, and he doesn't respond for a bit. He looks at you and you notice his expression is different. The rage is gone.

He's thinking, and you also realize that he's actually considering what he's going to say for once. 

Then he finally speaks.

"We're going home.”

"home?" You mumble and watch him drive the helicopter away from SHIELD.

"Yes." his voice is even more gentle now but there is still the roughness in it, his expression has softened.

He focuses on flying the helicopter. 

"Home, and then we'll talk.”

Timeskip (A few hours later. He lands the helicopter on a farm that is his.)

The Winter Soldier lands the helicopter next to his Farmhouse. 

This is definitely his safe place, you can feel the peace and the comfort.

He turns around to look at you. 

"We need to talk.” You nod and sit down on the couch. The Winter Soldier also sits down in front of you, close enough that it feels like he wants to have physical contact with you. 

He is still in control, not Bucky.

So far everything is different from before, you can feel how much he's calmed down, how much he likes being this close to you. 

"I wanted to apologize…”

"for that what Bucky did? You can't control your other side, Winter. Bucky and you are both in this body, I don't know why Bucky suddenly stopped loving me but It's not your fault, Winter.”

He smiles slightly. Then he moves closer so that his leg is touching yours. His eyes are intense but soft, as if he's really paying attention to every little word you say. 

You have to resist the urge to move a little bit closer.

Then he replies.

"I know I can't control the other side, but I did hurt you.. and I'm sorry…”

You smile softly and cup the face of the Winter Soldier softly.

You slightly wish he would stay being the Winter Soldier, loving you further. You missed him so much, you don't care how rough his side that hydra had caused is because he always is so soft to you, only to you. Bucky himself will go back to Sharon. But this wish is unethical and mean of you to think. You sigh.

"I love you, i haven't stopped doing that.”

His expression softens even more as you cup his face. 

He feels your hand against his cheek, your fingers gently moving along his jawline. 

He leans his head just slightly to the side, leaning a little bit more into your touch.

His hand is moving, reaching out and he's just about to caress your hand, but then he stops, hesitating.

He bites his lip, his gaze lingering on your hand.

He is still the winter soldier, but he's definitely more in love with you than Bucky ever was…

"My Winter, my love. I have missed you so much." You say lovely and put your forehead against his, breathing his scent in. Your hand intertwined with his flesh hand.

The winter soldier doesn't reply, but his arm moves slightly, his fingers wrapping around your hand and holding it tightly. 

You are both very close and you can almost feel him wanting to draw you closer, pull you to him and bury his face into your neck, but he stops, resisting the urge.

His eyes are deep and passionate, he really missed you and his love for you is shining through them. He's breathing a little bit harder, and you can feel his heartbeat increasing.

"Tell me, do you know that i love you Winter, i love the Winter soldier, i even love you as Bucky. Especially, i love you, your heart, your soul. I don't care how the other sees you, I see you as something special.”

He squeezes your hand, as if you didn't even need to tell him, as if he always knew that you loved him.

Your words have reassured him though, and his heart beats a little slower, his breathing becomes more relaxed.

He wants to say it back to you, to tell you how much he loves you. 

But he's still struggling with his identity. He's still deciding which is the stronger side. 

"I love you too..." he whispers.

Your heart warms immediately, having missed to hear this words out of his mouth.

And suddenly, he pulls you closer. He leans his head against your shoulder and wraps his arms around you, his grip tight and loving. 

He smells like the farm, like open air and fresh grass. 

He's holding you, so close and protecting you.

He's the winter soldier, and he doesn't want to let you go.

“I hated what Bucky did to you, he feared things, but that doesn't give him the right to push you away, my lovely flower. I hated it that he tried to suppress me, hated it that he stayed with this woman. I don't like her. Sharon is not you, she doesn't have this glimmer in her eyes as you have when you look at me.”  his voice is rough but soft at the same time and it sends a shiver down your spine.

You hug him back and softly pet his back.

“Don't worry, we have enough time to figure this out.” You say lovely and lean your forehead against his.

He hugs you even tighter, burying his face in your neck, and breathing in your scent.

He has finally decided. The winter soldier is in control. Not Bucky. The moment he's been wishing for has finally come. 

He's not struggling with his identity anymore. He knows who he is.

His hand touches your face, gentle, caressing.

"I'm not letting you go. I don't want to share you with anyone anymore.”

His voice is filled with affection as he looks at you. 

"I've missed you. I've missed being with you. I've missed feeling you..." 

He leans his head against you again, and your breath is intermixed. 

Sharon definitely cannot compare to you in his eyes, she was always just a replacement for you. He doesn't even want to think about her right now. 

His arms are still around you, and your body is pressing against his. It feels so natural that you almost want to stay like this forever…

"I know she's not you." his voice is even rougher now, almost feral.

He presses his face into your neck, his lips just below your ear. 

"She's nothing compared to you... I hate her."

He holds you tighter and you can feel the pure hatred and possessiveness coming out of his every pore. 

This is the Winter Soldier's way to tell you how much you mean to him.

"I don't want to turn back into Bucky. I want to stay the Winter Soldier with you.”

“Winter, we will figure it out soon. Alright?” 

You feel him nod against you, then he moves his body on the sofa and quickly pulls you into his embrace.

You know someday you have to let the Winter Soldier change back into Bucky, but for now you can enjoy your love back in your arms, healing your heart.

Part 2

[lovetei]

first off, thank you so much for all the work you do for the fandom! your writing is amazing!

someone has probably requested this already but i just wanna request for a soulmate-reincarnation au, if its okay? like, they were MC's lover in the past and MC died, so they've been waiting and looking for them to reincarnate since then (it's been thousands of years or so) and then RAD happened and then they realized that MC is who they've been waiting for. that's all, haha

you can pick if it has angst or fluff or smut, or which character/s it will have

thank you again for your contribution to the fandom, i hope you have a lovely day!

After all that deranged smut, I've come back from the dead with some fluff

Update: I'm on Lucifer's part and the Fluff I'm planning took a dark turn, fortunately

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Soulmate-reincarnation universe in where they've lost you and won't let it happen again

Warnings: Grammatical errors, spelling errors, no proofreading, Mentions of death, Mentions of trauma, gruesome death, slight gore, Angst, possessive behavior

Versions: Demon brothers, Side Characters

Links: Masterlist

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LUCIFER

He can still remember the day you escaped his grasps

The day you stepped in front of Father and begged him "No, not him please! Don't kick him our, I'm begging you!" You pleaded.

Yet, he can't do anything about it as he watch the angels pull you inside their father's room.

He waited outside, pacing around in circles hoping, praying to any being out there to keel you safe.

And when the guard let him in, it's almost as if he can breath freely

Not until he saw you, face planted on the white marble floor as you lay on top of your own pool of blood.

Wings ripped out and in his father's hands

His knees weakened as Father handed him your wings

"Remember them Lucifer, you destroyed them."

Is the last thing Father said before the floor beneath you cracked

"Lucifer..." You mumbled out with a smile as you each out for him with your bloody hands

That is before you fell and died

He can still remember every detail like he's watching a movie

He still can't forget you, he never will

That is until he was viewing the possible candidates for the exchange program and he came across your application

And all so suddenly, nothing is important anymore

That's what he was thinking as he burnt all the other application forms

He'll get you back

No matter what it takes.

MAMMON

The time where Father caught them rebelling against the heavens, he'll never forget it

Not because it was the day where he fell

But because it was the day he found out how cruel the kind can be

How the kind made him choose, "Save yourself or sacrifice for your love?" Father looked at him then looked at you

With a spear in his hand, he didn't expect what you did next.

Running to Father without a single drop of hesitation and plunging the spear to your heart

Plunging his spear to your heart

His eyes filled with hatred and regret, his body numb with pain can only drop to the ground

Before his screams echoed and shook the she realm

Screams of pain that will never subside, or so he thought

He found out about this exchange student plan

And he saw you, with a different face, with a different hair color

It doesn't matter

It's you

And maybe, he did pull some strings and a few tricks for you to be picked

But when he saw how your eyes softened when you look at him in a room full of other men

He didn't have any regrets

LEVIATHAN

You fought alongside them, beside him

Not because you support their ideology or anything

Just because he's there

He got hurt

And you swear you'll hunt down anyone who hurt him

And he'll do the same for you

So when he saw an arrow pierced your body and you fell

His wings lost its power and he fell with you

It was late when he realized what was happening and he flew as fast as he can to catch you

And he managed to before you landed straight to a flat rock near the shore

And so when he had you in his arms

He gently flew you down to the same rock and embraced your almost-lifeless body

Rocking you back and forth gently as if he was putting a child to sleep

And when you finally closed your eyes

He felt the last string of sanity snap and he looked up at the sky where the angels are fighting

And without a thought the warm and calm water was turned violent and drowned everything in its path

But sometimes, after the war, he would come back to the same shore

Where Mammon found him and informed him "They're back." He smirked at Leviathan

Of course, they are

He made sure to tell Lucifer he'll drown to death every other applicants they accepted until they admitted you.

And when he saw you standing there, frightened

He knew you can't remember him

But he's willing to take small steps with you until you remembered him again

SATAN

Like an idiot, he fell in love with you

After all the hard work his brothers put in his head, trying to tell him not to love a mortal

He didn't listen

He would sneak out of Devildom and would meet you in the forest where you built your own small home

Where he saw you age until you can't even get out of bed

The home in where he sat beside your bed as he read you your last book an dpromsied you that he'll be beside you for all eternity, waiting for you.

The home in where he buried you in the backyard and placed lovely flowers on top

He tried so hard to get over you

He tried so hard to ease the pain in his heart for thousands of years

Until one day, he can't hold it in anymore and came back to your home

The rain mixing with soil, staining his hands as he dugged your grave with his bare hands and was surprised when he didn't see your remains

And then when he came back to the house of lamentation

When Lucifer informed him about the program something came up in his head

With his hands still stained with soil and his clothes wet from the rain, he digged through the file of applicants and saw...

Saw no one that resembles you

Until Lucifer told him that they've already picked an applicant

And held out a paper with a picture that looks just like you

The smile that crept up his face was desperate yet filled with love

He snatched the paper away from his hands and went to his room

Dropping on his knees on the ground as soon as he entered the room

He hugged the piece of paper and said "It won't be long till you're back to me..."

ASMODEUS

People often thought of you as nothing, honestly

People thought that Asmo didn't even love you

Or that he managed to move on soon after you died

But that's not how he views it

He views your death as his death

He promised himself that you both will love each other like swans

And the moment you died, he was ready to die too

The way he remembers how your fresh blood dripped off his arms

The way he remembers himself pointing the dagger that killed you on his throat

The way he remembered you saying "Don't... I'll come back." as you gently held his face and placed your lips on his

That was the only reason he kept his life

And when he remembered this strange, suffocating hope when Lucifer mentioned the program

It took every strand of his patient to not dig through the files and look for you

Because he remembered how much you believed in destiny, he believed that's what made you beautiful

The way that you believe that if it's what the universe wants, it's what will happen

So he bit his cheek and clawed his palms

The moment he was walking in circles waiting for this student, his heart filled with hope that it was filling his lungs

The moment he saw you standing there, seemingly looking for something, someone

He instinctively said "I'm here... Love..." as he raised his hands, the blood from his fingers from biting his nails dripping down

And then he went numb

When he saw your eyes soften and be filled with love

Because he knew, even the universe wants you to be with him

In every life.

BEELZEBUB

You did your best, he knows it

Liliths death, he must admit, made him turn against Father and think about rebellion

But your death made him act on it

You begged Father to just give him and his brothers one more chance after disrespecting him

Father who said to accept it came up with one condition

And that's for your life

As soon as he over heard about ghat condition

He came out of his hiding and tried to attack father but you were held hostage

You were sitting on the marble floor with all the spears not pointed at the intruder, him, but to you, his most prized possession.

He can never forget how heavgy his heart is during that time

The way he can't even breath freely

"I was a fool..." Was what you said after you realized that even if you offered your life, Father will still kick them out.

And so you smiled at him "I will hold the virtues and give you some time to prepare..." then you opened your wings despite the spears piercing it.

"ESCAPE!" Was the last thing you said before you swung your wings and had the spears piercing their necks.

Then all he can remember is how him and his brothers managed to kill almost all the angels and archangels

But when they're about to enter the virtues domain, they stopped

And saw your head on the ground

The virtues praised you, saying how much love they felt as they fought with you

Now, it's still fresh on his mind

As soon as he saw you appear from the portal, unconscious

He was embracing your body as if wishing for you to remember him

BELPHEGOR

He was gone, he turned bat shit insane

People might think he's okay

But the brothers knew better

For the past thousand of years, there's not a single day where he didn't spoke your name

He's comparing you to every girl they tried to introduce to him, "MC was prettier", "MC was better" and more

It's time to establish his position even more, and he can do it the fast way by marrying a noble

But even after introducing all women, married or not, not him

His answer was only, "MC is the only one that can be my bride."

The council argued over this, MC is dead, they said

But Belphegor is not one to give up easily

During the meeting about this exact matter, he proposed a deal

"If you can fulfill my only condition, I promise to secure my position as the avatar of sloth and the guaranteed success of the exchange program."

Everyone's ears perked at his suggestion, naturally, they asked, what is this condition?

Then he simply held up a form containing your profile

"Bring my wife to Devildom."

[buckevantommy]

alternate 8x06 where Buck doesn't race ahead:

They go to the movie. They share popcorn and hold hands and Buck watches a captivated Tommy more than the screen. He's thinking about date nights where they don't have to worry about two cars or parking. He's thinking about going to sleep next to Tommy and waking up beside him instead of one of them rushing back to their place for clothes or bc they have a shift soon. He's thinking about the drawer he gave Tommy turning into half a closet and all of Tommy's things in his space becoming their space..

..and then he remembers: Tommy has a garage with a carlift and engine parts and a muay thai setup. Tommy has furniture. Tommy has a yard and a garden and trees. Tommy has a house.

Buck turns his attention back to the movie. Now he's thinking about the illogical nature of asking Tommy to move into the loft: it's not fair to Tommy and also it's not the best idea. He doesn't know what the best idea is, yet, and maybe he won't know until he talks to Tommy.

Because that's where he went wrong in the past: moving in with girlfriends without actually talking about it first, it just sort of happened or was expected. and they all left him. He doesn't want Tommy to leave him. They've been together six months and haven't talked about the future. Buck is thinking about the future now so he needs to talk to Tommy - see where he's at and how he feels.

Back at the loft after the movie, in Buck's bed after sex, Tommy can sense Buck's restless mind. He checks in, because he always does, and Buck hesitates. Then asks: "Do you ever think about the future?"

And Tommy says sure, so Buck presses for details, curious, and then it's Tommy's turn to hesitate. But he mentions some stuff about work - flying certain crafts, heading up a training program, a few bucket list items, but all in all just keep doing a job he loves and keep renovating his little house or maybe there's a little holiday cabin that needs some work.

Nothing about Buck. Nothing about a partner or a family. Buck's heart does something funny in his chest, something uncomfortable, and his nerves kick in properly.

"What about you?" Tommy asks, and Buck swears he tenses under him.

"Captaincy, one day, I hope. I travelled a lot in my youth so I don't really have the bug for that anymore, but I was alone then. I think I'd wanna go places if I wasn't alone. And I don't wanna live here forever, obviously." He means the loft, but he's not closed off to the idea of living outside LA. And since he has no self preservation, he adds: "And.. you." He doesn't say mention getting married or being a father, because that feels like too much all at once.

His nerves are having a field day as Tommy remains quiet.

Buck leans up, terrified and desperate to see Tommy's face. "Do you.. see me in your future?"

They're naked and pressed together under the tangled sheets. Tommy's hand has stilled where it was tracing soothing patterns on Buck's arm. It isn't right. The air feels charged in a bad way, like waiting for lightning to strike.

"Evan.."

"I love you." He doesn't want to say it like this, not for the first time, but it suddenly feels urgent, like tommy has to know right now and maybe it'll change the way he just said his name - like an apology, like a regret.

"You don't love me. You love the idea of me."

And that- that's not true. And it hurts. And Tommy's face has fallen. "No, I-"

Tommy sits up, dislodging Buck, and swings his legs over the side of the bed.

"Wait- where are you going?" Tommy's gathering his things. He's getting dressed. Anxiety and dread swirl in the pit of Buck's stomach.

"I'm going home."

Home. It hurts to hear. "You don't have to leave-" Buck knows he's pleading, he doesn't care. He scrambles off the bed, tugging on his boxers as Tommy reaches for his shirt.

"I think it's for the best."

"No, it's not- we can talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about."

Buck stills. Tommy's holding his jacket, standing at the top of the stairs, trying to school his features to hide his emotions. He does that. He hides things. "What's happening right now?"

For a brief moment, tommy lets devastation show on his face, before it's tucked away behind a mask.

"I thought.." He doesn't know what he thought. He'd hoped Tommy felt the same, that they were on the same page. Six months in and he can already picture a life with Tommy.

"I'm sorry."

Sorry you thought this was more than what it was. Buck feels sick. His heart is stuttering. "Tommy-"

"Goodnight, Evan."

It feels like Goodbye, and Buck can't find the words to make Tommy stay before he's disappearing down the stairs and the loft door is closing behind him.

Sometimes lightning strikes the same place twice. Maybe it's connected to the string of bad luck that's followed him his whole life. Maybe he's jinxed, or cursed. Or maybe it's his own fault, his choices acting as a conductor for the kind of carnage most people only experience once.

[sunny44]

I can’t stay

Pairing: Lando Norris x Fem!reader

Warnings: discussion, casual relationship, ants

Summary: Y/n and Lando confront their feelings for each other as they struggle with the complexities of their casual relationship. Despite their initial agreement, emotions run high, leading to difficult decisions and heartache.

Next Part

As Lando's fingers comb through my hair to rest at the back of my head, he pulls me in and leaves a kiss on my forehead, and in that moment I feel a sense of comfort and happiness.

Until it's all ruined by a single sentence.

"I have to go." he murmurs softly.

I understand the reasons behind his departure, the need to maintain boundaries and keep emotions in check, but it doesn't stop me from feeling disappointed. And I knew I shouldn't feel this way since we agreed it would be something casual since we both ended our relationships at the same time and decided to find comfort in each other.

But over time things changed and I knew I was on a dangerous path of feelings but in the beginning I thought it was just because he helped me get over my ex, but in the end it was just me falling in love with him.

“Why can't you spend the night?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper, hoping he'd reconsider and just for one night I could feel like he was really mine.

Lando's expression changes, a mixture of resignation and determination.

“You know why.” he replies, his tone gentle, but firm.

"But what harm would it do?" I pressed, searching his eyes for a hint of hesitation and that he would reconsider staying. “Just tonight.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair.

“It's complicated." Feeling a wave of frustration, I sit up on the couch.

“We've been through bigger complications.” I argue, pleading for him to see things from my point of view.

"It's not the same." Lando insists, his voice tinged with frustration.

"Why not?" you counter, unable to understand his reluctance.

Lando pauses, his gaze searching yours.

“I just... I don't want to complicate things further. I don't want another relationship like the last one I had.”

"But it won't be the same, I'm not like your ex." Lando hesitates, his expression conflicted.

“But I don't want it to end up like her, I care too much about you for us to end up as mere strangers.” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

My heart skips a beat with his confession, emotions swirling inside me.

“And you think pushing me away is the best option?" I whisper, tears welling up in my eyes.

Lando reaches out to wipe away my tears, his touch gentle and comforting.

"I'm sorry.” he murmurs, his eyes filled with regret. "I just... I don't want to hurt you."

“Too late for that don't you think?” I asked ironically and he sighed.

“I'm leaving.” He says standing up.

"I don't want you to leave." I admit, my voice trembling with emotion.

Lando hugs me, holding me close.

“I know.” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "But sometimes... it's better this way."

As he reluctantly pulls away, I watch him gather his things, a feeling of sadness washing over him.

“If you walk out that door it's over.” I give him my ultimatum and he was with his hand on the doorknob and he leaned his head on the door.

“Please don't do this.”

“I'm not doing anything, the decision is yours.” I sniffed and wiped the tears from my face. “I can't do this anymore, I can't keep being with you and acting like we're a couple just for you to leave me at the end of the night and show up at my door weeks later to repeat the same thing.”

“Y/n…”

“It's up to you Lando.” He was still with his back to me and I sat on the couch.

And seconds later my heart shattered into thousands of pieces when I heard the sound of the door opening and then closing.

Hey guys, hope you like this chapter.

This will have a part 2 so if you guys want to be on the tag list, leave a comment here so I’ll tag you for the next one

[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 24 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: mentions of drugs (not graphic), depictions of smoking, explicit language, SUGGESTIVE THEMES (jungkook is a teasing little shit, there's also a Shower Scene at the end), angst, fluff, SLOW BURN

words: 23k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 24 ► soon, you'll be nothing but a memory and i won't keep you company when everything falls apart for you

When you woke up next to Jungkook on your final morning in London, the sun was already high, casting patterns shaped dangerously like his sleeping features on the walls of his hotel room.

You thought you had just closed your eyes two minutes ago, but you felt very well-rested, albeit not fully convinced that you were conscious yet. Jungkook was asleep next to you, your hands still locked together and your bodies so intertwined that it would take at least a few minutes for you to disengage from each other.

Naturally, you thought this was another one of those powerful dreams that would stay with you for the next few days after you woke up because of how much you wished it was real. But then you checked your phone, noticing several missed calls, and your mind finally sobered.

Jungkook stirred when he felt you reach for your phone, and he realised right away that your morning together had ended before it even began.

“I was hoping we’d sleep in,” he mumbled, startling you as you tried to quietly climb out of bed.

Your determination to start working melted at the sound of his groggy, somewhat uncertain voice, and you turned back. His eyes flickered open and met yours briefly before succumbing to heaviness again.

“It seems like we have, actually,” you said, lingering on the edge of the bed, and forgetting, almost, that the vibrating sound in the background of your focus came from your phone.

“It doesn’t count if we wake up and get out of bed right aw—” He paused to yawn, then rolled onto his back, looking at you through half-closed lids. “Sleeping in means we stay in bed, and—well, there are things we could do.”

He struggled to keep his eyes open—clearly, the only thing you’d do if you stayed in the room was actually sleep—but you couldn’t help but smile at his effort.

Just as you were about to respond, Jungkook pushed back the covers and your eyes drifted down to the angry red nail marks on his chest. He met your gaze and followed it downwards, raising his eyebrows before breaking into a grin.

“Hmm,” he mused. You already knew what his next words would be but couldn’t stop him in time. “These are exactly the things I was talking ab—”

“I know,” you finally cut in. “I figured.”

He returned his gaze to yours, cocking a tired eyebrow. “Yet you’re rushing out of bed?”

You lifted your phone and the display lit up with multiple notifications. He noticed, with his breath hitching enthusiastically in his throat, that your eyes were filled with regret. You didn’t want to go.

“Duty calls,” you said.

He looked away and muttered disdainfully, “I’m your duty.”

“Exactly,” you replied, smiling at the childish entitlement in his voice. “Your band is the reason I’m getting out of bed.”

You took your foot off the mattress and stood up properly, pausing as Jungkook groaned—deliberately, of course, to make you think he would say something else and have you stay in the room longer while you waited for him to speak.

To be perfectly honest, though, you didn’t linger in the room because you thought he still had something to say. You lingered because you wanted to stay here until you absolutely couldn’t anymore.

“Okay,” he finally said, looking up at you again. “I promise that our relationship won’t interfere with your career. But I really do wish you’d stayed with me for the rest of the morning.”

It took you considerable effort—and you would attribute this to professionalism when you inevitably started doubting yourself later—to resist the temptation to climb back into bed.

“I wish I could stay, too,” you said—firmly, so he wouldn’t try to persuade you, because you knew that he’d eventually succeed. “But I’ll see you after the show.”

“Before that,” he said.

You nodded. “If we have time.”

“No,” he disagreed immediately. “We’ll make time.”

Your smile grew with affection and warmth.

“Alright,” you said. “I’ll see you a little later then, yeah? Will you be alright for a few hours?”

He exhaled very theatrically. “I suppose I’ll live.”

“Good,” you leaned over the bed to press a soft kiss to his cheek, “I love you.”

He reached out to interlace your hands for just a second before you pulled away again, bringing your knuckles to his lips. “I love you.”

Reluctantly parting from his warmth, you finally left the room, and Jungkook whined quietly to himself before starting his day as well. He knew his uncontrollable yearning would drive him to the brink of insanity even before the band’s rehearsal later today, so he was desperate for company until then.

He took a quick shower, then crossed the corridor to Minjun’s room where Minjun was binge-watching Evangelion, and dragged him outside for a coffee and a cigarette.

It was a beautiful morning: a little cold, but unusually sunny after yesterday’s storm. The rain had quickly become his favourite scent, and Jungkook took a deep breath as it lingered in the air. It was laced with faint traces of wet grass, and there was something else, too. Something woody, yet light, with heavy undertones of you.

He and Minjun settled in the shade outside of the hotel. Jungkook lit his cigarette, then passed his lighter to his friend and looked around.

The garden behind him was impressive. He hadn’t noticed the peonies before, but as soon as he did, he remembered bringing bright pink and gently lilac bouquets for you before your dates. You didn’t have a favourite flower, but he’d discovered that peonies lasted the longest in your dorm room, so he continued to get them for you.

He realised with a sigh that having Minjun here wasn’t much of a distraction, not even when he brought up Sid. Everywhere he looked this morning, he still thought of you.

“Oh, shit!” Jungkook cried suddenly, pushing his cigarette to the corner of his mouth as he spoke. His exclaim distracted the two of them from an anxious discussion about all that had to happen today. “Look.”

Minjun looked at him first, then followed his gaze to the street, where a Volkswagen Beetle was driving by at an extraordinarily slow pace. He wasn’t sure if Jungkook was amused by the car model or its speed.

“Hmm?” he asked. “At the car?”

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. “It’s the exact colour of her eyes.”

“Her eye—Jesus Christ,” Minjun groaned, nearly choking on the smoke of his cigarette. “Do you see what I’m doing right now?”

Jungkook did not tear his eyes away from the car as it inched closer to the intersection at the end of the street. “No offence, man, but I really couldn’t care le—”

“I am cringing,” Minjun informed him anyway. “You made me cringe.”

Jungkook continued to watch the Beetle with an alien fascination that Minjun could not understand. He thought that Jungkook looked as if he was reliving some sort of a dream, with this wistful, melancholy smile on his face—or he was stuck in an unfathomable, endless déjà vu.

“I’m serious, though,” Jungkook said after a moment, a deep exhilaration in his voice. “The exact colour.”

Minjun shook his head, half disbelieving, half resigned. He was not a doctor, and he would never claim to have any medical knowledge, but even his amateur eye could recognise lovesickness when he saw it.

“You are so fu—” he started to say, but did not get to the end of this diagnosis that, in his humble opinion, would have perfectly described the state that his friend was in right now.

Jungkook blew out the smoke with a heavy—and violent, too—groan, and it cut Minjun off. “I love her so much.”

“We know!” Minjun said, exasperated. His teeth dug into the filter of his cigarette. “We can tell. All of us. Now if you try to tell me that that cloud over there, above the hotel, kind of looks like her, I swear to God.”

“Please.” Jungkook scoffed but still glanced at the sky. “Clouds don’t look like—oh, you know what, maybe that one over there kind of does. When she wears her hair up, and—”

“I am going to slap you,” Minjun interjected, “if you don’t get yourself together right this second.”

The Beetle had finally turned on the left turn signal as it reached the end of the road next to the two of them. Jungkook lowered his eyes and smiled at the vehicle again.

“I’ve never felt more together,” he said, smoke passing through his lips.

“And I’ve never felt more like a third wheel,” Minjun retorted. “And it’s only you and me here.”

Jungkook grinned dreamily, following the car with his gaze.

“You’re not even listening to me, are you?” Minjun asked.

“Not really.”

He sighed and turned away. “Hmm. Of course not.”

The Beetle finally disappeared down the street and out of their sight. And now, with no new reminders of you in his immediate vicinity, Jungkook realised that he missed you too much to merely stand here, and that the company he had did not matter as long as it wasn’t you. He finished his cigarette in two quick drags and pulled out his phone.

Minjun knew exactly who he was texting without having to ask. And he certainly did not have to ask who had texted him back when his phone lit up not even ten seconds later.

You and Jungkook were both terrible—almost unbearable at this point, really—and Minjun was very glad that you had found your way back to each other. He didn’t think the world could have handled more of the two of you alone.

When you arrived at the venue a few hours later to see Jimin before the band’s soundcheck, you ran into the members of the band outside. They’d gone out after their rehearsal and ended up right in the middle of a commotion outside the building.

The sight surprised you: crowds of people had gathered around the venue, chatting, waving and jumping as soon as they spotted the band. Although this was Rated Riot’s second show in London, it seemed as though twice as many people were queuing outside today.

You kept your distance but stayed to watch the beaming members stop occasionally for an autograph, a selfie, or a quick conversation as they made their way past their fans. You remained vigilant in case anyone in the crowd decided to cause trouble, although it didn’t seem likely. Everyone was just excited.

Just then, right before you got lost in the thrilled faces around you, you heard Jungkook gasp somewhere in the crowd.

Alarmed, you turned around to find him and caught Hoseok’s shocked expression over the back of Jungkook’s head. Someone had unexpectedly wrapped their arms around the vocalist in a very intense hug, taking him off guard. But Jungkook’s surprise quickly turned into appreciative laughter as he patted the person on the back and stepped away, nodding at something they were saying.

Their interaction seemed harmless, but a crowd began to gather around Jungkook and Hoseok, and you were worried about the people pushing each other. You reached for your phone in your jacket to call Mick and alert the security just to be safe, but paused when you overheard the conversation the boys were having with their fans.

“And good riddance!” someone was saying. “We saw that you guys banned Sid from your shows. We’re so glad you’re finally free.”

Excited shrieks of agreement rippled through the crowd. Jungkook turned his head to look at you, leaving Hoseok to handle the fans’ praise on his own while Yoongi and Taehyung signed autographs nearby. When you met Jungkook’s eye, the surprise on his face mirrored yours.

Maggie’s post had made the precise impact you’d hoped for; everyone had seen the blacklist.

We’re so glad you’re finally free.

It occurred to you that neither you, nor Jungkook, nor any of your friends had ever been truly alone with your hatred for Sid, because Sid hadn’t just messed with your lives. He’d messed with absolutely everyone around you. You assumed as much—he was insufferable—but hearing others reaffirm just how much they despised Sid still felt comforting. It felt energising, too.

You’d be finished with him today, finally.

Feeling reinvigorated, you informed Mick to keep an eye on the crowds and headed inside. Jimin had needed your help, but by the time you arrived, he’d already resolved the problem himself. He shuffled you out of the door instead, to fetch him some coffee for “being late to rescue me from the agony of toggling the amps on and off.”

Laughing, you walked back out, making a note to grab a few chocolate-chip cupcakes, too—for Seokjin, because he had looked dangerously pale and wide-eyed when you ran into him at the door as Jimin yelled out his coffee order at you.

You didn’t expect to see Jungkook until the end of his show later that night, and you felt another wondrous thrill in your stomach at the thought: this would all be over by then. You could finally stop dreading what awaited you next. Really, even your upcoming meeting with the lawyers from the label seemed like a walk in the park on a late spring afternoon compared to Sid. You almost couldn’t wait for it.

But then as soon as the band finished their soundcheck, Jungkook surprised you by sneaking into the dressing room where you were working on emails, your forgotten coffee already cold. He stood there, in the very middle of the room, grinning at you until you finally raised your head.

“Oh—shit,” you removed your earpods, “w-why are you here?”

He shrugged his shoulders. A few strands of his hair were stuck to his forehead; he looked as though he’d already performed the first half of the show instead of merely preparing for it.

“Wanted to check in,” he said. “You ready?”

He was asking about Sid, and you placed your laptop on the side table by the couch, making room for him next to you.

“Yeah,” you said. “Still got a few hours to go. Jude hasn’t called us yet, but we’re—we’ll be fine.”

Jungkook sat down next to you. He couldn’t remember the details well, but he assumed that Minjun and Jude had already left for their part of the plan. Now he was nervous to hear that their plan hadn’t even begun yet; what if Jude had a change of heart?

“Yeah?” he asked, despising how many tinges of uncertainty he heard in his own voice. “You sure?”

“Of course,” you said, glancing at the door before turning back to him. “Uh, listen, are you sure you can be here? You have an interview in ten minutes.”

He reclined on the couch and shrugged again.

“Well, I still have ten minutes,” he said. “The guys are busy with their instruments, but I’m good.”

You nodded, and the conversation came to an awkward halt. You wanted to steer the discussion away from Sid, but he was the elephant in the room and he had grown large enough to smother you.

“I’m, uh—I’m thinking,” Jungkook said after a minute, “what if the plan doesn’t work? I know we said we’d do something else, but—I mean, what if the police don’t arrive in time, and Sid senses the trap?”

You hoped it wouldn’t come to that, because there was nothing else you could do to get rid of Sid in the immediate future. If he realised that something was wrong tonight, he’d never lower his guard like this again.

“I—well, I have a Plan B,” you said.

Jungkook was surprised. “Yeah? What’s that?”

You turned away. Really, you did not have any backup plans. You just wanted to stop Jungkook from biting into his lip ring before he ripped it off.

“Remember how we talked about you visiting me in jail?” you said, keeping a straight face. “I’ll just—”

He groaned. “You’re not going to kill Sid.”

“Why not?” you moaned and your exaggerated tone finally elicited a chuckle from him.

“Because I need you with me,” he said.

“Maybe we can make it seem like someone else did it,” you continued, encouraged by the amusement in his eyes. “Is there anyone else you hate as much as him?”

He shook his head. “No one comes even close.”

“Hmm.” You nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe if I just beat him up really bad, but don’t actually kill him, they won’t lock me up for long?”

He was grinning. “You’re not beating him up.”

“I’d be willing to do it for the band, you know.”

“Oh, for the band,” he echoed, draping an arm over the cushion behind you. “Romantic. Makes me feel real special.”

He seemed much more relaxed now than when he first came here, and your heart remembered how to beat again at the sight of his smile.

“Look,” you said, raising your hands, “I even wore extra rings today, for a more long-lasting effect.”

He snorted as you showed him the jewellery on your fingers, and placed his hand on yours, bringing it down to your knee.

“You’re not beating him up,” he reiterated.

“Come on,” you pressed on as he locked his fingers with yours. “You knocked out his tooth, so I have to do something similar. Otherwise, it’s just embarrassing. The girls will never let me live this down if I don’t land one good punch.”

Jungkook started to chuckle—the image of your sharp skull-shaped ring leaving a mark on Sid’s cheek was very satisfying—but then your words sunk in, and his expression soured.

“Wait,” he said, leaning forward and furrowing his brows, “the girls are in on this?”

You frowned in response to his frown.

“Of course, they are,” you replied. “Why are you surprised?”

“I mean,” he looked away, assessing your friends in his mind, “I’m not surprised about Maggie. But isn’t Luna usually more practical in these situations?”

“She’s practical until she’s had enough,” you said. “And she’s had enough.”

“Ah,” he said, leaning back and looking down at your intertwined hands.

He appeared to be considering something as his thumb gently traced the side of your index finger, and you got a frightening thought that you could take down a lot more assholes than just Sid—you could even tie them up and keep them in some mouldy basement—if it meant that Jungkook could sit next to you, humming peacefully under his breath as he held your hand in his.

It dawned on you just then that he wasn’t just your weakness, he was your everything. And you loved him so much that it was dangerous.

“Well,” he finally said, “if I have Taehyung and Rue with me, it might be more fun to visit the three of you in prison. We could make a little road trip out of it.”

You laughed, leaning into him as you did, and he realised that he really only had very few worries left—and none of them were about Sid.

“That’s the spirit!” you said. “I’ll see you in the courtroom.”

He released your hand, so he could wrap an arm around your shoulders and pull you into his chest.

“No, you won’t,” he said, planting a kiss on your temple. His heart stuttered through a few clumsy beats when you leaned into him again, resting your hand on his chest. “I love you.”

You raised your head to meet his gaze, and he realised he was wrong before. The Beetle outside the hotel wasn’t the exact colour of your eyes, not really. But his heart was; it soaked up the shades of your touch and painted itself after you.

“I love you,” you said. “But you have to go back to your band.”

He ignored that and leaned in to touch your lips with his. The quick kiss unexpectedly turned deeper—really, he had no say in that, his impulse control lived a life of its own lately—when he moved his head and tasted the caramel from your coffee on your tongue.

You knew you were on a tight schedule, but you found yourself giving in to him for just a moment. You brought one of your hands to the side of his face, and you felt, right away, what your touch did to him. Jungkook shifted on the couch to reach you better, his kisses growing more urgent, more eager, more impossible and even impractical—and that wasn’t fair, because, with his mouth against yours, there was nothing more meaningful than this in the world.

You pulled back, breathless, but with a smile that imprinted itself right in his mind, and Jungkook nodded, understanding the look in your eyes.

“Right,” he murmured, standing up before he lost his resolve. “I have places to be. Things to do. Would help a lot if I knew what places and what things those were, but, uh—I’ll figure it out.”

Your laughter was light and absolutely captivating. “Maybe your band can help with that?”

“Right,” he said. “My band.”

He lingered, scanning the walls and appearing lost in thought, and your chest was so full from simply being in the same room with him that you couldn’t tell him to go again. Slowly, you stood from the couch and your movement snapped him back to reality. He turned to face you and swallowed before speaking.

“Come find me as soon as the police leave with Sid’s ass,” he said.

“If our plan works, you’ll be in the middle of the encore,” you reminded him.

“You don’t have to jump on the stage,” he said. “Just give me a signal or something.”

“What kind of a signal?”

Your question wasn’t entirely serious, but Jungkook took it very seriously.

“A massive banner,” he decided, “saying ‘we’re free.’”

The image of the fans outside the venue crossed your mind again, and you felt yourself smile. You were certain they would have appreciated the banner as well.

“Hmm. Not very classy, though,” you said.

“When was I ever classy?” he countered. He looked about ready to demonstrate his lack of refinement, and you cut in before he could give any examples to support his claim.

“Alright,” you said. “I’ll just come to the side of the stage and give you a nod, yeah? Then you’ll know we did it.”

You placed a hand on his shoulder as you spoke, and, naturally, he agreed with everything you said.

“Okay,” he replied. “That’s good enough.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm. Just be careful,” he added, and you noted with disappointment that his casual demeanour had returned to a more serious tone. “Don’t let him get under your skin.”

You already missed the ease in his voice, and it made you regret that the two of you were in a situation where you could only speak lightly at short intervals before inevitably returning to what awaited you. You could not wait to never bring up Sid again.

“I won’t,” you said. “That spot’s reserved for you.”

His face immediately brightened, and you found yourself mirroring his expression. He stepped closer to you, the shimmering in his eyes fervent enough to send sparks to your chest.

“Hmm.” He reached out to run his fingers over the edge of your jaw. “What other spot is reserved for me?”

You scowled but did not pull away from his touch. “I’ll consider answering that when you sound less like a frat boy.”

He grinned, not the least bit discouraged. “Keeping me on my toes. I like that.”

“You have to go,” you replied, suppressing your smile so as not to encourage him. “The rest of the band is about to start their interview. Yoongi will have your head.”

“Kiss me and I’ll go,” he replied, his voice softer now that his face was so close to yours.

“Oh,” you snickered despite yourself, “we’re not doing that again.”

“We won’t have to if you kiss me.”

You shook your head and gave him a warning look—but then you closed the distance between you anyway. You’ve learnt your lesson from the last time at the park, and there was no point in arguing anyway; it was just you and him here, and you were rapidly running out of time.

Your lips were overwhelmingly soft and he relaxed into your touch in a way that he only could if you were as close to him as you were now. But you pulled back all too soon.

“Go now,” you whispered—not meaning it at all. You tried again, but your words had even less conviction this time, “go.”

He heard you but refused to pull away, his lips finding yours for just one more kiss.

“I’m going,” he murmured, turning every syllable into a slow, gentle caress. “Good luck.”

“You, too,” you replied, slowly pulling back and stopping his heart for a split-second when you reached over to move a strand of his hair from his face. “We’ll be okay.”

Jungkook nodded and stepped back reluctantly. As he made his way towards the door, some unseen force suddenly tugged at his arm, and he stopped. Pivoting on his heel, he returned to you to press another quick kiss to your amused lips—the last last one—before finally tearing himself away from you.

Closing the door of the dressing room behind himself, he abruptly remembered an ancient legend that his grandmother had told him—about Orpheus and Eurydice. And he knew, without any doubt whatsoever, that if he had to walk away from you without looking back so that the two of you could live, you would both perish.

He would always turn back to look at you one last time.

Rated Riot proceeded with their scheduled interviews in the waiting area backstage, leaving you to find another quiet corner, away from the intriguing “most likely to…” discussion that the boys were having right now (just as you walked past them, Taehyung and Jungkook broke into a sudden arm-wrestling competition for reasons that eluded you and the journalist, both).

With about an hour remaining until the doors opened, you managed to email back about half of the people in your inbox. That was how Minjun found you: rocking gently back and forth on the couch at the end of the dimly lit corridor, your laptop balanced on your knees.

“Jude’s here,” he announced, and you felt a dizzying sense of déjà vu before you looked up.

He’s said these exact words to you before. But he seemed far more composed this time, and it soothed your anxiety as you closed your laptop and set it aside.

“Yeah?” you asked, not quite ready to get up just yet.

“Mhmm,” Minjun confirmed. “He said that Sid’s passed out right now, he was out the whole night. Jude’s done everything we asked, and he brought Sid’s phone here with him for us to double-check. I’ve already looked through it, everything’s gone. He, um—he still wants to see you, though.”

“Oh.” You did not like that Sid’s phone was here, and your discomfort finally pushed you to stand up. “That was—that’s good. But what if Sid wakes up while Jude’s here?”

“I know,” Minjun agreed, glancing at his phone to check the time as if he had a timer set for how long Sid would stay asleep. “We have to be quick.”

With a silent nod, you followed Minjun as he led you to an empty dressing room, much larger than the broom closet where he had put Jude last time.

Jude greeted you with an awkward “hi” as soon as he saw you. His voice sounded even smaller in the big room. He looked small, too, but brighter now, more vibrant.

It was his eyes, you realised. He seemed excited.

“Hey,” you replied and noticed quickly that your voice was small, too. “H-how are you feeling?”

Jude’s expression suddenly shifted to one of deep thought. You took note of his trembling hands when he lifted Sid’s phone.

“Nervous,” he admitted. “I brought this for you to see for yourself.”

He extended the phone towards you. You trusted Minjun when he said he’d checked it, but Jude seemed to be seeking your approval as well. You took the device from him, and he informed you that the passcode was “six sixes,” which you found very fitting for the devil incarnate.

You unlocked it, then tapped on the gallery and scrolled through the standard, abstract art images pre-installed on every phone. The generic bright colours were all you found here.

Feeling your heart rate increase already, you opened his Cloud storage. It greeted you with a message that, at this point, could have easily become the title of Rated Riot’s next album: “iCloud Drive is Empty.”

“Okay, that—uh, w-we’re nervous, too, by the way,” you said, your thoughts jumbled as you handed the phone back to Jude. Minjun’s smile widened when your eyes flickered to his; your plan was going smoothly so far. “This is—you did a great job, Jude.”

Jude’s face nearly began to glow. You shrank back, finding his beaming expression discomfiting. It did not look unnatural per se; it just looked misplaced—like someone else’s smile got lost and took temporary shelter on his face.

“I, uh,” he fumbled in the pocket of his jacket, “I also grabbed this.”

He pulled out a set of keys, and you only needed half of a glance to know that they belonged to Jungkook’s Katana. You turned to Minjun again, but he shook his head. Jude hadn’t told him about this.

“Sid had them in his jacket,” Jude explained. “Could you give them to Jungkook?”

You hesitated for another minute before you took the keys from him. And you remembered, suddenly, the first time you’d seen Jungkook with his bike: you were already working together at that point, and he’d arrived on it for a meeting at the company.

He had treated the bike with such care as he showed it to you and the band at the end of the day, almost as if it were a part of him, and Yoongi had pointed out how typical this was. How men—not Yoongi, though, he insisted—constantly grew too attached to their bikes, how they cherished them more than significant others. So, you had jokingly asked Jungkook if the Katana was the love of his life, too. And he’d responded, without missing a single beat, that it wasn’t. That you were.

He’d said it with a smug grin, so, of course, you assumed he was just teasing—because, in your defence, he often was—and you rolled your eyes and didn’t think much of it. But now, holding the keys to his bike that he’d given up, you accepted, finally, that he’d meant it, even back then.

“You did—you didn’t have to get them,” you told Jude, surprised to find yourself breathless.

“I wanted to,” he said. “We’re getting back at Sid.”

You exchanged another glance with Minjun. The two of you had worried that Jude would change his mind once he saw Sid again, but you’d clearly underestimated his desire to finally break free.

“That’s right,” Minjun said. “We are. You’ll, uh—you’ll have to go back to the hotel. Take his phone back to him.”

“I know,” Jude replied, slipping back into his role of a follower. “And then?”

Minjun looked at you, indicating for you to continue. You bit your lip, searching for the right tone to say this. You knew you were putting Jude in a direct line of fire, and you felt a little guilty because you weren’t sure if he even realised it.

“Wait until I call Sid,” you said. You put the keys in your pocket and crossed your arms. “And, I guess, after Sid leaves, let Minjun into his suite. I assume you have the key?” Jude nodded; Sid was passed out, he had no problem grabbing his room key along with his phone. “Minjun will do the rest, but you can—you could help him. We’d appreciate that.”

Jude appeared delighted. He craved appreciation, and you could tell that he received it very rarely.

“I’ll help,” he decided.

For a minute, it seemed like your conversation had ended. But Jude swayed lightly on his feet and played with his fingers, evidently gathering strength for something more.

“By the way,” he finally said, “um, there are cameras in the hotel.”

A quick new surge of anxiety washed over you, and you turned to Minjun, who looked about as stunned as you felt.

“I thought—I thought it was an old hotel,” you said, not quite accusingly but not very gently, either. Your shock prevented you from softening your voice. “Like ours. Ours doesn’t—it doesn’t even have elevators. It barely has bathrooms.”

Minjun felt guilty. He was the one who had assured you not to worry about the cameras. He knew that Sid preferred his accommodation to lack modern inventions—it helped him evade security when he brought questionable companions and dangerous refreshments to his hotel room every other night.

“I thought that’s the sort of place Sid would choose,” Minjun explained apologetically. “He doesn’t like cameras, for understandable reasons.”

“Well, th-they have cameras in the lobby,” Jude said. “And in the corridors. I noticed them when I was coming over here. I don—I don’t know what you wanted to do in Sid’s room, but it—there are cameras at all entrances. Sorry.”

The cameras were obviously not his fault, but you could see how flustered he became to have delivered the news that brought the dark clouds to this room.

“It’s—fuck, it’s not good,” you said, grateful that Jude had gained an impressive awareness of his surroundings seemingly overnight, but still anxious, nonetheless.

Your initial idea was to get Sid arrested and hope that the police would get to his hotel suite eventually. But then Minjun convinced you that he needed to check Sid’s room in advance, and it turned into an important part of your plan.

He insisted that Sid might have hidden the drugs, and he wanted to make them more noticeable for the police to find—in case Sid would bribe the officers, and they didn’t feel like searching through the whole room. Minjun figured that if the police saw questionable white powder as soon as they opened the door, easily visible to any curious onlooker, they couldn’t easily clear Sid of this.

You weren’t sure if Minjun’s idea would be considered tampering with evidence, because the evidence was, technically, already there, but you were uncomfortable with it regardless. Minjun didn’t want to ask Jude to do this, because you didn’t yet know if you could fully trust him. But you didn’t want Minjun to do this, either, so naturally, the two of you had argued about this vehemently.

You felt like having another argument with him right this second.

“Minjun, uh,” you said, “could I speak to you outside for a moment? Jude, would you excuse us?”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Jude replied easily. You did not want to leave him here instead of sending him back to Sid to return his phone, but you had no other choice—Minjun was already looking for a way around the hotel cameras.

He followed you out of the room, a little puzzled. You stopped at the very end of the corridor, in front of a dusty floor-to-ceiling window, and looked around to make sure you were here alone. People were talking inside nearby rooms, so you leaned closer and lowered your voice when you spoke.

“Alright,” you said, nibbling on your bottom lip, “I don’t think you should go to Sid’s hotel. I think we should let Jude handle it.”

“What?” Minjun replied, clearly frazzled. “I thought we were involving him as little as possible.”

“We were,” you said. “But if we don’t involve him right now, then we have to involve you, and—”

“But I said I’ll do it,” he retorted, his whispers wild. “I said I’ll go to his room and check. That was the pl—”

“Right,” you cut him off. “But we didn’t know there’d be cameras. It’s a small hotel. Even if no one notices you there, they might notice you in the footage.”

Minjun’s solution to this was so quick that it made you wonder if he had thought of this several days in advance.

“Sid’s room is on the third floor,” he said. “I reckon I could climb up there from the second-floor balcony.”

“And how would you reach the second-floor balcony?” you shot back equally as quickly. “You’d have to cross the lobby to enter the hotel either way.”

He thought about it for a second longer and came up with what he personally thought was another great idea. “Maybe there are rain pipes?”

You gave him a long look.

“Minjun,” you said. “You’re not Spiderman.”

He groaned and stepped back to lean against the wall. “Fuck, I’m just—”

“Come on, Minjun,” you urged, growing desperate. “It’s not worth the risk. We have to ask Jude to do this for us. He’s staying at the same hotel anyway. It makes sense for him to be there.”

He turned to look out the window. He didn’t like this. He wanted to be sure. He wanted Sid to get burnt, not merely grazed. And, he supposed, he wanted to be the one who set him on fire.

But, logically, Minjun knew that the only reason he would have to go to that hotel, would be if you still couldn’t trust Jude.

Jude had just brought you Sid’s phone to show you that he’d done all that you’d asked. He brought Jungkook’s keys, too. He told you about the cameras. He was on your side.

Minjun exhaled. It didn’t make sense for him to go there.

“Fine,” he said. “Alright. Fine. Let’s—tell Jude to spread Sid’s shit around after Sid leaves to see you.”

Your heart rate picked up, but you tried to subdue your relief. You still had a long day ahead of you.

“Yes,” you said, turning around. “Okay. Let’s—let’s go back.”

The two of you returned to the dressing room where Jude was still waiting in the same exact spot where you’d left him. He had seemingly occupied himself with watching the walls while you were gone, but the creaking of the door returned his attention to you.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

“Yes, uh—just a quick change of plans,” you said, while despondent Minjun closed the door behind you. “We’re, um... going to ask you to do something else for us.”

Jude straightened and nodded. He looked this close, you thought, to giving you a military salute.

“Anything,” he said.

You glanced at Minjun before continuing. You knew he wasn’t pleased with this change of plans, so you appreciated the reassurance in his eyes even more. He may have been unhappy, but he was on your side.

“After I call Sid, and he leaves,” you said, turning back to Jude, “do you think it’d be possible for you to enter Sid’s room without being noticed by the cameras?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Our suites are at the end of the corridor, bit of a blind spot. The camera faces the staircase.”

“Okay,” you said, taking a deep breath. “Then go to his room as soon as he leaves, and make sure that—”

“The rest of his chalk?” Jude cut in. “I should bring it out of his suitcases, right?”

Minjun turned to you, his eyebrows raised. Jude had never been quick, for as long as Minjun had known him, but his dedication to getting rid of Sid was remarkable. He seemed to have figured out the details of your plan on his own.

Minjun gestured for you to proceed. You’ve decided to trust Jude and there was no way back now.

“Yes,” you said. “It—that’s exactly what you should do. Make sure it’s in plain sight. Not necessarily all of it, just a bag or two—or whatever he keeps it in—so the officers would see it right away. We’re sure Sid will use any means necessary to make the police think we’re framing him, so they might be neglectful. You would help ensure that they do a thorough search of his suite. You’d show them that he’s guilty.”

Jude’s eyes glittered. Minjun was very impressed by your ability to choose the precise words that Jude wanted to hear.

“But don’t touch the bags directly,” he added, and Jude redirected his attention to his friend. “Wear gloves or use a plastic bag to pick them up and throw them around the room.”

You nodded, agreeing, and Jude reflexively nodded, too.

“Okay,” he said, ever as obedient. “I’ll do that.”

“And are we sure that Sid will bring some of his stuff with him here?” you asked, glancing at them both. It would be disastrous if the one time Sid decided to leave his drugs at home would be today.

Minjun was the one to answer you.

“Yeah, he carries his shit with him everywhere,” he said. “If not in his jacket, then in his jeans. He’ll have it.”

Jude raised his eyebrows with the same enthusiasm as before.

“I can check that, too,” he offered. “If he—if it’s in his jacket. If it’s easy to find.”

Minjun turned to you again. Right away, he recognised the distress on your face—not only were you relying on Jude for half of your plan, but you were also putting him at risk. You felt awful. Minjun did, too. But he hated Sid with enough passion to ignore his discomfort.

“Okay,” Minjun took over. “That sounds good. Check his jacket, too, if you get a chance.”

You turned your uneasy gaze back to Jude. You almost expected him to demand something in exchange for helping you, but he kept nodding his head, not saying anything.

He would do this for you because you asked him to. That was how Sid kept him around for so long: by giving orders that Jude felt compelled to follow.

“I’m—thank you, Jude,” you said. “You’re doing a great job. And we don’t want you to go through anything that Sid will have to go through, okay? So, be careful.”

Jude swallowed and nodded once more.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ll take his phone to him and wait for your call. After he leaves, I will check his hiding spots and bring his stash out. I’ll be careful.”

You shivered at the decisiveness of his tone. You knew that you weren’t playing a prank on Sid, you were actively conspiring against him—but hearing Jude repeat the details of your plan back to you made this feel much more significant. Much more real.

“Yes,” you said. “And leave immediately after, okay? Check out of the hotel.”

“I’ll come meet you a few blocks away,” Minjun inserted. “You can stay in my room at our hotel.”

Jude gave another nod of agreement. The anxiety rising in your stomach was starting to make it difficult for you to breathe.

“Jude,” you said, “you’re doing—you’re a great help to us. I know we’re all a team now, but still. We really appreciate it.”

Jude smiled, and this time, his smile did not look misplaced. It matched the light in his eyes, even if it wasn’t quite sure what it was doing on his face.

“Thanks,” he said. “We’re a team. I—I’m going to go now.”

“Good luck,” you said. “We’ll see you later.”

The moment the door closed and Jude’s quiet footsteps faded down the corridor, you crossed your arms and met Minjun’s exhausted sigh with a similar one of your own.

“Well,” Minjun began, “it looks like we’ll have to rely on Jude a lot more than we originally thought.”

You sighed again. “Yeah. I mean, he seems alright.”

He did seem alright. But Minjun felt an itch under his skin, and he couldn’t make it go away no matter how much he scratched and stretched.

“I still want to go in there,” he said, “and make sure we’re really good to go.”

This alarmed you; you thought you’d already decided to let Jude handle Sid’s suite.

“But—”

“No, listen,” he cut in, “Jude said Sid’s room is in a blind spot. So, how would anyone know which room I entered, even if they did see me in the lobby? Maybe I’m visiting someone else.”

“But why draw attention to yourself?” you argued. “Why make yourself look suspicious?”

Minjun felt ants crawling all over himself; he did not like your questions.

“I just want to be sure we’re good to go,” he repeated, turning away from you.

“We are good to go, Minjun,” you pleaded softly. “Let Jude do it.”

“And what if Sid hid it all,” he still insisted, “and Jude can’t find it?”

“Then you might not find it, either,” you replied. He clicked his tongue, discontented. “I just don’t want you to risk getting caught on the CCTVs there. Jude is staying in that hotel. It’d be easier for him to get to Sid’s room, it’s far less risky. It makes more sense. Let him do it.”

Minjun kept his gaze on the floor, his jaw clenched.

You knew that he wanted to finally stand up to Sid, and it wasn’t your place to intervene. But you were the one who suggested getting Sid arrested, and now you wanted to ensure everyone’s safety and limit their reckless decisions in this plan to as few as possible. Minjun walking past the cameras in the hotel and breaking into Sid’s room seemed reckless. It seemed reckless for Jude to do it, too, but on a lesser scale—this was a risk you hoped you could afford.

“Jude might touch the drugs, too,” Minjun mumbled after a minute. “I don’t know if he’ll realise not to, even if we told him to be careful.”

“Then we can call him and warn him again,” you said. “But I’m sure he’ll be fine. He—he only looks a little dumb, but he’s ready. He wants nothing else to do with Sid.”

Minjun stayed quiet, and you did not say anything, either, allowing him some time with his thoughts. He already knew how risky it would be for him to go to that hotel. He just needed a minute to push his own ego aside and focus on getting Sid arrested, even if that meant he had to stay back and just watch it happen.

“Alright,” he said after a minute. “Yeah, fine. I’ll stay here.”

A deep, resigned sigh followed his words, and you allowed yourself to close your eyes and lean against the door of the room for just a minute.

“Okay, good,” you said. “We—we should be alright.”

You sounded as confident as you could under the circumstances, but Minjun sensed every nervous undertone in your voice.

“Yeah,” he said, twisting the silver band on his index finger. “We should be. You—the more you praised and thanked him, the more willing Jude became to do anything for us. Sid had never given him positive feedback in his life, and you’re giving it all to him in one day. So, I-I think you’re right. He’s on our side. He wants to do this, too. We will be fine.”

You nodded slowly. You hoped you were right because the rest of your plan relied on this.

You were right.

Later that same day, you would learn that Jude had done a spectacular job at improvising. You’d never considered him to be particularly bright until today—actually, that was putting it nicely—but he was Sid’s friend, so he had destructive behavioural patterns ingrained deeply in his brain. That worked in your favour.

Apparently, Jude got worried that Sid would sleep through Rated Riot’s set, and that would derail your plan. So, he made sure that Sid wouldn’t wake up if touched, and strategically dangled Sid’s hand over the edge of the bed. Then, planning his exit, he opened the window to create a draft with the door. Finally, he forcefully dropped Sid’s phone from across the room, and ran out before Sid registered the noise.

The screen of the phone cracked, startling Sid awake. Right away, he noticed his outstretched hand and his broken phone on the floor, and his thought process was very simple: he dropped his phone in his sleep and woke himself up. The window was open, so the wind must have rattled the door of his room at the same time, adding to the noise. That’s all there was to it—never mind that the damage to the phone was far too bad, given the distance from his hand to the floor, and there was no wind outside the window.

Jude’s improvisation proved excellent in another way, too: Sid thought the cracked screen was the reason his phone wouldn’t turn back on, and why it appeared empty once he plugged it in to charge. He thought he had broken it, and he was very unhappy about that.

Jude, meanwhile, was overjoyed. He sent you a text with an innocuous smiley face, and started to pack his belongings.

You received his text and proceeded with your part of the plan.

First, you had to borrow an old flip phone from one of the middle-aged roadies on tour because it was the only device that could fit your prepaid SIM card.

And then, as soon as Ivy started her opening set and Rated Riot gathered in their dressing room for final preparations ahead of their performance, you called Sid.

He answered on the first ring with a word that you did not understand. He didn’t sound sober.

“Sid?” you asked.

“Yeah?” he responded, the sound slightly distorted on the old phone. “Who is this?”

“It’s me,” you said, intentionally avoiding names. You hoped he’d recognise you because you doubted many women voluntarily called him. “Can you talk?”

It took Sid a minute to place your voice, and the line stayed quiet while you waited.

“What—what number are you calling me from?” he asked. That was good. His first reaction was not, ‘why are you calling me?’

“It’s my number,” you said. “Just—I made it private, so—I don’t want anyone to know I’m talking to you.”

The number obviously wasn’t yours, although Sid wouldn’t be able to tell. The prepaid SIM card was meant to ensure your anonymity in case the authorities checked his call history and traced the number back.

“Why?” Sid asked. He didn’t sound accusing or annoyed, merely confused.

“I have something I want to discuss with you,” you said before adding a deliberately half-panicked, half-angry whisper, “but listen, no one can know.”

Sid was obviously befuddled. A long “ahhh” preceded his response before he found actual words.

“What are—what do you want?” he asked, and then, to your horror, he softened his voice. “I mean, to discuss with me.”

You took a deep breath. You were grateful that he hadn’t hung up and instead continued to speak to you in this unbecoming, warm tone, but you still felt nauseous and had to clutch the flip phone to your ear to stay in the moment.

“I—I’ve been thinking a lot,” you began, following the script you had written on a piece of paper that you couldn’t wait to burn later. “Jungkook and I—it—it’s not good. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m—listen, I don’t want to talk to you about this over the phone. Jungkook can—well, you know, it’s a phone. I don’t know, maybe he tapped it or something.”

There was a minute of silence. You wondered if you’d overdone it, if your hesitation had not sounded natural.

“Jungkook tapped your phone?” Sid asked, sounding incredulous.

“He might have, I—he’s acting very irrationally, and I’m—honestly, I’m realising that I was wrong about you,” you said. You had to pause to close your eyes and calm your stomach. Sid took the silence to mean that you were gathering your strength, and you really were, just not in the way he thought. “Jungkook is—he’s acting crazy. Ever since you posted that picture on Instagram, he’s been controlling everything I do. I can’t—I can’t do this. So, I’m—look, I need your help. I think you’re the only one who can help me get out of here. Can you meet me?”

You held your breath, expecting to wait while Sid considered your request—but he did no such thing.

His response was immediate. “Where?”

The second you heard the question, you knew that Minjun had been right. Sid would come here to see you—but not because you’d asked. He was going to come here purely out of spite for Jungkook.

“Are you in London?” you asked, your voice shaking.

“Yeah,” he replied.

“I’m at The Academy,” you said. “Can you come?”

“I’m not allowed,” he reminded you—exactly like you expected him to. “Jungkook blacklisted me.”

“I’ll talk to security,” you said. “They’ll let you through.”

He fell silent again, and you knew he had a lot to wrap his head around, yet you still worried that you might have been too forceful. But you shouldn’t have doubted this. You’d mentioned Jungkook, and Sid was deaf to everything else.

“Wh—can you just—why do you need me to come there?” he asked, sounding curious, even lazy, but not suspicious.

You supposed the text messages you’d sent him in advance had also helped, like you hoped they would. Now, your desperation to see him seemed more believable.

“I need your help, and I can’t leave the venue,” you explained. “I’m the—you know my job is to stay here. People will notice if I leave. They’ll know something is up. I need—I need you here.” You paused when you heard Sid’s garbled inhale on the other end. Loathing every moment of this, you swallowed, and continued, “Rated Riot are about to start their setlist, so no one will even know you’re here. Please? I—I really need you.”

He did not seem to notice the way you choked on the last words, but he was silent for a very long time, and you began to second-guess yourself again. You couldn’t help it—this was so unrealistic.

You’d hated Sid for as long as you’ve known him. Surely, even if he believed you needed his help, and even if Jungkook was involved, he would laugh in your face and tell you to fucking deal with it on your own.

“Alright,” he said instead and you felt shivers run down your spine. Jungkook was that much of a sore spot for him. “Fine. Yeah. You’ll speak to security?”

“I—yeah, I promise,” you assured him—and you didn’t lie, technically. You had already talked to Mick. “Come straight to the dressing rooms, I’ll be waiting for you there.”

“Alri—” Sid started to say, then stopped abruptly. “What do you want to talk to me about?”

“I can’t tell you over the phone,” you repeated. “I don’t want—no one can know, okay? It has to stay between you and me.”

“Alright. Shit,” he said, encouraged, as it seemed, by this ominous you-and-me. “I’m coming. Wait for me.”

“Okay,” you replied, trying to unclench your teeth. “I’ll be waiting.”

Ending the call, you exhaled and shook your hands vigorously as if that could help you recover from the conversation and stop shuddering.

You felt even more nervous now—if you struggled so much to talk to him over the phone, how would you handle him face-to-face?—but you couldn’t afford to lose your courage.

So many things had to fall into place for you to succeed—Jude needed to run into you in that club in London and Sid needed to leave him alone when he nearly overdosed—and it all felt frustratingly circumstantial. But all that was left now was up to you, and you’ve spent days planning this. You knew what you were doing.

You waited for Sid and paced in the room. Then, remembering suddenly, you pulled out Jungkook’s lighter from your jacket pocket—jangling the keys of his Katana as you did—and burnt the piece of paper with all that you’d written down before your call. The flames were delicate and shy. They disappeared into the air as soon as they finished the job, and not even the sprinklers on the ceiling picked them up.

It took Sid about fifteen more minutes to arrive, and he rounded the corner towards the waiting area while breathing heavily as though he’d run all the way here.

You pressed your palms into each other behind your back to keep your composure. He was wearing a thick North Face jacket, far too warm for this weather, and you wondered if Jude had managed to double-check what was inside.

“That was shit to get through,” Sid remarked once he saw you in the doorway of one of the empty dressing rooms. “Fucking Mick hates my guts.”

You’d warned Mick to be as rude as he possibly could when Sid got here, but you still didn’t like that Sid used his first name. Mick was the guardian angel of this tour; he was the quiet backbone of every concert. You wanted to punch Sid a little just for mentioning him so offhandedly.

“Yeah, he—he takes his job very seriously,” you said. “Thank you for coming here.”

Sid followed you into the dressing room and looked around. He hadn’t seen anyone other than Mick backstage—you made sure he wouldn’t—but he still seemed on edge.

“Are we cool to talk here?” he asked. “You’re not worried about Jungkook overhearing us?”

“No,” you said. “They’re about to go on stage. We’re good.”

It was easy to talk to him when you didn’t have to lie. And it was even easier when Sid asked all the wrong questions. If he had decided to point out that you hated him and asked why you’d changed your mind, you were sure you’d start stuttering again.

“Okay.” He stuffed his hands in his jean pockets while you stood across the room, your arms folded tightly over your chest. “Well, wha—why did you ask me to come?”

“I want to talk to you,” you replied. He could not discern the expression on your face or the tone of your voice.

“About what?” he asked.

“About us,” you said.

His eyebrows shot up and his mouth stretched downwards in an expression of comical surprise. “Us?”

“Yeah.”

His gaze flickered for a minute, drifting away, then returning to you again. He looked unsure of himself, and witnessing him in a similar state of disorientation as Jude had been when he was first here, was extremely entertaining. You almost wished you had a camera somewhere in the room.

“Okay,” Sid finally said, waiting for you to lead the conversation.

“What are you thinking right now?” you asked.

The question deepened his confusion. “Huh?”

“What did you think about just now,” you clarified, “when I said ‘us’?”

Sid frowned and did not reply. You could tell that he was very confused about your different mood, but he was already here, so you did not owe him any more false pleasantries. You just needed to keep him here a little longer: to get a proper reaction out of him in front of your scheduled witnesses, and to give Jude enough time to finish his part of the plan in Sid’s room and check out of the hotel.

“That’s fair,” you said in response to his silence. “You don’t have to answer.”

“I’m—why did you ask me to come?” he asked, glancing behind himself.

The room was hidden from the rest of the waiting area by an awkward corner wall, providing you with enough privacy to leave the door ajar, so it would make sense for Mick and Luna to find you here later, but it also wouldn’t make Sid uncomfortable. He seemed fairly content to leave the door open as he talked to you.

He was perplexed, however. You watched his beady, cockroach-like eyes dart between the window and the couch behind you. He wasn’t sure if he was being paranoid. He didn’t like that you did not look nearly as panicked and vulnerable as you’d sounded on the phone.

“You don’t have to look around,” you told him. “It’s just us here.”

He scoffed, not convinced. “I know it’s not.”

You felt a bubble of worry in the pit of your stomach, but you swallowed it and maintained eye contact. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You have security everywhere,” he replied.

“I told you I talked to them.”

You saw some of his armour loosen. He was still puzzled by your rigid posture, but now he seemed less inclined to flee.

“Right,” he said reluctantly. “You said you needed my help.”

“I did,” you confirmed. “Can you answer one question?”

He furrowed his brows again.

“Sure,” he said, but his response sounded like a question. He couldn’t guess what would happen next, and he was beside himself. You’ve never seen him fidget like this.

“Why did you come here?” you asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I’ve been texting you the whole day yesterday,” you said. “You didn’t reply to me. Then, suddenly, you did. And now you’re here.”

You already knew why he texted you back when he did; Jungkook had provoked him. But you wanted to hear Sid’s logic. This had been bothering you ever since Jungkook told you about the videos Sid had sent him—the simple why.

Sid wanted to establish his superiority, you understood that much—but why was it so important to him? After all, Jungkook had never posed any serious threat to him until now.

This was not part of the plan, but you figured that since you had to keep Sid here for a while longer, you might as well make the most of the situation.

“Oh, yeah, no, my phone—it broke, the glass cracked, all my shit is deleted,” he said. “I’m trying to figure out how to access my Cloud. I forgot my password.”

“Oh,” you said. “So that’s why you didn’t reply?”

Sid shrugged. “Yeah.”

You narrowed your eyes before quickly adjusting your expression. You may have dropped certain parts of your act, but you were still the worried, confused, and very innocent damsel in evident distress. You weren’t interrogating him.

Sid seemed to read the expression on your face as precisely that.

“Don’t worry, I’m—I would have replied to you if my phone was okay,” he said and you had already predicted that he would say this very thing. It was a standard response for guys like him: I would have replied, but. I would have called, but. I really would have, but.

You cleared your throat and hoped very much that your face would appear relieved to hear this. “Really?”

“Of course,” Sid assured. He was soothed, seemingly, by the hopeful glint he thought he saw in your eyes.

“I just—I have another question,” you said. “Are you here to get back at Jungkook?”

You could have been more subtle, but you did not want to be. Sid wasn’t expecting the question anyway, and his confusion clouded his judgment.

“I’m—why do you think that?” he asked.

“You two hate each other,” you explained. “I thought that was why you came here. Just to get back at him.”

Despite your calm demeanour, you sounded unsure when you spoke, and that helped Sid feel more at ease. He believed you were insecure about his motives. He thought you wanted to hear that he’d come here for you, only you. Not Jungkook.

“Well, sure,” he said. “But—you’re—you know.”

“No,” you said. “Explain it to me. I don’t know.”

“Well, it’s, like—I mean—you said you needed my help,” he replied very concisely.

You sensed what he was trying to convey, and you enjoyed his struggle to find the words for it. It was pathetic, though. You could tell just by looking at him that the emotions he wanted to talk to you about weren’t genuine, yet he still couldn’t put them into words.

He wanted you to think he had feelings for you, so you’d drop your guard. So you’d stop asking questions and come to him, and Jungkook would lose you. But if there was anyone in this building that Sid genuinely had feelings for, it was himself.

“Well, yeah, but you—you posted that picture,” you said, feigning hurt. He’d wounded you and now you doubted his intentions—this way, he couldn’t doubt yours. “And you sent those videos, and—I thought you hated me, too. I didn’t think you’d agree to help me.”

“I don’t hate you,” he said. “This isn’t about you.”

Your overstimulated mind perked up. It finally started to feel like you were getting somewhere.

“It’s not?” you asked.

“Well, it’s a little about you,” he admitted. He chuckled here, too, and you felt a foreboding churning in your stomach even before he said anything else. “I mean, I liked you f-for a short while. Nothing serious. I think I even told you about it.”

“You did not tell me.”

As his awkward chuckling ceased, you caught your mask slipping and blinked a few times, trying to appear less threatening.

“Well, it didn’t last long, so it doesn’t even matter,” he added, glancing around the room.

“Mhmm.” You contemplated various ways to phrase yourself next, hoping that any way would work as long as your voice was quiet and unsure, maybe with an insecure chuckle at the end. “But why did you send those videos? What are you—what’s the reason?”

He closed his eyes and groaned. “How can you ask me that? After thinking that Jungkook tapped your phone? I thought you realised what he’s really like.”

You looked down, needing a moment to recall all that you’ve told him so you could continue to play along.

“Oh, no, I mean—no, I know,” you said. “I see what he’s like, I’m just—I want to know what you were trying to do, and, uh, maybe we can help each other.”

Sid appeared pleasantly surprised to hear this, but his expression quickly morphed into one of his sly grins—the sort that was toxic if you were exposed to it for too long. “Oh, yeah?”

You swallowed; you thought you could already taste the poison on your tongue.

“Yeah,” you replied.

He exhaled and took a few steps deeper into the room, right past your side. You forced yourself to stand still as he approached the window, glanced outside, and then turned back to you.

“It’s my revenge,” he said.

“Revenge,” you repeated, internally cringing at his choice of words. “For what?”

“For you.”

You raised your eyebrows and clutched your arms around yourself tighter. This was what you were waiting to hear, but, at the same time, it wasn’t.

“For me?” you asked.

“And for his band,” Sid added.

You did not reply, too worried about the turmoil you felt inside. The stirring in your stomach had suddenly intensified—as if the outer lining of your organs had begun to peel off like old paint does when it comes in contact with something acidic. You were starting to discover that Sid was toxic to be around in more ways than one.

“He’s got—he thinks he’s the shit now that he’s famous,” he continued. “Now that he’s back with you. He needs to be taken down a notch. That’s all.”

“That’s all?” you asked skeptically.

“Yeah,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. Taking someone “down a notch” seemed to be a regular activity for him.

“And you don’t think that’s a waste of time?” you asked. “I mean, I think we should just leave him be and… you know, move on with our lives.”

“No, that’s not how it works,” he declared. There was a newfound intensity in his eyes, an angry flame of sorts, and it made you realise just how lifeless his gaze had been otherwise. This was truly his purpose, you realised. If he wasn’t making others miserable, he wasn’t really living. “Somebody steps out of line, you need to put them back in their place. Or they won’t learn their lesson.”

You lowered your gaze before you could start shaking your head at his self-assured tone.

“But why does it matter if he learns his lesson or not?” you pushed. “If—if we’re leaving and won’t have to deal with him anymore?”

His lips spread in a dangerous, serpentine grin.

“We’re leaving?” he asked. He sounded thrilled and you wanted to knock his teeth in.

“Well, I would hope so,” you said. You also hoped that the twitching you felt in the corners of your eyes was phantom, and he could not see how much your body detested his presence.

Sid considered this for a second. You could see some sinister plan brewing in his mind.

“Alright. Yeah,” he finally said. “I like the idea of us going away. But it’s still unfair to leave debts unpaid, you know? This shit goes back years. He’s always tried to upstage me. Picture this: on my birthdays, I usually borrowed my dad’s yacht and got all my friends. And for the last few years, Jungkook was spending the whole night at the helm, handing everyone drinks like some Great fucking Gatsby in that book, fucking singing, and just trying to be the centre of attention. It’s my fucking birthday, and he’s acting like the star of the show.”

You had to pause to allow for several bits of new information to sink in. You were surprised, first of all, that Sid knew what a book was. You also learnt that he was so far up his own ass that he could not be accurate if he was gifted objectivity for Christmas.

You had heard a different version of this story from Jungkook. When he told you about these yacht parties, he had emphasised how new these experiences were for him, and how Sid was the one who’d made them possible. He’d used one of these parties as an example of the good moments in their friendship. You could sense awe and subtle gratitude in Jungkook’s words. No malice, no jealousy.

But Sid had evidently felt threatened. Yachts weren’t a luxury to him, they were a regular occurrence. And he felt intimidated by Jungkook’s unbridled joy because he cherished these experiences in a way that Sid never could.

“Oh,” you said after a moment. “I’ve never—I didn’t know about that.”

“Yeah,” Sid said with a childish sneer. “And don’t fucking get me started on what he was like when he was still with you. Never fucking shut up about having to see you. He thought he was some king of the fucking world, thought he was better than us. He tried to make us feel like losers because you chose him. And I knew things were shit for you two because he never told us about anything that you did together. But still, he fucking—his fucking head was the size of the moon. He really thought he was the shit. And then—get this. I said I wanted to be in a band. So, guess what he did?”

You were impressed by how offended Sid sounded as he complained about Jungkook not sharing the details of his relationship with his friends. And you were just as impressed by his perverse interpretations of how Jungkook’s relationship made him feel—he felt left out. He felt jealous and angry. He always had to have more than his friends and now, for the first time in his life, he didn’t.

And you remembered this dream about their own band, too – the conversation Jungkook said he’d had with Sid, Jude, and Minjun on the beach. How Sid wanted to be a bassist, how he owned all of Sex Pistols’ records. You’d thought they were joking until Jungkook brought this up again just the other night. And now you could tell how serious they were just by looking at the scowl on Sid’s face.

“Not to mention,” Sid continued, providing you with all the answers you sought, and looking very pleased as he did. To him, this must have felt like you were already agreeing with him. “Jungkook is the only one of my friends that my mum likes. I don’t know what it is about him. She fucking adores him. Like some stray fucking cat, I swear to fuck. And, of course, every time he’s at my house, he goes out of his way to kiss her ass, and she falls for it every single time. He should have been grateful I even invited him to see me, he should have been fucking kissing my ass, but instead, he was trying to appear like a little angel to her.”

This wasn’t something that Jungkook had mentioned to you before, and you were surprised. You only knew about Sid’s stone-cold mother from what Minjun had told you.

“What do you mean?” you asked. “What was he doing?”

However reluctant Sid might have seemed before, now he looked elated about the opportunity to elaborate.

“He brought her favourite chocolates whenever he came over, he polished her car when we were working on my granddad’s collection—and nobody even asked him to touch her car. He fucking sent her cards on her birthday,” he listed off, scoffing to himself. “And then I got shit for not congratulating her right away, even though I had something planned. For later. He was—he was setting some fucking standard that I had to live up to. And why the fuck should I? I’m her only son. Who the fuck is Jungkook to her? Fucking nobody. He’s a fucking wannabe, that’s what he is. He fucking acts like he fits in with us, but you can take one look at him to know that he never will. He’s nothing.”

You glanced at the window on your side. Sid got something exactly right; Jungkook really wanted to fit in.

He wanted Sid’s mother to approve of him like he wanted everyone to approve of him. He hoped that gaining her acceptance would make him feel more included in their inner circle. He would become Sid’s friend, not just someone Sid hung out with occasionally. They’d be as equal as they could be, given their vastly different backgrounds.

But Sid saw it all as a threat. And he was envious, too. He thought he had to compete with Jungkook for everything, even his mother’s affection. And he was understandably upset because he had the entitlement, the legacy, the money. He had a whole dynasty behind him. Jungkook had nothing.

For a very long time, Jungkook had been trying to come as close to Sid as he could, even though he knew he could never have what Sid had. And now, all of a sudden, Jungkook had so much more: he had the band, a promising career, a devoted fanbase, real friends. He had the girl, too.

And you realised that Sid didn’t want to merely demonstrate that he was better than Jungkook; that wasn’t it. He was obsessed with Jungkook—because he wanted to be Jungkook.

“So you thought those videos would put him in his place?” you asked. “You thought they’d teach him a lesson?”

“That was just for starters,” Sid said, grinning again. “I was going to make sure he lost you first, then the band. And I also have his bike. He would lose everything else on his own. Not that there’s much else to lose.”

You ran your fingers over your chin. You hadn’t had a chance to give Jungkook the keys to his Katana yet, and the weight of them in your pocket was quite pleasant.

“I see,” you said.

“So, what—will we do it?” Sid asked, blowing into his fist and rubbing his palms together. “I mean, he’s already lost you.”

You realised, quite unexpectedly, that you didn’t really want to punch him anymore. He was so deeply miserable already, purely of his own accord, that there was nothing you could do to make him feel worse about himself. You just wanted to get him out of here—preferably in the back of a police vehicle.

“How would—how do you think he’d lose the band?” you asked.

“I’ll post those videos I sent him,” he said easily. “Well, after my phone gets its shit together. His band will fear for their reputation, and they’ll get rid of him. Simple. And then every time he’ll try to sing, I’ll pull up something I have in my gallery. He’ll have to live the rest of his life quietly, without bothering anybody.”

You nodded along as you listened. You and your friends had suspected Sid would do this very thing. And now the thought of him trying very hard to get back at Jungkook after tonight, but failing every time, was very inspiring.

“What are you thinking?” he asked after you didn’t reply.

You looked up at him. “I, um—do you know what time it is?”

He glanced at the obnoxiously large, diamond-encrusted watch on his wrist. You doubted he could tell time that well, and Sid confirmed it when it took him a good fifteen seconds to calculate what each number on the mechanical watch stood for.

“Nine twenty-four,” he said. “Why?”

“No reason,” you replied. You’ve kept him here for almost half an hour at this point. That was as much time as you agreed on with Jude and Minjun; Jude had to have finished by now, ideally with some time to spare. “You came here from your hotel?”

“Yeah,” Sid said. “You want to go there?”

Finally, you allowed yourself a small smile. “I don’t think either of us will be going there.”

His eyebrows gathered into an uncertain frown. “Hmm?”

“I invited you here,” you said, “because I wanted to see you one last time.”

The previous confusion you’d seen in Sid’s eyes doubled. He did not make a move, but you saw him stiffen.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, and you were close enough to see his pupils shrinking.

You were the one to shrug casually this time. “I figured it’d be quite boring without you here.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he replied slowly, his gaze fixed on your face.

Your smile lacked any real sympathy, despite the pitiful click of your lips. “I’m afraid you’ll have no choice.”

“What?” he asked again. You watched him slide one of his hands into his jacket pocket. It must have been reflexive, he couldn’t have known that you knew what he carried there. But you were still glad. You were going to tell the police later that he kept reaching into his pocket anyway. At least now you wouldn’t have to lie.

“I’m just thinking, what else did you bring with you to London?” you asked. Jungkook told you not to beat Sid up, but he didn’t say anything about taunting him. “Something that you wouldn’t mind sharing with the police, maybe? We could have a little Show and Tell.”

You noticed his arm tighten inside his jacket sleeve; he must have clenched his fist in his pocket. “What—what the fuck are you saying?”

He had reverted to his usual manner of speaking, and you felt far more comfortable when he was foaming at the mouth instead of half-whispering just to maintain a seductive tone with you. His real face was slowly coming out. You could already see the fangs.

“Why do you look so alarmed?” you asked. “Did you bring something that you shouldn’t have brought with you, but figured, what’s the worst that can happen?”

His jaw was tight. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, you do.”

He glared at you in a poor attempt at intimidation, and you heard the faint sound of footsteps in the corridor. You knew that Luna and Mick were right there, behind him. He was trapped.

“Is this why you called me here?” he questioned. You doubted he’d sensed the others, because he still looked fairly composed. “You’re trying to—trying to trick me into—into what? Admitting that I do drugs?”

“I’m not trying to trick you,” you countered. “I’m just having a conversation with you.”

He squinted at you. “You don’t need my help, do you?”

You almost laughed at the absurdity of the question; you knew he was slow, but this still surprised you.

“I did, actually,” you said. “And you’ve already helped me loads. Thanks.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he snapped, finally displaying some of the aggression you’d been anticipating. His hand flew out of his pocket but remained relatively close to the rest of his body. “Y-you—you think you’re going to bust me for drugs? You think this is my first time in a foreign country?”

Your smile was patient.

“You think this is my first time talking to you?” you returned. “You think I spent all these years dealing with your shit and learnt nothing?”

For a very heartwarming moment, Sid’s eyes looked ready to pop out of his forehead.

“The cops wouldn’t find anything,” he snarled, taking a step closer to you.

You shrugged and did not move. “Alright.”

“You’d be the one they question for wasting their time,” he continued, taking another step until he was a mere foot away from you.

“Fair.”

He leaned in closer, each of his words so self-assured that it was a wonder he hadn’t done a backflip yet to prove how absolutely incredible, how untouchable, how totally one-of-a-kind he was.

“You still think you have something on me?” he snarled.

You leaned back slightly to be able to meet his gaze without your vision blurring from the proximity and his awful smell. His cologne was not rich enough to hide the powerful stench of all that he’d consumed before he came here.

“Is this a threat?” you asked. Your tone was calm and you saw the way it made the veins in his neck bulge.

He scoffed. “How is that a threat?”

“I am feeling very threatened.”

“I’m not even touching you,” he retorted. He was a little nervous, you could tell. He thought he could pay his way out of any trouble, but he would still be inconvenienced if you called the police.

“Who’s going to believe you?” you countered. “You reek of liquor and weed.”

“Oh, so you’re going to frame me, is that it?” he asked, raising the pitch of his voice to mock you.

You figured he would think he was invincible until the very end, and you appreciated that his unwavering arrogance would become precisely what brought on his downfall.

“Framing implies I falsify charges,” you said.

He ran his tongue over his upper teeth. “Well, I never threatened you.”

“And I never lied to the police.”

Sid continued to stare at you without blinking. He hadn’t expected to find himself in this situation with you. He hadn’t expected you not to blink, either.

And it occurred to you, with him so close, that despite the act he put on, despite his perpetual sneer, he was truly incredibly insecure. This—standing right in your face—was the most he could do.

“Hmm. I see,” he said. You heard his jacket scrunch as he moved, but you did not look away from the slits in his pupils. “You have to understand, though, if I wanted to threaten you, I w—”

You noticed the movement of his arm out of the corner of your eye and slapped his hand away with the edge of your palm just as he reached to touch your cheek. Sid yelped and recoiled in surprise.

You had underestimated your strength when you were on so much adrenaline, and the dull slap echoed in the empty room. It took him a moment to understand what had happened.

“Fuck—y-you’re the one who just pushed me,” he said, looking at his hand as if you’d drawn blood. “And you’re the one who called me in here in the first pl—”

“Mick!” you called out, cutting him off.

Mick was standing right by the door and Sid did not get another chance to interject before the security guard popped his head inside. He looked at you, then at the increasing distance between you and Sid as Sid crossed the room away from you.

“Yeah?” the guard asked, stepping inside.

“Call 999 for me, would you, please?” you asked, keeping your eyes on Sid as he smirked to himself. “We have a trespasser here.”

“You fucking invited me,” Sid shot back, rolling his eyes. “You told them to let me in.”

“I did no such thing,” you said.

“Y—you fucking called me!” he continued, momentarily thrown off balance. “And you kept fucking texting me, and told me to—”

“I would never call you.”

The unshakeable tranquillity in your eyes as you lied right to his face made him livid. You hoped it would.

“You fucking bitch,” he spat. “I have it on my phone. The messages might be gone, but you called me—”

“Sid,” you said in a voice so indifferent that he stopped speaking and just glowered at you. “You are behaving very irrationally and posing a threat to me and your surroundings. Mick is legally allowed to restrain you until the police get here.”

Mick put his phone away and took a step closer to Sid. Sid took an instinctive step back, closer to you. He appeared so confused, so cornered, that not even his persistent scoffing—a coping mechanism, you started to realise—could help him retain his nonchalance.

“I’m behaving irrationally?” he questioned. “How the fuck am I—”

“Hey,” Luna called from the door. Your heart lifted at the sound of her voice, but faltered when you saw Minjun next to her. He wasn’t supposed to be here. “I heard yelling. Is everything alright?”

“I-I found a trespasser,” you explained. “I feel very threatened.”

“I understand,” she replied, her voice mechanical. Sid looked like he wanted to throw things, then break them when he noticed Minjun. “He is yelling at you and flailing his arms. I also feel threatened.”

Sid’s sardonic laughter gained more volume.

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” he growled. “Did you all plot this together? Do you know who I am? This will never fly.”

“The police are on their way,” Mick told him. “You’re coming with me.”

You allowed him to take charge and moved towards Minjun and Luna; she immediately wrapped a protective arm around your shoulders. The three of you watched Mick grab both of Sid’s hands and dodge a clumsy slap as Sid made feeble attempts to resist.

“You have no fucking idea what I’m going to do to you, Minjun!” Sid cried. “Your family is fucked. They’re so fucking fucked!”

You reached out to touch Minjun’s arm when you saw him swallow back his anger. He glanced at you, then at Luna, and nodded before turning back to Sid.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad for us, compared to where you’re going,” he replied calmly, forcing Sid to break into another fit of incomprehensible screeching.

Mick guided Sid towards the door, using his full weight to restrain him as Sid writhed in his grip. As soon as they crossed the threshold of the dressing room—where Sid fought violently to break out and cursed Minjun to hell and back several times—Mick pulled him into himself and half-carried him to the security room.

Sid yelled all the way down the corridor, ensuring that there were plenty of other witnesses to his outburst. The venue staff and your tour staff all heard his threats, they all saw him resist Mick’s hold. You couldn’t have planned it like this if you’d tried—and it was mostly due to Minjun showing up. Seeing someone that he considered a mere plaything stand up to him had clearly snapped something in Sid’s brain.

It took the police twenty minutes to arrive, and Sid had not closed his mouth once. You found that you quite enjoyed it; every scream from behind the door of the security room about how he was going to “fuck this place up” and “find every single one of you” and “kill you, you insufferable fucking bitch” sounded very melodious. Even Minjun loosened eventually, enjoying the moment he’d waited so long for.

Despite your efforts to keep the rest of your friends away from this scene, Maggie found her way to you just when the officers entered the venue. She was concerned about the screams she’d heard from across the building, but she was relieved to see you, Luna and Minjun chuckling outside the security room.

“Get it together,” she warned you with a grin. “The police are here. We want them to take us seriously.”

“Can we watch?” Minjun asked, nodding at the security room. One of the two officers had left the door open.

You moved closer instead of replying, and all four of you peered inside.

The space was cramped, but the scene inside the room was beautiful: Sid was on his knees, pressed against the wall, and he looked feral. His hair fell in aimless, overly gelled strands around his face, he snarled and barked at anyone who addressed him, and the younger officer appeared genuinely afraid to touch him for fear of getting his hand bitten off.

The other officer turned around in the meantime, noticing you. He approached, but Sid was yelling so much that the officer could not even ask you for a quick recap of what had happened before they got here. You understood what he wanted anyway, and leaned in to shout your explanation in his ear.

“He kept reaching into his pocket while talking to me,” you said, according to your plan. “I’m afraid he might be armed. We didn’t mention this on the phone so he wouldn’t hear us a-and decide to use it.”

There were no weapons, you were sure. You just needed the officers to check Sid’s pockets with intention, not merely graze over them.

The policeman gave you a nod and turned back to face Sid. The younger officer stepped back, seemingly relieved that he wouldn’t have to touch him.

“Stand up,” the senior officer ordered.

Mick let him go, and Sid jumped to his feet with such angry vigour that he collided with the metal table in the middle of the room. He cursed again and attempted to punch the table in irrational fury, hissing in pain the second that his knuckles connected with the surface.

“I am so happy,” Minjun whispered next to you when Sid leapt in the air in pain. “This is literally the highlight of my life.”

“Mine, too, I think,” Maggie agreed, snickering. “Wish I’d brought my camera.”

Biting back your own laughter, you shushed them so the policemen wouldn’t hear.

“Stop, stop,” the older officer was telling Sid. His voice sounded a little alarmed as Sid clutched his hand and spun around. “You’ll hurt yourself. Stand by that wall.”

Sid continued to mumble profanities under his breath, but he complied. The officer approached, gently kicked Sid’s shin to get him to spread his legs, and began to search through his thick jacket.

He meticulously patted down Sid’s shoulders, then his chest, until he pressed on something—the very something you and Minjun had hoped he would press on—and pulled back with a frown. A light bag, securely wrapped in cling film, tumbled out past the various zippers on Sid’s jacket and landed on the floor.

Across the room, Maggie gasped. Both officers jumped back as if a ticking bomb had fallen out of his pocket.

You noticed that Sid looked surprised, too. You glanced up at Minjun, and he gave you a solemn nod. He already knew that Jude had to rip Sid’s usual inner pocket to make sure the bag would fall out when poked with enough force.

The older officer was the first to react as he yelled at his younger colleague who quickly sprung into action and pressed Sid roughly into the wall, effectively restraining him again. The other officer then pulled out his receiver and spoke into it with such urgency that you almost began to feel uneasy, too.

“That—that’s not mine!” Sid protested despite struggling to speak with his face pressed against the wall. “I don’t know how that—it’s not mine, it—”

The young officer pushed him into the wall harder and said something to him, more assertive now that Sid’s rage was replaced with fear. You couldn’t hear what he said from where you were standing, but you could tell from the way Sid swallowed and quieted down that it was not a phrase of gentle encouragement.

“It’s not yours,” the older officer repeated as he pushed his receiver back into the case, “but it fell out of your jacket?”

“It’s—”

It took Sid two seconds to realise that he was in deep trouble—and another two seconds to make this much worse for himself.

“I was just taking it to a friend,” he said.

You could no longer suppress your smile.

The senior officer raised an eyebrow, then quickly lowered it. He refrained from asking further questions—although he certainly looked like he wanted to—knowing that it would only incriminate Sid more.

“You can tell us at the station,” the officer said, pulling out gloves and tweezers to pick up the small bag from the floor, careful, so the white powder inside wouldn’t spill out, “about whoever you were taking it to.”

Sid noticed the way the officer’s voice changed as soon as he mentioned this friend, and he realised what this must have sounded like.

“I—no. No,” he decided, his panic deepening. He knew that supplying was a much more serious offence than possession. “I wasn’t taking it to anyone. No one paid me. I’m not selling. I was just—”

“You’re going to the station,” the officer repeated. “You can tell us about your friend there.”

“I’m saying I—I lied!” Sid shouted. He sounded frantic, desperate, scared. It was perfectly musical. “It’s not—I wasn’t taking it to a friend. It’s for me! It’s mine.”

“Oh, this much?” Maggie called out.

You were startled by the abrupt sound of her voice. Sid was too, as he whipped his head around, forcing the officer cuffing his wrists to stagger on his feet and push Sid’s head back into the wall.

“Shut the fuck up,” Sid yelled, promptly interrupting the officer as he began to recite his rights to him. “I will fucking—I will kill you—I will fucking kill all of you, I swear—”

“Son,” the older officer interjected sternly, grabbing Sid’s arm from his younger colleague and dragging him towards the door of the room. Maggie pulled you and Luna aside to make room for them to walk past. Minjun stepped back, too. “I’d like to remind you that you are under arrest.”

“Fuck you,” Sid snarled, staring at Minjun.

He glared at him all the way down the corridor of the venue, straining his neck as the officers pushed him forwards, and you followed them outside. Just past the back exit, you and your friends stopped to watch—with immense pleasure—as they took Sid to their car.

“Jungkook will go down with me, you know!” Sid yelled, resisting their attempts to protect his head as they pushed him onto the backseat. “I’m his friend. He invited me!”

You saw his flaring nostrils from afar and you could tell how much he wished that Jungkook stood next to Minjun right now. How much he wanted to get one last reaction out of him, to threaten him with payback like he’d done to Minjun. And you were glad Jungkook wasn’t here to give Sid the satisfaction of being his punching bag one last time.

“Jungkook was the one who banned you from Rated Riot’s shows,” you reminded Sid as he kicked the seat in front of him. “That was why we had to call the police.”

“Your obsession with Jungkook is really unhealthy, by the way,” Minjun added. “Maybe you should work on that before someone realises how jealous you are. That’d be awkward.”

The older officer glared at Minjun, but there was a softness in his eyes that indicated he only meant to softly chastise him for this unnecessary addition.

“You fucking cu—” was going to be Sid’s last choral arrangement, but it was drowned out when the younger officer slammed the door shut.

The officer then walked around the car and got into the driver’s seat, while his older colleague stayed back to talk to you. He told you that he would have taken you to the station as witnesses as well, but he understood how busy you were. When he bashfully admitted that his daughter was actually in the audience of Rated Riot’s show right now, you felt so high that you could have easily floated away.

He pulled out his notebook and returned the subject to Sid, asking you to be quick and concise. He said that things did not look good for Sid either way, but the procedure required him to get your statements.

Your account was very straightforward: Sid had forced his way into the venue, yelling and cursing, and demanded to see you and Jungkook (Luna’s statement confirmed this: “It was frightening,” she’d said, “I thought he was going to hurt someone.”). Then, you called security. Sid looked irrational, almost crazy, and he resisted all of your efforts to restrain him. He threatened everyone, it was so very awful—and not entirely false.

Then, Minjun recounted how he’d heard Sid’s shouts from the smoking area outside, and Maggie told him about hearing the same shouts from the bathroom across the venue.

In the meantime, you shifted your gaze to the police car. The officer inside was stuck listening to a lengthy barrage of Sid’s curses—“fucking pigs, all of you”—and introductions—“do you know who I fucking am?”—but he did not turn his head to acknowledge Sid’s hysteria. You wondered if they had any spare muzzles lying around in the trunk.

The officer emphasised to you that, after the scene Sid had caused, there was little he could do to escape punishment. And you knew that the discovery of illegal substances on his person provided strong grounds for obtaining a search warrant for his residence—where you knew he kept the rest of his supply that Jude had made sure to spread around the room.

And now even if Sid evaded possession-with-intent-to-supply charges, even if he hired expensive legal counsel, even if he tried to bribe the officers and their dogs, too – this was done.

Sid thought he was invincible, he had escaped consequences his whole life. But Jungkook was his biggest weakness, and he was the one who brought the consequences to Sid.

You were dizzy with delight.

Jungkook was so worried about your plan that it lingered in the back of his mind all through the band’s performance. But then he spotted you sometime at the end of the show, smiling at him with the stage lights reflected in your eyes, and he completely forgot what you’d just done. He was just happy you were here.

It was Maggie’s side-hug as she walked past you and seemingly stopped to ask if you were okay that reminded him. And when you looked up at him again, meeting his gaze and nodding, he knew.

Sid was gone. And you were here.

Jungkook came very close to jumping off the stage and kissing you. He would have done it, really, everything else be damned, but the song change kept him in place. Rated Riot did not have many ballads—only two, maybe two and a half if you included the first half of “Haunting”—but the few that they had, came at this point in the show.

He stayed on stage, but he was still too excited to give the songs a proper mournful mood as he kept jumping and smiling into the microphone at all the wrong moments. Nevertheless, the audience greeted his energy with unwavering enthusiasm, and Jungkook thought that this night would become another memory—one of many, lately—that he’d want to stay forever etched into his mind.

By the end of the show, he felt like parts of his skin had caught fire. He was filled with so much energy that he could have walked to Paris right now and performed a show there immediately. He even frightened a few fans with his incessant jumping as the band stayed back for their traditional informal Meet & Greet after the show.

As soon as it finished, Jungkook made his way to you backstage—still breathless, shirtless, sweaty, and ecstatic—and hugged you as soon as he found you, despite your half-hearted protests. He was damp and sticky, and purposefully holding onto you tighter when he heard you complain about it.

Noticing the sight, the rest of the band members piled into the room, hollering war cries and jumping on the two of you in a chaotic group hug. With all five of you giggling and suffocating under each other’s weight, you didn’t notice Minjun and Jude lingering in the doorway.

You were greedy for a minute—maybe two minutes—as you soaked up the band’s bliss and enjoyed the moment before breathlessly telling the boys to go and have fun. They thought you were just saying that so they’d let you breathe, so naturally, they stayed huddled together longer, purposefully torturing you. They tousled your hair when they pulled away, and ran off, seemingly bouncing off the walls of the room as they went.

Jungkook wiped his face with a towel that he’d kept over his shoulder, his smile never ceasing. When you managed to tear your gaze away from his lips, you finally noticed that Minjun was grinning at you from across the room, with an uncertain Jude next to him. Minjun had picked him up immediately after the police left with Sid.

You took a step towards them, but Taehyung accidentally hit a few chords on his bass as he was putting it back into the case across the room—the melody held an uncanny resemblance to Queen’s “Another One Bites The Dust”—and all four members of Rated Riot, in various out-of-tune voices, immediately belted out the chorus, blocking your path with their haphazard gyrations.

There was cause for celebration—like there was every night, but tonight, especially—and you allowed them to pull you into their dance.

Jungkook was still humming under his breath when he led you to the side of the room a few minutes later, eager to learn more about Sid. You motioned for Minjun and Jude to join you, too, and then stretched up on your toes to find Luna and Maggie in the crowding room. They spotted you first and approached, bouncing with excitement.

Jungkook was patting Jude on the back, but the girls pulled all of you into another group hug that sent all of you into a new fit of laughter.

“The show was that good, huh?” Jimin commented, amused by your affection, as he finished setting up the drinks on the table next to you.

You extended your hand to make room, and he snuck into the very middle of your group hug, holding onto Luna and Minjun.

“It was!” you agreed. “We’re celebrating.”

“When are we not?” Jimin replied, readily accepting the glass that Maggie handed him once she broke the hug.

You and Jungkook distributed the rest of the glasses to your little group, and Minjun poured the tequila. Absolutely exhilarated, all of you clicked your glasses together, laughing and splattering your drinks everywhere. You were a little worried about Jude, but Minjun kept his arm on Jude’s shoulder, giving you a nod when you met his eye. He’d watch over him.

You downed your shots and realised belatedly that you didn’t have any chasers. Understandably, the only solution was to wash off the bitter taste with another shot of tequila, leading to a very entertaining rest of the night.

Just a few shots later, Jimin excused himself to find Seokjin. There was another bet backstage about whether you would finally drink after the final show in London—you hadn’t last time—and Seokjin owed him money.

Now, with only those of you who had plotted against Sid left in this corner of the room, the atmosphere darkened just a little. Your adrenaline had begun to wear off.

“Okay, I know we’ve talked about getting him arrested and whatever happens next happens, but I am curious,” Luna said, breaking the weighty silence. “How would it go in court? Hypothetically? Could he still avoid a prison sentence?”

You sighed. “He’s a first-time offender, so probably.”

“But wh—I mean, I actually doubt that,” Minjun interjected. “Considering the amount he has in his hotel room.”

You finished your shot before replying.

“There could be something else that makes the court lean towards a more lenient sentence, though,” you said. “He could—”

Minjun shook his head and cut your pessimistic approach off.

“Mitigating factors are good character, remorse, and proven steps to overcome drug use,” he cited. “Does any of that sound like Sid?”

You nodded, conceding. You’ve read about this together when you first began to plan Sid’s arrest, and Minjun had asked you the same question back then. Only a few extenuating circumstances could have applied to Sid, and even those were a stretch.

“Mental health could be a mitigating factor, too,” Jungkook added. “Sid is, I’m almost certain, insane.”

You raised your head to smile at him. At this point, everyone here knew that Sid was undoubtedly crazy or somewhere thereabout.

“That’s true,” Minjun agreed, smiling, too. “But they won’t release him back onto the streets, then. He’ll be institutionalised.”

“That’s good,” Maggie said, exhaling in evident relief. You hadn’t realised how concerned this change in conversation had made her feel. “I don’t want his ass coming anywhere near us.”

“He won’t be,” you assured. You may have been doubtful about Sid’s future behind bars, but you did not doubt that you’d never see him again. “If this won’t work, we’re all getting restraining orders.”

“Oh, nice,” Luna said, grinning. “We’ll save the officers some time if we all get one together.”

You snickered. “Exactly.”

Luna chuckled and stopped patting Maggie’s back to pour herself another drink. You and Jungkook both extended your empty glasses, too, and Luna playfully rolled her eyes before filling them.

“Honestly, I don’t even care what sentence Sid gets,” Jude said, and he began to stutter as soon as your little group turned to look at him. “I-I just want him to s-suffer a little.”

Maggie, ever as vindictive, raised her eyebrows at him. “A little?”

“For starters,” he clarified.

She nodded, much more pleased with this response, and broke into a lively tale about the positive feedback she received from Rated Riot’s fans after posting the blacklist—as though she was the one who had singlehandedly banned Sid—and the clouds of eerie disquiet above you quickly cleared.

Shortly after that, Taehyung grew bored and came to find Luna—with Jimin lingering by his side and playfully pulling Luna away from him. After Taehyung managed to run off with his girlfriend, Jimin changed his targets and continued his drunken twirling around a flustered Minjun, who kept insisting that he did not dance. Maggie had to pull Jimin away with an energetic pirouette, leaving the rest of you to yourselves.

Just then, Yoongi and Hoseok convinced Seokjin, Jimin, and Maggie to head back to the hotel, which was just a twenty-minute walk from the venue. They were all drunk enough to think they’d have a blast walking there and you had to dispatch Namjoon to accompany them. He was quite tipsy, too, but at least his limb coordination was not worse than it usually was. He’d drag them with him if one of them grew too tired of walking—you knew that one of them would and you gave Yoongi a knowing look before he left.

Minjun, Jude, Jungkook and you were the last people who remained in the dressing room to finish the drinks. You took this time to encourage Jude to tell you about what he did, and he shared the story about breaking Sid’s phone.

Happy and light from the alcohol, Jungkook wrapped an arm around your waist, allowing you to lean into his side as you listened. It was extremely relieving to laugh about everything that you’ve been through today.

“So, we’re done?” Jungkook asked after Jude finished. “This is it?”

You glanced at Minjun just as he turned to look at you; the two of you had developed a special bond over the past few days. Then you turned to Jude, too. Both of them nodded.

“We’re done,” you confirmed. “They arrested him.”

Jungkook’s arm around your waist tightened as he drew you closer.

“And the hotel room?” he asked then.

“It’s all there,” Jude replied. “I took care of it, but I-I barely had to do anything. Sid kept everything literally lying around.”

You nodded, relieved. “Good.”

“Really, Sid was the one who did everything,” Minjun added. “We just… made it more obvious. That still took a hell of an effort, but it’s all over now. Great job, guys.”

He leaned in to pat Jude on the back, and you reached out to give a supportive squeeze on Jude’s arm, too.

“We wouldn’t be here without you,” you told him, happy to notice that tequila had helped Jude’s tanned skin regain some of its glow. “The hard part’s finally over.”

“Fuck yes,” Jungkook exclaimed, perking up. “It’s fucking over.”

He reached out to high-five Minjun, then Jude, and you did the same, smiling all the while. You turned to Jungkook then, but instead of connecting your palms, he wrapped both arms around you and exhaled deeply against your neck. He settled in your embrace, showing no signs of moving anytime soon, and Minjun had to clear his throat, dramatically turning his head away.

Grinning, Jungkook released you but kept one of his hands on your back.

“Let’s head back to the hotel, yeah?” you suggested, and all of them nodded. “We all need to get some sleep. And I still need to take twenty showers in a row to get rid of Sid’s stench.”

Jungkook remained oblivious to his surroundings as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Mind if I join?”

“Ugh.” Minjun grimaced. “Get used to this, Jude, these two are fucking intolerable.”

Jude snickered at this, and you laughed, too, taking Jungkook’s hand in yours.

“Thank you for everything you did today,” you said, your gaze stopping on all three of them.

Minjun’s expression softened. “Oh. It’s all for a good cause.”

“Yeah,” Jude said. He appeared more certain now, his voice was louder. He lost Sid but found his friends. He’d be alright. “W-we did this together.”

You smiled and turned back to Jungkook. He gave you a quick nod, and you understood. Patting Jude and Minjun on their shoulders as you walked past, you excused yourself to give the three of them a moment alone.

“Seriously, guys,” Jungkook said after you left. Minjun was a little uncomfortable with the intense gratitude in his friend’s eyes, but Jude was extremely touched. “Thank you for this. You’re a fucking rockstar, Jude, shit. And Minjun, thank you for being one of the masterminds behind this. How are you so fucking smart, but friends with us?”

They all laughed at this, but Minjun shook his head while he did, lowering his gaze.

“It was mostly your girlfriend’s plan,” he said. “She, uh—she made sure my ass doesn’t get busted along with Sid, actually.”

Jungkook was beaming. He would never tire of hearing you referred to as his girlfriend. Actually, he would never tire of hearing people talk about you and him in the same sentence, but this was even nicer.

“Oh, don’t worry,” he said. “She’d have also found a way to break you out of prison.”

Jude nodded, agreeing very strongly. “I bet she would have.”

Jungkook chuckled. He never thought he’d see the day when you would become friends with his friends, and he felt a little unsteady on his feet.

This moment here, tonight, felt very different from what he was used to, but it felt right. He hadn’t even realised how heavy the rock with Sid’s name on it had been on his chest, and how light he felt now that it was pushed off. How light he felt now that he was here with his friends. How happy.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he told them.

“We’re glad to be here,” Minjun replied.

Jude cleared his throat and raised his glass. “Fuck Sid.”

It had become their mantra, and Jungkook raised his fist in the air.

“Fuck Sid,” he echoed, grinning.

He wanted to find some additional encouraging words, but he was starting to grow restless, shuffling his feet and scratching his palms. Minjun was quick to conclude that he was looking forward to finishing the conversation and leaving the room.

“Go,” Minjun told him. “Jude and I are going to go out for a smoke. We’ll see you later.”

Jungkook looked very grateful. He would not even pretend to protest.

“Alright,” he said, already walking away. “Save me one, and thanks again! You’re two of the coolest people I know. But she is the first one.”

Snickering, Minjun called after him, “rock on. And stay safe!”

Minjun and Jude could still hear his laughter, even though Jungkook had already left the room in a hurry to find you.

He spotted you by the exit, and as soon as you extended your hand for him to take, he ran the remaining few steps to get to you faster. He gave you a quick peck on the lips, and was about to open the door when you stopped him by pulling on his hand.

“Hold on,” you said. “I have something for you.”

Jungkook was a little puzzled—and very intrigued—as he watched you search the pockets of your jacket. Never, not even when he was dreaming and couldn’t control the signals that his subconsciousness was sending him, did he imagine you pulling out the keys to his Katana.

“Here,” you said. “Jude got them from Sid.”

He heard his friend’s name, and he saw the keys out of the corner of his eye, but his gaze remained locked on yours, as though fearful that this wasn’t actually happening, that perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him.

It wasn’t the keys that he had trouble processing. It was you, giving them back to him.

“I’m…” he faltered, the rest of his sentence never making it past his lips. He tried a different one instead. “Thank you.”

You shook your head. “I’m just the messenger.”

“Well, you could have told Jude to take them back to Sid,” he pointed out, his throat dry. “I think that’s, um—that’s what I would have done.”

Observing his flustered state, you raised an eyebrow.

“Why?” you asked. “Did you change your mind about the bike? Is the paint peeling off, so you don’t want it anymore?”

Finally, his expression lightened, and a tentative smile returned to his lips.

“No,” he said. “And it would still be beautiful even without any paint. It’s what’s on the inside that matters.”

You grinned. “Very gallant.”

He remained hesitant, however, and you raised your palm again to give him the keys. You knew how much effort he’d put into the motorcycle, even though there were moments, when you first came to manage Rated Riot, where Jungkook’s obsession with his bike seemed unhealthy.

Yoongi—the self-proclaimed expert—had said that he’d seen this behaviour in almost all his friends. He was convinced that Jungkook was trying to compensate for something. Trying to fill some void in his life.

You remembered hating these assumptions. They had felt about as dangerous as Jungkook’s casual declaration about the love of his life.

“It’s your bike,” you said to Jungkook now, the keys cold in your palm. “I know how much it means to you.”

He took a sharp breath and shook his head. He did love the bike very much—as much as one could love an inanimate object, and maybe a little more—but he’s come to learn that he would give it up in a heartbeat for the things that truly mattered to him.

“It—it doesn’t mean to me nearly as much as you do,” he said. “I gave it up to keep Sid away.”

You swallowed the bitter taste in your mouth.

“You couldn’t keep Sid away even if you gave up Rated Riot,” you said. “He claims that’s what’s bothering him, but it isn’t. Not really. He just can’t stand the thought that you are bigger than he will ever be.”

“Hmm.”

Slowly, Jungkook took the keys from you, the tips of his uncertain fingers grazing over your palm. He examined the keys for a minute.

“I can put the keychain back on now,” he said. “It looks wrong without it.”

This surprised you.

“What—the “JK” one?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “I had to change keys after I moved to a different apartment, and I put the pendant on these for the time being. It felt right, so I kept it there.”

He lifted the keys as he spoke and you frowned. You remembered the lurid—atrocious, really—pendant that you’d found at a fair and insisted on buying for him because it spelt out “JK” in large, jewelled letters. You were just drunk enough to find the flashy jewels enticing and very amusing.

You’d assumed Jungkook had put it on his keys as a challenge of sorts. It was very ugly and very far out of his usual taste in accessories, but you bought it, and he would rather cut off an arm than turn down a dare. You thought he’d taken it off after you broke up.

“You still have it?” you asked. “It was supposed to be a joke, I think.”

“Of course, I still have it,” he replied, almost offended. When he gave the keys to Sid, he kept the keychain. It was one of his most prized possessions. “It’s cute.”

“It’s huge,” you countered. “It ripped every pocket of every pair of jeans you owned.”

“That’s because they were shit jeans,” he said. “You leave my keychain alone.”

You snickered with a noncommittal shake of your head.

“Fine,” you said. “I’m glad you’ve grown so fond of it.”

“You gave it to me,” he said. “Of course, I’m fond of it.”

He slipped the keys into his pocket and gave you a wink as he did—to let you know that he didn’t mind ripping this pair of jeans, too, once he reattached the keychain. Then he finally opened the door of the venue and took your hand into his, leading you outside.

The hotel was quiet when you returned, but you didn’t have time to wonder where the rest of the Rated Riot members were—you’d have definitely heard them if they were here—because Jungkook pulled you into his room as soon as you climbed the stairs to your floor.

His bathroom quickly turned messy, with your clothes scattered on the cold tiles. Jungkook had the rare talent of figuring out the shower mechanism within a second, and the warm water washed over you as soon as you stepped into the cabin after him. The glass panels on either side began to fog when you slid the door closed.

You knew Jungkook preferred his showers ice cold, but the water right now was scalding hot. He didn’t even ask you about it, didn’t try to negotiate. He simply made this comfortable for you and wrapped his arms around you, his grip unreasonably tight.

Hotel bathrooms, you realised, had become a significant part of your relationship.

“You still have to show me your playlist, by the way,” he murmured, following the path of the water droplets down your spine.

You sighed, feeling his chest move against yours as he chuckled. “What do I have to do to get out of it?”

“Show it to me,” he replied. “And I’ll shut up.”

“You never shut up.”

He laughed again, pulling back slightly to look at you. His hair fell in clumsy ringlets around his face—not wet enough to fully straighten yet—and you needed to remind yourself to keep breathing in, then out. He leaned in, wearing a teasing smile on his face, as if he knew that you’d stop breathing again as soon as he did this, and pressed his lips to yours.

You could taste the liquor that you’d shared backstage on his tongue and felt his warm breath as he exhaled against your mouth. Your touch on his neck was so delicate that he wasn’t fully convinced it was you, and not the stream of water that touched him. He wanted to hold you tighter to really feel you here, and he lowered his hands to the small of your back, gently drawing you closer.

Steam rose from the shower floor, and the glass turned grey from the fog. Jungkook would have been suffering in this heat if he had felt any of it. All he could focus on right now was you, and how you still tasted like a distant dream, no matter how many times he’d kissed you.

The shampoo remained untouched as your fingers explored each other’s skin, jealous of the courageous water drops—they dared to touch everything that your hands longed to reach.

Eventually, he blindly found the bar of soap on the metal shelf behind him, and broke away from the kiss.

Before you could say anything, he instructed quietly, “turn around.”

It took a moment for you to comply—not because of some defiance, but because the tattoos on his arm, when they were peppered with glistening droplets of water, were captivating in a way that they’ve never been before.

He rubbed the soap between his palms and massaged your arms and back, lathering the foam on your skin. His touch was slow and careful, although not particularly calculated as his hands kept wandering to every soft part of you. Every single one of his caresses seemed to cleanse something from your skin that mere water could never wash away.

A soft sigh passed your lips as his fingers followed the traces of bubbles on your navel, and you forgot everything that you were still supposed to do today. By the time he leaned in closer, his chest pressed against your back as he ran his hands over your collarbones, your chest, and your stomach, you forgot everything you’d done before today, too.

You realised, as you felt his breath against your neck, how calm you felt. How absolutely at peace—and how much you’ve waited for this. How much you wanted these moments to stay frozen in time, just yours and no one else’s, surreal and dreamlike even as you lived through them.

Jungkook noticed your closed eyes, and whispered softly, “are you okay?”

You hummed. “I love you.”

He felt your heartbeat under his fingertips. He felt the way your words echoed in his chest. And he realised that he was stupid to think he’d already experienced every human emotion in his life, because these sensations in his stomach were new. They felt like scattered branches of fir trees. Like the sharp edges of young pinecones. They stirred within him like a forest of evergreen trees: vibrant, timeless, and beautiful.

You’ve opened something inside him that he didn’t realise had been closed. And you’ve closed everything he regretted opening. You were every breath he took, every scent he smelled, and every flavour he tasted. You were every beat of his heart.

He did not think he could ever adequately express the depth of everything you made him feel.

“Thank you,” he said, because he couldn’t not say anything, “for everything.”

You turned in his arms, a little confused about his abrupt gratitude. Jungkook swallowed hard, his gaze locked on yours.

“I can’t—I don’t know how to say what I feel,” he admitted. “You change my life every day. Maybe that’s all there is to it.”

The look in his eyes as he said this reached something very deep inside you—something that had been waiting for him every day for the past seven years, and all the years before that.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your head on his shoulder.

“I love you,” you said again.

“I love you,” he replied, pressing his forehead to yours.

You felt his chest move as he breathed, and you closed your eyes again. You knew now that this was your safe space.

Contrary to Jungkook, who needed company to drown out the noises in his head, you were very fond of your solitude. Being alone with your thoughts provided you with a sense of security that you could never find with other people—because, as much as you loved them, they were still other people.

Jungkook did not feel like other people. He felt like you, as much as you felt like you. And right now, with the water running from his skin to yours, you felt calm. Easy. Solid, but serene.

He was your safe space.

“I have a meeting with the executives when we get to Paris,” you whispered, your words barely audible over the running water. “And—also the law team.”

He stilled in your arms for just a moment, then his fingers went back to their race against the water on your lower back.

“They set a date?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “The day after tomorrow, before your first show in Paris. Nine in the morning.”

“Oh.”

Taking a deep breath, you said, “I’m going to tell them we’re together.”

He pulled back a little and waited until you lifted your head so he could look at you.

“Okay,” he said. “Are you sure?”

The question was painful. You made a mental note to show more confidence when you gave him the answers that he wanted—because these were the answers that you wanted, too.

“I’m sure,” you affirmed.

He nodded, running the tips of his fingers over the ends of your hair. “Should we—um, do you want to—”

“Let’s meet after,” you said, answering his half-question.

“Yeah? Coffee?” he asked.

You nodded. “Definitely.”

He leaned into you again, inhaling the smell of the lilac-scented soap on your neck as his arms found their way back around your waist, and he hummed against your shoulder.

“You know…” he murmured. “If I had your playlist, it’d be easier for me to wait until your meeting was over.”

Your cheeks stretched before you could stop your smile. “What playlist?”

The circles he was tracing on your back turned teasing, chaotic. He felt you squirm at the tickling sensation.

“Don’t play dumb with me now,” he whispered. “Give me the link.”

You pulled back and squeezed his forearms to get him to stop moving his hands over your sides.

“Say please?” you said.

The request took him a little off guard, but his surprise quickly shifted into an impressed grin.

“Hmm,” he said. “Is that how you want me? On my knees and begging?”

You shrugged, trying to fight against the fog from the shower as it began to gather in your head. “I do sort of like the image of that.”

“Please?” he said—right away.

You watched him for a second, your chest alight with flames, and you decided that with the subtle curve of his lips and the sparkle in his eyes, right now was the most beautiful he’d ever looked. It wouldn’t last, though. You were sure he’d take your breath away again tomorrow.

“Mm, I’m not convinced,” you said. “Say it with your chest.”

He poked his cheek with his tongue, giving his head a slight shake. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I know.”

He shook his head again, then took a deep breath and pouted his lips.

“Please let me listen to the playlist you made about me,” he said, making sure to keep his voice devastated. “Please, please, plea—”

“Alright,” you said.

He was already about to start arguing, but he closed his mouth and grinned instead.

“Oh,” he said. “That was easy.”

You gasped, but the offence that barely appeared on your laid-back features made him chuckle. Stepping back, you gave him a look that was only stern in theory—there was no serious substance in the soft shade of your eyes.

“Don’t make me change my mind,” you warned.

“You can’t,” he replied, pulling you back into him. He seemed to know no other way: you were very close, and his hands were free. Naturally, he was going to reach for you. “You made a promise.”

You frowned. “When?”

“When you got into this shower with me.”

Your brows furrowed further. “I didn’t promise you anything.”

“You did,” he insisted. He was grinning mischievously and his eyes were narrowed—you could guess what he would say next.

You still bit, “alright, what did I promise?”

He looked triumphant.

“To be with me for the rest of my life,” he said.

You clicked your tongue, but your expression was luminous despite your attempts to hide it.

“That has nothing to do with my playlist,” you said, deliberately looking away. “And I don’t remember promising that.”

“Hold on,” he said, turning his head to meet your gaze, and gently lifting your chin to get you to look at him again. “You have objections?”

You had absolutely no objections and he could tell as much from the sparkling in your eyes. But you weren’t going to make this easy for him, and he expected as much.

“I mean, what if you have a change of heart?” you said. “And then having me around for the rest of your life starts to feel more like a curse? Although that’d be fun for me, I imagine. I’d love to mess with you. But it wouldn’t really be fair to you.”

He found the suggestion ridiculous. His heart had your name engraved on it in golden letters. There was no situation, as long as you were with him, that he’d find unfair.

“Unless hell freezes over tomorrow,” he said, “I’d say your odds are good.”

The corners of your lips twitched. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “Having you with me will always be a blessing.”

The clumsy cartwheels of your erratic heart forced you to look away again, and you tsked, making his smile widen with each disapproving shake of your head.

“You know, you say things sometimes,” you said, “and I know you know exactly what you’re doing.”

“Really?” His voice was exuberant. “Are you swooning for me, then?”

You grimaced. “I wouldn’t call it swoo—”

“Getting weak in the knees?”

“I don’t get weak in the knees.”

“No?” he teased. “But I’m literally holding you up right now.”

You glanced down, as if to check, and took a moment before raising your head again.

“That’s—for different reasons,” you said, and remained, very comfortably, right in his arms.

“Different reasons,” he repeated thoughtfully. “Such as?”

You did not spare him a glance. “Maybe I just enjoy having you so close.”

His grin was so proud, so radiant that you could see it without looking at him. It was loud, too; it drowned out the sounds of the shower and all sensations of the hot water on your skin.

“Oh,” he said, drawing you closer to his chest in one remarkably swift motion. “Now you’ve done it.”

You craned your neck to meet his gaze. “Done what?”

“Now I’m never letting you go,” he said, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “Literally.”

You chuckled softly and allowed him to drown you in his touch. It didn’t matter anyway—you couldn’t breathe very well unless you felt him next to you.

“That’s hardly possible,” you teased. “We’re very busy people.”

“I’ll make it possible,” he said. You remembered having a similar conversation with him before, but he had significantly more confidence in his voice now. “We got Sid fucking arrested. Everything else is easy. I can figure out how to keep you right next to me for every second of every day for as long as we both live.”

You were a little concerned that so many years had passed since you met, and the butterflies in your stomach only seemed to grow larger, bolder, and much more restless with every passing day.

“I still don’t think that’s possible,” you replied quietly, “but I don’t mind seeing you try.”

“Good,” he said, lifting his head to look at you. “You know I’ve never lost a single challenge I’ve accepted.”

You lifted one eyebrow, amused by his claim.

“Technically,” you said, “you lost the bet to Sid.”

“Oh—” the syllable got caught somewhere in his throat. “Fuck.”

He looked almost appalled, and he suddenly felt a little nauseous, too.

“Too soon?” you asked. Your lips twitched as you fought back against your laughter.

He dug his teeth into his lower lip and wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, maybe a bit.”

“Oh, no,” you whined. “Should we avoid talking about it? Is this a taboo topic?”

He watched your theatrics and realised that anything that didn’t kill you really did make the two of you stronger, because he had convinced himself that he’d never survive the aftermath of the bet—and now you were teasing him about it.

“No,” he said. “No, you’re right. In the grand scheme of things, I’ve done far stupider shit to have you with me again, so we should be able to joke about this.”

“Exactly,” you agreed, grinning. “At least you didn’t get a concussion this time.”

Jungkook didn’t think that not having a concussion was what made this better. Although, to be fair, he hardly remembered anything after the forgotten kettle fell on his head while he was trying to plan a date night for you—but really, you were more hurt by his pain when he told you about it years later than he was in the moment it happened.

“I hurt you, though,” he said slowly. “That’s worse.”

You gave a firm shake of your head.

“It wasn’t the bet that hurt me,” you said. “But you fixed every problem that did. We actually put one of them in the back of a police car tonight. And you and I learnt how to talk to each other in the process. Look at us now.”

He felt his heart pick up speed, but he was still hesitant to agree. He didn’t think he’d ever have the right to make the first joke about the bet, however harmless it could seem years from now.

He nodded slowly. “Hmm.”

“Next step is learning how to shut up,” you added.

Looking up from the tiles of the shower floor, he took a moment to register the playful glint in your eyes.

“Is—is that supposed to be directed at me?” he asked, squinting.

“No, I meant that in general,” you replied. “But if the shoe fits…”

He scoffed, sliding one of his hands down your arm to intertwine your fingers.

“Oh, if the shoe fits,” he repeated. “Alright. Did you go to Jin’s school of comebacks?”

“I did,” you played along. “And graduated with honours.”

He nodded. “I can see that. Teacher’s pet much?”

“Very much.”

His grin was criminal, and you wanted nothing more than to feel it pressed against your lips.

“Well,” he said, bringing your hands to his shoulders and pulling you closer, “I do enjoy it when you listen to me. And when you do what I tell you.”

“Hmm.” You ran your tongue over your lips, and he was thoroughly infatuated with the look in your eyes at the moment. “That implies you’re the teacher in our relationship.”

“Am I not?”

“You haven’t taught me anything.”

He snorted, dignified. “I’ve taught you plenty.”

“Name one thing you taught me,” you challenged, but you were smiling at him, and he struggled to keep his train of thought when he looked at you.

“I—well, I taught you to play guitar, didn’t I?” he said.

You frowned, baffled by his interpretation of the word “teach.” You remembered the nights when Jungkook tried to learn guitar, and you were forced to listen to him whine about how there had to be something wrong with him—because, of course, if he couldn’t immediately excel at something, that had to mean that he was the problem.

“Is that what you think you were doing when you were learning it yourself?” you asked. “Because not only did you break all six strings, but the neighbours started banging on the radiators, and we—”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupted. The night you were talking about wasn’t his best, but he’d improved considerably since then. “I also taught you how to fight.”

“And then forbade me from punching Sid,” you countered. “Doesn’t count if I can’t use it.”

He rolled his eyes. You waited for another example, even though he was notoriously terrible at teaching others—to be fair, he rarely ever had to learn things himself; usually, they really did come naturally to him—but Jungkook stayed quiet for a few minutes.

“Well,” he finally said, “I taught you how to stop running from your feelings.”

“You—” you stopped your instinctive rebuttal and took a moment to look down and calm your heart instead. “Okay. Yeah. I suppose you did teach me that.”

“That’s right,” he said, happy to finally gloat. “Be a good student for me, and kiss me now.”

You looked up, distracted but amused. “Oh. Is this assignment going to affect my final grade?”

“Mhmm. It’s worth 75%.”

“Hmm. So, I have to put in some effort, I guess.”

He nodded while his hands roamed on your skin absentmindedly. “Might take you all night to finish it.”

“I don’t know...” you said. “I was never very good at pulling all-nighters.”

“Maybe that can be something else I teach you,” he murmured, close enough to touch your lips with his own as he spoke.

You whispered back, “maybe,” and he chose to reply by finally pressing his lips to yours.

He kissed you like he would countless times in the future, and the teasing promises of forever seemed to solidify inside you, like invisible tattoos that ran across your souls. And you remembered, because how could you not, about the first kiss that led you to this moment.

It was seven years ago, at the end of your second date, after you got back from the carnival where he claimed to have asked you to be his girlfriend. He had whined about not being able to walk you to your door after your first date—you were both wet from the rain, and he wasn’t allowed into your dormitory—so you snuck him in this time.

But he got too nervous in the end – he walked you to your door, hiding his trembling hands in his front pockets, and said goodbye to you, all while nearly suffocating from his anxiety. He’d already started to walk away, but then stopped abruptly and turned back. You were still standing there, watching him, your hands not reaching for the door handle. You looked like you knew he was going to turn around.

He reached you in two quick strides and connected your lips with so much force that your back hit the wall. He cupped your cheek with one hand and placed the other one on the wall behind you—and your breath never made it out, losing its way somewhere in his mouth. You’d kissed him back, your body trapped between the wall and his chest, and you thought you’d never feel quite as dizzy as this again.

Years later, in the shower of his hotel room in London, Jungkook kissed you again and again and again, and his lips still made your breath hitch, still made the room spin out of control.

He kissed you and every single time, the feeling of his lips on yours made your head feel light. He kept one of his hands on your cheek, the other one on the wall behind you—like that very first time—and you remembered wishing, seven years ago, that the night wouldn’t end. That he would stay, with his lips locked on yours, his touch warm and silky.

You remembered counting, too, how much time was left until you inevitably had to say goodbye. It had all felt so dramatic back then, so temporary. There was so little time, and so much you still had to do, so much you still wanted.

Tonight, the edges of the sky outside the small, shaded bathroom window were turning red; the sun was rising.

You counted again – there were five minutes left in this night, and you already had everything you wanted.

chapter title credits: bad omens, “feral”

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[sv5hive]

all's well that ends well | lh44

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem!reader

content warning(s): suggestive content? (like one little comment nothing outrageous

word count: 2,107

note: this is a part two to this fic! thank you to the anon who gave me the idea otherwise i would have been stuck for ages!! so happy so many of you enjoyed it and i hope you enjoy this one just as much 😚🫶🏻

(masterlist!)

you let out a shallow sigh as you gently pushed the door closed with a click. last night's fight had plagued your mind and haunted your dreams meaning you had gotten almost no sleep at all. you just wanted to get all your stuff and find a small place to rent while you looked for a more permanent place to stay.

but lewis had other plans.

"hey, baby-"

"don't call me that, lewis. i thought i made it clear last night that it was over. i thought i also made it clear that i didn't want to see you again."

"ok, ok. i'm sorry. i just, i know i fucked up. but i can make it right again. i promise."

"like how you promised we would have a normal life together? i don't want to wait anymore, lewis. i told you this already. now please, let me just get my stuff and leave."

"no, just, just hear me out on this. i can't imagine how you felt while waiting for me to finally catch up to what you realised a long time ago. but i have been in love with you since the day i met you and if i let you walk away again i would never be able to live with myself."

despite what you had said earlier, you didn't hate him. and lewis could see you weighing up the idea in your head.

"saying it is but proving it is another. otherwise your apology means nothing."

"ok. yeah, ok i can do that."

he grinned at the possibility of winning you over.

"but, i need space. so, i will be getting my stuff and leaving."

"wait! you can stay here. i'll go, it's only fair."

"don't be silly, lewis. i still have my hotel room booked don't worry about it."

"no, no, please stay here. this house is yours as much as it is mine. don't worry, i can find somewhere else to stay. i know how you get sleeping in a bed that's not yours."

he knew you too well.

"ok. uhm, thank you, lewis."

"you don't need to thank me. i'll see you soon?."

"ok, yeah. see you soon."

you thought sleeping in your own bed would help you get a good night's rest but you seemed to toss and turn for hours on end. looking to your left, the digital clock on the bedside table screamed some unreasonable time in blinding red. you huffed before realising that maybe it wasn't just the bed. after all, all those years you slept in this bed you weren't sleeping alone. eventually, you did manage to fall asleep at some ungodly hour after scrolling on your phone mindlessly. but not without pondering how lewis was planning to change your mind.

the next morning you were awoken by a knock at the door. rolling your eyes, you readied yourself to turn lewis away but instead you were met with a bouquet of flowers on the doorstep. you peeked your head out to see if the person who dropped it off was still around but it was like they had disappeared into thin air. bringing the bouquet to the kitchen to place in a vase your eyes caught notice of a note gently tucked into the leaves.

thank you for giving me a second chance. you won't regret it.

he was making it hard to stay mad at him. you pulled out your phone and sent him a quick text.

thanks for the flowers.

anything for you. and i meant what i said.

read 9:26 am

humming along to the radio, you plated up your lunch and made your way to sit at the counter to eat. the recent weather had been unusually pleasant with the sun shining all day, and you thought about going for a run outside when a text popped up on your phone.

do you have any plans tonight? it read.

you debated lying to him but you had already finished with your work that day and you found yourself wanting to see him again after a little bit more than a week of being apart. you typed out your reply after a couple of seconds.

depends. what do you have planned?

it's a surprise.

you grinned.

i'll pick you up at 6.

oh and can you wear that black dress again? the backless one?

read 12:46 pm

you felt your face go warm at the reminder of what happened the last time you wore that number. god damn it. no matter what he would always have that effect on you. looks like you had something to look forward to tonight.

you smoothed away imaginary wrinkles while obsessively checking your entire appearance over in the mirror. it felt like you were doing too much but then again, you had to show lewis what he would be losing out on if he couldn't convince you. before you could check the time there was a knock at the door.

you calmed yourself down and opened the door to come face to face with lewis.

lewis swore he felt his world stop spinning.

"you- wow. you look...as beautiful as ever. seriously, why were you ever dating me?" he eventually managed to get out, audibly breathless.

your giggles filled the air as you hoped your makeup meant he couldn't see your entire face going red.

"you look, ok." you were lying straight through your teeth. he could make a trash bag look like a designer outfit and you both knew it. he found it funny enough to let out a chuckle though so maybe it was the right move.

"oh and uh, these are for you." as he remembered the bouquet of baby's breath, white chrysanthemums and blue hyacinth in his hands that he painstakingly put together himself.

"oh they're lovely. thank you. i'll just go put these in a vase and we can go."

he couldn't mess this up now. not again.

"ok, do you plan on telling me where we're going now or is it still a surprise?" you asked locking the front door and heading towards the car.

he opened the passenger door for you as you got in.

"y'know there's a saying that goes something along the lines of 'good things come to those who wait'. you ever heard of that one?" he retorted before getting behind the wheel.

"hmmm, i don't know. doesn't really ring any bells for me."

"that's too bad because i'm still not telling you."

"fine, be that way."

he looked over at you staring out the window refusing to spare him so much as a glance. you always have been a stubborn one he thought. shaking his head with a smirk, he began driving.

you were definitely surprised when you two arrived at the restaurant you raved about months ago - you didn't think he had been fully paying attention while getting ready for bed. now sat down at the secluded booth, you couldn't help but grin at the fact while in awe of the decor. all lewis could do was admire the pure joy and glee present on your face.

"what? why are you looking at me like that?"

"like what?"

"y'know, like that."

"i don't know what you're talking about."

all the other patrons must have been irritated by the way you two couldn't stop chatting and laughing as the bottle of wine dwindled down over several courses of delicious food. but if it meant he could see you so happy after everything he put you through he was ready to pay for them all to leave.

"so i've been thinking, and, i'm ready to take the next step with you. don't worry, i'm not about to get down on one knee right now, but i just thought you should know."

"what changed your mind?"

"i should've listened to you but instead i was an idiot and i let you leave. i'm sorry for that. and everything else. i guess seeing you walk out really brought me to my senses."

"yeah? well i'm glad it did."

"and i am absolutely ready to retire and start a family with you-"

"what?" you almost spat out your wine.

"i've thought about it and i want a family with you more than anything."

"no, lewis, i won't let you do that. you love racing. you said it yourself it's your whole life!"

"not anymore. i want to be there for you and i can't do that if i'm away driving every weekend."

"i can travel while pregnant, lewis. i'd follow you until i am physically unable to and we would be waiting for you until you come back home. i know how much racing means to you and i will always support you. besides, wouldn't you love to have your kid cheer you on in the garage?"

you two were cheekily grinning now at the prospect. he couldn't believe how lucky he was to find you.

"are you sure? it's not going to be easy."

"yes, of course i am. i've been sure for years, lewis. you were the one who wasn't ready."

his smile faltered a little as he wished he could go back in time and tell himself to get his act together. he couldn't change the past but he was damn well going to change your future together.

"ok."

"ok."

to everyone else in the restaurant, it seemed like a normal date, but if lewis kept his word then it meant the start of a completely new chapter in your relationship.

"you ready for this?" you were in awe of the man stood in front of you.

"more than ready."

"stay safe, ok? we want you back in one piece."

"of course. anything for my two favourite girls."

he placed a kiss on your forehead before taking the toddler from your arms.

"you ready to see daddy race? hmm?"

lewis nuzzled his nose against hers and placed gentle kisses all over her face, prompting an endless symphony of infectious giggles.

he had been absolutely petrified when you told him you were pregnant. he wanted nothing more than a family with you but babysitting nieces and nephews was very different to having your own child. even after all the baby books, birthing classes and packing dozens of hospital bags, lewis still almost passed out when your water broke. and if you weren't in excruciating pain due to your rapidly growing contractions, you would have teased him for his panic.

soon enough, his daughter was placed into his arms for the first time and all of a sudden there was nothing to be anxious about. he could still visualise the moment perfectly and yet somehow failed to describe just how he felt looking at the little one's face. she was the perfect mixture of the two of you.

"i'm so proud of you, my love. you know that right?"

season after season, he was left fighting in the midfield when he was finally given a championship contending car to restore his former glory. it was clear to everyone that lewis was more motivated than ever and that he just needed a car good enough to take him back up to the top step. all the late night meetings and simulator runs had finally paid off, as the legendary eighth world championship was won just a few races ago.

now, as you helped him prepare for his final race in formula one, you looked fondly back on the beginning of your relationship. you had everything you always dreamed of and you wouldn't trade it for the world.

"i couldn't disappoint my biggest supporters!"

"even if you didn't win we would still be your biggest supporters! isn't that right, my sweet girl?" you tickled your daughter as she curled back into lewis' neck to evade your hands.

"thank you."

you looked back at him with furrowed brows while fussing over the toddler.

"what for?"

"for everything. for taking me back, for making me the happiest man in the universe. twice, by the way."

you beamed from ear to ear at the reminder of the wedding that awaited you next year. he had proposed to you just before you found out you were pregnant and it felt like your life was falling into place at last. studying his face, you felt content knowing that you were truly meant for each other. nothing else mattered more than what lied ahead of you and you couldn't wait to experience it with the man you had fallen in love with years ago.

"i would do it all over again in a heart beat."

note: omg. it's literally 1 am but i had to finish this before my random streak of motivation ran out. i didn't think so many people would want a part 2 like i was so shocked at how many people enjoyed part 1!! never thought i'd get 10 notes let alone 100+ you are all tooooo kind 🥹

[eowynstwin]

There has been more than enough drama about this whole situation so I will be as direct and concise as I can. This will be my last post about the matter regarding Myka/codslut. This will likely be my last post on this blog period.

This fandom community has crucified me over a story that has fallen apart over what I can only describe as the lightest scrutiny. FOIA requests, when expedited, have a ten day window to be granted, not a twelve hour window, and normally take months to even years to grant. Americans do not call small towns villages. Crisis workers do not have unfettered, immediate access to clients' personal information, let alone that of complete strangers on the internet.

I am not exaggerating when I say I have feared for my safety for the past week. The three people who have lead the charge against me have slandered, harassed, and outright stalked me—keeping track of posts I've made and deleted, changes I've made to my directory, and even the time between posts I have made. I have genuinely feared that the next step these people were going to take would be to search both of my blogs (because I have not, in the past, been very concerned about hiding my main) for my personal information in order to dox me.

I believe this campaign has been racist ("gaz erasure my ass") and ableist in nature. I believe my being autistic—and my trouble communicating in a way that could satisfy the aforementioned people this entire week—has played a part in the way this fandom has victimized me.

I believe in particular that sheheal has a personal vendetta against me, although I do not know why. I believe that their claim that they must leave their blog up as "evidence" is false—I believe they are keeping it active in order that it should always be digitally connected to me, and thus risk my safety and peace in whatever online space I choose to be in next. I am entertaining the belief that she even intends for it to follow me in real life, although that may be more paranoia than possibility.

I am aware of the mistakes I have made. I regret them. I am sorry for them. If what has happened to me is representative of what happened to Myka, I have nothing but empathy for her. Even before this happened, I would not wish this on anyone. I do not believe that dogpiling is justice, and have fought against it when I have seen it happening in this fandom in the past. I did not and do not want this to happen to anyone, ever, no matter their sins.

I want to extend a gratitude I find difficult to express the depth of to everyone who reached out to check on me. I especially want to thank Early for being the first person to stick their neck out for me, and for everything after. I hope to be friends with you all for a long time. You mean more to me than you know. You have made a lonely and difficult week feel less lonely and difficult.

I do not want to be a part of this fandom anymore. I have poured over a year and a half of work and creative energy into this community and it has meant nothing. I have loved this community and it has meant nothing. I have fought for this community and it has meant nothing.

If fandom was ever a safe space, it is not anymore. It is not safe for those affected by racism and it is not safe for those affected by disability. It is not safe for anyone who makes mistakes. It is not safe for me, and reader, it is not safe for you. I did not think this would happen to me. Do not make the mistake of thinking this won't happen to you.

[kokomyass]

JJK Characters ☆ That time of the month...

JJK x Fem!Reader

Genre: ☁️

Trigger warnings ⚠️: swearing, crack

featuring: Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Toji Fushiguro, Choso Kamo, Ryomen Sukuna

synopsis: in which, the jjk men are out buying you supplies for your period, some with more experience that others....

notes!: in sukuna's part, he is true form and has like a kinda palace thing going on yk....

a/n: thought of this idea, liked it and wrote it!!! I hope you enjoy 💜🍇💜🍇

~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~

Gojo

"Heyyy babe....so about those pads you wanted me to buy....you kinda failed to tell me that there are pads for every colour of the fucking rainbow!"

You had to use all your will power in you to not start laughing at Satoru through the phone, which would consequently lead him to hold a grudge.

"Satoru, I told you to get the ultra maxi pads with wings, remember? How difficult is that?" you nagged as you heard a frustrated groan through the phone.

"Well which colour is that? Cause there's no way I'm reading allat-"

"Gojo!!" you didn't usually call him by his first name it was an easy way to show your annoyance.

"Okay sorry!! Well, Y/N, there are like 5 different ultra maxi pads! How the hell am I meant to know which-"

"Satoru, with wings."

You heard the line go silent as you heard rustling assuming he had picked the pad up.

"So...um I found it....I'm gonna get myself out of this aisle because thanks to you I embarrassed myself in front of all these experienced women."

All you can do is giggle at Gojo's dramatic ass.

Nanami

You hear the door to your house open as you lay in bed curled over from the pain your cramps are giving you.

You hear your husbands soft footstep approach your bed as you open your eyes slightly to see him bent over cupping your face careful not to wake you up to violently.

"Hello sweetheart, how are you feeling?" you hear his deep, smooth voice whisper out.

"Well...I feel like shit, but now that your here I wanna cuddle with you. It'll make me feel better."

Nanami chuckles as he sat on the bed, extending his arm out to let you cuddle with him.

"Just to let you know, I went out to buy some night and day pads, tampons just in case your in the mood to use them and your favourite snacks to keep you going. They are all here if you need." Nanami said, as he gently brushed your hair as he felt you squeeze tighter.

Nanami looked down as he heard sniffling later realising you were crying after looking down at your face.

"Honey what's wrong? Did I miss something?" Nanami's heart dropped.

"No, the absolute opposite. You always get everything right. Nanami, have I ever told you how madly I am in love with you?"

"Frequently."

Geto

You had sent Geto out to do some period shopping and by that you meant shopping for pads/tampons and snacks.

When you were on your period, you were EXTREMELY snappy and emotional. This time of the month was one Geto feared all the time. One small thing could make you flip out.

"Hey babe! I'm home!"

You were sat on the couch wrapped in blankets as you watched TV.

"I got your stuff babe, snacks, pads and all..." Geto placed a kiss on your head before sitting next you. You took the bag from him searching for your favourite sweets.

"Thank yo-...Where are my skittles, Geto?"

Geto's heart dropped. He had completely forgotten to buy that and he regretted his life choices, but it was too late because you had already started crying.

"Ughh, I really wanted those skittles...why do you always forget Geto!" you sobbed angrily as Geto pulled you apologising profusely.

"I'll go out and buy more baby....I'm sorry...."

"NO. I WON'T WANT THEM ANYMORE!" you shouted at Geto as you stood up angrily walking to you bedroom as Geto sighed letting his head fall back on the couch, choosing to let you come to him in your own time.

Time Skip

You had guiltily shuffled out of the bedroom and sat next to Geto leaning into him as he let out a sigh of relief.

"So, you feeling better??"

"Yeah, sorry babe....I overreacted. My favourite sweet isn't even skittles..."

Toji

"So babe, what size is your pussy again?"

Toji was a man with no shame and clearly no brain. He went out to get pads for you forgetting to ask what type you needed.

"Wh- Toji!! How many people are in that aisle!?" You heard Toji chuckle at your very valid question, given what he had just said.

"Princess, listen, that doesn't matter right now. Just tell me your fucking pussy size."

Before you could scold Toji and maybe educate him you heard another woman's voice through the phone.

"Um sir, just to let you know you are rather loud...and pad sizes are based on the amount of flow not-"

"Did I ask?" Toji spat.

The woman's mouth shut as she spluttered trying to say something back before Toji diverted his attention back to you.

"There is like ultra large....do you want that cause I know how big-"

"Toji don't you dare finish that sentence. Just get me large ones please...and for the record it is based on your flow, so you had no right shut that poor woman down like that."

"I call it what I want to call it, and that's pussy size."

Choso

You currently had a stuttering Choso on the phone who was clearly pretending he wasn't embarrassed.

You had sent him out to get some snacks, hinting that it was your time of the month but you didn't ask him to get pads or tampons fearing it would be too much for him to handle.

"So....um...Y/N, do you....erm do you want me-"

"Choso, baby, please spit it out." you giggled at how flustered he was as it wasn't a common occurrence.

"Do you need...pads...?" he whispered the last bit so you could barely hear.

"What was that?"

"...pads...." you had made out that he said pads.

You let out a loud laughter that could be heard through the phone, shown by the fact Choso was hushing you.

"Y/N, stop laughing! Yes or no? If yes, what type?" you could tell he was trying to be vague.

"Choso you are so cute, yes I would like some please can I have some night pads? I have enough days ones."

"Okay! I got this....okay see you and love you!!" he cut the phone after chanting to himself that he had the power to pick one product off an aisle.

All you could do was chuckle and feel warm at how much he cared for you...even if it was embarrassing for him....

Sukuna

You were giving Sukuna his daily massage in his throne room despite your cramps from your period. You didn't want to tell Sukuna that you were on your period because whenever you did he became a bit too overprotective in a murderous way....

However the cramps were unbearable.

"My Lord...May I be seated?" Sukuna's head whipped around and looked up and down your body before nodding slightly, tapping his leg indicating for you to sit there.

You sat down on Sukuna's crossed legs resting your head on his broad chest as you sighed squinting your eyes at the pain.

Two of Sukuna's arms were wrapped around your waist whilst the other two were on the floor. He tighten his grip on your waist as if he knew you were experiencing pain.

Suddenly a sharp knock was heard at the door.

"You may enter." Sukuna's gruff voice sounded out.

"I have the pads and tampons and foods you requested, Lord Sukuna." Uraume entered with a box placing them at your feet. Leaving promptly.

"It is your time of the month, is it not?"

You eyes widened as you looked back at him to see him looking down at you.

"Y-Yes my lord...how did you know?"

"I keep track in my own manner." you didn't even bother to ask how that was.

You knew Sukuna wasn't exactly the loving type, but you couldn't help but wrap your arms around his neck.

"Thank you, my Lord!" he places one of his hands on your back not saying a word just letting out a huff. After a while he mumbles out.

"It's alright woman...."

~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~

a/n: I hope that was good and all those true form sukuna fans out there hmu 😜

love you!! 🍇💜🍇💜

[neptuneiris]

sparks (03/04)

Did i drive you away?

pairing: business-boyfriend!aemond x fem!reader

summary: at the beginning your relationship with aemond is perfect and there were no worries. until he becomes the Heir of his father's company, the most important in the whole country and certain events and certain people start to interfere in the relationship.

word count: 8.8k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

there will be an epilogue coming soon!

here it is finally! thank God!

I'm so sorry for the delay beautiful people, it's been heavy weeks where I was writing parts but I couldn't finish them, so my writing time was extended more because I didn't finish, plus I moved, my cat is lost and I've felt very sad about that, besides college, presentations and more, but seriously I love writing, it's my way to escape, so I didn't feel any pressure, don't worry about it :)

I hope you like this new chapter a lot, I'll be waiting for your comments, so enjoy and thank you so much for your patience and support!

In the midst of your relationship with Aemond, things between the two of you are charged with tension.

After the conversation with his grandsire, Aemond's suspicions could not have been more accurate because of the way he behaved. Despite everything he told him and left him thinking about the future of the company, he still tried to talk to you about it.

But you, again, did not let him.

Aemond had to go back to work, just as you also went back to taking care of your own responsibilities such as college.

Aemond's life was still immersed in a whirlwind of responsibilities and commitments. From the moment he woke up, got ready and set foot inside the company, he was already doomed to a busy day.

He had to attend meetings with his key executives, discuss financial analysis, take online conferences, answer emails, calls with partners and clients.

Every moment his desk was filled with reports, financial projections, documents and more that he had to review in detail. Not to mention that the partnership with Alys Rivers is still ongoing.

Still he would make the effort to get home early and spend time with you, every night making an attempt to talk to you about what happened that night, but you wouldn't let him, as you had things to do as well.

If not college, then work, besides having to clean the apartment, do laundry and make food, which Aemond offered to help you with, but the two of you feel completely distant from each other.

Because both he and you know that things between the two of you just aren't right.

They are not since that one night nor does it help you to read every moment in the magazines how Alys Rivers has been seen entering the Targaryen building, where Aemond is always mentioned as well and he assures you that they only had meetings even though you don't even question him about it anymore.

Each of you is immersed in your own thoughts, Aemond feeling helpless, frustrated and sad, his gaze reflected by a deep regret in his heart at not being right with you.

And although he wants to find a way to fix things, you don't want to create any more problems, more than anything else you don't want to interfere between his grandsire and him.

And as the days turn into weeks, communication is no longer paramount, the whole relationship feeling like emotional paralysis, with no clear path of how to reconnect where you hide in your to-do's and Aemond barely has time to spend time with you.

So you find it easier to forget about it and wait for him to do it too. But inside you are still just as hurt, humiliated and sad.

And that little free time he has left for you is simply not enough to try to talk to you, besides you won't let him.

Until that time of the year when Aemond has to travel to attend social events or board meetings, also to meet with his partners around the country to oversee the expansion of the company.

Until he tells you that the first trip will be to Storm's End with his brother Aegon, then to Highgarden and Winterfell with Helaena and at the end to Casterly Rock… with Alys Rivers.

And that you definitely don't like to hear.

"I'm not traveling with her, we're just meeting there for the event."

He lets you know as he starts packing his bags for this two-week trip and you help him out, because even though you're both going through a silent fight, you still care about him and have always helped him with this kind of thing.

But you do feel that discomfort all over you knowing that she is also going on a trip to the same place as him. And Aemond knows it as he watches you out of the corner of his eye, knowing your mannerisms very well.

"Eleanor and Cole will be with me the whole time," he tells you softly, "And I'm already preparing everything with my publicity team for when the press starts publishing pictures of her and me, I don't—

"It's okay," you tell him softly, placing his ties perfectly in the suitcase, "I understand."

He watches you for a few seconds without saying anything, as you continue to put his clothes away the right way, feeling his gaze on you but not watching him back, to which he lets out a long breath.

"I just want to make sure you'll be okay," he tells you just as softly as before, getting up to stand next to you, "I don't want you to be worried all the time. You know I would never do anything to hurt you."

You press your lips together, watching him for a few moments to refocus on the suitcase.

"Yes, I know," you tell him to cut the subject short, saying nothing more.

At this Aemond watches you with some sadness, concern and anguish, but at the same time with love and tenderness, desperately longing for you to share more of your thoughts and emotions with him without pressuring you.

But since he knows you won't, he chooses to hug you.

And he does it carefully, tactfully, knowing that at any moment you may push him away, but to his surprise, you feel your high barriers of defense crumble at that moment, his gesture catching you off guard.

And you with a little hesitation, in the end decide to hug him back, since of course you missed him just as much as he missed you, both of you sinking into a soft and comforting embrace, where finally just for that moment, everything feels right.

There is hope.

Aemond feels his whole body stop tensing the moment he feels your arms wrap around him to hug him back, he lets out a long breath and pulls you tighter against him, hiding his face in your neck.

And you hide your face in his chest too, inhaling his comforting scent, feeling at home again.

"You know you can come with me, right?"

He murmurs in your ear, making you smile softly against his chest.

"I'd love to but I can't. I have to work and attend my classes."

He lets out a resigned sigh.

"Then on your vacation we'll arrange a trip, I promise," he tells you then leaves a soft, tender kiss on your forehead.

You raise your gaze to him as he lowers his so he can watch you.

"Like when you took me to Winterfell?"

"Yes," he smiles softly, "Now where would you like to go?"

"I don't know," you shrug, "Maybe to the Iron Islands?"

"Perfect."

He tells you then leaves a soft kiss on your lips which you reciprocate, both of you pulling each other back into a tight embrace where neither of you want to let go.

And even though Aemond doesn't want to ruin the moment and the fact that possibly this invisible barrier between the two of you will no longer be there, he feels it's the perfect time for you both to talk about the topic you've been putting off that needs to be talked about.

"Y/N, about that ni—

"We need to keep packing."

You interrupt him instantly, gently pulling away from him and turning your gaze back to his suitcases, causing him to look at you sadly for a few moments.

"But—

"I'll go get your shoes."

You cut him off again, to start to move away from him and head towards the huge closet, leaving him with no choice since you definitely don't want to talk about it.

After that moment you both went through, that comforting moment, fortunately you don't feel that emotional distance anymore, since now you both sleep hugging each other, share breakfast and dinner together, also share about how the day went, like before.

Even on some nights there are movie nights, where finally Aemond finds that comfort in your arms, hugging and kissing you at almost every moment.

And you too after a stressful day at work or you are going through a lot of stress because of your classes, you hide from the world in his arms, feeling good and being that exactly what you need.

Until the day comes.

Aemond has to leave.

You drive him to the airport, where his private jet will be waiting for him along with Cole, Eleonor, you understand, his agent as well, and other security people.

The goodbye is hard, even though he's had to leave for business trips before, so neither of you know why. And by the time Aemond's jet flies, that discomfort returns throughout your body and so does that uneasiness.

At all times he lets you know of what he's doing, or at least the important things, like that he's already landed and also that he's already arrived at Aegon and Cassandra's penthouse where he'll be staying.

Before when he went on a trip he also did the same, letting you know where he is and what he will do, mostly to keep you informed, even now he sends you pictures of his breakfasts and also some views from Aegon's house.

You are more concerned that he is well and of course being miles away, it makes you feel safe that he talks to you about what he is doing and what he will do next, like attending those social events which is what he travels mainly for.

Until the day of the important event arrives.

Being at work, about to finish your shift, obviously you are not allowed to have your phone at hand, but when the time comes and now you have to go to class, when you look at your phone, you see severe messages from Aemond and also the notification of a link to a magazine.

This immediately tells you bad news.

And it definitely is when you read the title of what the magazine link is about.

Alys Rivers, co-owner of Riverlands Group seen at Storm's End… click for more.

You click on the link, curious, attentive and with a frown on your face.

The very famous businesswoman, soon to be partner of the important company Targaryen Inc, Alys Rivers has been spotted at Storm's End to attend an event attended by the most important businessmen from all over the country, among them, Aemond Targaryen. She has been spotted an early partnership between them but rumor has it that there may be more than just a partner relationship. We have also been informed that Rivers will be attending the same events as Targaryen in some parts of Westeros where Targaryen Incorporation has distributions of his company, so it is no coincidence.

After reading this, you read Aemond's messages, getting an idea of what they are about.

And you… you don't even know what to think anymore, let alone feel.

It makes sense that he didn't know anything, since at this point after what happened with his grandsire, it doesn't surprise you that he didn't tell him anything because he knew Aemond would do something to prevent it.

And how convenient that also Alys didn't report anything about her presence at all the other events since it was only known that she would travel to Casterly Rock.

Later that day you see how Alys does indeed show up at the Storm's End event and Aemond quickly sends you a picture of everything, of him with Aegon, Cole and Eleonor, wanting to make you feel at peace and safe.

Then later he sends you picture of him arriving to his hotel room, he even sends you a voice message telling you about everything that happened at the event, he tells you that Alys talked to him, that again she tried to cross physical boundaries but he wouldn't let her.

Also that they both had to take pictures together, but nothing else.

And the next morning there are a lot of videos and photos of the event where he is with his brother, his partner Borros Baratheon and more businessmen.

There are also the photos of him with Alys, even videos where the two of them talk and she again touches him on the shoulder and arm like that, smiling flirtatiously at him all the time, but Aemond turns away from her to go to some men.

It's as if she knows that at that moment there are many cameras around and they are recording, so you get the impression that she is doing it on purpose.

But all you can do is really nothing since Aemond is the one telling you everything to make you feel calm, so you just continue with your daily routine, focusing on work and your classes.

Although of course unconsciously your mind is on Aemond and his trip, also on her.

Fortunately what comes next is more… relaxing.

The next event is in Highgarden, where once Aemond lands, he sends you a picture of him with Helaena, where he tells you that she sends you greetings, both smiling at the camera, making you feel a comforting warmth all over your chest as you see the picture, smiling softly.

During the whole trip in Highgarden there is nowhere where Aemond is not with Hel, even in the event when he is around Rivers, Hel is always with them.

The same happens in Winterfell, as Hel must also attend as she is the one who made the partnership with the Starks possible.

Aemond sends you picture of her very comfortable on one of the jet couches, also of the two of them having dinner and watching a movie, even at the hotel they both ask for a room for the two of them with two beds.

At the event also the two of them are together, there is even a very professional photo of the two of them with their partner, Cregan Stark, where he with Hel give a welcome speech to all the guests and then Aemond with him make known the innovations in their companies thanks to the partnership.

It's simply all work, as it should be. You even see Rivers in some photos and videos, but compared to Storm's End, she doesn't look very pleased lately.

Until the moment comes when Hel will no longer be in Aemond's company. And from then on, you can't help but feel uneasy.

And apparently Aemond also feels the same restlessness as you do despite the miles of distance that separate you.

He sends you pictures of absolutely everything, from the moment he starts his day until it ends. He also tells you what he's going to do, even if it's taking a shower, yet he tells you to let you know that's why he won't write you back quickly.

He even sends you video of what he will eat, mostly to let you know that there is no one with him in the room if that is your concern, also at night, telling you that he will go to sleep.

Honestly, Aemond has never done this before on a trip and even though you didn't ask him to, as if wanting to see where he is and what exactly he is doing, wanting to check on him at all times, Aemond does it for your peace of mind.

And without wanting to, you already find yourself waiting for him to send you picture or video of what he will do next, feeling paranoid and to some extent a controller.

You know that this is wrong, that it is not necessary, that neither of you have ever acted this way before and that it is as if you want to know Aemond's movements every second in an unnecessary and… toxic way.

And it's not right, you know it's not.

But Aemond feels that need and so do you, even if you don't want it, you feel that need to know that Rivers is not taking advantage of your absence and worse…. That he is giving in to it by making the partnership possible.

But Aemond would never hurt you, he has told you that and you know that, but you also know as well as he does that he has the eyes of almost everyone on him and will have problems with his grandsire by the time he returns because of Rivers' disconformity.

So even in the event, Aemond feels more that need to let you know that she's not around Rivers, that he's not doing anything wrong or giving her and him anything to talk about.

And the worst part is that you are there, attentive, waiting and watching it all.

Even after the event is over, Aemond tells you that he's going back to his hotel room, telling you that he's going to take a shower. Then he sends you a picture of him brushing his teeth and then another one of him in bed and at an angle so that you can see that he is all alone.

And only at that moment, for two full weeks, just this very night you feel completely calm and at peace, knowing that he is coming back tomorrow and will be by your side again.

And you don't understand.

You just don't understand what happened to both of you.

You don't understand how you went from having the most beautiful and healthy relationship ever, to this, where both you and he acted in a toxic and completely unnecessary way.

And when you least expect it, tears begin to flow from your eyes as you stare at the dark ceiling of the room, alone in the huge bed, with frustration and sadness completely invading you and loneliness settling in your heart.

You are honestly afraid.

In the midst of your storm of emotions, you fear that the beautiful and healthy connection with your boyfriend will soon be gone. You're afraid that the relationship will become toxic.

You just don't want to lose the intimacy and complicity you both have to be replaced to this, the insecurities and these needs to look good and want to prove that neither of you, especially him, is failing in the relationship.

And with everything that's going on, the company, his grandsire, Rivers, you have no idea how to fix it.

Aemond's arms wrap around your body tightly, clinging completely to your figure, holding you tight against him as he hides his face in the curve of your neck, inhaling of your soft scent that drives him absolutely crazy.

And you reciprocate his embrace in kind by slipping your arms around his neck, hiding your face between his chest and neck, leaving a soft kiss on his cheek to cling to him again.

"I missed you," he murmurs lovingly and almost melancholy in your ear.

You hug him tighter, lovingly, as you place a small smile on your lips.

"Me too, babe."

He too leaves replete kisses on your cheek, tucking you back into his body, not wanting to let you go, while to you all his scent and the feeling of being in his arms is more than gratifying, being just what you needed.

He strokes your hair as he inhales deeply, not being able to get enough of it. And neither of you say anything else, as actions speak for themselves and what two need, is the touch of each other.

It was two weeks but for both you and him it felt like months.

You both look at each other and he leaves a soft kiss on your lips which you reciprocate as you both have a small smile on your lips. Then you both separate and start to head towards the car once Cole and the other men help Aemond to put his suitcases in the trunk.

All the way he keeps holding your hand, while you drive to the apartment and he talks to you about everything that happened on the trip.

"Our trip to the Iron Islands will now be easier," he tells you proudly and visibly excited.

You are glad to hear that the companies are doing well and that he has had friendly meetings with his partners, in fact you tell him so, as he smiles softly throughout and thanks you.

He also gives you the news that he will have a meeting with Rodrik Greyjoy very soon that involves talking about plans for an early partnership between Pike and Targaryen Inc.

You hum in agreement, smiling softly.

"I could tell," you look at him for a second to refocus on the road, "I'm sure your conversation with him will go well. But you want to go on a trip there too?"

"Sure," he tells you willingly, holding your hand against his lips, "They say it's a beautiful place. I've seen pictures too," he says then leaves a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

Once you both get home, you help him with his suitcases and unpacking, while now you tell him about your days at work, college and also here.

Fortunately for him and you, it's Friday, so you both stay home and rest. He tells you that he won't be going to work Saturday and Sunday, so you have the whole weekend for the two of you.

You still have to work Sunday afternoon but you don't mind, it still won't be long, so you enjoy and take advantage of these free moments with your boyfriend.

Later that same night you both resume your nights of intimacy, which is something Aemond had longed for since you both had that fight after the event, leaving after traveling not too soon after that was just awful for him.

First you both take a little nap where nothing feels better than sleeping in each other's arms again, both of you without being an inch apart from each other in the huge bed.

Then when you wake up you go together to the supermarket to do the week's shopping and at the end you stay in the living room watching movies.

And it was also something you craved.

Obviously you're not as insatiable as he is, as Aemond really can't get enough of you when it comes to sex and really takes all his time with you. This time is no exception.

But once that glorious weekend ends and a new week begins, you both resume your routines from before and in which he simply has no time for you.

Again Aemond tries to do everything in his power to come home early and spend more time with you, which is something you consider and are grateful for his effort, as you knew that sooner or later he would have to go back to his old busy routine.

Not being on good terms with his grandsire, having to attend meetings and phone calls from his partners, making and reviewing reports, delaying as much as he can the partnership with Rivers just so he doesn't have to see her, it's too much.

And little by little, although he doesn't want to, he returns to his exhaustive routine of before and in which unfortunately also affects you for seeing him only at night at a very late hour.

Although he still does everything he can to make sure that work doesn't take up more of his time than it should.

You continue as normal, going to work and attending your classes, but you find it again sad and annoying that you are again having less time with Aemond.

As well as what you didn't want to happen.

And of course Aemond would have to explain himself, having that need like on the trip so you wouldn't think other things, telling you all the time, either by message or in person, that nothing happened, they just talked about work and nothing else.

Sooner or later Alys Rivers would reach her breaking point, so if Aemond wasn't looking for her, then she would be looking for him.

So you had to go back to reading magazine articles online where they talk about how they've seen her in the Targaryen building and so on.

That's how things were going on for a few weeks, almost for a month, until again and unexpectedly, Aemond has to travel again.

Aemond is technically not yet the head of Targaryen Inc, his father is, but due to his health, he must attend for him.

Again to Casterly Rock to an important event and also to a conference where Aemond will meet with the board of directors and his partner Jason Lannister.

Other businessmen will also attend as it is a general event and heads of major companies all over the country are in attendance.

The news of having to travel again catches Aemond and you off guard, explaining that the board meetings normally take place in November, but that they are earlier this year.

So as soon as he gets the news, he starts preparing everything for his trip, even preparing work papers and other preparations for his presentation at the conference, while you again help him and make sure he misses nothing.

He can't miss his meeting with the board of directors, it is paramount and a really big commitment, so you understand but you are disappointed all the same.

Honestly you are disappointed that you have to be separated from your boyfriend again, as you were not expecting to have to stay home alone for a week again.

The event lasts two days and Aemond will have to travel there from before to ensure his presence and avoid any unforeseen events as it is an important event.

Until again when you least expect it, the day comes for Aemond to leave.

He paces back and forth, making sure nothing is missing, while you help him finish packing one of his two suitcases, while he talks on the phone to Criston and then to Eleonor to continue making sure he has the right information about what time he has to board his private jet.

You then head to the kitchen and make a quick breakfast for him and yourself, you also make him a cup of coffee and ask him to stop for a few moments to get some food in his stomach, to which he does while still busy on his phone.

"Which hotel?"

You hear him ask Eleonor as he takes a sip of his coffee.

"Ah, yes, that's fine. But… about the documents, did I bring the folder with me?"

You at all times stand still, eating your breakfast and listening to what he says to Eleonor back.

"Okay, I'll go check," he says and quickly heads back to his office, still holding his phone to his ear.

You continue to stand still, as you watch him disappear down the hallway and let out a breath, not really being able to do anything since you know him too well and he always gets paranoid when he has to travel, making sure to get everything ready one last time.

A few minutes pass and finally Aemond stands still in the kitchen to finish his breakfast, though when he's done he heads to the bedroom to check his suitcases one last time and start placing them in the hallway for when Cole arrives and he has to take them down to put them in the car.

He paces back and forth, wasting no time, watching his wristwatch every second, counting down the time for when Cole arrives and he has to leave.

You meanwhile take his briefcase and place it on the island with you, waiting for the moment when he has to leave.

When they start calling him.

You look at the screen and see that it's about his grandsire, causing an unpleasant feeling all over your body as you remember the way he treated you last time, but you quickly let Aemond know.

"Your grandsire is calling you!"

Aemond comes out into the hallway with one of his suitcases.

"Please pick up, love."

You nod and accept the call, put it out loud and resume your breakfast.

"Aemond?"

"Yeah? What's wrong?" he exclaims from where he stands.

"How's it going, son? Are you ready?"

"Yes," he replies with a little force in his voice, securing his suitcase one last time, "Cole should be here any minute."

"You got all the conference details?"

"Yes, Eleonor mailed me everything," he says as he walks over to the island and pulls the phone towards him to take a sip of what's left of his coffee cup.

"Very well. Then you'll meet Alys and her uncle at the airport, I've offered them to travel with you, after all the three of you are going to the same place."

You immediately stop chewing, as well as your whole body stops moving, standing completely still and with tension all over your shoulders.

Aemond also immediately watches you, instantly realizing your reaction, but you look away from him trying to appear indifferent and with the lump in your throat you go back to chewing, bringing your cup to your lips.

You feel your heart start to beat wildly, feeling instantly how your tranquility disappears and suddenly you feel overwhelmed by all the mixture of emotions that invade you.

Meanwhile Aemond frowns and with a bewildered and also annoyed look, quickly turns back to his grandfather.

"What?" he snaps at him.

Otto Hightower lets out a long breath on the other end of the line.

"Aemond—

"I didn't even know she was going to the event too and why are you telling me this now?" he inquires her completely serious, in an annoyed and deadly tone.

"Because I knew you would do anything to avoid it and I wasn't going to allow it. We're so close to signing the contracts and I knew this was going to please Alys, so she'll see you at the airport and I expect… that you'll give her a good treat and please her for the entire trip."

A shiver of jealousy, insecurity and sadness runs through you, as you bite the inside of your cheek and try to act nonchalant about it all, but you know you're not good at hiding your true emotions and Aemond sees that, not liking his grandfather's words at all.

"Have you lost your fucking mind?"

He inquires him just as serious and annoyed as before and Otto sighs.

"I'm not having this conversation with you again, Aemond. Grow up and do what you're told if you want your company to survive."

"Maturity doesn't mean I have to do everything you say!" he exclaims angrily and exasperatedly at him.

"For the love of the Seven, it's only a flight, stop acting like a fucking little child!"

Aemond sighs and runs a hand over his face, wearily.

"I can't believe you're doing this to me."

"Everything is already decided. You're going to have to deal with it, whether you like it or not, I honestly don't care. And I hope..." he begins to say in a threatening tone, "That by the time you get back, Rivers doesn't cause a scene for me again because of your lack of commitment and interest."

"That's your problem and hers, not mine. When I get back I want to have a serious conversation with you."

And finally Aemond hangs up annoyed with his visibly frustrated face, where in comparison to him, you hide your emotions, not wanting to frustrate him more with your behavior upon hearing this new travel plan, acting disinterested.

So you try to make yourself really look carefree by taking your dirty plate and cup to the dishwasher, starting to wash them, not observing Aemond at any moment, fearing that he will notice your true state.

While you at all times bite the inside of your cheek, resist the urge to cry and insecurity as well as a host of other frustrating emotions completely invade your body.

And Aemond immediately notices, because he knows you too well.

So feeling the weight of the situation, he stands up with an almost tired face and walks towards you, instantly slipping an arm around your waist to turn you towards him and leave a soft kiss on your forehead.

Something inside you snaps as you hear this.

"I know what you must be thinking, but you have nothing to worry about."

He says softly, hugging you tightly and lovingly, holding you close against his body.

"The only one I care about is you and I promise I will stay in touch with you for as long as I can."

And a realization comes over you, holding you completely still against him.

"No matter how busy I am, I will always find time to call or text you, just like last time," he promises you, wanting to comfort you, "I will do everything I can to keep you calm while I'm away."

You feel that realization hit you all at once again and with your gaze gone and your lips parted you just blink, because suddenly you don't have the strength anymore, for anything.

And because of your lack of response and movements, Aemond separates his head from your shoulder to watch you, still hugging you tightly and not wanting to let you go until he is sure you will be okay, watching you with concern.

"Hey, did you hear me? You will always be my priority, no matter where I am."

"Tell me you understand, please love," he pleads with slight anguish, completely attentive to you, holding your face with both hands gently in a desperate action.

He assures you firmly, wanting to make you understand and wanting you to say something back, anything. But you just watch him for a second, then stare at a spot in the kitchen and say nothing, your face without much expression.

With a lump in your throat, because you really can't speak, you feel like a fool even though it's part of all the emotions you're feeling at the moment, unable to help it.

"Good," he murmurs confidently, feeling a little calmer and leaves a soft kiss on your cheek, to pull away and continue to prepare everything for when he has to leave.

So the only thing you can do, is that nod in his direction, without uttering a word. And apparently, that's good enough for him.

Aemond continues to make sure he has everything ready in his suitcases and that nothing is missing, leaving them by the doorway.

While you watch him silently, still with all that overwhelming mix of emotions invading your mind. Again you feel your strength drain away and anxiety takes over, with an ache beginning to spread throughout your chest.

While he in comparison to you is calm, unconcerned, having no idea of everything that is going through your mind at that moment, making you feel bad to be thinking this now.

How cruel am I going to be?

You wonder with sadness, as you bite the inside of your cheek and try to hold back the tears that want to come out of your eyes. You don't want him to notice your agitation, at least not yet, but it's getting harder and harder to control it.

You love him.

You love him deeply.

You know that perfectly well. There is no doubt about it. And you know he loves you too.

But it all comes to your mind hitting you like a violent wave, drowning you, the magazines, his work, the association with Riverlands, the event, his grandfather, the press, his travels and Alys Rivers.

You watch as he ready waits for Cole with his phone in hand at the entrance, typing quickly, assuming he must be texting him, with the suitcases at his side and his face of concentration.

"Love, could you hand me a folder I left on my desk, please? It's black."

He asks you while at the kitchen island he hurriedly checks his briefcase, as you bite your lips and swallow hard.

"Sure," you say without much emotion and head for his office.

When you return you hand him the folder and he thanks you to arrange everything perfectly back into his briefcase.

"Cole won't be long, we're already late," he speaks to you also in a hurry, "If you need anything you know you can call me. But you can also call my mom if you need someone to come over, she's going to Oldtown for another two months," he lets you know, "Okay?" he watches you for a moment and you force a small smile, nodding in his direction, "Okay," he mumbles.

And he disappears back into the room, mumbling that he hasn't taken his jacket, while you watch him, standing still again with your hard face, wondering:

How cruel am I going to be?

Then Aemond stands still again at the entrance to the apartment, answering a call from Cole.

"Have you arrived yet?" he pauses slightly, "Fifteenth floor, C100. All right," he ends the call and looks a little more paranoid, turning to his suitcases, "Almost leaving, love."

You don't say anything back, you just watch him and feel that lump in your throat again, wanting to talk to him but the words get stuck, feeling more of your anxiety, agitation, sadness and anguish, with tears in the corners of your eyes, not being able to control it anymore.

How cruel am I going to be?

It repeats constantly in your mind until the tears fall down your cheeks and that pain in your chest gets stronger, watching it without being able to contain your emotions anymore.

"I can't do this anymore," you say in a shaky voice, getting his attention.

Aemond looks away from his phone and watches you, where your state slowly takes him by surprise and he watches you completely attentively, a little confused, not understanding, starting to worry.

"Love—

"I know it's not your fault," you make it clear to him, starting to cry loudly, shaking your head, "But I can't anymore."

Aemond surprised, quickly turns to you, trying to speak.

"Y/N—

"The first time you went to Casterly Rock with her, I wasn't at peace. I was scared and not for you, but for her," you confess to him, sad, "And you sending me pictures and videos of where you were and what you were doing, made me feel like we didn't trust each other."

"Y/N, I only did it so you would be calm and safe while I was away," he tells you in a soft, confused voice.

"You don't understand," you insist, "That made me feel like a controller, like you think I need to be constantly watching everything you do, and when had that ever happened on your previous trips?" you inquire, "It hadn't been like that since she—

You stop, not wanting to say more, as you sniffle and wipe your tears with your fingers, lowering your gaze, sorrowful, sad and disconsolate.

Instantly Aemond stops in front of you, trying again to hold your face in his hands, completely worried.

But before you can say anything, the doorbell rings at that moment and you both know who it is, Cole. But despite this, he continues to be attentive to you.

"My love, I understand," he says softly, wanting to comfort you, "I understand that you don't trust her, I understand your reasons, but—

"It's not just her, it's also what happened at that event, the press wanting you and her together, the magazines, your grandfather, and I-I…" you sniffle your nose, "I don't want our relationship to become a toxic one."

At that moment Aemond looks at you completely unsure, his heart beginning to pound, his gaze completely intent and anxious.

"What? Y/N, what are you saying?"

How cruel am I going to be?

"I can't anymore, Aemond," you tell him in your completely broken voice.

He watches you silently, his lips parted, fully inspecting your expression, beginning to feel his pulse quicken a little too much, understanding perfectly what you are implying.

When again you ring the doorbell, which catches your attention amidst your trail of tears but not him, he remains attentive to you, not caring, beginning to feel a huge void in his chest, incredulous, advancing towards you in a needy manner.

"Y/N, don't do this."

"I don't have a choice," you tell him in pain and he again tries to take you in his arms.

"But—

There's a knock on the door, interrupting him, as he feels a painful lump form in his throat and he looks at you in complete shock, disbelief and hurt.

"Listen, can we talk about this when I get back, please?" he asks pleadingly, holding you by the waist firmly, not wanting to let you go, "Just…" he shakes his head anguish, "Wait for me, okay? And when I get back, we'll talk about it."

You shake your head, pointing your gaze at the door for a second.

"You must leave now."

And Aemond becomes more concerned about this, seeing the determination and defeat in your whole look of sadness, giving this up now and not intending to wait for him, beginning to feel his eye begin to burn and despair along with anguish invade him more.

"Sir? Are you there?"

You hear Cole ask from the other side of the door, but Aemond pays him no attention, wanting to fix this, desperately.

"Yell at me," he implores you, "Get angry, reproach me, anything you want, anything but this, please, I beg you."

You close your eyes, swallowing hard.

"Sir? I'm sorry but we must leave now," Cole again speaks from the other side of the door, "Your flight departs in less than an hour."

And al Cole again knocks on the door in desperation, clearly because he has to do his job and you're taking advantage of it.

You open your eyes and both of you stare at each other without saying anything, where you just wait until he has to leave, your face completely devastated.

But he barely processes what's happening, his eye reddening and his heart rate racing, waiting for you to understand and say something back to him.

"Go now," you mutter sadly to him.

"No, I'm not leaving until I fix this," he tells you desperately, on the verge of losing patience, "Just…please don't do this, not now. I-I don't… I don't want to lose you."

"Your grandfather will be upset with you."

"I don't fucking care about my grandfather, Y/N! Right now I don't care about anything, just this, us!"

Cole again knocks on the door, insistent.

"Just fucking wait!"

He yells at Cole desperate, upset, distressed, his emotions running high, not being able to control himself anymore and you decide that enough is enough, because Aemond won't leave, then it's best that you leave.

"I'll be leaving too."

You know that this trip is very important to him and you still love him too much not to worry about his work.

And the last thing you want is for you to be the reason for not being on time, which could lead to him not doing well at his event and conference with the board and his partner.

You murmur to him with a broken heart and turn around, walking towards the room, instantly being followed by him.

"No, Y/N, please, just wait," he tells you more pleadingly than before, "I promise you this whole thing with Rivers will be over soon, I promise!" he insists, "Or not, I just won't make any association with her, I can find another way for the company, I don't care what my grandfather says or—

"You can't do that and you know it. The company depends on hers."

"But you can't do this! Not now, please!" he exclaims in frustration, starting to cry.

And just as you're about to go into the closet to grab your clothes, he stops you, turning you to him to hold you and make you look at him, make you see how devastated he is, definitely not expecting any of this at all, feeling completely helpless and powerless in the face of the situation.

"Please Y/N, please," he says to you with a broken voice, as he puts his forehead together with yours for a moment, starting to tremble and feel an unpleasant sensation all over his stomach.

And seeing him like this completely destroys you.

You've never seen him like this before, you know you're breaking his heart and more by breaking up with him now, like this, like you're taking advantage of the fact that he has to leave to get on a plane.

How cruel am I being?

And even though you didn't want to do it, at least not now as he is asking you to, you know this is necessary.

Because you know that if he gets on his jet with her and you and he are still together, you will not be calm at all, you will over think things, things that are not.

If the partnership with Rivers passes and you and Aemond are still together, you will feel the same insecurity as always because the two of them will be partners and will have to keep seeing each other for the report of both companies coming together.

You will feel controlling, he will have this need to want to be good to you in an unnecessary way and you will just feel bad about yourself. And it won't end there.

And you'll have to keep putting up with the press, the boundaries Rivers oversteps, what Otto asks Aemond to do with her and the necessary justifications from him to you.

"I'm so sorry," you tell him with tears streaming down your cheeks and your face completely broken.

And Aemond shakes his head in frustration, in hopelessness, closing his eyes tightly, not believing it, not accepting it.

"Wait until I come back so we can talk about it and work it out. Don't end things like this, please," he tells you in a broken voice, starting to cry, "I-I love you."

"I love you too," you tell him the same way he does.

"And if you love me then why are you leaving me?" he asks you in a painful voice, not understanding.

Your whole face transforms into anguish.

"Aemond—

"Please don't leave me," he begs you once more.

Silence envelops you, where you both cry, you completely broken and he in complete despair, in the room where you both have shared so many special moments throughout your relationship, in the apartment where you began to form a little life together.

The air is charged with so much tension and nostalgia, where you both suffer from an intense mix of emotions, where you both suffer equally, as everything feels unreal, so suddenly and without time to react.

And Aemond tries to find any hope of being able to hold on, to get you back. But in the depths of his broken heart, he feels and knows that he has lost the battle.

And you also feel and know that this has been necessary, as broken as it has made you feel and in which you know, you are probably not going to fully recover by doing this.

The last thing you see of Aemond is how with his completely devastated look he watches silently as you pack some of your clothes in a bag to leave, still not accepting it, completely broken inside and imploring you with his gaze not to do this.

But you knew that if you didn't leave, he wouldn't leave and it's important that he catch his flight to Casterly Rock.

So without even saying hello or giving Cole a glance, you leave the apartment quickly with tears streaming down your cheeks, walking away from there and him.

You arrive at Floris' house in search of temporary lodging where she opens the door and you burst into tears in her arms, without even being able to talk to her about what happened when you cried uncontrollably.

And after a few hours, the next thing you know from Eleonor, simply because you needed to know for the last time, is that Aemond managed to get on his jet at the estimated time to land promptly at Casterly Rock.

She tells you that it was difficult but that they managed to convince him. And that's the last you hear from him.

Despite your determination to move on, every day at all times you can't help but feel a deep sadness and a sense of loss that won't leave you alone.

Letting go of your relationship with Aemond is difficult, you just can't. And rightly so if it's only been weeks, because leaving him behind, feels like giving up a very important part of your life.

You tried to find comfort in your daily routine, classes and work, but everything reminded you of him, all the time you were thinking about him and when you least expected it, you were already crying again, without being able to help it.

At night it is more difficult, you feel completely alone, you cry until you fall asleep, you questioned what you had done and in the middle of everything, you miss him deeply.

Days after Floris accepts you in his house, you immediately request a room in your university's residence halls and fortunately there is one available near your Marketing department.

You asked Floris to please accompany you to the apartment to get the rest of your things, which she did not hesitate to do in order to support you and also help you, taking advantage of the fact that Aemond was still away.

You did everything as fast as possible, not wanting to remember and think too much, you just wanted to get out of there with your things, avoiding to feel and let all the memories consume you, because you couldn't stand it.

A few tears escaped you, but as soon as it happened, the two of you left the apartment, locking it and slipping the key under the door, so as not to return it to him in person.

After a while, exactly after the week in which Aemond would already be back in King's Landing, he started looking for you through messages and calls, begging you to please see each other and talk.

Feeling even more broken, you decided to block him from everywhere, which caused him to come looking for you at work, hoping to talk to you.

But as soon as you recognized his car parking on the street, you quickly hid in the small back rooms, begging Sophie to cover for you.

You later found out that Aemond had been texting your mutual friends, asking how he could find you, where you lived now, wanting to sort things out, unwilling to let the two of you end up like you did.

Hel messaged you, so did Daeron, even Baela, but you decided it was best not to respond, because if you did, you would agree to talk to Aemond. And it broke your heart not to reply to any of them, especially Hel, but you know yourself too well and you did it for your own good.

But you never let him find you, because you knew you'd go back to him the minute you both sat down to talk and that's not what you want.

Not with his grandfather and Rivers still behind him.

Until one day Aemond stopped.

He stopped trying to find you and stopped asking your friends where you might be, you also stopped reading about him in magazines and social media. You read about his family, but nothing about him.

And so it went for a while, for about two months, where you to this day do not heal and you keep thinking about him, finding it strange this new life without him.

When one morning, a magazine article and almost all the social media announce a news that makes you understand now a little more the disappearance of Aemond not only from your life, but also from the world, surprising you.

You read the news in complete disbelief, thinking of Alicent, Hel, Daeron, Rhaenyra, everyone, but most of all him.

You know what this means, the note itself says so, but even though you knew it was only a matter of time, as Aemond told you, you are still surprised to see this, surprised that it has already happened.

Suddenly you feel a need and urge to text or call him, but you know it's not a good idea, yet the urge is there, thinking about how he must be feeling and all that he and his family must be going through.

Fortunately you don't do anything, but this leaves you thinking.

After almost everyone reads this news, the whole Targaryen family is kept in hiding, there is no sighting of them, no statements and absolutely nothing, which is what the press wants.

That's what happens for a month, until finally sightings of Otto and Alicent Hightower are reported. Also of Aegon with Rhaenyra and Daemon.

Until you simply decide not to be aware of it anymore, having to continue your life without him, since these are matters that don't concern you, at least not anymore.

So a few weeks later, Floris' birthday arrives, who invites his closest friends to a pub to celebrate in a small group, wanting to have a good time, relax and nothing more, to which you agree to go.

What you definitely didn't expect, was to meet your ex, Aemond Targaryen after all that happened and after almost five months.

general taglist:

@melsunshine @n4forlife @iamavailablesstuff @ttkttt @elliaze @trshngyn @tsujifreya @imsoshygirl @watercolorskyy @kckt88 @zenka69 @yentroucnagol @crispmarshmallow @bellastwd @queenofshinigamis @strangersunghoon @happinessinthebeing @iloveallmyboys

taglist part 3:

@hoziersfairy @bananaminion678 @targaryenmoony @skzenhalove

[kyokutsu-sama]

Headcanons

"Things they do to apologize after an argument" A/n: I had this idea in my head for some time and seeing these three in a situation like this made me think🤔 The three scenarios below are 100% canon, I swear😅

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Kenpachi :

It's not difficult to get this man out of his mind, but it's also not difficult for him to get someone out of their mind with his personality, especially you, if you two get upset about something. He undoubtedly doesn't act with you in the same way as with others, but if for some reason you argue, he may loosen up a little and say more than he should, something he will regret later when give him the silent treatment. Believe me, he will be a shadow, following you even without knowing how to reach you. He wanted so badly to grab you and take you to his room for just an hour just to "apologize himself"but he had already realized that he was the one in the wrong, so he waited until you "softened up". He looks at you every time you pass by him and it was one of those times when you passed by him that he couldn't contain himself and slapped your ass, the habit he had before you two were upset. You gave him a deadly look back but just continued on your way and he gave a small smile. The fact that you even looked at him was a glimmer of hope for him. He loves a good fight and won't give up until he has you. When the things calm down and he feels it's time to apologize and when you walked past him while he was sitting on the couch in the living room, he pulls you onto his lap, catching you helplessly and hugs you with his strong arms. You didn't react for a moment, seeing that he just wants closeness and your warmth. You interpreted that as an apology from him. "Hey big man! I accept your apology if that's what you're trying to know"You said holding his arms around you "Does this also mean that you won't be pacing around ignoring me?" "Actually, I'm also mad at you for being so big and hard to ignore but yeah, I'll talk to you again" You say and he looks at you sideways making you smile mischievously He can't stay away from you. Even with that size, the softer side of his heart is still calling for you.

Jushiro :

I can't imagine him arguing for some reason, he's a sweetheart and would do anything but argue with you, because he knows you might be offended by something he said. Something he would avoid at all costs. When he sees that you are upset with him and that you are avoiding him, he chooses to give you some space even though it is difficult to do so. Shunsui could relate it, he had to convince him and almost begged him on his knees to give you space for a few days. The friend knew he loved you and that's why he acted like that. He couldn't help but at least exchange glances with you when you two passed each other in the corridors of his division or even inside the house. When things start to calm down a little more, he starts greeting you and even tends to bring sweets and hide them under the blanket on your side of the bed accompanied by flowers. "A true romantic man" You think to yourself after encountering all that. You see this as his apology and that very night, you can be sure, when he turns to your side while you're lying next to him and hugs you from behind and brings you closer to him. When you look back with your eyes still barely open but you can see him looking at you with an innocent and soft expression. "Do you accept my apology? Please Y/n, I'm so sorry" He whispers against the skin of your neck "But only because you brought me flowers and sweets this afternoon" You said and he chuckled placing more kisses on your neck "I will bring it whenever you want" Help, I don't write to him anymore, my heart is melting😫

Shunsui :

Another gentleman who doesn't like to argue with his loved one just like his friend above, but the only difference is that Shunsui is shameless and his sarcasm and jokes can ruin everything sometimes. What he doesn't know is that they also leave him sleeping on the couch for a few days. However, he can't help but keep a silly smile on his face when he sees you leaving the bedroom with a blanket and his pillow. He tries to stop you but you just push him away. "Aren't you overreacting? Y/n, come on ! The bed is big for both of us, you don't need to---" "Fuck you !" You stick out your middle finger and show it to him, returning to the bedroom afterwards and slamming the door with a bang "Yeah, Shunsui... it's your fault again for being an idiot" He muttered after seeing the way you left He can't bear to see you walk past him without saying a word to him, his eyes follow you everywhere in the house and even at work. He wanted so much to come closer to you and hug you and apologize and humiliate himself if he had to just to hear your beautiful voice again. This is no longer the silent treatment but torture for him. He, like Jushiro, also leaves flowers everywhere, especially rose petals scattered across the floor. In the living room, in the kitchen, in the bedroom and even in the bathroom he wants you to see the flowers. When you enter the house you can't help but sigh when you see it, you know immediately that the flowers and petals on the floor speak for themselves. "That idiot" You thought. You went to the bedroom and he was there leaning against the headboard with his bottle of drink in his hand and looking like he wasn't quite sober anymore. "I told you to stay on the couch, didn't I?" You said, approaching the bed and crossing your arms, pretending to still be upset "It's too cold to sleep on the living room and especially without my beautiful Y/n-chan who warms my heart"He said, bringing the bottle to his lips You sat next to him and took the bottle from his hands, placing it on the bedside table. "I accept your apology but first you're going to have to clean up the mess of petals you made all over the house, you hear?" You said and he laughed "I will, but now I just want to hug you" Even with the smell of booze you hugged him and he almost cried hugging you. I will have to write a complete scenario like this later...