#in the same way i was with my ocs. nor do i think i used anthros for any of my venty sort of stuff from back in that day

[keymintt]

For the art assumptions: You never had a proper furry phase but so many of your friends did that you learned how to draw them through osmosis

...And I feel like you love the old Bluth style

hehehe i. kind of had a furry phase actually? it's one of those things where in hindsight i definitely drew a lot of anthros in middle school, but it never was something that really stuck with me if that makes sense? dragons were always my number 1 forever and always but i got those "draw furries!" books that were published in the early 2010s among a lot of other drawing books and it was definitely influential to a degree. that was also the time i was learning to draw people better so anthro stuff slotted in pretty neatly between monsters and people. also pokemon gijinkas. i've always had a soft spot for human-monster-animal hybrids dhfgklhgldh

i struggle to say it was much of a phase because even at that time i was never like. super deep in furry culture? i definitely made a fursona when i was 13, but compared to one of my friends at the time i was just on the outskirts of furry culture and i think i've sort of stayed in that area over the years. i think it's rad and fun overall but i don't consider myself one and it's never been something i've been inclined to really participate in outside of commissions or very occasional doodles. that being said i get why so many furries follow me or like my work (and i appreciate you all)

as for the don bluth style i...enjoy it i suppose, but it holds no particular meaning or significance for me. i vaguely remember seeing some of his stuff growing up but didn't have any impact on my artwork or style. that all being said and actually looking at his art now i can see where you could guess that, and really do appreciate how he stylizes animals in a way that retains semi-realistic features while also incorporating a certain cartoonishness to it all

thank you so much for the ask hehe :3c

[oozeandgoo-art]

everyone is sooo in love with vakori on account of le is so cool and smart and deeply pragmatic and is also completely batshit insane

[rispwr]

she's not me - JK - FF - ONE SHOT (M)

pairings : ex!jk x ex!fem!reader

sypnosis : He said he moved on, but why does your toothbrush still stand next to his, even when he has "someone new" already?

genre : ex2l, cheating, smut, fluff if you squint

content/warnings : oral(male recieving), smut, making out, bitch!oc, oc is not very nice, blowjob, missionary, lingerie, cheating! jk and oc.

disclaimer : this fic is completely fictional, i do not know any of the idols personally nor assuming that this is how they act in real life. this fic is for entertainment purposes only

People think they know what it’s like to have everything. They think it must be easy, having the world at your feet, getting anything you want with a single demand. Well, they’re right. It is easy. Easy, effortless, perfect—just how I like it. 

And Jungkook? He was no different.

From the moment he laid eyes on me, he worshipped me. He bought me anything I asked for, made time for me whenever I needed him, and spoiled me in ways even my parents never could. He used to say I was everything he ever wanted, everything he couldn’t resist. But that’s the thing—people always want you until they can’t have all of you. And when Jungkook realized just how much it took to keep me, he broke. He said I was “too much.”

I laughed at him. Too much? He knew who I was from the beginning, knew that I don’t do “less.” I don’t tone it down. I don’t bend for anyone. He thought he could change me, make me softer, more agreeable, more manageable.

Pathetic.

So he left. Said he needed space, that he couldn’t handle my demands anymore. I told him to go, told him I didn’t care. If he couldn’t give me everything, then I didn’t need him. There’s always someone else who can. At least, that’s what I told myself.

Yet here we are—him, in my apartment, like nothing’s changed.

I stand at the foot of my bed, my arms crossed as I watch him pace around the room like he’s trying to convince himself he shouldn’t be here. But he is here. And that says more than any of his excuses ever could.

“You really thought you could move on from me?” I taunt, my voice dripping with amusement. “Please, Jungkook. You know how this works. You always come back.”

He glares at me, his jaw clenched tight. “You think this is funny? You think this is some kind of game, Y/N?”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, come on. Don’t act like you’re the victim here. You knew exactly what you were getting into from the start. You chose this.”

“You haven’t changed at all,” he mutters, shaking his head. “Still the same spoiled, selfish—”

I cut him off with a smirk. “And yet, here you are.” I take a step closer to him, watching the way his body tenses as I invade his space. “If you really hated me so much, you wouldn’t be here. But we both know why you came.”

He doesn’t answer, but I can see it in his eyes. He’s struggling, caught between the version of himself he wants to be and the one he can’t escape. The one that always finds its way back to me. He’s with someone else now, or at least, that’s what he’s told everyone. He’s “moved on.” He’s “happy.” But if that’s true, why did he come here tonight? Why did he show up at my door, knowing exactly what was going to happen?

Because I still own him. No matter who he’s with, no matter how much he tries to deny it, he’ll always come back to me.

I run my fingers along his jawline, feeling the tension beneath my touch. “You’re still mine, Jungkook. You can lie to yourself all you want, but we both know the truth.”

His breath hitches, and for a moment, he falters. I can see the struggle in his eyes, the fight between wanting to leave and wanting me. But it doesn’t last long. It never does.

Without warning, he grabs me, pulling me closer, his hands rough against my skin. He’s angry, frustrated, but I can feel the need beneath it all. This is what he wants. This is why he’s here. And no matter what he says, I know I’m still in control.

I don’t even have time to smirk before he’s on top of me, his lips crushing mine with a desperation that’s almost laughable. He hates me, or at least, he wants to. But that hate only makes him want me more.

I give in, letting him take what he needs, because this is what I wanted from the start. He thinks he’s the one in control, that he’s the one making the decisions, but the truth is, he’s doing exactly what I want him to.

And then, just as I knew it would happen, the sound of his phone interrupts us.

His body goes rigid, and for a second, I think he’s going to stop, going to pull away and regain whatever shred of dignity he thinks he has left. But he doesn’t. He keeps going, ignoring the buzzing in his pocket as it continues, relentless.

I smirk against his lips, pulling back just enough to whisper, “Your girlfriend’s calling.”

He freezes, his breath heavy against my skin. The phone keeps buzzing, the screen lighting up with her name. I glance down at it, the smirk never leaving my face.

“You gonna answer that?”

He doesn’t respond, but I can see the guilt flicker across his expression. It’s almost endearing, how he still tries to pretend like he’s better than this. Like he’s not exactly where he wants to be.

The buzzing stops, and for a moment, there’s silence. But I’m not done yet.

I brush my lips against his ear, my voice soft but biting. “You’ll really always come back, won’t you? No matter how many times you try to run, no matter who you’re with… you’ll always end up here. With me.”

He’s silent, but the look in his eyes tells me everything I need to know. 

The phone buzzes again, and this time, I laugh. A low, mocking sound that cuts through the tension between us.

“You should really answer her, you know. She might start wondering where you are.” I pull away from him completely, walking toward the bed with a casual grace that I know drives him crazy. “Or maybe you’d rather stay here. With me.”

Jungkook doesn’t move at first. He’s still standing there, conflicted, torn between two worlds that are pulling him in opposite directions. I can see it in his eyes—the guilt, the frustration, the longing. He wants to leave. He should leave. But he can’t. He never does.

And that’s the thing about Jungkook. No matter how much he tries to fight it, no matter how many times he tells himself he’s done, he’ll always come back.

Because I’m the one thing he can’t let go of.

I sit down on the bed, crossing one leg over the other as I watch him wrestle with himself. The phone buzzes again, louder this time, as if it’s demanding an answer. But he’s not going to pick it up. He’s not going to leave.

Jungkook’s phone buzzes again. This time, instead of ignoring it, he lets out a frustrated sigh and pulls it out of his pocket. His eyes flicker to the screen, and for a moment, I think he’s going to silence it like before, but then his thumb hovers over the answer button.

Interesting.

He presses it and brings the phone to his ear, his voice changing, softening in a way that makes me roll my eyes.

“Hey, Sewon,” he says, his tone so calm, it’s almost disgusting. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be home tonight… I’m at my mom’s house. She’s sick, so I’m staying over to take care of her.”

I arch a brow, barely able to hold back a laugh. Your mom’s house? Of all the lies he could’ve told, he picked that?

He glances at me while he speaks, and I can’t help but smirk. His lies are so obvious, so transparent. Sewon must be a fool if she buys this.

“I know,” Jungkook continues, running a hand through his hair, trying to sound convincing. “I’ll check in tomorrow, okay? Don’t worry about me.”

He nods as if she can see him. “Yeah, love you too. Get some rest.”

When he finally hangs up, there’s a brief moment of silence between us. The phone in his hand feels like an invisible weight between the two of us, heavy with the guilt and deceit that’s been left hanging in the air.

And then, just like that, he tosses the phone onto the dresser and turns back to me. His eyes darken, the softness from his voice with Sewon gone in an instant, replaced by the hunger that’s always been there. The one he can never hide when he’s with me.

I laugh quietly, shaking my head as I lean back against the pillows, propping myself up with my elbows. “Your mom’s house?” I mock, biting my lip to keep from outright laughing. “That’s the best you could come up with?”

Jungkook doesn’t respond. He doesn’t need to. The look in his eyes says everything.

He crosses the room in two quick strides, grabbing me with a possessive force that sends a thrill through my body. He pulls me to him, and before I can say another word, his lips crash against mine.

There’s nothing soft or gentle about the way he kisses me this time. It’s desperate, raw, and full of frustration—everything that’s been simmering between us since the moment he walked through the door.

The kiss deepens, and I feel the heat radiating between us. Jungkook’s hands grip my waist, his fingers digging into my skin, igniting every nerve in my body. I can taste the urgency in his kiss—the need, the desire, the pent-up frustration from the distance we’ve kept between us.

He pulls away just long enough to look me in the eye, and I can see the battle raging inside him. “i shouldn't be here” he says, his voice a low growl. But there’s no conviction behind his words. I can see the truth lurking just beneath the surface.

“you shouldn't..” I reply, my tone dripping with confidence as I pull him closer. “but aren't tired of her?”

With a sudden burst of determination, Jungkook’s hands slide down to the hem of my dress. In one swift motion, he tears it away, the fabric ripping apart like it’s made of paper. The cool air hits my skin, sending chills down my spine, but the thrill of being exposed to him makes me gasp.

My lingerie, black lace and delicate, is now the only thing standing between us. I can see the way his eyes darken, the way his breath hitches as he takes in the sight of me. I can feel his desire, raw and intense, radiating from him.

“God, Y/N,” he breathes, his voice thick with lust. “You drive me insane.”

And just like that, I know this is what he wants—what we both want. The boundaries of our past and present melt away in the heat of the moment, and all that matters is the connection between us, the electric tension that fills the room.

I can’t help but smirk as I lean back, teasingly inviting him to explore what’s beneath my lingerie. “Then stop talking,” I whisper, “and show me just how insane I make you.”

"take this off, please" i whined "desperate that much? all for cock?" he hissed under his breath chuckling "your cock" murmured breathly. 

"unbuckle it then. show me how much you're a slut for this cock" he demanded me. ofcourse our sex was always great, no matter what happens he'll always come back to me. i got up on my knees and start unbuckling his belt while keeping eye contact.]

i palm his obviously hard bulge teasing him. "Feel this? It's just for you." he mutters "ofcourse it is" i give him a look "who else is it supposed to be for?" i laugh hysterically, enjoying every moment i'm in control. 

I slip his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion, exposing him fully. His breath hitches as I continue palming him, watching his reactions with satisfaction. His head tilts back slightly, his jaw clenched in restraint, but I can see how much control I have over him in this moment.

"That’s right,” I purr, my voice low. “No one else can make you feel like this.”

Jungkook lets out a low groan, his hands gripping my waist, pulling me closer, but I keep the pace slow, teasing him. His frustration is palpable, but that only spurs me on. I love seeing him like this, powerless beneath my touch despite how dominant he tries to be.

"You're enjoying this way too much," he mutters through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowing at me.

I laugh softly, leaning in just enough to whisper in his ear. "And you're going to let me, aren’t you?"

For a moment, there’s only the sound of our breathing, the heat between us overwhelming. His hand moves to the strap of my lingerie, tugging at it roughly. “Take it off,” he demands, his voice a growl, filled with need.

I look up at him, my eyes glinting with defiance. “Make me,” I challenge, knowing full well what it’ll do to him.

The tension between us crackles

His eyes flash with a mix of frustration and desire, and I can feel the heat radiating off his body as he grapples with the control he’s trying to maintain. “You think you can play games with me?” he challenges, but there’s a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, betraying his eagerness.

With a swift motion, Jungkook grips the strap of my lingerie and pulls it down, exposing my skin to him. The cool air sends a shiver through me, and I let out a soft gasp. His gaze darkens, drinking in the sight before him, and I can’t help but feel empowered by his reaction.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, a hint of pride lacing his voice as he watches me, eyes burning with hunger. “Now, let’s see how much you really want this.”

I bite my lip, reveling in the control I have. I shift my weight back on my knees, arching my back just a little, offering him a glimpse of everything he craves. “You want me to beg for it?” I tease, my tone laced with playful challenge.

He chuckles darkly, shaking his head as if to say he’s not going to give in that easily. “I want you to show me, Y/N. Show me how desperate you are.”

With a sly smile, I lean forward, keeping my gaze locked on his as I lower my mouth to his hardness. I let my breath ghost over him, the teasing anticipation making his muscles tense even more.

“Feel this?” I ask, my voice sultry as I glance up at him. “she can never ever make you feel this way”

“uhuh- y-yeah” he retorts, his voice strained.

I laugh softly, enjoying the way my teasing drives him wild. The power shifts back and forth between us, but for now, I hold the reins.

I wrap my hand around him, giving him a few teasing strokes. His eyes widen, and a groan escapes his lips, making my heart race. The rush of power I feel is intoxicating, and I lean in closer, taking him in my mouth slowly, savoring the moment as I begin to work him with my tongue.

“God, Y/N,” he gasps, his hand threading through my hair, encouraging me to take him deeper. I can feel him fighting to maintain control, but the way he pulls me in tells me he’s losing the battle.

I look up at him, watching the way his face twists in pleasure. “You love this,” I whisper, pulling back just enough to let my words hang in the air between us.

“Don’t stop,” he growls, the command wrapped in desperation. “You know I can’t resist you.”

I smile, knowing I’ve pushed him just where I want him. The thrill of our back-and-forth dance adds another layer of heat to the moment, and I relish in the chaos we’ve created.

With renewed determination, I take him deeper again, swirling my tongue around him while my hands continue to work his length. The sounds he makes spur me on, igniting the fire within me, and I can feel my own body responding to the thrill of the moment.

“God, Y/N, i-i'm cumming” he admits, breathless and raw, his eyes wild with need.

I pull away slightly, my lips glistening. “Then don’t. Let go,” I encourage, my voice low and sultry. “I want to see just how far you’ll go for me.”

His breath catches at my words, and I can see the battle within him intensifying. Jungkook's eyes darken with a mix of desire and urgency, the tension crackling between us as I watch him teeter on the edge of control.

“You’re insane,” he mutters, his voice rough. “Do you know that?”

“Maybe,” I tease, a playful smirk on my lips. “But you love it.”

Before I can say anything else, he grips my hair tightly, pulling me back up to meet his gaze. The sudden shift catches me off guard, but there’s a wild glint in his eyes that sends a thrill down my spine.

“I want you, Y/N,” he growls, and it’s a statement, not a request. “Now.”

With that, he shoves me back onto the bed, his hands exploring my body with urgency. The way he caresses me is both rough and tender, his touch igniting every nerve ending as he hungrily takes in the sight of me beneath him. I feel alive, electric under his gaze.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and laced with a possessive edge. “So fucking perfect.”

As he leans down to kiss me again, his lips find mine with a fierce hunger. I feel myself melting into him, our bodies pressing together, a collision of heat and desire. It’s intoxicating, and I can’t help but lose myself in the moment, all thoughts of Sewon and the outside world slipping away.

“Please, Jungkook,” I whimper, the need pooling within me, begging for release. “I need you.”

He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching mine, as if gauging my sincerity. “You really want this?” he asks, a hint of disbelief coloring his tone. “After everything?”

I nod, desperation spilling over. “You know I do. You always come back to me, Jungkook. We can’t fight this.”

He grits his teeth, his grip on me tightening. “You’re right. I can’t fight it.”

And just like that, he reclaims his dominance, his lips crashing against mine once more, the kiss deepening as he settles himself between my legs. I feel the heat radiating from him, the raw energy making my heart race faster.

“Then let’s stop pretending,” he murmurs against my lips, his breath mingling with mine. “Let’s give in to what we both want.”

With a swift motion, he pulls my lingerie down, leaving me completely exposed to him. The thrill of vulnerability sends shivers through my body, the anticipation of what’s to come making me dizzy with excitement.

“Jungkook,” I gasp, my heart racing as he moves closer, his warmth enveloping me entirely.

He leans in, kissing down my body, his lips trailing fire across my skin. Each touch ignites a desperate longing within me, pushing me closer to the edge. “You deserve this, Y/N,” he whispers, his voice low and raspy. “You deserve everything.”

His hands explore every inch of me, igniting sensations I’ve only ever dreamed of. The pleasure builds, a wave of heat that makes me writhe beneath him, and I can feel myself teetering on the brink, the tension coiling tighter and tighter.

“Jungkook, please,” I plead, my voice trembling with need. “jungkook..please- fuck!! i'm cumming- im cumming”

He looks up at me, his expression a mix of mischief and determination. “go” he commands, his voice deep and commanding, sending another wave of desire coursing through me.

With one swift motion, he positions himself at my entrance, and I can feel the heat radiating from him, the promise of everything I crave.

“wanna cum again?” he asks, searching my eyes for any hesitation.

I nod, my heart pounding. “yes! fuck- yes please!!”

As Jungkook fills me, a gasp escapes my lips, a mix of pleasure and relief washing over me. Every inch of him feels like home, like the part of me I didn’t know I was missing until this very moment. It’s intoxicating, the way he moves, his body melding with mine as if we were always meant to be this way.

He begins to move, slow at first, savoring the moment. Each thrust sends ripples of pleasure coursing through me, and I can feel the tension in my body tightening. My nails dig into his back as I pull him closer, urging him to go deeper, to give me more of what I crave.

“Y/N,” he breathes, his voice strained and filled with desire. “fuck. you're so tight”

I can’t help but smile, the rush of excitement and control coursing through me as he loses himself in the moment. “You like this, huh?” I tease breathlessly, my hips meeting his with every thrust. “You like coming back to me, even after everything.”

He groans, the sound vibrating through his chest and into mine, driving me wild. “I can’t help it. You drive me crazy.”

With each movement, the rhythm between us builds, and I can feel the way his body responds to mine, the way he lets go of everything else that exists outside this room. 

“More,” I whisper, my voice barely above a breath. “I want more, Jungkook. Don’t hold back. fill me up”

His gaze sharpens, and there’s a flicker of something dark in his eyes. “You asked for it,” he warns, but there’s no hesitation as he picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming deeper and more urgent.

The world around us fades away, and it’s just the two of us—lost in our own little universe. I feel every sensation magnified, the pleasure building with each movement, spiraling higher and higher until I feel like I might burst.

“Y/N,” he gasps, his voice thick with desire. “You’re so fucking perfect. I can’t get enough of you.”

I can feel my walls tightening around him, the pressure building, and I know I’m close. “Jungkook,” I breathe, my voice trembling with need. “I’m going to—”

“Let go,” he urges, his breath hot against my ear. “show me who's making you cum like this.”

His words push me over the edge, and with a cry, I let the pleasure take over. It washes over me in waves, pulling me under until I can hardly breathe, and I can feel him following me, the way his body tenses, the deep groan that escapes his lips echoing in my ears.

“Y/N!” he cries out, and the sound sends another rush of pleasure through me as we both ride the waves of ecstasy together. The connection between us is electric, and I can’t remember ever feeling so alive.

As we both come down from the high, Jungkook collapses beside me, panting heavily, his chest rising and falling with every breath. I turn to him, a smile spreading across my face, knowing that despite everything, we always find our way back to each other.

“See?” I tease, nudging him playfully. “I told you you’d come back.”

He chuckles, looking over at me with that familiar warmth in his eyes. “You make it impossible not to.”

And just like that, the playful banter flows between us, the tension easing as we bask in the afterglow of what we just shared.

But then, the moment is interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing, cutting through the air. Jungkook’s expression shifts, and I can see the annoyance etched on his face as he glances at his phone.

“It’s Sewon,” he says, and I can’t help but roll my eyes at the interruption.

“Shouldn’t you pick it up?” I challenge, raising an eyebrow, trying to gauge his reaction.

He hesitates, his thumb hovering over the screen. “I don’t want to,” he admits, his voice low.

“Then don’t,” I reply, my heart racing at the thought of him choosing me over her, even if just for a moment.

But Jungkook sighs, and I can see the conflict in his eyes. “I have to,” he says reluctantly. “She’ll worry if I don’t.”

“Why should you care?” I shoot back, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “You’re here with me, not her.”

“I know,” he replies, running a hand through his hair. “But I don’t want to deal with her drama right now.”

“Then don’t,” I urge, my tone softening as I reach out to touch his arm. “Just be here. Be with me.”

He looks torn, glancing back at his phone before finally silencing it. “You’re right,” he says, his gaze locking onto mine. “I’ll deal with her later.”

I smile, feeling a surge of satisfaction. “Good. Now come here.”

He chuckles, leaning in to kiss me softly. “You always know how to get what you want, don’t you?”

“Of course,” I reply, smirking. “It’s what I do best.”

taglists : @crazyovayou @sinfullygay @minghaosimp @pitchblack0309

[boiohboii]

The Royal Way 《Pt.2》

(Leclerc!reader x Prince of Monaco!oc)

After his older sister marries into the Monaco Royal family, Charles knew he would be treated differently, to his surprise (and his sister's disappointment) his F1 team, ferarri, treated him the same way.... and that did not sit well with the new princess of Monaco

or

in which YN Leclerc uses her new familial connections to fuck up ferarri just like how they fucked up her baby brother's hopes and dreams.

N.B: so, this was supposed to be longer and the last part, but it's currently 3 AM and I have classes at 8 AM thus me splitting this little fic into a trilogy. Hopefully, I will have time tomorrow to post the third and final part! Thank you for reading and let me know what you think!! WARNINGS: NOT REALISTIC AT ALL!! if you are looking for a realistic revenge sort of plot, it is not here, I tried as best as I can to search up what the whole electronic system does and it's relation to the DRS, BUT I AM BY NO MEANS AN EXPERT NOR HAVE ENOUGH KNOWLEDGE, SO EXCUSE THE POOR RESEARCH. The car designs are from Pinterest... Some swear words (fuck, bitch, etc...) Let me know if I missed anything else please!

Faceclaims:

yn leclerc --> anya taylor joy

Prince Thierry --> louis partridge

Masterlist // part 1

Liked by ferrariisdone, charlesthefrench, leclercfam and 716,920 others

F1_updates_live: Prince Thierry and Princess YN Leclerc heading into the Ferrari motor home in LA. Neither of the Royals look ecstatic to be in this position and it's no doubt to do with the statement released by Ferrari's Formula one media team, where they had essentially blamed the newly wedded Princess, YN Leclerc and their own driver, Charles Leclerc, for his DNF in the previous GP.

username: let them cook

username: the amount of bodyguards they have is insane

username: they do not look happy

username: yeah, no shit sherlock, ferrari basically said that it was yn's fault that Charles is distracted

username: ferrari blaming everyone but themselves

LEAKED AUDIO FROM LAS VEGAS GP, FERRARI'S MOTORHOME: tensions rise in the Ferrari garage as the young royals of Monaco, Prince Thierry and Princess YN Leclerc, threaten Fred Vasseur of taking him to court after buying out the rest of Charles' contract with Ferrari.

(Princess YN Leclerc,Prince Thierry, Fred Vasseur)

"It has been proven time and time again that the team is so incompetent! Why won't you do any changes?"

"Do you think that it's easy? These are people's livelihoods we are talking about"

"You do realise you are talking to a princess, right? She is well aware of how to run a business and a team, unlike you."

"I am just saying that I can't just fire people because Charles can't manage the car!"

"CAN'T MANAGE THE CAR? Are you out of your fucking mind mr. Vasseur? There is evidence, very strong evidence for your information, that the problem was from the electronic system. Do you have any idea how fucked up your engineers and strategists have to be to send out a car with failed electronic system?"

"Correct me if I am wrong my darling, but don't the electronic system control the DRS?"

"Mmhhmmm"

"And if the DRS opens in a corner it might result in a crash, am I correct mr. Vasseur?"

"The DRS was fine, there was-"

"My husband is asking a yes or no question Fred."

"Yes."

"So basically, Ferrari's Formula one team had, intentionally and with their knowledge, put a member of the monegasque royal family in direct danger."

"But Charles isn't a member of the royal family! He is only YN's half brother!"

"PRINCESS YN MR VASSEUR! YOU WILL DO WELL TO REMEMBER THAT!"

"Charles is my brother, and you dare put him in harm's way. I am princess YN Leclerc of Monaco, I can and I will hold you accountable as the principal of this team."

"You can't do anything! Carlos had the same car-"

"Carlos did not have the same car and you know it!"

"We already know Fred, we have had professional inspections done on both cars, it's quite deceiving really, telling a driver that he's the priority and still disappointing him every single time."

🔊 a thud is heard 🔊

"This is the amount of money to buy Charles out of Ferrari, but don't spend it Fred, we will be getting it back in court."

"YN WHAT WE-"

"PRINCESS YN FRED! *sigh* it seems like no matter what you are still convinced that you and your workers did no wrong, we will see about that."

"There is only one race left, there will be no team to take in Charles now!"

"Oh, we are not looking for a team to take him in, we made a team for him."

{Taglist: @phillydilly @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @omgsuperstarg @formulas-bitch @brakingboundaries @kyuupidwrites}

[artethyst]

~ Shadows Bathed In Moonlight ~ Pt.1

Azriel x Youngest Archeron Sister! Reader/OC

“Azriel we have been over this,” Rhysand brought a hand to his face, slim digits ghosting across his jaw in deep thought. “It is out of my hands- you are forbidden from telling her. Do you understand?”

“Even you cannot forbid me from such a thing,” he let out a dark chuckle is disbelief. “Tell me, High Lord, why is it that two of my brothers have found their mate- free to accept the bond, and it is I left alone- in the dark? As usual.” The Shadowsinger’s voice dripped with venom, an uncharacteristic snarl on his face as his primal instincts took over, having no outlet for such scathing carnal desires- having been barred from even spending time with his Mate.

“Azriel, you know it is not the same.”

“How is it not the same?”

“She is still coming to terms with what happened to her- her powers are still out of control-”

“Then let me help her!”

“That is Cassian’s job.”

The two men became silent as a soft rap on the door signified them of a presence- her presence, Azriel noted, her soothing scent of fresh lillies and the first rain of spring overwhelming him as her angelically golden head poked through the door nervously.

He felt his lips tug at the corner at the sight of her, Rhysand giving him a warning look at the almost unnoticeable gesture.

Azriel. The familiar voice was strained. Leave us.

“I…I apologise for interrupting,” came her gentle voice, twinkling blue eyes apologetic as Azriel was forced to tear his own away, the golden thread that only he could see taunting him in glittering ocean of her iris.

“You have nothing to apologise for,” came the Shadowsinger’s smooth reply, bowing in such a way Rhysand knew his infamous patience had been worn thin. “High Lord.”

~

Azriel had not ventured far, his shadows, uncharacteristically disobedient, willing him to stay close enough to her- his Mate in an onyx haze of longing he was beginning to suffocate under.

He watched Rhysand leave first, jaw ticking as the male rounded the corner, anticipating his sister-in-law to follow in tow, her gossamer gown and its iridescent scintillation billowing around her like a halo.

He heard her gasp as one of them curled itself around her pointed ear, cursing beneath his breath, only to hear her giggle- a liberating sound that might have exalted him from the depths of his own hell, an angelic noise that could have him repenting on his knees just to hear a single note of.

“Azzie…” she smiled up at him, as he remained still- as though he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t- he had. “Your shadows are loose again!”

Only for you- ever for you, he wanted to say, words turning to ash quicker than the breath was stolen from his lungs at the sight of her.

He wished he could ask Feyre to immortalise the moment as she stood- tendrils of him dancing across her unblemished skin, their dark illimitability neither scaring nor disgusting her as her rosy cheeks widened, their vaporous talons ardently skimming over her guiltlessness.

“S-Sorry,” was all that came out, low and stuttered, his bronzed countenance flushing at his own weakness- thanking the mother Cassian was not around to tease him for it.

“Do you think they like me?” She teased, unaware of the true weight of her words, “they never seem to latch on to anyone else…” She trailed off as he called them back, unable to stomach the sight of her- so close and yet so far from him, in such a cruel display of fate.

“It is hard for anything not to.” He mused gently, not missing the way her rosebud lips parted, the saccharine scent of her own innate longing drifting up to him in taunting waves of arousal.

“Azriel-” She had not used his name- called him that for such a long time, her fair face falling as he stormed away, wondering what she had done- had said for him to treat her so callously.

Her hand was splayed out in a fruitless attempt to stop him from abandoning her and prevent him from vanishing entirely- a frustrating habit he adopted had as of recent, baring its ugly, wilted head whenever their conversations has begun to blossom beyond anything other than formality.

In the few years she had known him he had never acted in such a way, making her slowly retreat back into the self-loathing girl he had once culled from her self inflicted cage. His own heart lurched as he felt her through the unclaimed bond- suffering, again, because of him.

He had been the one to make her feel like she was home- that he might have even been it. Yet the retreating coils of his own darkness reminded her that he could never love her.

That she would never be enough for a man such as he.

And as her soul cried for him in a manner she had yet to recognise, his own howled back in a melancholic crescendo as he cursed the Mother for always deafening his heart’s symphony.

[alphabetboyluvr]

landslides - 001 | goldrush - jjk

part title credit: goldrush - taylor swift

everybody wonders what it would be like to love you... i can't dare to dream about you anymore... it never will be...

pairing: officeworker!jungkook x female reader (coworkers)

premise: jungkook asks you to dog sit over chuseok. he doesn't ask you to steal the empty spaces in his head, the dreams he's yet to have, nor the idea of you always just being 'you' to him - and yet, like a thief in the night (with his own damn dog as your accomplice), you do.

warnings: fluff more than angst, but it's not clean cut - there's also a touch of smut. office worker jk, fuck boy (but kind!) jk, mentions of his workplace escapades, oc is dating mingyu (yay), oc sorta fancies jk (boo), solo masturbation (m), vivid thoughts of shagging (jk is a perv! wow! unlike me to write him as randy bastard!), lots of facetime calls, oc and jk are fundamentally flawed as a pairing, genuine friendship, daddy kink? ig? but like kinda sweet?, jungkook has a complex brain house and you've been banished to his annexe!! he also has a thing for claw clipped hair lol

wordcount: 6.8K

note from holly: so... i dogsat (? idk if thats a word) for my friend last chuseok and this was the result hahahaha. my friends dog (boba <3) is so tiny and small!! but i've always been a big dog girlie so bam was fun to write. i really love this one and have recently found all of my old notes from around that time detailing the rest of the couples lives, so pt. 2 is in progress.

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

Bam notices the storm roll in before you do. His ears twitch, head lifting from its rested perch on his paws.

“What’s up, baby? Hey?” You coo, his sudden shift obviously prompted by something. His snout begins to twitch, too, and his bottom lip shakes as a small growl vibrates from his throat. His eyes are on the window, stalking the clouds as they roll past. “Hey.”

You sit up a little straighter to lean forward and scratch behind his ear. He leans into it, but doesn’t take his eyes away from the sky.

“You see the rain, huh?” You hum, looking between the pup and the window ahead. You can’t place it yet - it’s too far in the distance - but you find yourself coming to sit beside him. He doesn’t lean up against you like he usually does. Just continues to lightly growl.

There’s no threat behind his noises, no malice - he’s just shouting back at the thunder you can’t hear. When you see a bolt of lightning flash in the distance just beyond the city skyline, you know that it won’t be long until Jungkook’s apartment block is drenched in the weather.

It’s just gone midnight when he calls. His face is a little puffy, smile a little lopsided.

“Hey Bammie,” he coos into the camera. You’ve got it angled down to where the pup is resting his head on your knee, peacefully unwinding after his long walk. Bam doesn’t stir at Jungkook’s voice, so he tries again. “Bammie?”

The way he elongates his puppy’s name is sweet - a tone of voice reserved only for his most trusted companion. He sure as hell has never spoken to you like that.

“Sorry, bud,” you say as you lift the camera up to your face. He’s pouting. “I don’t think the vibrations sound the same through the phone.”

“I miss him,” he says not even caring to acknowledge your thought process. “Is he okay? Was he good on his walk?”

“He’s all good,” you smile. “Best boy in the world. None of the other dogs you mentioned were down at the park, so it was just us two.”

He nods into the camera and purses his lips. “They might all be away. Visiting family.” He rolls over in his bed and lets out a yawn. “How’s the apartment? Got everything you need?”

You nod back. “All good. Might have eaten my way through your cheese stash already. I’m gonna shower then head to bed in a minute.”

“Make sure you leave the bathroom door open a little,” he says. “He’ll whine if not.”

“Will do.”

“Thank you,” he says. “I really appreciate you doing this. He hasn’t been too much work, has he?”

“He’s good as gold,” you say as you switch to the back camera. The view is serene, and Jungkook’s lips instantly settle into a smile. Bam is up on the sofa with you, snuggled against your lap. The skyline twinkles through his window, the reflection of his mood lamp obscuring some of it - but he’s quietly pleased that you’re using it. It’s how he normally winds down, too. Main lights off, galaxy on his ceiling. Must make Bam feel a little more at ease. You go to scratch behind his ear, and he huffs a little, all content and cosy. “Thanks for asking. He’s never too much work. You trained him well.”

“Hmm,” Jungkook hums. “Could have trained you a little better, though.”

He laughs when you switch the camera back to your face, mouth open, brows knitted together. “Me?!”

“Yes, you,” he grins now but tries to hide it; to restore the stoicism to his face. It doesn’t work. “What did I tell you about the sofas?”

You purse your lips together as if you’re not smiling. He’s got you there, admittedly.

“Look, he’s just so cute!” Despite the fact you’ve turned the camera back onto Bam, Jungkook can tell you’re pouting. “How could I say no?!”

“Easily!” Jungkook laughs. “That’s how he became so well trained! I leave for one night and-”

“Shuuuush,” you laugh, and when the camera switches back to you, Jungkook can’t help but let his smile persist. You look tired, and so does he, but there’s something about the call that has made you forget all about the fact you were planning on going to bed soon. “My swamp now. My rules.”

“My swamp,” he protests, but the look on his face is so saccharine that you can’t take him seriously. He thinks the same could be said for you. “Anyways, it’s late. Go get your shower. If you need more towels, there are some in the cupboard by the boiler. Don’t forget to turn the vent on - it’s the switch next to the light.”

“Alright, will do,” you nod and then yawn. Bam pricks his head up. “Hey baby,” you speak to him. “Did I wake you?”

“Show me him.”

You switch the camera around to where you’re scratching at Bam’s ear. He leans his head into the scratch, thoroughly enjoying it, your long nails far scratchier than Jungkook’s. It’s not the same - Jungkook is far stronger, so is a little rougher which suits Bam just fine. Still, he likes your scratches better than no scratches at all.

Jungkook whines. “I miss him.”

“He misses you, too. Want me to call in the morning?”

Jungkook shakes his head. “We’re up early tomorrow, heading over to Haedong Yonggungsa in the morning. Probably be up before you. Send me pictures though.”

“Will do. Night, buddy.”

“Night gremlin,” he smiles, and then begins to coo. “Night Bammie. Daddy misses you.”

He wishes you wouldn’t look at him in the way that you do when he says that; lips turned upwards at the very corners, dimples pressing into your cheeks, eyes bright.

“Shut up,” he says, but you’re already laughing.

“Daddy.”

“I am his dad!”

“Daddy.”

“Oh my god, fuck off,” he laughs. “Have nightmares, gremlin.”

“Sweet dreams, Daddy.”

“Fuck off!”

You hang up before he can protest your taunts any more, though he does text you one final ‘fuck off,’ and a reminder that you can bolt his front door if it will make you feel safer.

His apartment is in a high-rise, and his neighbourhood is far nicer than yours. You do the bolt up regardless, and think that it’s sweet that he considered your comfort enough to remind you about it.

Bam sits by the sliding door of the bathroom, the tips of his paws just teetering over the line of the door frame. He rests his head on his legs, snout angled towards the hallway. It still makes you feel a little weird. You don’t really want a dog watching you shower, even if he is a dog and has no real understanding of what’s happening - so you turn your back to him and just reassure yourself that Jungkook showers with the door open wide.

It’s a funny thing, to think about your co-worker’s showering habits. Not one that you’ve ever thought to indulge in before - but Jungkook would go ballistic if he heard you refer to him as your ‘co-worker.’ You’re friends. Pretty good ones, at that.

You’re level players at your company; earn the same wage, hold the same rank. There’s not really any competition between the pair of you - you work in different departments - but are often paired together when the two sections merge for joint projects. You make for a good team.

Over the years, you and Jungkook have also learned that you’re a highly capable team when it comes to playing beer pong against your colleagues on Friday nights, and at the mixed-doubles tennis tournament that your company insists on you participating in every year. It’s either that or be on the Christmas Party Planning committee, and you know which you’d rather do.

Thinking about tinsel in August? No, thank you.

There is however one crucial flaw to your partnerships: how you live your lives. How you manage your money.

See, Jungkook is frugal. He makes big investments - his apartment, his cars, games consoles, Bam. Doesn’t spunk his cash away on the small shit. His apartment is in the heart of the city, only a few floors from the very top. He gets a birds-eye view of the world around him. You don’t even want to imagine how much his deposit cost.

Probably more than you have in your savings. You do spunk your cash away - on the small shit, no less. Clothes, cafes, that sort of stuff. Nothing that holds permanence. It frustrates Jungkook to no end. He thinks you could have a better life if you just used your money wisely - but you’re happy in your slightly cramped apartment, happy when the serotonin of a shopping spree boosts your mood, happy when you’re laughing with your friends over coffee and cake.

You wouldn’t be happy if you felt restricted. You think that Jungkook is.

He disagrees. He has enough in the bank to buy whatever he wants. He has financial freedom.

But there’s a difference. You’re both free in your own ways.

It’s for that reason you’d never work as a couple. Would infuriate one another far too much. Everyone who is close to you both knows this; how badly suited you would be. They’ll joke about all of the women in the office trying to get their mitts on Jungkook - even the married ones - but not you.

It’s funny because they’re right. Everybody wants him.

He collects stars from their eyes and accumulates them in his own. The girls blush and giggle about how he looks at them with galaxies, but they don’t realise what a thief he is. Don’t realise he’s stolen their shine, and incorporated it into his own. A spotlight follows him, and you enjoy watching the show unfold with an amused grin whenever a new secretary catches his gaze for the first time.

It’s not intentional. You don’t think Jungkook realises he does it. In fact, he hadn’t realised that it was such a pattern of behaviour until the midnight squalor of a dive bar had you talking about office conquests, and how the photocopier room had seen his bare ass more than it had seen toner changes.

“Shouldn’t shit where you eat, Jeon,” you’d grinned.

“Firstly, that’s a horrible phrase - and secondly, it takes two to tango. They’re just as much to blame as I am.”

But they’re not. He’s the only repeat offender.

“And anyways,” he had deflected, sinking down the final dregs of his beer. “Don’t act like you’re some kind of saint. Everyone’s fucked a colleague at least once.”

You’d just raised an eyebrow.

“You’re telling me you haven’t?”

“Like I said - shouldn’t shit where you eat, Jeon.”

Now, if he’d have said housemate, you would have folded. Downed your drink. Ordered a repeat round.

Something about a shared space - domestication - really gets you. It’s joint laundry loads, shared dinners, movie nights; grocery shopping, D.I.Y. furniture, arguments about who gets the bigger room. More often than not, it never matters, ‘cause you just end up staying in theirs.

You live alone now. After the third time, you knew better than to let yourself fall into the trap once more.

He learns about your affliction a few months later, and goes on tease you relentlessly.

In fact, he mentions it when he propositions you a few weeks before Chuseok. You had both spent the last couple of holiday periods overworked, slogging through the festivities. For the first time since either of you can remember, your workload has eased up.

You’ve already told him you’re planning on doing sweet, sweet fuck all. You’ve told your family you will be working, because you just want to finally breathe for a while; stay in with a tub of ice cream and your favourite films. Speak to no one. Do nothing.

“I’ve got a favour to ask you,” he had said as he approached your desk before the end of the day. It was a Friday, but you weren’t heading for after-work drinks with the usual suspects like you typically did. You had a date, instead. A third one with the same guy - Mingyu - which felt like a miracle. Even Jungkook was a little shocked that the poor guy wasn’t sick of you.

“Go on,” you had mused as you checked over your to-do list for the following week.

“You gotta promise me something first.”

“Promise you what?”

“That you won’t fall in love with me.”

You’d swatted him away the ruler on your desk, and told him to get his head out of his ass. “Been able to resist your charms this long, Jeon. Give me some credit.”

“It’s only ‘cause you know I’d reject you, you little gremlin.”

“I thought you wanted a favour? Funny way of going about it.”

“Sorry, sorry. You’re right,” he had conceded with an apologetic smile. “Forgive me.”

“What do you want?”

“How would you feel about potentially staying at mine over Chuseok to look after Bam? My parents want us to head down to Busan for the weekend and see relatives seeing as I’m finally free and know it’s a big ask but I-”

“Oh my God, yes?!” You had smiled so wide Jungkook thought you might fracture your jaw.

You love Bam.

In fact, he might just be your favourite thing about Jungkook.

Occasionally you walk him with Jungkook on the weekends, when you’re both hungover and need to get out of a slump. You’ve grown up with pets, but moving to the city in your early twenties to pursue your career meant apartment living.

You’re a rural girl deep down, and would never want to keep a pet in a high rise.

Jungkook manages it, but he goes home at lunchtime to walk Bam during the winter. In the summer, when it’s too hot, he goes home at lunch regardless, to lounge around with Bam under the air con.

Sometimes, you go with him. Bam is always pleased to see you.

Jungkook lied and said he asked around because he didn’t want to inconvenience you.

Truth is, he wouldn’t have trusted anyone else with his baby. He’d never spent a night away from Bam. Hated the idea. Despised it, in fact. He would have just taken Bam with him to Busan, but didn’t think it would be fair to force him on the journey from Seoul.

Over in Busan, when Jungkook hangs up, the conversation isn’t over. It continues in his head.

“Hey, wait…”

“Mhhm?”

“You just… look nice tonight, that’s all.”

He thinks you’d blush. Would tell him to lay off the soju. Accuse him of getting too drunk for a family get-together. He’d let you. Would take the beating of your false accusations, because it would be far easier than admitting he’s not had a single drop.

He thinks of the hug he’ll give Bam when he gets home; how wild his tail will waggle, how he’ll jump all over the place, and how you’ll be giggling. In his mind, you’ll be smiling just as wide as he is.

You’d stay for dinner. Jungkook would order from your favourite place to say thank you. Bam would snuggle up to Jungkook - on the sofa - and you’d be on the other side, stroking his back. He’d be happy. Bam, not Jungkook. But also Jungkook. Hopefully you, too.

When the time would approach for you to go home, you’d offer to help. Rinse out the containers. Hair up in a claw clip, t-shirt off your shoulder like it so often is.

Jungkook doesn’t notice, but his hands begin to trail down his body as he thinks of you. His phone is still on his chest, rising and falling with every beat of his heart. The tips of his fingers stroke against his skin.

He thinks of you laughing with him about something inconsequential. You’d flick water in his direction when he’d make some joke at your expense. It’d all be in good humour.

But then he’d flick some back at you, and water war would break out. Bam would run excitedly between the pair of you, Jungkook chasing you around the kitchen island with wet hands - and you’d do the exact same back. You’d flick water over the counter, tap still running and he’d call you a gremlin.

There’s a smile on his lips as he thinks of his. His hands roam further south. He’s ticking at his abdomen. It’s nice. Feels calm. He likes to engage his senses when he thinks of scenarios like these. Makes it feel more real.

But then he’s thinking of your shirt and the fact it’s white.

And then he’s imagining catching up with you, holding you captive as he angles the tap towards your face. You’ll be shrieking and scrambling to get away, Bam by your feet, Jungkook laughing.

He’d relent, but only enough for you to twist to face him.

Jungkook’s fingers are by his thighs. Stroking. Caressing. He’s avoiding his cock. Knows it’s firm. His index finger spreads to his balls. Teases.

And then he thinks of your body pressed against his torso, your ass to the counter.

You’d both be soaked.

He’d look at your lips. Look in your eyes. Feel your chest against his. He’d swallow hard.

It’s at this point he forgets about Bam in the scenario. It’s just you and him.

His palm rests over the length of his cock. Presses down. His hips roll.

He’d tell you that you’ve made a mess. You’d tell him to clean it up. His heart would be racing. So would yours.

And it’s funny, because his heart actually is. It’s beating so fucking hard in his childhood bedroom, that he thinks his parents must be able to hear it through the walls.

He’s in a far-too-firm single bed, but in his head, he’s with you in his kitchen.

He begins to grip his cock, long fingers wrapping around his shaft. He pulls up. Pushes back down. Says your name. Whines.

He doesn’t even really realise he’s doing it.

Just thinks about you.

Thinks about the way it would feel to sink his lips into yours; the first bite of a forbidden fruit. Thinks about that quick tongue of yours, and if it would be just as quick to find its way into his mouth. Thinks about your manicured nails that Bam loves so much, and how they’d scratch against his scalp instead. Thinks about the way his hips would rock against you, kind of like they are now; pulsing beneath his duvet.

His mind jumps. Skips the foreplay. Doesn’t mean to - but the thoughts are intrusive. Insidious. Insatiable. He can’t help it.

He pushes up into his hand. Pauses. Waits out the feeling. Retracts. Repeats.

In his head, it’s you that he’s pushing into.

The sensation is entirely different, granted, but - fuck - he hasn’t gotten himself off all week and hasn’t had sex in far longer, so it all feels the same to him.

He hasn’t worked out the mental logistics.

His imagination is jumping from the kitchen to his bedroom and then back to the kitchen again. Can’t decide where all of this is happening - and then suddenly, he finds himself railing you in the utility room.

You’re perched above the washer, held in place by him. He can smell the laundry detergent. He’s got spotlights in the room, but they’re turned off. Only lights from the hallway and the city skyline illuminate you.

It’s obscure. The shadows in his head conceal you a little. He’s gripping your waist beneath your shirt. The baby gate which keeps Bam out of the laundry room is closed.

You’re not talking, just fucking, fucking, fucking and -

“Fuck,” he whines, hand is jerking at his cock, heart rate stuttering.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.

Shouldn’t let his mind jump again to a point where you’re fucking naked, and your sodden shirt is on a pile of yet-to-be-done laundry.

But then it jumps again, and one of his towels is on the floor. He’s laying down, back against it. The same position that he’s in now in his childhood bedroom - but he’s thinking about you. The silhouette of your body. The warm curves of your body. The way you bounce on his cock and then-

Oh god, it’s torture the way his cock throbs. Pre-cum leaks from his tip as his speed builds. It’s just a fantasy. Nothing more nothing less. But it’s you. And then he’s thinking about pulling you down for a kiss, and the scent of your perfume and the way you’d moan into his mouth and then his legs are shaking, torso tensing.

He’s taking it too far. Too fucking far. You. Fuck. He can’t. But he doesn’t stop. Just keeps going. Fucks his hand like it’s your pussy.

He’s pulling himself closer, closer, closer, and then he thinks about your voice, and the way you called him Daddy, and he can’t help himself. The pressure that releases in his stomach is catastrophic. Jungkook mewls your name. Calls you baby. Unloads all over himself. White hot cum paints his belly. Seeps into his belly button. Makes a mess of his hand as he coaxes the last few ropes out. It’s been a while since his last nut, but the amount he produces is not fucking normal.

It rolls down the side of his toned torso, Jungkook swallowing harshly as he tries to regulate his breathing. He doesn’t think he can. Doesn’t know what to do with himself. Just kind of lays there. Curses. Knots his brows together. Is frustrated with himself.

You’ve been friends for years. He’s never done anything like this before. He chalks it up to nothing more than him just being a little too horny for his own good. Cleans himself off. Puts his phone on charge. Berates himself for being a piece of shit. Spends a good ten or so minutes staring at the ceiling with an empty head before he falls asleep.

And it’s funny, because when you wake up in the morning, panties damp, the dream you had about Jungkook railing you in his own damn bed, you find yourself looking across the space where he usually sleeps. You reach ouch. Stroke the emptiness. Curse. Spend the rest of the day unbearably horny. It frustrates you. Makes you snappy with Jungkook when he calls.

He asks if you’ve seen Mingyu. You tell him no. He says maybe you should - but makes sure to add, “He’s still not allowed in my apartment.”

“I’m not gonna bring anyone into your space, Jungkook.”

It’s something he knows, and something he trusts you not to do, but he’s still reinforcing boundaries. Making sure that there are still some left. He thinks that if he pushes you closer to someone else, it will sort his brain out. Alleviate him of the guilt that he’s feeling.

But you don’t see Mingyu.

When Jungkook calls again that evening to find you walking Bam alone, he’s pleased. Doesn’t want some guy you’re fucking anywhere near his most prized possession. Bam, that is. Not you. But now that he thinks of it, he finds he doesn’t want Mingyu anywhere near you, either.

“Good day?” You ask, voice a lot lighter than it had been earlier.

Jungkook nods, but he doesn’t really smile. “I miss Bammie.”

You pout. “He misses you too. He’s gonna be so excited when you get home.”

The camera switches to the back camera so he can watch Bam bound along the path. He’s on his lead, snout sniffing in all the flowerbeds. It’s dark out, but there are enough lights on the trail for him to be able to see clearly.

“How is he? Eating okay? Going to the bathroom okay?”

“Eating like a champ, and producing shits to confirm that,” you say flatly. It’s definitely your least favourite part of animal ownership - but the reward is so much greater than having to pick up shit off a sidewalk.

“That’s my boy,” Jungkook grins, before turning his focus to you. “You all good? Seemed a little stressed earlier.”

Jungkook’s expression doesn’t change when the front camera flips back to you, but he finds his heart racing again. When you turn your head to check the car that’s driving past, he notices your hair is up with a claw clip. Just like it was in his… thoughts about you the night before. He likes how attentive you are - how you checked the source of the noise. You’re protective. Follow your instincts. Thinks you’re the best person he could have asked to look after Bam.

“I’m all good,” you say, and you really are.

“I know it’s not exactly the relaxing Chuseok you were planning-”

“Jungkook, it’s fine,” you smile. “It’s been nice. I like Bammie far more than I like you.”

“Understandable.”

You both smile, and Jungkook begins to babble about his day, telling you stories about his parents, and his weird cousin who never knows when to not say inappropriate things, and the aunt who keeps trying to set him up with all of her friends’ daughters.

“Don’t shit where you eat,” you remind him. “Sounds too close to home. Your auntie would never be out of your business.”

“I know, I know,” he rolls his eyes. “And hey - it’s been, like, a year since I last did that! Cut me some slack, gremlin. Anyways, Mingyu works in our building. You’re basically shitting where you eat.”

“I’m actually… I think I’m gonna cool things off with him.”

“Oh?”

“It’s like not a big deal. I’m just not really feeling it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, you’re right. I’m not,” Jungkook admits, but is sombre as he does so. He remembers how happy you’d seemed after the first few dates. “But I am sorry that you haven’t found the right guy yet, gremlin.”

“Who knows, maybe I’ll find the love of my life at the dog park tonight.”

“You are not allowed to use my baby as a flirting tactic.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Too late - I’m already here and there is an absolute DILF. Byeeeee.”

“Wait, no-”

You hang up before he can finish, with a grin on your face to rival a Cheshire cat.

The park is empty. Not a single DILF in sight. You ignore his call when he rings back. Will let him sweat it for a bit.

Jungkook lies awake that night.

Doesn’t do much.

His family are still chatting in the sitting room, but he can’t draw himself away from the sanctuary of his own private space, where your voice is still echoing around the room. He’s starting to understand why you’d been craving your space so much for the holiday period.

He doesn’t wanna have to return to the room with a false smile, and a feeling in the pit of his stomach that could rival the ache of getting the ferry across Busan harbour during monsoon season.

Doesn’t want to form cognitive thoughts that distract him from his mindless reflections of you.

Jungkook’s mind works like a house, and right now he’s in the annexe.

He rarely ever goes in there.

Finds he gets too comfortable and neglects the rest of the house. He’s got a garden to tend to, a kitchen to clean, and beds to make - but why would he leave the annexe when it has everything he needs? He’s comfortable there.

It’s normally reserved for the hyper-fixations he’s trying not to fixate on. He locks them away. Hasn’t really visited since he got hooked on GTA5 when he should have been studying for the University Entrance Exam. It’s still there, and he knows better than to pop it in his games console - but there’s someone else on the couch, now. It’s not just him in his mind-annexe. Someone’s in his space. He daren’t let himself go further into the room.

In fact, he’s desperately trying to jump across to the main house. Get himself out of the thoughts that are gonna consume him. He needs to close that God damn door.

But he watches the figure like a car crash. He’s scared. Unable to look away.

Not for fear of it being a monster hidden in the depths of his mind.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Monsters don’t wear their hair up with butterfly-shaped claw clips, or let the clasp of their necklace trail down their spine like that. Monsters don’t twist their back out of habit just to make it click. Monsters don’t spend their days doodling in a journal like the figure on his couch is doing.

But you do.

An iteration of Bam rests up against Jungkook’s leg in his mind, nose wet, tail lightly wagging, so he puts his hand on his pup’s shoulder for comfort. To support him. To guide him away from the annexe and back into the damn main house.

“C’mon,” he says to Bam, expecting him to leave. Expecting him to follow his commands.

It’s his head, after all - but Bam doesn’t heed his commands. Instead, his claws click against the hardwood floor and towards the figure on Jungkook’s couch. A palm outstretches, and Bam leans into it. Hums in content as a set of dark nails scratch at his ear.

“Hey, baby Bammie,” the figure sings and Jungkook knows that voice. Knows it so well that it’s hardly a surprise it’s embedded into his brain so perfectly.

And he knows.

He knows if he lets the person turn around exactly who it’s gonna be. He knows that he can’t let it happen. He won’t.

Because he and you are friends; nothing more, nothing less. Incompatible at best. A match made in hell; so wrong it could never be right.

Jungkook sits up. Shakes his head. The world in his mind tears away into darkness. He stands and tells himself to get a grip before joining his family. He needs the distraction. Needs to have cognitive thoughts. Can’t let himself get trapped. Can’t let him kid himself into thinking that you’re anything more than his friend.

It’s just cause he’s missing Bam, he reasons. Emotions are getting all mixed up. It’s the affection he feels for his beloved best friend that is getting misplaced onto you - although, if he thinks about it (which he won’t (knows better by this point (knows his mind can’t be trusted to behave))), he’d realise that you are his best friend.

It’s unfair to compare you to Bam because you’re an entirely different species, but there’s no other human he likes better than you.

One more day, and he’ll be home. One more day, and he won’t have to call you when he’s all sleepy and confused over his feelings. One more day, and things will be back to normal. One more measly day.

And then he’ll be reunited with Bam, and he won’t have the stress of family or thinking about the week of work ahead to contend with.

One more day. He can do this.

He will do it. Will barrel home at the speed of lightning; will stop only for red lights and maybe the occasional gas station snack, potato spirals on a pointed wooden skewer and deep-fried chicken slathered in a sauce he can never quite figure out the recipe for.

He’ll think about picking you up some bungeoppang - the ones filled with choux, not red bean paste - because he knows that you adore it so. There have been occasions when you’ve begged him to drive you out of the city to the large gas station out West just so you could have bungeoppang from one specific stall.

The signage is faded, and the prices haven’t changed since 2009, but that’s how you know it’s the good shit. A family recipe batter passed down for generations. The woman who makes it is always the same, and though she never remembers you, you always remember her. Beam so brightly Jungkook thinks he’s going blind whenever you spot her.

It’s only because of that one time you’d showed up with the sole mission to retrieve some of the delicious delicacies, only to be confronted with a handwritten ‘closed today, back tomorrow’ note taped to the menu. You never know when the next family emergency or trip out of town might be for your beloved bungeoppang-making Ajumma.

It’s a little after midday when Jungkook’s car rolls into the gas station. He’ll be home soon.

He tells himself that he’s just doing as he always does. Will get his tornado potato. Wolf it down. Go back for some chicken, maybe some tteok.

He’s stayed out of the annexe today. Doesn’t even think about the doorway because he knows the magnetic pull is far too strong for his cobalt heart.

Had ignored your call this morning - sorry, just saying goodbye to everyone. will see you later. - and had pushed all thoughts of you to the side. He’s even tried to stop thinking about Bam because thoughts of him will inevitably lead to thoughts of you and Jungkook is getting dizzy, quite frankly. It’s like he’s chasing his tail, never knowing when to admit defeat.

At least Bam gets enjoyment out of it when he does it. All Jungkook gets is lingering feelings of remorse.

But as he hits the home straight, a small paper bag full of choux bungeoppang cooling down on his passenger seat, his head starts to clear. He’s fixed the lock on the gate that leads to the annexe. Won’t go down that path.

Jungkook arrives ahead of schedule. Parks his car, and doesn’t tell you he’s arrived. Leaves his bag in the boot of the car, but picks up the pastries from his passenger seat.

Opens the door of his apartment quietly. You don’t hear it. Are too busy dancing around the living room with Bam to some mid-noughties classic.

“Hey,” you laugh a little breathlessly as finally notice him. He’s leaning against the wall. Is wearing his glasses, to make up for the long drive. You think it’s a crying shame he doesn’t wear them at work, too.

“Was I interrupting something?”

“No, not all,” you say. There are deep creases below your eyes, testament to the size of your smile. “Me and baby Bammie-” you reach over and stroke at his sides, a little rough and tumble, but perfectly joyous “- were just burning off a little energy before you got home.”

Jungkook crouches, arms outstretched for Bam. The puppy knocks into Jungkook’s chest, legs all moving slightly out of coordination, excitable whines sounding in his throat. His tail wags so fast you think he’d be able to produce electricity if he really tried.

They match each other’s energy; delirious happiness, content only when in one another’s presence.

“Hey buddy,” he coos. “Daddy’s home. I missed you. Missed me too, hey? C’mere.”

His strong hands stroke Bam’s sides, and you watch how playful they both are with unadulterated awe. It seems absurd how similar the two of them are; man and his best friend.

“He was lost without you,” you confirm.

“It’s that right?” Jungkook pouts as he scratches behind Bam’s ears, cradling his face in his hands. “Did Bammie miss Daddy?”

Bam barks. Yes.

“Hey, I’m sorry, boy. I’m home now, though. Daddy’s home.”

Yes, you think. Yes, he is.

The night dissolves much like Jungkook thought it would. You stay for dinner. Watch crappy entertainment shows, and laugh at how absurd people can be. There’s warmth in his apartment, even though he hasn’t turned the heating on.

“You’ll never know how much I appreciate this,” Jungkook says softly as midnight approaches. Bam sighs. There’s rain on the windows, but the storm doesn’t bother him tonight. Not in the slightest. “Thank you.”

Your head shakes. Smile perseveres. “Happy to do it. You know how much I love Bam.”

Silence wraps around your words like a velvet bow, pulled taut. There’s no double knot, but there needn’t be. It isn’t unravelling any time soon.

“So,” you change topic. “How long do you reckon it will take the new secretary to fall in love with you? I’m thinking maybe four days.”

Jungkook wants to make a joke; tease you about how your mind jumped from how much you love his dog, to the idea of loving him. Not you loving him, granted, but it only took a few electrical signals between neurons for you to get there. Must associate him with love pretty closely.

“Four days? Far too quick.” Jungkook pauses. “You’ve been staying here for four days. Reckon that’s an appropriate amount of time to fall in love with someone?”

He’s being facetious. It’s all in jest and yet you feel your heart beat a little faster. Only for a moment. There’s a mild concern in your features, fearful that he can somehow sense the thoughts you’ve been having; the fantasies, the daydreams, the moments of weakness.

You look at him with eyes he doesn’t recognise. Your lashes are low. Sultry, even. Suggestive. Teasing.

And then, they roll.

“Jeon, you have those poor girls on their knees within a single ‘hello’. Don’t act like you don’t know it, you big old flirt.”

“If Bam wasn’t so peaceful, I’d kick you,” he mumbles, stroking at the dark fur behind his pup’s ear. Bam sighs, content to have him back. There’s a smile on Jungkook’s lips. Both are perfectly content. Both are happy to be with the people they like the most in the world.

“He’d just defend me,” you taunt. There’s a serenity to your jokes, and light-hearted banter that means nothing more, nothing less than just enjoyment of one another’s company. “I’m his favourite now.”

Jungkook laughs. Scratches a little firmer behind Bam’s ear. “You hear that, boy? Gremlin really thinks you’d choose her over me.”

You pull your torso back. Turn your body to face his. Let disbelief wash over your features, as if Jungkook saying shit like that’s a surprise. The movement alerts Bam, his head lifting, the chain links of his collar rattling. He looks over to you, then back to Jungkook.

“He LOVES me.”

“I thought dogs are supposed to take after their owners, though?” Jungkook teases. “And I can’t fuckin’ stand you.”

Your playful shock dissolves into narrowed eyes and a suppressed grin. Bam’s looking at you again, so you cup his dainty face and scratch the underside of his jaw. “You hear that, baby Bammie? How are you so lovely when your Daddy is such an asshole?”

Jungkook’s steady gaze lifts to you from Bam. You’re still cooing at the puppy, scratching beneath his snout, but Jungkook’s back in that damn annexe again. He isn’t smiling - but his eyes are unbelievably soft.

So, so velvety. Like satin, maybe; ribbons tied around ponytails. Brushed cotton, perhaps; his still-warm bedsheets fresh out of the tumble dryer.

Soft, like he imagines your hair would be; released from its claw clip, falling around his face. Soft, like he imagines your lips would be; pressed against his, in the privacy of his bedroom. Soft, like he imagines your laugh would be; soundtracking the living alarm clock that is Jeon Bam, as he bundles onto Jungkook’s bed at just gone six-thirty the following morning.

But then you look up at him, and his stare is hard. Still sparkling, yes - but diamonds, not stars. Concrete speckled. Pennies tossed in an empty well; the steel bolt of his door which keeps the outside world at bay.

Hard, like he imagines your teeth would be; tugging on his bottom lip in the shadows of his bedroom. Hard, like he imagines your nails would be; leaving a trail of ruby red sin down his back. Hard, like he imagines your laboured breaths would be; lips resting ajar against his, your very essence pouring into him as he pushes into you.

Hard. Soft. Confusing and conflicting, and just so unbelievably him.

“What?” you question, bemused by the way his demeanour changed. “‘Daddy’ really gets you, huh?”

“Does fuck all for me,” he says with a little temperance, but there’s a smirk on his lips. His tongue runs along the inside of his cheek.

A few have tried the moniker on him, but it never fit well. Would fall from their lips and crash to his bedroom floor. He’d just kiss them to shut them up.

But you… You have him reconsidering. Have him a little hot beneath his sweats.

It’s not really the idea of being your Daddy, but the concept of being one full-stop that has him adjusting his legs slightly. He’s a man of big investments, after all. No greater investment than starting a life with another person. He likes the idea of it.

Makes him think of you talking with a toddler - I’m not sure, baby, go ask Daddy -and the pitter-patter of feet across the hardwood floors of his apartment. Makes him think how gentle you are with Bam, and how wonderful he knows you’d be with a kid. Makes him think all kinds of shit he’s never let himself indulge in before.

When he goes to bed that evening, and his sheets are seeped in the scent of your perfume, he thinks of it all over again.

Thinks of you.

And realises he can’t think about you without his heart racing, any more.

The door of the annexe in his mind is broken, now. Off its hinges.

And apparently, so is he.

Shit.

part two (x)

[base0h]

HOW DO YOU NOT EVEN KNOW?

he said something awful, something he should’ve never said or thought about saying. but he said it, and now the damage was done. and he didn’t even know what he’d done, leaving you alone to reflect on the damage (feat. inarizaki! thank you for requesting this anon :)) kori, your best friend was always a mediator, but even this time she knew that you were the victim, and he was the bad guy (I get confused whenever I start using too many y/f/n and stuff like that so I just stuck my oc in here instead ✌️)

warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, s/o reader, angst, this does not have a happy ending with comfort sorry, your dialogue is in white, kori’s dialogue is in purple, kori is an oc not a canon character (click here for more info abt her)

You knew Atsumu was popular, that wasn’t a surprise. He was good looking, a talented volleyball player, and he was charismatic. What was there not to like about him?

But still. Why did it still hurt and make you agitated whenever other students would fawn over him? You knew it was bound to happen, hell— you fawn over him too as your boyfriend.

If you had to hear one more deafening squeal of his name, you’d probably lose your mind.

“Miya-kun!!”

“Miya-senpai!”

The worst part was that he always stopped and made time for them. Even when he was with you. You couldn’t lie to yourself, it hurt everytime you saw him smiling at the fans and giving them his time and attention when he probably should be giving it to you, his actual s/o.

You voiced your worries and concerns to your friend who always listened and lended her ears to you.

“I probably shouldn’t be feeling like this.. I mean he loves me right? Not the fans.” You said softly, but your tone was uncertain, you honestly weren’t sure what you were saying was true or not, and that scared you even more.

“No I think it’s pretty valid to feel like that. It ain’t fair for him to do that in front of you especially if you’re on an actual date. He should be paying attention to you, not some random fangirls or fanboys.” Kori replied, scribbling away on her tablet as she sketched and drew as she was listening and talking. Kori always drew when listening, she had a way with multitasking.

You found it funny that Kori offered such sage wisdom and support despite the girl never having been in a relationship nor having a crush on anyone. “Kori how do you always know about relationship stuff when you’ve never even been in one before?”

Kori looked up from her tablet with a slightly hurt expression. “I really didn’t need that stray comment—?”

You giggled, snickering to yourself as you reassured your friend that you were just teasing and joking around. You knew Kori was one of the sweetest human beings on earth, and you trusted her to have your back when you needed her to.

“But seriously though, you should tell him what you’re feeling. He’s so dense that I don’t think bro would know unless you tell him directly.” Kori suggested, going back to drawing. She was right, Atsumu was quite oblivious, and probably thought nothing of what he was doing since he was so used to the attention.

So you decided to gather your courage to speak to the blonde twin about your concerns. You thought that it’d go ok, maybe he’d be a bit confused, but he would comply and maybe give you a hug or a couple kisses to reassure you.

“Huh? Whaddya talkin’ about babe?”

…

What did he mean, “whaddya talkin’ about”?

You thought you worded yourself quite clearly for him to understand, you knew he wasn’t stupid or anything— at least not THAT stupid.

“So yer worried about all the other people talkin’ to me? Babe don’t worry, it ain’t like I’m kissin’ ‘em or anything.”

You felt your heart twist. Did he just— not get it? Or did he not care? Did he care about you and everyone else the same? No. That can’t be right, you were catastrophizing things.

“No that’s not— I’m just— Atsumu wait. Please listen for a second—“ you tried grabbing his arm, but he immediately pulled it away.

“I gotta go to practice y/n, ok? Can it wait till after?”

he used your name instead of a nickname.

“It’ll take like five seconds for me to explain—“

“Just leave me be y/n! Yer insecurities can’t get in the way of my practicing, nationals are coming up and you’re tellin’ me yer worried about other students talkin’ to me? Yer just as annoying and as distracting as them at this point!”

“you’re just as annoying and as distracting as them”

That sentence echoed over and over again in your mind. He didn’t really mean that right? He was just stressed because of nationals? He’d certainly apologize right?

But all you heard were his quick receding footsteps that disappeared as he walked into the gym, closing the door behind him. You were frozen there for god knows how long. It felt like a few seconds, but to bystanders and other students walking by, you looked like you’d passed out standing up.

“Uh— y/n…? You good?” A familiar voice asked, tapping your shoulder lightly. You snapped out of your daze and looked to your side where your friend Kori was, looking at you with concern and slight worry in her sleepy golden amber eyes.

You hadn’t even realized tears had pricked your eyes, which earned a silent gasp from your friend. “Whoa what happened? Did you get hurt or something??” She asked worriedly, her eyes scanning your body for any injuries. Your breath trembled as you just slumped over into Kori’s shoulder, letting out a choked sob that you didn’t know you were holding in.

Kori’s eyes were wide with concern as she hesitantly pat your back, returning the hug. She didn’t say anything or press you to explain the situation yet, she just let you cry for as long as you needed, offering tissues and water to help you calm down a bit.

After you had managed to explain what happened, Kori sighed knowingly, as if she wasn’t surprised he’d say that. “He was never the nicest dude around y/n. I’m sorry he said that to you that’s wrong.” Her tone was empathetic and gentle, and she tried her best to avoid saying anything bad about the blonde. You knew him and her weren’t on the best of terms for some reason, reasons unknown even to Kori, Atsumu just didn’t like her for some reason.

Kori did her best to try and at least distract you. You went over to her house after school and she did whatever you felt like doing. Watching TV, studying, playing games, listening to music, honestly anything she’d do to help you at least a little. You couldn’t lie it did help to distract yourself, it felt good to not think about Atsumu. It felt— freeing.

You hadn’t felt this free and light in a while. You didn’t even realize how much your worries and concerns about Atsumu’s loyalty had weighed down on you.

Ding, ding

Your phone chimed, a new text message incoming. You hoped, hoped that it would be from Atsumu. Why did you hope for that? You felt so free when you weren’t thinking about him, why did you want him to text you? Why did you still want him to be with you and spend time with you despite what he did, and how he dressed you out?

You peeked at your notifications, and sure enough, it was from him. You saw his profile picture at the beginning of the textbox, a funny weird picture which was most likely taken by Suna as he was fighting with his other half.

“Is it him?” Kori’s voice made you jump, you could never get used to how deep it was, it was kind of scary whenever she’d talk out of nowhere. You nodded, opening up your messages to see what he had said.

Tsumu: Hey where are u? Didn’t you have club today? It’s Wednesday I always meet you after school to walk you home.

Should you answer? Honestly you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to act like everything was fine. It wasn’t fine. You closed your phone, just leaving him on read as you went back to watching the TV in front of you. It was playing your favorite anime, and Kori was drawing as per usual right next to you.

“What did tweedledum say?” Kori asked curiously, her Apple Pencil scribbling and scraping against her iPad screen in a precise, sharp manner. You couldn’t help but crack a smile at Kori’s nickname for Atsumu. Kori called the twins “tweedledee and tweedledum”. You weren’t sure if she even knew their actual names still. Of course she gave Atsumu the tweedledum name because he was indeed dum(b) about 90% of the time.

“He just asked where I was. I usually stay late for club which ends at the same time as his practice so we usually walked home together. But I skipped today.” You explained as Kori hummed softly in response. Kori didn’t pry or try to bring up the subject again for the rest of the time you were at her house. She thought it would be better to just— let you not think about it too much.

She offered for you to stay over for the night, but you said no to that. But Kori was worried for you, she wanted to make sure you were ok—so she said she could walk you home at least, but you shook your head, you couldn’t make her walk you home too after all she’d done for you already. So you waved goodbye to her, saying goodbye to her mom that had just pulled in from work as well with a soft smile that was half genuine, and half fake.

One half was genuinely happy after Kori helped you out, but the other half was still stuck on that dumb blonde. You’d gotten several messages from him on both Snapchat and text.

Tsumu: hello?? Don’t just leave me on read babe wth??

Tsumu: where even are you? Are you at someone’s house??

You then jumped, shit. Your Snapchat location. You almost forgot to turn it off. You quickly opened the app and turned off your location sharing before shoving your phone back into your pocket, putting on your headphones to try and focus on something different. You blasted music on your walk home, listening to anything your shuffled playlist would give you.

It was like your playlist knew. It kept playing these sad angsty songs that you liked listening to during late nights where sleep just couldn’t find you. For the second time that day, you cried, letting out choked and uneven sobs that you once again did not know you were holding onto. You didn’t even know why you were so hurt by what he said, it’s not like he broke up with you or anything. But still— why did it hurt like he just shot you four times straight through your heart and soul?

It was as if the bullets remained, not exiting your body, but lodging themselves deeper into your torn up heart, digging deeper and farther inside of you, not having any plans of leaving you.

The only thing comforting you now were the snug fit of the soft foam ears of your headphones, and your long sleeves that couldn’t reach past your wrists, staying at an uncomfortably short length that only made you feel worse. Any little thing made everything worse. Everything was just too much. Some part of you thought maybe it would’ve been better to stay at Kori’s like she’d offered before. But you were already too far away to turn back now, you’d just have to hope that the comfort of your own home would suffice.

Osamu wasn’t as popular as his twin brother Atsumu. But that didn’t mean he was unpopular. He was just overshadowed by his twin, or as he called it, his “better half”.

It was annoying how they’d all gather around his brother, he too found it kind of disturbing and weird. However of course he felt a bit envious, insecure about his own likability and looks. Did people find his brother more attractive despite them being identical twins? But why? Was it just him?

You’d been friends with the twins for a long while now, ever since middle school, even before they had their distinguishing dyed hair. You liked Osamu better the minute you met them both. Atsumu was so brazen and confident, and he wasn’t afraid to express his high standards of his fellow players, even upperclassmen.

You found it off putting how offensive the blonde could be to people. It was irritating to be around him. Osamu was different. He was pleasant to be around. He had a sense of humor, was laid back, reserved, and friendly for the most part.

He loved food, you knew that from the first time you sat with him in middle school for lunch recess. His droopy tired eyes would widen and sparkle whenever he saw food in front of him, specifically onigiri. It was cute to you, how he’d light up and become a completely different looking person at the sight of some simple, but satiating food. It was one of the many reasons why you chose him and not anyone else.

You felt so confused and baffled that Osamu didn’t see himself the same way you did. You saw someone special, he saw someone that was second best.

You tried. You really did.

Tried to make him see that he was perfect in his own way, perfect in your eyes, perfect for you.

But there was only so much you could do. Only so much you could say. He had to choose to believe your words, and do the rest on his own. It was called self confidence for a reason after all.

Your anniversary was coming up, it’d been 2 years since you two started dating officially. You took this as an opportunity to plan something special for you and your boyfriend this year. You knew he’d been stressed lately because of the upcoming tournaments, and because his twin was putting more pressure on him than ever. You couldn’t count the amount of times you’d seen Atsumu chewing him out for accidentally missing a serve, a block, a receive, or a spike.

Every mistake he made, every single hesitation, his brother caught it and made sure Osamu knew exactly what he did wrong despite the poor gray haired twin already being well aware about what he’d done wrong. Having someone rub everything in his face was degrading and mentally exhausting.

Osamu was usually patient, you commended him for being as patient as he was with his brother. But it was taking a toll on his self esteem that was already fragile. Atsumu was basically hitting him in the same spot over and over again, not allowing the previous bruises heal before making a new one in the same area, eventually leaving a mark that won’t ever heal nor fully fade away.

But next week will be different. You’d make sure of it. You even enlisted the help from your friend to help you figure out some nice plans or ideas of what you could do with Osamu. However you knew at some point you’d have to overcome your beef with Atsumu for a moment, and ask him his thoughts. He was Osamu’s twin brother after all, he knew him better than anyone, maybe even better than you.

“You sure you gotta ask him?” Kori asked. Ugh, you didn’t want to of course. But yes, you’d have to put your dislike for his horrid personality aside for your boyfriend’s sake. You wanted your anniversary to be perfect after all.

“Can you come with me to ask him please?” You asked Kori, looking at her with pleading eyes, clasping your hands together. Kori looked at you, putting her pencil down as she sighed.

“Yeah no sorry you’re on your own.” Kori said with an apologetic expression. You let out a small groan, you knew Atsumu had some sort of beef with Kori, and Kori didn’t want to deal with a beef she didn’t even know was from.

“Oh come on please??”

“…Y/n you already know what will happen if I go with you.”

“Please Yoyo you’re my best friend—“ You tried using the nickname that usually got Kori’s attention, holding your friend’s hands with pleading eyes. If Kori went with you, you could make her ask instead of you, and if he got too exasperating to stand any longer, you’d have an excuse to leave.

Kori looked at you with a narrow and skeptical squint when you used that nickname on her.

“Don’t use that—“

“What, you don’t like it Yoyo-chan?”

“Bro.”

“I’ll stop if you come with me.”

“Nice try.”

You pouted and slapped her shoulder playfully with feigned anger as you crossed your arms over your chest with a sigh. But it couldn’t be helped, it wouldn’t be too horrible right?

“Huh? Yer asking me for help? That’s a new one.”

Ugh. It was horrible.

You covered your perturbed expression, but you couldn’t hide the sharp glare of your eyes as you tried to “fake it till you make it” as they say, and act cordial. But god, you wanted to tear off that smug looking grin off his face so badly. The tone he used was so condescending and belittling, it made you want to crush him with your bare hands, but you honestly couldn’t tell if that was just his normal tone of voice or if he was trying to sound like an egotistical asshole all the time.

Because if he was trying? He was doing an absolutely stupendous job.

“I just wanted to know— what are some of Osamu’s favorite things to do? I mean— I know what he likes but you’re his brother.. So I thought you’d know better than me.” You said, reluctantly swallowing a snarky insult you were about to accidentally say without thinking.

Atsumu scoffed and grinned at you, and you were expecting him to tease you which might’ve been your last straw, but surprisingly, he didn’t.

“Aw that’s sweet actually. I see why he loves ya so much.” You looked at him, expecting to maybe see some kind of smirk or malicious glint in his eyes, but no, he was genuinely saying that. You were pleasantly surprised, maybe this wouldn’t be too bad after all.

You felt yourself smile at the fact that Osamu had made it clear to his brother of his love for you. If even someone as dense and emotionally oblivious as Atsumu could tell, then Osamu must’ve talked about you a lot. The thought of him talking about you so much made your heart flutter, sending a rush of joy and warmth through your veins, fueling your excitement and determination to plan the upcoming special day.

As you two talked, your excitement grew with each suggestion Atsumu made. Your smile was spread wide across your face, filled with genuine adoration and anticipation from how excited you were to surprise your beloved.

However, you failed to realize that Osamu might’ve gotten spoiled early. Spoiled about the wrong thing.

He saw you, chatting with his twin with your beautiful sweet smile that melted his heart to a puddle whenever you showed him. It absolutely destroyed him to see you blessing his brother with the sight instead of him.

Osamu knew you weren’t super close with him, but it’d always been in the back of his mind.

Is he better than me? He’s probably more fun.

Am I too boring?

Am I less good looking?

Am I always gonna be known as “Atsumu’s twin brother”?

He cursed and muttered painfully to himself as he walked off, he couldn’t watch you continue smiling and talking with his better half so cheerfully. Oh if only he had heard what you were talking about, then he would understand everything.

But he left, his fragile heart and self esteem shattered to unmendable pieces of a jigsaw that would never fit back together because of its missing piece.

He felt like a waste. He truly did.

Oh but no it was the opposite of what he thought.. You were only talking to his brother so enthusiastically because you were planning something special for him.

However, things get lost in translation. Misconceptions cause one person to become blind to the truth, quick to catastrophize, making haste to blame and lock away their feelings to try and preserve what they have left to spare. For Osamu? This was probably the worst misunderstanding, worse than any other situation you’d hear about. This was worse.

Oh this was bad. You just kept smiling and talking eagerly with his brother from a distance, that's all Osamu could see. His mind made up the subject of the conversation he thought you were having with Atsumu, his mind immediately jumping to conclusions that were incorrect. Yet there you were, blissfully unaware of the accidental turmoil you’d caused your boyfriend to suffocate in. Alone. Basking with his old friend, second place.

It was the day, finally it had arrived— your anniversary! You had so many things rushing through your buzzing mind, your heart racing with the good kind of anxiety and anticipation of the day ahead. You absolutely couldn’t wait to see Osamu, you could barely contain yourself from excitement.

You found this restaurant with Kori by researching online. It was a place that specialized in making onigiri, which was an establishment run by an old married couple that had been working there for generations. Kori had said that usually these types of places had the best food, and she was certainly not wrong about that.

You knew it was his favorite, so you thought it would for sure make him happy if you took him there, right?

You were expecting to wake up with a message from Osamu, but weirdly, he didn’t, your notifications were as empty as you left them last night. You thought nothing of it, maybe he’d just been too busy this morning to text you, he’d probably just tell you in person.

With a slight skip in your step, you walked up the stairs of Inarizaki, the familiar chatter and buzzing of fellow students’ varying footsteps echoing throughout the long hallways filled with people. Your gaze searched each head, each person’s hair color registering in your mind as you scanned the area. You were searching for one with a certain shade of gray…

There he was, the one with gray hair by the lockers!

You had to push your way through some students who didn’t seem to understand that perhaps having a conversation in the middle of the hallway was inconvenient for everyone around them. But that didn’t matter right now, all that mattered was getting to your boyfriend.

“Samu! I found this super cute place that’s run by this family and they specialize in onigiri— I wanna take you there after school today ok?” Your vice was so chipper and enthusiastic, filled with adoration and love as he shut his locker door slightly harsher than normal. His gaze looked over to you, and you were immediately silenced by how cold it was. It was sharp, razor sharp, and frigid like a blizzard was raging in his dark irises.

You were confused— maybe he was just tired.. Yeah, that was probably it.

“…You ok Samu? We don’t have to go if you don’t want to I just thought that maybe you’d—“

“Why don’t ya go with Atsumu? You seemed awfully chummy with him earlier, so just go with him.” He snapped coldly. But his eyes, they looked so pained, hurt, and somber, not cold and apathetic like his tone.

And with that, he left you to drown in his quicksand-like words, his footsteps receding as he disappeared in the crowd of countless students.

If his words weren’t already enough, you were hit with the sudden realization that he had forgotten about your anniversary, the entire reason behind why you’d asked him to go with you.

What did he mean “you seemed awfully chummy with him earlier”?? What was he— oh.

Oh no.

No no no— he completely misunderstood!

You were talking with Atsumu about today and what you were planning on doing with HIM! It had nothing to do with Atsumu in the slightest!

But you knew Osamu. Too well at that. You knew that he’d be avoiding you now, avoiding you like the plague. He acted petty like that, just like his brother whom he refuses to admit is very similar to him in certain ways.

You knew he wouldn’t let you explain. But what really tore at your soul was that he didn’t even remember today was your anniversary. You had thought that maybe his lack of a “happy anniversary” message in the morning was a fluke, that he was just trying to hurry out the door to make it to school on time.

Now you knew he’d actually completely forgotten. Your throat felt so tight, your stomach hurt from guilt, but also betrayal.

Some part of you, some part of you knew this was going to happen. Or some form of this exact situation at least. You knew he felt inferior to his brother, and that it killed him inside. You’d tried your very hardest to make it so he knew you loved him and you always would choose him and no one else. But what could you do if he just wouldn’t believe your words, let alone believe in himself?

You, his s/o who he’s supposed to confide in, to trust in, to take your word over anyone else’s, didn’t trust your own words that you’d repeated so many times that you felt like a broken record.

He said he did understand and believe it, but he really didn’t. All those nods and silent “mhms” were all fake, he was never really listening. What occurred just moments ago that left you suffocating in pained silence was proof enough of that.

How many times did you have to fucking say it to him? Why were you the one that had to fix his insecurities? They were his insecurities, not yours. It’s self esteem, not your esteem. He was acting petty and jealous, and it was honestly starting to wear your patience thin.

Now that you were reflecting truthfully, you couldn’t remember the last time he’d talked to you about anything other than his stresses at practice, or his brother. It was always something negative.. you hadn’t realized how bad it wore you down.

You were constantly dumped with negative emotions, and honestly, it could be called trauma dumping at this point. It was mentally exhausting. Having to reassure him every single day of something you tried so hard to get him to believe in.

But if he still wouldn’t trust your word, why were you wasting your energy and devotion on his irreversible immaturity? Why did you have to do all the work only to receive bad news all the time and be expected to make him feel better about himself? It was making you feel bad about yourself. It was taking a toll on you.

You were basically being the positive energy for two people when it was already exhausting enough to be your own supporter.

You let out a sigh of relief, exhaling tension you didn’t know you truly had. Your mind had decided it was time for you to move on, time for you to make him figure it out on his own. He was a 2nd year student for god's sake, he was damn well old enough to fix his own issues.

However with the exhale, you felt your eyes prick with tears of hurt and betrayal from his carelessness, from his complete lack of regard for your own feelings. He had forgotten your 2 year anniversary, it wasn’t like it was on leap year or something! It was an easy date to remember!

But you assumed that he was so self consumed that perhaps his mind thought it was meaningless to remember. That you and your words were not memorable enough, nor important enough to form a lasting memory.

He was everything to you, and you were everything to him too. So why was he like this? Why was he so insecure and petty? Why didn’t he believe in what you were telling him so adamantly?

He only believed his own thoughts, his word came first. You loved him so much, but it was getting more and increasingly difficult to keep loving him unconditionally. It was an uphill battle.

And you were miserably losing.

You had no chance against his own self being the enemy. You would come in second place no matter how hard you fought because there was no first place for you to take.

You knew he wasn’t the sweetest guy around. He just wasn’t a warm and fuzzy type of person. But that didn’t mean he didn’t care about you, of course he did. You were the only one he didn’t actively search for dirt to use as blackmail material later.

He wasn’t the most warm and fuzzy person that’s for sure, but you loved him anyway. His fox-like eyes, his quiet and stoic demeanor, his tall stature, and his funny hobby of filming the twins fighting or bickering with each other to save for future references and laughs.

The team often wondered how he ended up making you, a kind, friendly, and sincere person, fall in love with him, the opposite of you. He thought about this as well, and sometimes felt guilty about the way he acted, how he was so detached and cold sometimes. Your love language being physical affection and touch combined with being Suna’s s/o was not a good synergy because he wasn’t the biggest fan of too much affection. Of course hugs, cuddles, kisses are all things he loves to give and receive. But in moderation. He got tired of it after too much.

However you did not. You could be pressed against him all day, in fact, holding his hand or being in contact every second you were with him sounded like the perfect scenario to you.

He never admitted it out loud, and didn’t plan to, but your hugs from behind his chair as he’s working on homework or studying were his favorite. The feeling of your arms wrapped around him from behind which allowed him to continue working on what was in front of him, but still allowing you to be near him, for your comforting presence be as close as possible.

Lately he’d gotten a lot of those, courtesy of the upcoming midterms. Now whenever you came over, he was always studying or working on schoolwork with his headphones on, his head leaning over and close to his desk as he worked countless hours and days, including nights. You were straying to get worried by the amount of empty energy drink cans that had accumulated on his desk, even on the top of his dresser. It was so bad that you could notice it while FaceTiming him. Not to mention the trash can underneath his desk was most likely full of them as well, just hidden from the view of the camera.

This was surely not good for him. At all.

Your mind was filled with concerned thoughts of him, worry swirling in your mind, distracting you from your own midterms that you had to study for as well. You suddenly had an idea during the peak of boredom during your math class.

You could go over to Suna’s after school, and buy you both some sort of bento box to eat. You knew Suna probably hadn’t eaten a real meal other than ice pops in days. He kept failing to realize that frozen fruity ice water in the shape of a flattened cylinder wasn’t exactly full of nutrients. Then you two could study together afterwards. Two minds working in tandem were better than two on their own. Or that’s what you thought at least.

Pulling out your phone discreetly, you texted Suna to let him know you were coming over, knowing that he probably would be on his phone right about now.

You: Hey I’m gonna come over today after school with some snacks and food, maybe we can study together?

….

Suna: yeah sure. I can’t text rn I gotta pay attention

You: oh my bad, I’ll see you after school

read at 3:32pm

You were a bit surprised that he was actively paying attention during class, especially since right about now he was most likely in AP world history. His tone even through text sounded stressed and a bit more harsh and cold than usual, but you knew he was anxious and worked up about the midterms which was absolutely valid and normal. But still, it lacked the usual hint of warmth that his texts usually had, regardless of his word choice.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of the clock, your gaze intently focused on each centimeter the second hand moved, slowly making its way around the entire circular clock on the wall, rotation after rotation. You swore the second hand moved backwards a couple times, as if time were quite literally reversing as you stared at the clock.

Your teacher’s lecture was essentially gibberish, your brain couldn’t focus on anything but the thought of going home to study and take care of your boyfriend who obviously needed the help. You were probably going to need help too from the looks of it, seeing as how you didn’t remember a single thing nor comprehend anything your teacher was saying.

RING RING

You practically fell out of your seat at the piercing ringing of the school dismissal bell. You sprung to your feet, as did everyone else, and as you were packing up your things, your teacher suddenly shouted something, his voice shouting over the commotion that had started from the bell’s relieving cry.

“Excuse me? The bell doesn’t dismiss you, I do!”

Oh for god's sakes— you wanted to take the damn bell and smack his head with it for saying that. Everyone audibly groaned, sitting back down with a synced chorus of irritated and grumpy sighs.

“Ok the homework is just studying and reviewing the accumulated material for the midterm on Thursday. You’re dismissed.”

…Are you serious?

That was it?

That was what he made you all stay for?

Oh nah god give you strength to not clock this bald, old, bitter ass, Walmart bill nye in the face with your textbook. You thought about it, seriously debating whether or not it’d be worth it. But you walked past him, deciding it wasn’t worth your time. You took a deep breath in and out, exhaling the pain of that math class as you walked with a determined look in your eyes. You had a plan.

You’d hit the convenience store on the way to Suna’s house, buy some food for the two of you, and then go over to his house to help him actually eat a normal meal, maybe clean up a bit, and then study of course.

With a fast and brisk pace, you walked into the store with a singular goal in mind, quickly picking out a couple of bentos for the both of you. Exiting the store right after you walked in, your quick pace never wavered as you made your way towards your boyfriend’s house, the plastic bag full of the food and snacks in your left hand, your bag in your right, determination in your eyes, and compassion in your heart.

As you knocked on the door, you saw the familiar face of his mom who immediately smiled upon seeing and recognizing you.

“Ah y/n, I’m so glad you’re here actually. Rintaro just got home— he’s been so quiet lately. He’s been locked up in his room everyday after school and on the weekends.. I think he’s studying but I’m a bit worried that it’s too much. The boy won’t listen to me either about drinking all those energy drinks.. maybe you’ll have better luck?”

His mom looked at you with hopeful eyes, and you smiled, nodding and reassuring her you’d try your best to help. His mom thanked you with a grateful smile, nodding as you walked up the stairs, down the familiar hallway to your boyfriend’s room.

You thought about knocking first. Should you? He was your boyfriend.. Did you really need to knock? Well it was courteous to knock before entering anyone’s do—

And suddenly the door opened for you, revealing the tall figure of Suna in front of you. His narrow, fox-like eyes droopy, tired, and strained from staring at a laptop for too long, or reading in the dark. He had faint dark circles underneath his hazel green eyes, and his hands were a bit shaky, just barely noticeable, probably from the obscene amount of caffeine he’d consumed these past few days to stay up and study. You showed him the bag full of various snacks and food with a little smile before he stepped aside, opening the for further for you to come into his room.

Your eyes widened slightly, but you stayed silent as you took in the whirlwind of disarray that was your boyfriend’s room. It looked like hurricane Katrina had ravaged his room. Empty cans everywhere, wrappers from countless ice pops, pencil and eraser shavings, crumpled up pieces of paper, and dirty clothes. It didn’t smell wonderful, that's for sure.

You saw just how exhausted he looked, how stressed and anxious he was. He never usually studied this hard for school, in fact— you’d never really seen him studying much at all. Midterms plus the stress of the upcoming volleyball qualifying tournaments were probably weighing down on him more than he could handle. You looked at him with a worried and sorry look on your face as you watched him eat his bento in silence.

He did not utter a single word, not a hello, not a how are you, just nothing but the silence and the sounds of chewing. It was awkward for you to say the least. So you decided to break this uncomfortable silence, trying to bring up a more light hearted topic to hopefully bring some light to his dark room.

“So.. Anything new and funny happen with the twins?”

You knew he liked to leave the twins to fight and bicker without stopping them because it was fun to film their brawls. He could care less about them hurting each other by accident, it was entertaining to watch them fight. He didn’t respond, he simply kept chewing, his eyes lost in thought as they stared at the ground with nothing but a vacant empty iris with no color or hue. It was like all the color was sucked out of his eyes, and it was starting to take his skin too. He was getting paler as you sat and stared at him!

Maybe he didn’t hear you, so you repeated yourself a second time, not noticing how the moment you started speaking, his fists clenched and trembled as he gripped his pant legs.

“Rin?? Can you hear m—“

“God y/n can you shut the hell up please?!” He snapped, his fist slamming against the hardwood floor, making the house shake just slightly, making you jump in surprise and shock. Your eyes were wide, searching his gaze for a hint of guilt or remorse, maybe he was just stressed and overstimulated?

But his eyes were ice cold, filled with irritation and frustration, not a hint of remorse in them. Did.. did he really mean that?

Surely he didn’t.

No he didn’t, right?

…Right?

“S-sorry..” You couldn’t help but stutter a bit, taken aback by his sudden outburst. He continued eating in silence, you could practically feel his frustration and stress seething off of him like smoke. You purse your lips together, struggling to not release your tears.

You knew it wasn’t all that bad, but still, it hurt to hear him say that to you. You knew it wasn’t supposed to make you feel this horrible, but it did. No amount of convincing yourself it wasn’t that bad of a sentence would take away or lessen the pain it gave you.

About 39 minutes of dead silence followed, and you got up, taking all the empty cans and containers scattered across his room and sticking it all into a trash bag, tying it up and leaving it by his door for him to take out later. You decided that maybe it would be best to leave him alone, and grabbed your things, opening the door to leave, glancing back at your boyfriend who was studying, wearing his headphones. You wanted to say goodbye, you wanted to say you loved him and to not push itself too far. Most of all, you wanted to hear him say that he loved you. But judging from earlier, he probably wouldn’t even want to hear your voice at all.

“See you later Suna.” You muttered under your breath, closing the door behind you as you left. Did he even realize you were leaving? He didn’t even look up from his desk. He didn’t thank you for the food. He didn’t thank you for cleaning up. He didn’t thank you for trying to help him. Nothing you did was acknowledged. You went out of your way to help him, and it appeared that maybe that wasn’t the right thing to do.

You quietly walked down the steps, opening the front door and closing it behind you.

With your back against the wall, hidden from Suna’s family, that’s when you began to feel tears welling up in your eyes, falling down your cheeks as you hid your face in your sleeves. Why were you crying? Was the stress of the midterms catching up to you too? Or was it purely because of his outburst?

You didn’t know. Hell— you didn’t know anything did you? Obviously not it seemed.

a/n - idk why but I’m in a very angsty mood 😂 I’m sorry for hurting you guys I really am 😭😭😭

[sadhours]

Pervy Billy please 🤤🤤🤤

okay okay, here’s a teaser of my upcoming series stuck in the middle with you

billy hargrove x pamela oc!mayfield

cw: 18+ minors dni, perv!billy, stepcest, psuedocest, teasing, groping, dry humping and masturbation

🎀🤍🚬🍦

It’s like the little bitch does it on purpose. Those shorts can barely be classified as such, they’re practically just underwear and she’s prancing around the house like she’s trying to get a rise out of Billy. It’s making him pretty damn bricked up, just trying to enjoy his fucking bowl of Wheaties.

They’re alone. Neil and Susan shopping, like they do most Saturday mornings and Billy’s got no idea where Max is nor does he care. Pamela is doing her chores, pale blonde hair bouncing whenever she reaches down to grab miscellaneous clutter. Thanks to the motion, he also notices she’s not wearing a bra; breasts swaying under her thin cotton shirt. God, her legs are long, he thinks as he skates his eyes up and down them.

Billy’s aware he’s staring. Part of him thinks Pamela wants him to. He shovels another spoonful of cereal in his mouth before dropping the bowl in the sink for Pamela to clean. It’s her chore after all.

He’s got his own chores. Lists them off in his head; fix the leaky faucet in the bathroom, organize the garage, mow the lawn, wack all the weeds and take out the garbage. They can wait, he decides as he keeps his place in the kitchen and watches as his step sister continues on with her chores. Chews on his lip as she uses the scrunchie on her wrist to tie her hair up in a bun. She starts by cleaning off the counters, putting everything back in its place before she takes her place at the sink. A smirk spreads across his lips and he crowds behind her, places his hands on the counter to cage her in.

Pamela tilts her head, doesn’t look at him but exposes her neck like she’s expecting something. Billy takes these movements slow and calculated. He doesn’t want to scare her off, but then again, he’s sure Pamela is playing the same game he is. He laughs, soft as he towers over her. His breath fans over her neck and Pamela’s skin pricks with goosebumps as she wets the sponge. Squirts dish liquid on it before she finally speaks up, “Can I help you?”

Billy purses his lips, closes the gap between Pamela’s ass and his crotch as he tells her, “Just making sure you’re doing a good job is all.”

She snorts but continues cleaning the dishes and maybe Billy’s imagining it but he thinks he feels her push her ass back against him. So he grabs her waist, holds her steady and presses his lips against her exposed neck. It’s not a kiss. Just to feel her warm skin. Rolls his hips slow, testing before moving his hands to feel up her sides. Swooping forward and cupping her breasts in his palms.

He kneads them in his hands, shamelessly rolling his hips and Pamela elicits the prettiest little sound. A moan if Billy’s not mistaken and it makes him greedy. Slams his hips forward, grinding against her ass in those tiny shorts while he gropes at her tits. Pamela drops the silverware and sponge, gripping onto the edge of the counter as she pants.

“See what you’re doing to me?” Billy asks against her ear, rocking his hips forward again. Making sure she can feel the way his cocks hard in his basketball shorts. “Walking around in that shit… dressed like a fucking slut,” he pants, “Tryna get my attention, huh?”

“Billy,” she gasps, a whine of a thing.

He pulls her top up, just enough to expose her tits and gets his hands back on them. Pinches her nipples, rutting against her like the pathetic little perv he is.

“Billy.. we— ah, we can’t,” he babbles out, but she’s still grinding back against him.

“We can’t what?” he grunts out, nose bushing against her temple.

“Do this,” Pamela replies, hands moving to reach for his wrists. “It’s wrong.”

Billy knows it’s wrong. That’s part of why he can’t stop thinking about her like this.

But she’s right. This was probably far enough. He pulls away, looks down at her as she turns. Her pretty face all flushed. And he acts kind of like a child, stomping away to his room and slamming his door. Just to lean against it and shove his shorts down, get his cock out and wrap his hand around it.

“Fuck,” he whines, closing his eyes and imagines his step sister on her knees in front of him. “Oh, you slut,” he whispers, lips twisting up as he plays out this fantasy. Fucks his fist hard and fast, cumming with her name on his lips.

[roosterforme]

Adult Education Part 9 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jessica visits Beta Brewing and meets one of Bradley Bradshaw's former fraternity brothers. He's flirtatious, and she's surprised by it. But nothing surprises her as much as the way Jake can be so sweet and sexy at the same time. But she doesn't know he's only ever been like this for her.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, swearing, 18+

Length: 6600 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

Bradley Bradshaw helped Jessica climb up into the backseat of the idling vintage Ford Bronco with her notebook, a pen and her overnight bag. He somehow looked even more handsome in jeans and a tie dyed shirt with a backwards cap than he did in his uniform. "I can't thank you enough for doing this," she said as he released her hand and smiled. 

"It's nothing," he replied casually with a shrug of his broad shoulders before closing the door. But it was definitely something to Jessica. It had been a very long time since she had friends. She watched as he climbed back into the driver's seat and leaned over to accept a kiss from his wife. His handsome cheeks flushed a little bit as he cleared his throat and asked, "Ready to hit the road?"

"Yes," Jessica said as she buckled in for the half hour drive up to Beta Brewing. Advanced Calculus was turned around in the front seat, handing her a snack box filled with mixed berries and artisan cheeses. 

"Bradley packed these for us," she said with a grin as she held up a second one. Sure enough he was blushing a little more now.

"Thank you," Jessica gushed, biting into a ripe raspberry and thinking about what Jake might be cooking for dinner later tonight. She'd never eaten this well in her entire adult life.

"It's nothing," Bradley said again as he turned onto the highway. "So how much beer do you think you'll need for this fundraiser?"

"At least two kegs?" Jessica said as she ate some of the cheese that was practically melting on her tongue. "More than that will kill my thousand dollar budget."

"I think you're better off with three," Advanced Calculus said. "I know you don't have a final headcount yet, but with the way Bradley and Jake drink, you'll run out with just two."

Bradley laughed. "You really think Jake and I could drink an entire keg of beer ourselves?"

"The two of you drank the equivalent of a keg of champagne on New Year's Eve," his wife replied easily as she fed him a berry.

"Ah yes," he rasped, "the inception of Dr. Tits." Jessica laughed as Advanced Calculus smacked his shoulder. Bradley looked in the rearview mirror and asked, "You know about Dr. Tits?"

"Yes," Jessica replied, recalling the story of drunk Jake and the low cut dress. Of course Advanced Calculus had been a good sport about it. 

"And you still want to date Jake Seresin? He's a goddamn menace."

"He's actually much less annoying since he met Jessica," he wife remarked. 

"Shit. You're right," Bradley mumbled. "Okay, you actually have to date him. You're never allowed to break up with him either."

After that, Jessica got some inside scoop and funny stories about her boyfriend. Apparently he tried to sleep behind the bar at their Navy hangout on his birthday last year. And at Starbucks, he likes to give Hungman as his name just to see if the baristas will say it, but at least he leaves them a nice tip for their troubles. And neither Bradley nor his wife could ever remember Jake having a girlfriend since he graduated from the Naval Academy. 

"Here we are," Bradley said as he pulled into a parking lot right next to a beautiful cliffside beach. Beta Brewing was written in huge graffiti lettering on the side of an industrial building. Bradley wrapped his arm around his wife and headed toward a door off to the side with a sign that said Tap Room.

Jessica followed behind them and asked, "What was your friend's name again?" She was suddenly very nervous that she was going to sound like an idiot asking for a deal on this guy's designer beer.

"Dev Borah," Bradley said, pulling the door open for the two women to go first.

"He's nice," his wife promised. "You'll like him."

Jessica took a few steps into the bar area that smelled delicious and was decorated like a tasteful fraternity house. "We open at noon!" boomed a voice from the long bartop. "Sorry!"

Bradley chuckled and said, "That's bullshit. You can't turn away a Beta Gamma brother."

"Oh shit!" the other man with dark hair and a big, beaming smile said as he looked up and slammed his palm down on the countertop. "Bradshaw! I completely forgot you were coming up today."

Jessica watched as Dev popped up from behind the bar and gave Bradley some weird, elaborate handshake before they both started laughing. "It's good to see you man. Been a few months," Dev said, eyeing up Brashaw's wife. "And it's honestly rude of you to try to keep this one away from me." 

"Hi, Dev," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"I still can't believe the two of you got married. That's fucking wild," Dev replied before focusing his attention on Jessica. A crooked smile appeared on his lips, the kind that let her know he would have been quite a handful when he was in college. "And you're Jessica?" he asked, reaching out to shake hands with her. "Damn. I've gotta get down to San Diego more often." 

She laughed and shook his hand. Maybe she didn't have anything to be nervous about after all. This man seemed like a goof as he took the three of them on a tour of the brewery and back into the areas he assured her were top secret.

He also seemed to understand the entire process involved here. He answered all of their questions about brewing beer and the business end of things. "We're shipping as far as Pennsylvania now," he said when Jessica asked about distribution. "Making it hard for me to crunch all the numbers myself, but I'm really particular about who I let in on the details." When he stopped in front of an industrial looking door, he punched a code into the keypad and said, "Let's dip into my personal stash."

The room was his office, and it was massive with floor to ceiling windows and a view of the cliffs and the beach. Jessica watched him open a stainless steel refrigerator and select a few bottles and cans from his collection and line them up on his glossy desk. "This is incredible," she remarked, looking out the window while Bradshaw gazed longingly into his wife's eyes and said something about only drinking the good beers. "Your whole setup is incredible."

"Thanks," Dev said as he opened a bottle of beer called Greek Week and handed it to her. "Started the whole thing myself about seven years ago."

The beer was absolutely delicious, and Jessica wondered if she could buy a six pack or something to take to Jake's place. "I like this beer. Can I get it in a keg? For that event I believe Bradley mentioned to you?"

Dev smiled and said, "We don't keg this one. It's a limited release of 500 bottles."

She almost choked on it. "500 bottles and you're letting me have one? Are you insane?"

His laughter was contagious, because soon she was laughing too. "You can have one. His wife can too, if she wants. But Bradshaw gets one of the regular beers. That's what he gets for never helping me with my homework. That asshole graduated top of our fraternity."

"Yeah, I absolutely did," Bradley said, winking at his wife as Dev handed him a different beer. "Sugar made sure I spent plenty of time in the library. Studying." His wife looked a little bashful, but she accepted her own bottle of the limited release Greek Week beer and sipped it.

"If you want kegs," Dev said, "we can walk through the warehouse so you can see what's available. I have a few brews that were aged in barrels and a few others as well right now. You can try some samples in the tap room and take whichever kegs you want."

Jessica nodded and finished her beer. "Sounds great. I'll probably need three kegs, but I have a very limited budget, so two might have to work."

Dev just waved her off. "We'll talk about it down there." He led the way through a labyrinth of hallways and down an elevator to the warehouse. "Careful," he told Jessica with a wink as he held a door open for her. "Usually I don't let anyone in here with high heels, but I don't think I could tell you no to anything you wanted to do."

Jessica looked down at her jeans and heels and then back up at him. "I'll be extra careful."

"Let me know if you need to hold my hand," he said with that same grin before leading the way toward rows and rows of kegs where a handful of employees were working. "Point out the three you want unless you want to taste them first."

"I've tried all of them," Bradley told Jessica. "There's no such thing as a bad beer made at Beta. They are all good."

She didn't want to cause any extra work for anyone. She just wanted the event to be successful which meant staying under budget. "Can I just take three of your least expensive ones?"

"Is that really your deciding factor?" Dev asked, waving someone with a cart on wheels over. 

"Yeah," she replied with a wince. "I'm sure they're all great! The Greek Week was amazing! But I need this fundraiser to be as successful as possible, and the finances are tight."

Jessica wondered if she could come back up with Jake and his truck one day to pick them up, but Dev asked, "Can you fit three of them in your Bronco, Bradshaw?"

"Yep," Bradley replied, his arm draped casually around his wife's shoulders. 

"Okay then," Dev said to the man with the cart. "Load one keg of Gamma Rays, one of East Coast Girls, and one of Nerd Core into the fancy blue thing parked outside."

Jessica's math brain was swirling. "How much do I owe you?"

Dev shrugged. "They retail for three hundred apiece, but you can have them at cost."

"Well, how much is that?" She was starting to panic now. 

Dev was laughing again. "I'm not going to charge you a penny for the kegs. It's on me."

Bradley laughed, too. "That's just bad business, man. Didn't you study accounting?"

"Nah, I studied girls," Dev replied, smirking at Jessica as she blushed. "Come on, I'll send you home with some bottles."

Once they were in the tap room, Jessica insisted on paying for two six packs of beer while Bradley and his wife picked some out of the coolers as well. "I can't thank you enough," Jessica told Dev as he ran her credit card. "This whole thing is just really important to me getting tenure at my school, and... just, thank you."

"Don't mention it," he said as he handed the card back to her. "Bradshaw can make up for it in manual labor when I do my next brewery expansion."

Jessica looked to her left to where Bradley was setting down the beers he wanted to buy. "N-No," she stammered. "I wouldn't want anyone to have to do that!"

"I'm kidding," Dev promised as he took Bradley's credit card. 

"You could come to the fraternity event!" Jessica blurted out. "And I could definitely promote your brand, too."

Dev tossed the card back to Bradley and shooed him away with his hand. Jessica thought she heard Bradley laughing behind her as Dev leaned a little closer, his perfect smile back on his face. "Just to clarify, are you asking me on a date?"

Her jaw dropped open. Would it have been that easy for her to get a date with him? She was shocked. He owned a brewery worth millions of dollars. "Oh. No. I have a boyfriend."

Dev shook his head. "Not surprising in the least. Email me the details for your event. I'd love to come, even if it's just an excuse to see you smile again."

"Okay," she said softly, taking both six packs in her hands. "And thanks again."

Jessica stumbled outside into the sunlight where Bradley and his wife were practically making out next to the Bronco which was filled with three kegs of beer. Even when she approached them, he didn't bother to remove his hands from her butt, but Jessica supposed that was a good sign that they considered her a friend as well. 

"So? You ditching Jake for Dev?" Bradley asked, laughter in his voice. 

"No!" Jessica replied. "But I can't believe he gave me the kegs for free. Really, it's thanks to you."

"Don't worry about it," Bradley replied, opening the door for her before walking around to the passenger side for his wife. "Dev's loaded, and he's nice anyway. So if you ever do decide to ditch Jake, you have options."

--------------------------

The Longhorns game was on, dinner was ready to go into the oven, and Jessica just texted that she was on her way. Jake was lounging on the couch, ready to spend the rest of the day and all night convincing her that she should show him her pretty green underwear and let him take it off of her. 

He bought a new box of condoms, just in case. He felt a little weird digging into an open box for her, so he just tossed the last few he had, deciding to start fresh. In a lot of ways, that's what he was doing. Starting fresh. 

Everything around him was spotlessly clean. There were new sheets on his bed. He had Sam Adams seasonal beers in the fridge. He had his couch ready for snuggling. He just needed her. 

When she knocked, he rocketed off the couch, fixing his hair on the way to his door. "Hi-" The words died in his throat and he grimaced as he was met with Bradley Bradshaw, but at least he was holding some beers. "Rooster."

"Hangman," came the response with a smirk. When he pushed his way inside, Jake saw his wife was behind him, and then he finally saw Jessica. 

"Jake," she sighed breathlessly, and he collected her up in his arms. He kicked the door closed as she kissed him, but he was wondering why there were four people in his condo instead of two when all he really wanted to do was take Jessica to bed.

"Hey, Baby. How was the brewery?"

Bradshaw was laughing as he made his way to the kitchen. "You can kiss your girlfriend goodbye. Dev Borah wants her. He just texted me asking how serious Jessica is with her boyfriend."

"Who?" Jake asked, wrapping his arms a little tighter around Jessica.

"The beer guy. His fraternity brother," she replied, kissing him softly. "Bradley's just kidding."

"He's not kidding," Bradshaw's wife said as she picked up one of the journals on the coffee table. "Dev really texted him."

Jake didn't think he actually had any cause for concern as Jessica wiggled her bag down her arm and let it drop to the floor so she could snuggle against his chest. "Why don't you text him back and tell him to fuck off," Jake told Bradley who was now rooting around in his refrigerator. 

"What are you making for dinner?" he mumbled. "Bruschetta chicken? Sugar loves it when I make that for her."

"Bruschetta chicken?" his wife replied, also hustling into Jake's kitchen.

"Fuck," Jake whispered, "they're never gonna leave."

"Sorry," Jessica mumbled. "Bradley insisted on carrying the beers I bought up here for me. I got you a bottle of this one called Greek Week which Dev told me is a limited release, and I think you'll really like it."

Jake kissed her lips softly and asked, "What's it going to take for you to forget this Dev guy all together?"

She blushed for him and glanced toward the kitchen before she said, "I didn't wear my pretty green things for Dev. I wore them for you."

A smirk instantly appeared on Jake's face. Images of Jessica's bare pussy rubbing on his khaki uniform pants while she whined for him filled his mind. He would just have to make sure he was very good for her every single time, because there was no way he was giving her up now. 

"Can we stay for dinner?" Rooster asked from the kitchen. "I want to compare recipes." 

"No," Jake drawled as Jessica's lips found his neck in the briefest of kisses. "I'm going to say this as nicely as I can: Get the fuck out. Please."

"So rude," Bradshaw's wife replied, but she was smiling. Jake watched her lean in and whisper something to her husband. 

His eyes went wide immediately, and he was nodding as his tongue darted out to lick his lips. "Yeah, I can do that for you, Sugar," he said softly, but Jake still heard him. Then Bradshaw cleared his throat and said, "See you on Monday, Hangman. Bye, Jess." He dragged his wife behind him as he made a beeline for the door, and she waved as she laughed.

And then they were gone, and Jake was just thankful it wasn't awkward at all when Jessica whispered, "I was afraid they weren't going to leave," as she ran her fingers up underneath his Longhorns shirt. 

"He would have stayed, but she's a good wingwoman," Jake replied, kissing her temple, his lips meeting the cool plastic of her glasses. "And I just want to spend time alone with you. You want to sit on the couch? Have a few beers?"

The Longhorns game was on mute, but he'd lost interest in it anyway as Jessica carefully stepped out of her high heels. Now she really had to look up at him as she started to unbutton her blouse, and Jake's hands were on her denim covered hips immediately as he felt his cock twitch in delight. He was shocked and about to suggest taking things to his bedroom when he lost the ability to speak. She shrugged out of her blouse and draped it on the arm of the couch leaving her in a sheer, white camisole and her green bra. 

"Sure," Jessica replied casually like she wasn't nearly stripped bare from the waist up for him. "I'd love a beer. Want to try that one called Greek Week?"

"Yep," he grunted in response as she pushed against his abs until he was sitting on the couch. 

"We can share it," she whispered as she walked into his kitchen like she belonged there. Even from behind, Jake was entranced. The white fabric looked soft and stretchy, and he wanted to know for sure. He also wanted to see her without that silly little shirt on at all. "Fuck."

He watched her open the bottle and take a sip before heading back his way. When he patted the spot on the couch next to him, she settled in with her legs folded up and her knee resting on his thigh. He was plainly hard in his briefs and gray sweatpants as she leaned on him. He had a great view of her tits down her nearly nonexistent top as they were pressed together now. 

"You want some?" she asked, looking up at him and adjusting her glasses. He wanted everything. It was actually fucking crazy how he reacted to this woman.

He leaned in and kissed her. "I want some of you, but I guess I'll try the beer as well." Then he took a sip, and it was good, which kind of pissed him off. He didn't know anything about this Dev guy, other than the fact that he was in Bradshaw's fraternity back in college in Virginia, but now he was imagining him flirting with his girlfriend. 

When he handed the bottle back to her, she took another sip before setting it on the coffee table. Then she settled back against him, her hand grazing his cock through his sweatpants. She gasped. "Are you comfortable?" she whispered as he ran his fingers up her bare arm. 

"Not really," he murmured, watching her head tip to the side in pleasure. He ran his lips along her soft shoulder. "You're teasing me right now."

"I'm not doing anything," she moaned. "Jake."

But he was too busy sucking gently on her pulse point below her ear while he worked his fingers underneath that pretty, green bra strap. She was half sitting on his lap now, reaching back with her hand to brush his cock again, this time intentionally. 

Her breath was a soft whimper as she asked, "Don't you want to watch the Longhorns?"

Jake pulled his lips away from her and paused with his right hand on her hip and his left fingers dipping down inside the front of her bra. He watched her trace the head of his cock through too many layers of fabric with the tips of her pink painted nails. 

"If you want to play games here, Jessica, I'm afraid you might lose, Baby."

That one sentence was enough to have her spinning around to face him,  straddling him and sitting back on his thighs. "You didn't answer my question," she whispered, looking at him like she meant business in her decadent little outfit. She ran her hands down the front of her body to the button of her jeans and asked, "Do you want to watch the Longhorns?"

His fingers flexed on her hips, and he leaned back against the couch, eyes fixed on her as she unzipped her jeans and let him see some of that green lace thong. She wiggled herself against him and reached for his left hand, guiding it inside her jeans. And if he thought her shoulder was soft, then the skin above her panties was heavenly. He was aching as he stroked her, watching her chew on her lip as her glasses slid down her nose a bit. 

Then she reached for the bottom of that white camisole and pulled his clean off over her head, tossing it toward her previously discarded blouse. Jake groaned at the sight of her pink nipples pressing against green lace. And there was a tiny green, satin bow right there between her tits on her bra. He couldn't decide if he wanted to chew it off or rub his nose on it, so instead he leaned forward and kissed it before pressing his lips to the swell of her right breast. 

She smelled like expensive perfume and she tasted like a dream. Her fingers were soft in his hair as he continued to toy with her panties, but he brought his other hand up along her ribcage to join his lips on her tits.

"Jake," she said firmly in what he could only imagine was her stern teaching voice. "Do you want to watch the Longhorns?"

He pulled his mouth away from her tits and reached up along her back to her bra clasp. He suddenly pulled her closer, making her gasp as she sat with her jeans pressed to his hardness and her hands on his shoulders. Then he looked her in the eye. "Jessica, the only thing I want to watch right now is your pretty pussy taking my cock."

Jake smirked as her mouth fell open, and she stared at him. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths as he licked her lips and undid one of the hooks of her bra. "And maybe the way your gorgeous tits bounce for me," he added with a smirk.

A moaning, whimpering mess. That's what was sitting on his lap right now. He watched her reach back and guide his hands so he was undoing the second hook closure on her bra. Then she pulled her hair to the side and let him guide the green lace away from her body. The way the straps slid down her arms was making him throb, and he kissed the soft skin in their wake. Then her breasts were free of the fabric, and she was looking at him expectantly as she chewed on her lip and stifled a moan.

"Baby," he gasped, throat suddenly dry as he let her bra fall to her lap and took her in his hands. She rolled her hips forward as he moulded his hands to the perfection of her tits and buried his face between them. Two flawless handfuls. And they were real. He could hardly remember the last time he'd been treated to something this exciting. 

He had his mouth everywhere on her, sucking one nipple and then the other between his lips. Licking long stripes from beneath each breast up to her collarbone and back down again. He squeezed and caressed and nuzzled until she started to shake, his name starting to sound desperate on her lips. "Jake," she moaned like a wounded animal, shoving his hands inside her open jeans and grinding. 

But he reminded himself that a horny quickie was not right for the first time. Second, third and fourth? Yeah, absolutely. But not right now. "Will you let me take you to bed?"

"Yes!" she practically shouted, fingers digging into his shoulders. He stood up, Jessica clinging to the front of him, and carried her to his bedroom with his hands on her ass. Her lips were on his neck, and he could hear the needy sounds she made as her nose pressed to his ear. 

There was soft afternoon sunlight filtering in through Jake's bedroom windows, and everything looked dreamy as he set Jessica down on the floor at the foot of his bed. A bashful smile ghosted across her lips as she reached for the bottom of his Longhorns shirt and guided it up his torso and over his head. "Oh," she gasped, and Jake nearly purred as she ran her fingers through his chest hair. "Ohh." Then her hands trailed down to his sweatpants, and it was over. 

"Jessica," he growled when she reached inside and yanked them down his hips. He was so hard in his black briefs, he had to beg her to be gentle as she pulled them down as well. Then she was stroking him with her small hands, giving him a few experimental pumps. 

He had to squeeze his eyes shut and take a deep breath when she whispered, "That's enough teasing, don't you think?"

"Get on the bed."

With a soft squeak, she did as she was told, scrambling onto her back so her tits shook invitingly. But he needed to focus here. He needed to be good. Great. Spectacular. This was his girl, not just some girl. His cock was bouncing as he watched her pull her jeans down over her soft hips and thighs, leaving her in just that sinful green thong.

He crawled on top of her, propping himself up on his elbows, and he let his cock rest on her thigh as he kissed her lips. "You're so fucking beautiful, Jessica."

Her fingers were back in his chest hair before she looped them around his neck. "So are you."

He hummed against her lips. "I bought condoms this morning. Give me a minute to get them?"

But she shook her head. "I don't want to use a condom with you."

The noise he made was actually perverted, and he thought his eyes were going to roll into the back of his head when she pressed her pussy up against him. "You want me to skip the condom?" he ground out, his hand cupping her breast. He stroked her nipple as she whined the word yes over and over again. 

"Please," she gasped. "I'm clean. I got tested last year. I haven't had sex in a year."

"Oh my god." She hadn't had sex in a year. How was that even fucking possible? Pretty face, perfect body, smart as hell, and she wasn't even getting fucked? "Jessica, are you on birth control?"

"Yes. Are you clean?" she asked, and Jake just kind of froze there. He had never skipped a condom before. Even at his drunkest. Even in the bathroom at the bar. Even in the bed of his truck on the Fourth of July. He had used a condom every single time he'd ever had sex since he was sixteen years old and lost his virginity. And right now he was afraid he was going to cum after two seconds inside her without one on. And if this perfect woman went a year without sex, she deserved to have him last an hour. 

"I'm clean," he confirmed, and she pulled him down for a kiss.

"Then what are you waiting for?" she whispered before swiping her tongue into his mouth. 

---------------------------

Jessica was so turned on, it felt like her skin was on fire. She was making this pitiful noise at the back of her throat, and she couldn't seem to stop no matter what she did. She was already thrusting up, rubbing herself on Jake like a needy cat, back arching off his bed. If he didn't fuck her soon, she was afraid she might start crying. 

But right now he was just kissing her forehead and cheeks and looking at her while his golden chest hair teased her breasts. His cock was heavy on her thigh, and she needed it inside her. It was an absolute necessity right now. The fact that she could go from completely normal all morning at Beta Brewing to a filthy mess for him right now was startling. 

"Baby," he whispered, shaking his head. "Jessica."

Then he let one hand trail down her body and slip inside her underwear, and as soon as he touched her clit she sighed in relief. His fingers were sure and steady as she stroked the back of his neck with both hands, scraping along through his hair with her nails. 

"Jake," she gasped, and he kissed her lips as he fucked her with one long finger. But even when he added a second, she already knew it wouldn't compare to his thick cock. She was aching for it. He was going to make her beg for it, she needed it that badly. It had been a year since she had sex with Brian in his office, and he was nowhere near as big as Jake. This anticipation was almost too much now.

The swirl of his thumb on her clit was delicious though, and Jake trailed his kisses down her neck to her chest. He pulled her nipple gently between his teeth before sucking. Her back arched off the bed again as she rode his fingers. "Oh god," she moaned. "Jake." 

Okay, okay. He seemed to know just what to do with his mouth and hands to make her wild. Just the right amount of pressure. Just the right speed on her clit, too. All she needed was for him to fuck her. 

"Please?" she asked softly. Then she reached for her glasses. Maybe that was the problem. They always seemed to be in the way for activities like this, so she took them off. 

That seemed to draw him out of his daze as he released her breast and gasped, "What are you doing, Baby?" His face was blurry to her now, but he still looked handsome.

She ran her foot along his bare leg up to his hip and brushed his cock. "I want you," she whispered, hips jerking as he continued to work her clit. "Thought maybe you'd want me to lose the glasses?"

"Back on," he instructed sternly, so she slid them back on her face. Then he kissed her lips again as he drew his soaking fingers out of her pussy and used them on her clit in place of his thumb.

When she ran her fingers along his face, he moaned into her mouth. "Jake, please," she whispered, breaking the kiss and shaking her head from side to side. "I need it."

He groaned and laughed softly, and she was searching his face. "I want to make you feel so good, but you do a number on me Reedy. I'm a little concerned I'm gonna come immediately."

"You are?" she whimpered. 

He nodded and kissed her softly. "Yeah." She watched him pull away from her to gently ease her thong away from her pussy and down her legs. He held the green fabric to his nose and grunted, keeping it in his right hand as he took his time to press kisses along her thigh before kissing her pussy. She bucked against his face, already clenching as he kissed her again and again. Then he brought his hand down to his cock and pumped a few times before lining himself up with her and pressing the tip inside.

Then his face was hovering over hers again as he planted his hands near her head. His kisses were a little desperate, but so was she. Then he started to move, and it was everything she needed. "Jessica," he hissed, his face contorting in pleasure as he filled her all the way, stretching her out. 

And if he was the one who was afraid of coming right away, he had nothing to worry about. She was whimpering, she felt so full. He was thick, and the stretch was so good, it was almost painful when he started to thrust. She laced her fingers through his silky hair, pulling him closer so he could feel her lips quivering.

"You're so big," she moaned, and he absolutely devoured her mouth just the way she wanted him to. Her fingers tightened in his hair as he rocked into her, and when he brought his fingers back to her clit, she was already fluttering. 

She slowed him down just a little bit with the roll of her hips, and then it was perfect. He actually felt perfect to her. Whispering her name against her neck and moving his fingers just right as he kept her full. When he gasped, "Baby," she clenched around him, and it brought on a tidal wave. 

"Oh," she moaned, digging her fingers into his neck as she rolled her hips and started to come. She was whining for him as he sucked on her collarbone, and she just kept getting louder. Her voice was strained to her own ears. There was a crescendo of her gasping his name, and then she was just panting softly and shivering beneath him, her hands limp by her sides on the bed as her pussy continued to clench.

Jake met her gaze, still fucking her as he combed his fingers back through her hair. Then he smiled, as she bit her lip and whimpered his name. "You feel good?" he asked. 

"So good," she whispered. Jake adjusted her glasses and kissed her before tucking his hands underneath her and lifting her up. He flipped them so he was on his back and she was straddling him, and she had to brace her hands on his chest. 

She combed her fingers through his chest hair again, and now she was the one leaning down to kiss him. She felt powerful now that she got her pleasure and felt sated. She was ready to give him what he wanted. "Do you feel good?" she asked, turning his question back around on him. 

Jake responded by propping himself up with one hand and wrapping his other arm around her waist. "Incredible."

As she leaned back a little bit, she kept her hands braced on his shoulders, and sure enough, his gaze drifted down to watch as she slowly slid herself up and down along his cock. God, he was thick, and she could tell she was really gripping him. "You wanted to watch me take your cock, didn't you?"

Sweat was breaking out on his forehead, and he swallowed hard. "Jesus Christ, you're gonna be a fucking handful." Then he thrust his hips up, ramming himself deeper, and she shrieked in delight at the stretch. 

"Do it again!"

So he did. And again after that. And again. His head was tipped back now as the tempo increased, and she pressed him flat on his back again as she rode him. He seemed so much more confident now too as he brought his hands and mouth up to her breasts. His white teeth looked so pretty as he ran them against her peaked nipples, and she fucked him a little faster. But his trimmed pubic hair was rubbing her clit at this angle, and the faster she went, she realized she was getting close. Again.

"Fucking gorgeous," Jake muttered, switching from her left nipple to her right and sucking. And then she bucked her hips, and he looked up at her as she parted her lips and tried to speak. But she just made another embarrassing noise, and her hair fell in front of her glasses as she sank all the way down around him.

But this time she took him with her, his fingers tangled up in her hair as he grunted, "Jessica." Pleasure rippled through her, not as intense as the first time, but it was still incredible, and she eased herself down to rest against his chest as his hips slowed as well.

Jake carefully ran his fingers through her hair until she could see his face again. "There you are," he whispered, coaxing her a little closer for a kiss. His cheeks were flushed, and he looked like he was as affected by everything as much as she was. His movements were languid and unhurried, and the smile on his face was dreamy and genuine. Had she ever been with a man who looked at her like this after he unloaded inside her? He wasn't even making any move to get up yet.

"I really like you," she blurted out, immediately embarrassed. 

"Yeah, well, I just made you come, so..." he said with a little shrug as he ran his thumb along her lips.

"It's not that," she said, letting him trace her lips before she continued. She looked down at his neck as she whispered, "You seem excited by me."

"I am," he confirmed as she started to sit up. "Where you going?"

She wiggled her hips and let his softening cock slide out of her. "Just going to get cleaned up."

Jake's left hand shot out to hold her in place as she straddled him. He was propped up on one elbow, staring at her pussy as she felt his cum dripping along her thighs. "Oh my god," he growled. When she looked down, she watched his cum drop onto his abs, and she could feel herself blushing. 

"You're looking at me like you've never enjoyed a creampie before."

He sat up so she was straddling his thighs and making an even bigger mess. "I haven't. I've always worn protection in the past."

She was shocked as she let her arms slide around his neck. "Always?"

Jake kissed her as her forehead came to rest against his. "Yeah," he whispered sheepishly. Maybe that's why he seemed to get a little nervous for a minute there. But Jessica was so incredibly turned on right now by this information, she was about to ask him if he could go again yet. But he was holding her so sweetly now, just cradling her against his bigger body and kissing her like there was nowhere he'd rather be. "Okay, Smart Girl. Let's clean up, and then I have something I want to show you."

"What is it?" she asked as he stood with her in his arms. 

He ran his nose along her jaw and kissed her. "Oh, you'll love it, Baby. It's a spec sheet on the new Super Hornet outfitting."

She gasped. "Jake. Really?" This had to be the most romantic thing anyone had ever done for her.

He chuckled softly as he took her into his bathroom. "It's an archive copy, so a few things have been redacted, but I have it all memorized so you can work out the math as many times as you want."

"You're a dream," she whispered against his lips. 

--------------------------

Nice to see Dev again! It's been a while! Nervous Jake, I love you. He almost fumbled things for a minute there with his woman. Are we taking bets on round two later in the weekend? Think he can keep it together? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 10

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[mangowillow]

last to know | ch. 2: as always, even now

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader / kim woosung x (f) reader

summary: you and jeongguk got together at 16 years old, married at 20, and divorced at 21. what was once love ever after turned into nothing but pain and unfulfilled dreams. you keep going despite the pain in your heart that never really went away, until one day, jungkook comes back— to seoul and in your life.

general story tags: divorce au, childhood friends, angst, hurt & eventual comfort, kind of a slow burn, OC is an adopted child in this fic, a lot of flashbacks later on because context is important; and the others that a lot of people seem to dislike: a love triangle and a LOT of miscommunication. look away if this isn't your thing. tags and warnings will be updated as we go along with each chapter!

warnings: mentions of weight loss and a hospital, jeongguk has a panic attack (semi-detailed), problematic parent-child dynamics. let me know if i miss anything and please be kind!

word count: 5.3k

author's note: *peeks into the void* why hello there! let's pretend i didn't disappear off the face of the earth. earlier this year i went to see The Rose live for their dawn to dusk tour and it was so much fun! there's just a lot of things that have happened and continue to do so; please accept my sincerest apologies for being inconsistent! BUT. know that i haven't forgotten about this story. heh.

also a few more things: ♡ to put things into perspective: jeongguk, OC/reader, and woosung are all the same age; that also means they're as old as seokjin and yoongi in this fic. all the other members maintain their age. honorifics may or may not appear at times. if that bothers you, well, can't please everybody! ♡ this fic isn't beta'd nor proofread by anyone. we go rogue, always.

tags for interested readers will be open for as long as this fic is ongoing! let me know in the comments or message me, whatever fits your preference!

fic masterlist

Woosung plants a big, sloppy kiss on your cheek and giggles.

Looking at him, you ask, “What was that for?”

“Do I need a reason?” Woosung teases as he chews on his jjajangmyeon. You chuckle at his candidness and reach out to wipe the sauce that landed on the corner of his lip. The both of you resorted to sitting on the floor, surrounded by boxes, using one of them as a makeshift table to place the food.

“I’m really happy you got to come today,” you muse, enjoying Woosung’s calming presence as he delicately places a piece of chicken karaage on your noodle bowl before setting his own down. You haven’t seen him for a few days because he needed to get some new music done in preparation for his application to a recording agency as a performer and a producer. You were more than happy to support him in any way you could, including giving him his space to figure things out. It was also who Woosung was— a quiet soul who liked working in solitude. 

You and Woosung are so much alike.

“Why? Did you think I’d forget?” Woosung teases, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“No, I just thought… maybe you needed more time to prepare for your application. That’s important.”

Woosung gently shakes his head, ready to disagree— “Nothing will ever be as important to me as you.”

A slight pink dusted your cheeks. You didn’t expect him to be this cheesy so early in the morning so you smile and cast your eyes back down to your meal. 

“... I do have news for you, babe.” Woosung starts. He turns his body to face you. Giving your hundred percent attention, you cut the noodles with your teeth and place the bowl down. Wiping your mouth with a napkin, you hum at his statement, “What is it?”

Woosung smiles and looks at you lovingly. You feel a bit self-conscious every time he stares at you so intensely and like clockwork, you feel your cheeks heat up. 

“I got the job, sweetheart.”

Hearing the news leave his lips leaves you surprised— your hands fly to your mouth and your eyes start to water. “R-really?” Woosung nods and chuckles through his own teary eyes, you throw yourself at him to give him a tight hug. “Woosung, oh my god— this is— “ you hold him by the shoulders, explore every inch of his face, elation in both of your hearts— “this is great, oh gosh I am so happy for you,” you hug him again. 

You feel Woosung’s body relax instantly in your hold; it has been a journey, walking with Woosung through his own painful moments struggling with his art and passion. Two years ago, he came to Seoul desperately needing a break from life and music after many unsuccessful attempts to make it into the music industry back home in the United States. Although he and his bandmates have put out several songs in the past, they never really gained as much traction with an audience as they had hoped. Going back home to his roots in South Korea also meant leaving his bandmates behind— they have been nothing but supportive of him and his time as they also needed to re-assess their own lives and figure out what they truly wanted. 

Two years ago, Woosung also met you. Both your lives changed ever since.

“Thank you for all your support, ____… you know I wouldn’t have been able to get through all this if it weren’t for you.” Woosung whispers, tightening his hold on your waist. You feel this, you feel everything when it comes to him— so you wrap your arms tighter around him, too. “This is all you, babe. This is all your hard work.”

You both stay that way for a while. Unspoken words are left hanging, as well. You both know well what might become of all this as you always try to communicate. You believe it is what has sustained your relationship for so long. 

Both of you know that Woosung will always belong to music— it’s his dream and the reason why he took so many risks along the way. It was only a matter of when. The possibilities have always been there— should there be a moment where Woosung would return to his career, to his band, to becoming a global star. The fears that come along with those possibilities were also ever-present: what you and Woosung’s future would look like. 

All of these thoughts come rushing to the both of you, but neither of you said anything.

For now, the both of you are happy. And that is enough.

When you parted from each other, you pushed away some of the hair that fell over Woosung’s eyes. “When do you start?”

Woosung takes a deep breath, “As soon as the higher-ups get settled in. I’ve been told they’ve recently landed in Seoul so it shouldn’t be too long now. I’ll be meeting with the owners and one of them is the lead producer. I heard he was a genius, but also a bit scary. They’ve also given me a signing bonus and a potential collaboration with him… that was new… he said they liked my work so much…”

“Wow, that… that sounds so exciting, baby. How are you feeling about all of this?”

“I’m nervous, for the most part,” Woosung murmurs, readjusting the collar of his shirt. It’s been a while since I talked to someone else about music professionally and… this company— I’ve heard so many wonderful things about it. For one, it was built by musicians, too. So I’m hoping they’re not just doing all of it for the business.” 

You smile warmly at Woosung and hold his hands. “You’re going to do great, you know that, right?”

Woosung draws in a breath and nods before meeting your eyes. 

That night, Woosung couldn’t sleep. He watches over you as you dream and when a strand of your hair falls on your face after moving a bit, he tucks it behind your ear. His fingers lightly dance while grazing the side of your face. Woosung sighs as a feeling of anxiety starts to creep into his heart. He loves change, but he cannot help but feel somewhat scared about it anyway. He gets so lost in his thoughts about you that he doesn’t notice you wake up.

“Baby, hey… you’re still awake.”

Your voice brings Woosung back to the present. Seeing your sleepy eyes under the sliver of moonlight that passes through your window makes his heart do a mini somersault— it always does.

“Hmm… I couldn’t sleep,” Woosung says. You scoot closer to him, his arm going under your shoulders to support your body in an embrace. 

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” you whisper, eyes closed, inhaling his scent— him. 

“Just… things. I’m not sure how to articulate them yet…”

You hum, “Then I’ll just stay like this with you to keep you warm… warmth helps you sleep, right?”

Woosung nods, bringing your body closer to his. “Hm… especially your warmth.” Seconds later, he feels you breathe deeper, letting him know that you’re about to let yourself succumb to sleep once more. “I love you.”

When no response came from you, Woosung closed his eyes. Then suddenly, in the stillness of the night, he feels your hand squeeze his ever so lightly.

“I love you, too.”

“Hyung, I think that’s the salt—” Jimin starts.

Seokjin snorts, stopping with the shaker in his hand mid-air, “What do you mean, Jimin-ah, I think I know the difference between salt and sugar.” He was about to potentially put salt on the croffle in front of him, leaving Jimin feeling both very nervous and distressed.

“Last time, I remember you put the sugar in a different container because a customer accidentally broke the original shaker. The color of the cap was blue, not red. This—” he pointed at the shaker Seokjin was holding, “— is obviously not blue.”

“Yah, that happened last week, but I already switched them out two days ago—” Seokjin tries to argue.

They didn’t notice Woosung enter the cafe until he spoke, “Why don’t you just taste it?”

“Oh hey, Woosung-hyung,” Jimin greets.

“Hey, Jimin. Good to see you,” Woosung replies as Jimin nods, his eyes turning into crescents as soon as he smiles.

Seokjin scoffs once more before greeting Woosung, but he relents and tastes whatever is inside the shaker. When he makes a funny face, Jimin and Woosung chuckle.

“Told ya, hyung. Tell us I saved your life.”

“I can’t believe this is salt, I knew I already switched it out—”

With possible disaster averted, Jimin doesn’t listen to Seokjin’s monologue anymore, “You’re here early today, hyung. Would you like to order the usual?”

“Actually, I am here to buy a mango parfait… ____’s fridge is crazy cold and the frozen mangoes are, well, too frozen. I might actually break the blender. I also forgot to make her usual overnight oats. We had to move a lot of things very quickly yesterday so she could have a bed to sleep on.”

“I got you, hyung. We just finished making a fresh batch of parfaits. Do you want one, too?” Jimin asks.

“Are there other flavors?”

“Blueberry and strawberry,” Seokjin adds.

“I’ll take one blueberry, then. Thanks.” Woosung gets ready to pay, but Seokjin waves him away. “It’s on the house.”

“You always give us free stuff, Seokjin—” Woosung tries to argue, but Seokjin shakes his head immediately.

“Taking care of my sister is more than enough, Woosung-ah.”

Woosung gives Seokjin a tight smile and nods. Seokjin then asks, albeit softer, “How is she doing lately?”

“She’s doing better,” Woosung reassures. “She has been painting more recently; not just because of her job at the university, but also at home. We’re going to set up her studio today so it should be fun.”

“That’s good to hear, right hyung?” Jimin turns to Seokjin, who nods. Jimin hands Woosung a paper bag with the parfaits. “I put some new desserts we’re experimenting with. Please give them a try.”

Woosung peeks at the paper bag and sees croissants and greenish muffins, presumably matcha-flavored. “Oh wow, thank you Jimin… I won’t take up too much of your time, guys. ____ is still sleeping and I need to clean up the mango disaster I left on her kitchen counter before she wakes up.”

Seokjin chuckles, “You really came all the way here for parfaits when you could have bought these anywhere near ____’s apartment.”

“Ah, but nothing beats your parfaits, Seokjin. A wise man once told me that,” Woosung smiles. He and Seokjin instantly formed a bond the moment they met two years ago, much to your relief. You’ve always been nervous to tell your brother anything remotely new about your love life— and you understand where he is coming from.

“Well whoever that wise man is must be pretty smart,” Seokjin replies. His eyes soften right afterward. “Go. Let’s have a drink sometime, yeah?”

“Sure thing,” Woosung waves goodbye to Seokjin and Jimin.

Jeongguk walks the hallway of the recording studio, still groggy from sleep. Hands in his pockets, he stood outside Yoongi’s door, staring at his peculiar mat: a cat with its middle finger raised, the words ‘fuck off’ glaring at him. Figures, he thought. A doormat won’t stop him from ringing Yoongi’s doorbell, though.

“Who is it?” he hears Yoongi call out.

“It’s your favorite person in the whole wide world,” Jeongguk says, sarcasm lacing his voice. He pinched the bridge of his nose; a habit he developed in college whenever he felt the exhaustion seep out of him. He hears scuffling from the other side of the door until the sound of the door’s automatic lock rings. Jeongguk sees Yoongi clad in a plaid shirt, ripped jeans, and a gray beanie— his signature style. 

“Dumbass,” Yoongi mutters under his breath before turning his back to return to his equipment. “Good morning to you too,” Jeongguk teases as he closes the door behind him. 

“How are you already set up? It’s barely a day since we arrived!”

Yoongi chooses not to respond. 

“You’re kidding me, right?” Jeongguk asks in disbelief. “Please tell me you at least went home to get your shit sorted? Or maybe sleep like normal human beings do?”

“I did… for a brief moment, maybe?” Yoongi starts.

Jeongguk shakes his head, “You have to stop spreading yourself thin, Yoongi. It’ll be the death of you.”

Yoongi fiddles with a few knobs on the synthesizer before muttering, “That doesn’t seem so bad— spreading myself too thin, that is.”

Jeongguk throws his hands up in surrender and rolls his eyes.

“Have I succeeded in frustrating you to hell and back, yet?” Yoongi smirks while continuing to flit his eyes through the numerous screens in front of him.

Jeongguk was about to say something but then the door alarm clicked. Kim Namjoon’s head peeks out from behind the door.

“I came to say my welcome remarks,” Namjoon says as he lets himself in. Jeongguk’s mouth falls open because he couldn’t believe Namjoon could just easily waltz in without any resistance. What’s even more astounding was that he knew Yoongi’s passcode— while he, on the other hand, had to ring the fucking doorbell.

“Oh, great. So your boyfriend knows your passcode and I don’t?” Jeongguk asks.

“He isn’t my boyfriend,” Yoongi states, matter-of-factly. Jeongguk couldn’t help but glance at Namjoon’s way, who seemed unfazed.

“Right, and I’m Neil Armstrong,” Jeongguk plops down on the couch.

“You’re the CEO, Jeongguk, of course, you should know the passcode… right, Yoongi?” says Namjoon, ever the oblivious one. 

Yoongi continues to do work on his computer, his fingers deftly flying across his keyboard, “Don’t encourage him, Namjoon.”

Namjoon looks back at Jeongguk who has now taken an interest in the plant beside the couch. When they met each other’s eyes, Namjoon just shrugged, his dimples showing. 

“How was your flight, you guys? I hope everything was easy peasy.”

“Easy peasy lemon squeezy,” Jeongguk responds. “Not sure about Yoongi here though. He looked like he was about to puke.”

“Shut up,” Yoongi retaliates.

“I can’t imagine the both of you tolerating each other while in another country. It’s a miracle this production company is still standing upright,” Namjoon says chuckling. 

Namjoon met Jeongguk first in university while they studied in New York. Although Jeongguk was a business student and Namjoon double majored in music theory and composition, they ran into each other at a frat party-— with Jeongguk being drunk off his ass. He was about to fall into the pool full of piss (which the other frat members thought was funny) when Namjoon saved him in the nick of time. 

Apart from Yoongi, Namjoon also served as Jeongguk’s confidant, especially after things went south between you and Jeongguk. When the dust settled and Jeongguk was sober enough to realize the gravity of his mistakes, Namjoon helped Yoongi pick up the pieces of Jeongguk’s brokenness. As with time passing by, Namjoon and Yoongi started to develop into something more, too. Much to Jeongguk’s delight and envy.

However, neither Yoongi nor Namjoon has admitted their feelings to the other. And truth be told, Jeongguk is sick of them dancing around each other.

But he also knows it’s none of his business.

“Hey, Jeongguk, is that family dinner of yours still happening tonight?” Yoongi decides to ask. Also probably to change the subject.

Jeongguk lets out a deep sigh. “Yes, it is.”

“Ouch. Will you be alright?” Namjoon asks out of genuine concern.

“I don’t really have a choice.”

“You always have a choice, Jeongguk-ah,” Yoongi inserts. “You just need to work on making the right ones.”

Jeongguk slacks his jaw and runs his tongue across his lip ring. He doesn’t really have an answer to that.

Because once again, Yoongi was right. Not just about the damn family dinner; Jeongguk also knows his best friend’s words run deeper and imply a whole lot more than just feeling forced to sit down with his parents over steak and champagne.

“See you on the other side, then,” Namjoon says as he pats Jeongguk on the shoulder before leaving the room.

Jeongguk mulled over bringing flowers to the family dinner but decided against it.

He knows that the house would be filled with them, anyway. And his efforts won’t matter, either.

As he got out of his car, a chauffeur was already by his side ready to take his keys for him. When the car drove off, Jeongguk took a moment to look at the house he hadn’t lived in for years. It feels odd to come home; it feels even odder to feel numb about all of it.

It took Jeongguk a few seconds to ring the doorbell; for god’s sake, it was his house too, he thought. Ringing the doorbell meant he was a stranger— which he felt was appropriate.

He was greeted by a new housekeeper. He gave her a nod before stepping inside. Almost instantly, his mother appeared at the top of the staircase. They look at one another for a moment, before his mother breaks the silence.

“You finally decide to show yourself.”

Jeongguk doesn’t move. Doesn’t respond, either. He was prepared for a stare-off match with his mother, but that was until his father showed up from the kitchen. With a dish towel in hand, Jeongguk’s father smiled at him as he placed a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“It’s so good to see you, son.”

Jeongguk, once more, doesn’t have it in him to respond.

At the dinner table, the silence was so loud, that Jeongguk thought it could break glass.

“Did you settle in fine, Jeongguk?” his father asks.

“Yes, father, I did.”

“You should have chosen a place that was nearer to us, Jeongguk,” his mother chides.

“Honey…” Jeongguk’s father tries to put out a fire that is about to ignite. Jeongguk, on the other hand, was so tired from the flight and emotionally, that he felt a need to retaliate.

Because why not? Whether he speaks up or not wasn’t really up to him. Between him and his mother, he has nothing to lose.

“I don’t know, mother, I chose that place because I wanted to get away from here as much as possible.” Jeongguk remarks. He knows he hit a nerve because his mother downed her champagne rather than respond.

“How is the company going, son? Everything doing alright?” his father asks, trying to mitigate a conflict that neither of them could recover from.

“I guess. Yoongi and I haven’t managed to burn anything so that’s nice,” Jeongguk eats a spoonful of mashed potato. He knows he really needs to shut up and regulate his emotions, but he just can’t help but be sarcastic.

Once more, the silence won. However, Jeongguk’s mother is the type to not back down.

“You should think about getting married soon, Jeongguk—” she starts. Jeongguk feels himself grow cold as if on instinct. 

“—and this time, we want you to marry someone your level,” she finishes. Jeongguk felt his heart twisting so painfully that he didn’t notice how tight he held on to his cutlery.

Jeongguk swallows the once-repressed pain that used to consume him whole. He knows this is futile because he never dares to face his regrets square in the face. Instead, he allows the pain to make him angry. He allows his resentment to consume him in ways he doesn’t know how to handle and in a pained effort to avoid causing further damage, he remains quiet. Unresponsive. Cold. Withdrawn.

But his own mother is even more cold-hearted than he is. She is the one who made him like this.

It’s her fault.

“You need to marry a good woman who can keep up with your social status. Remember you’re not just anyone, Jeongguk. You’re a Jeon. And you have a legacy to uphold,” his mother condescends. 

Tears start to sting Jeongguk’s eyes, but he doesn’t want to let his mother win. So he keeps still.

“I have a few prospects for you, dear. We should set dates for them, don’t you think so? I chose the most refined and educated—” Jeongguk hates how his mother knows how to push his buttons and hurt him.

He knows that his mother knows his ultimate weakness.

You.

And because his mother cannot contain her insecurities and prejudice, she projects it all on her son. But most especially, you— whether you were in the room or not.

Jeongguk’s mother continues her monologue. His father miserably fails to become the referee (he always does). Heat starts to rise Jeongguk’s neck and he swears he could hear his own blood pumping through his ears. What almost immediately follows is the high-pitched ringing that only he can hear. 

Jeongguk starts to feel dizzy; like he’s about to lose control.

But instead of releasing, instead of crying, instead of getting angry— he does none of them. 

He finds himself standing up, his hands dragging the plate full of food to the ground. With all his might, Jeongguk tries to breathe deeply.

“That’s enough, mom.” Jeongguk croaks. A tear escapes his eye. “Please.”

Jeongguk rarely addresses her as “mom”. But in times of vulnerability and helplessness, it’s the term he ends up using.

“As I expected… you are still weak, Jeongguk.” his mother states with absolutely no remorse.

Jeongguk feels like he is about to throw up. To save himself, he drags his legs to leave the dining area. Housekeepers try to help him, but he brushes them aside. Security guards around the house up until the gate tried to support him, but Jeongguk just waved them all off.

He just needed to get away before his vision completely blurred. He needed to get out of this godforsaken house.

It was a miracle that Jeongguk got far away from the house as he had. But in doing so, he felt physically weaker and weaker. His mind isn’t done with him yet as thoughts of you start to resurface. His chest starts to tighten again. He feels cold and afraid and tired.

Jeongguk falls to his knees on the side of the road; he allows his body to go limp and fall to the ground. 

He barely remembers what happened next.

When Jeongguk opens his eyes, bright, stale lights greet him. 

He hears beeping, faint footsteps, a voice over an intercom.

He feels something brushing his leg so gently that it takes him a while before realizing that someone is standing over him, wiping the edge of his slacks.

Jeongguk squints his eyes to get a better look at the person touching his leg. When he tries to elevate his upper body, the person in front of him feels him moving.

Jeongguk couldn’t believe who he was seeing. His panic attack must still be happening because it was impossible.

It was you.

“Oh… hi,” you start. Jeongguk is at a loss for words so he continues to stare at you.

You immediately feel self-conscious so you start to wrangle the damp cloth you were holding. 

“Are you okay? Hang on, I’ll call the nurse—”

You start to leave, but Jeongguk catches your wrist. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. You look at his hand on your wrist before Jeongguk lets go of it.

“W-what happened?”

“You’re at the hospital… um, I– I got a call from them saying you were here,” you say.

Jeongguk’s eyebrows met. He is still confused as to how or why the hospital would call you. As he looks at you, in the flesh, in front of him, the familiar ache in his chest threatens to overwhelm him again.

You look as beautiful as ever, even more so than the last time he saw you. The last time he did, you were crying to him. He did that to you. That was his fault.

“Are you hurt, anywhere, Jeongguk? I think I need to call your doctor, just give me a second—”

“No… please. I’m okay. I don’t feel any pain.” Except for my broken heart.

“Oh… okay.”

Jeongguk observes you, more particularly your hands. You still have that habit of fiddling with your fingers when you didn’t know what to do, he thinks. 

“H-how did the hospital call you? You didn’t change your number?” Jeongguk is a hundred percent sure his choice of questions was dumb, but he doesn’t have any idea as to why you’re here.

“The hospital told me I was your emergency contact… they uh– they only found your wallet on you and found this,” you explain as you handed him his wallet. Inside was an old piece of paper with your emergency contact number and e-mail address.

“The e-mail address is now defunct, but my number is still the same because I had it reactivated when I came back here…”

When I came back here, Jeongguk repeated to himself. 

Jeongguk wanted to ask you a million questions, but his throat feels dry and he is unable to speak. 

“I um, I also called Yoongi. He should be here any minute,” you continue. When Jeongguk looks at you funny, you give him a small smile— the first one you’ve given him since he woke up. “We talk sometimes.”

There is a lot of information that Jeongguk needs to process but his head hurts a lot and he makes a mental note to interrogate his friend later.

You move to grab and open the plastic bag that is on the bedside table. You pull out a pair of black socks. Jeongguk sees you hesitate a bit before speaking again.

“I got these across the street… your socks got wet from the rain.”

“Oh.” Jeongguk feels really dumb.

“May I?” you tentatively ask. “Your feet will get cold if we don’t—and you have the IV on so you won’t be able to use your hands—”

“It’s okay…” Jeongguk’s response startles you. “Thank you.”

You nod and sit by his feet to put on the new socks. Jeongguk feels the tears again but he tries to hold them back as he feels your touch and your warm fingers graze his bare, cold skin. When you’re done putting them on him, you smile to yourself.

“Does that feel better?” you ask.

Jeongguk nods and hums. He took his time to look at you and to his mild surprise, you reciprocated. A sense of stillness seemed to occur like time stopped just so Jeongguk could fully take in the sight of you.

He hurriedly tries his best to memorize all your features—old and new. Your face is smaller, your cheekbones higher; both indicative of you losing a bit of weight since he saw you last. Your eyes are softer, but also more tired. You also grew out your hair. 

To Jeongguk, you are still so beautiful.

And he missed you so much that his heart hurt again at the thought of losing you.

“How are y—” Jeongguk tries to ask, but the door to his hospital room slid open, revealing a disheveled Yoongi.

“Jeongguk, are you okay? What happened?”

Jeongguk notices you quickly moving aside to give Yoongi room. 

“I’m fine, Yoongi. I guess I just passed out and—”

“You had another panic attack, Jeongguk. That’s the second time this week. Have you taken your medication?”

Yoongi’s string of questions had Jeongguk feeling anxious. He just had the unexpected chance of seeing you again but under the most dire circumstances. Surely, it wasn’t the time for you to hear about his mental health issues.

“Yoongi, can we—” Jeongguk tried to save face, but Yoongi was faster. 

Yoongi turns to you and hugs you. “I’m sorry, ____, you must have been so confused.”

“No, not at all, I’m… I’m glad I could be of help,” you reassure. More so for Jeongguk because you know this must be very awkward for him. 

A bit of awkwardness did happen because none of you spoke for a bit. Your phone ringing was the only saving grace.

“Hello? Oh, okay. I’ll be right out,” you answer the other person on the line. Hanging up, you say, “Um… I should get going.”

“Is someone picking you up?” Yoongi asks.

“Yes, Taehyung’s just a few minutes away,” you answer.

Yoongi nods and pulls you in for another hug. He whispers his thanks and you respond by hugging him tighter.

You also approach Jeongguk a little closer. “Take care of yourself, Jeongguk.” You see the pain in his eyes, but you refuse to acknowledge it to yourself, even if Jeongguk’s eyes were brimming with unshed tears and his nose was already pink.

Jeongguk doesn’t want you to go. But again, he has no choice but to let you.

“You too, ____.”

As soon as you close the door, Jeongguk allows his tears to fall.

As soon as you get into the car, Taehyung asks his questions.

“Why the hell did you just come out of a hospital?���

“Tae—”

“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? You’re the only one there? What happened?” You can feel the panic rising in Taehyung as he inspects you, but you just chuckle.

“Yah—you laugh?”

“I’m fine, Taehyung,” you tell him but he doesn’t look convinced. “I really am.”

“Then why were you in there?”

“I saw Jeongguk again, Tae,” you calmly respond.

Taehyung freezes. “You’re joking, right?”

“I’m not,” you answer.

“And you’re… are you okay?”

“I am.”

Taehyung knows you better than that but he gives you a pass because he could also tell you were tired and your short answers mean that you didn’t want to talk just yet.

“Do you want to talk about it over ice cream and fries?”

For a second, you felt tempted, but you just also wanted to go home. “Maybe some other time, Taehyung.”

Taehyung understands immediately and nods. “Should I take you to Woosung hyung or do I take you home?”

You do want to see Woosung because you know he is what you need, but you also don’t want to burden him with a bombshell of an event so you opt to be alone for the night. “Take me home, please.”

“Okay, ____,” Taehyung answers.

The rest of the car ride was a quiet one.

The short walk in the hallway leading to your home is a heavy one. As you punch in your passcode, you deeply sigh. You want nothing more than to collapse on the bed and ruminate on what just happened over the past few hours.

However, the moment you open the door, a wave of delicious scents welcomes you home. As you take off your shoes, you see a familiar pair. You smile to yourself as you place yours beside it. 

You enter your home further and see Woosung with his back to you, working his way in the kitchen. As if on cue, Woosung turns around and walks toward you. 

“Hey you,” you say with a smile.

“Hi,” Woosung responds, gathering you in his arms and pulling you into a tight embrace. “Did you have a good day, today?”

You feel yourself swallow once before nodding. Woosung, ever the sensitive boyfriend, holds you tighter.

You know you can’t hide from him. So you hold on to him tighter, too.

And you allow yourself to break down and cry.

Woosung feels your body shake and he runs his hand across your back to soothe you. 

He may not know what’s going on right now, but he also knows you will talk to him when you’re ready. So he continues to embrace you; kissing the side of your head after a while.

Woosung whispers against your ear, “You’re safe with me, sweetheart.”

taglist: @whoa-jo @nays2112 @junecat18 @jk97bam @butterymin @smdnai

tags for interested readers will be open for as long as this fic is ongoing! let me know in the comments or message me, whatever fits your preference!

[aohisworld]

EN- IMPACT!

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ As the 12th Harbinger, Aohi gets pretty lonely as she’s the only one the Tsaritsa barely assigns any work to. To tame her boredom, why not travel all over Teyvat?

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ poly!ot7 x addedmember!oc, contains. cringe writing, fluff, angst, erm.. a LOT of genshin terminology, a small amount of scary stuff maybe idk..

@chaconnenha (SURPRISE!!!)

| : ̗̀➛ WARNING! How I write ENHYPEN is not meant to portray the idols irl, this is my au and I write this for fun.

“…you.. want to what?..”

“I want to travel, your highness.” Aohi looked up from her bow to the lady on the throne, who had raised her since she was only a young child.

“What would you ever want to do that for?” The Tsaritsa places a hand on her beloved child’s cheek. Aohi gently pulls to her touch.

“You trained me to be a harbinger, your highness.. yet, I feel like decorum in your home.” Aohi spoke softly, looking down at the ice cold floor in worry of what the Tsaritsa would think.

The Tsaritsa thought hard at Aohi’s words, despite being depicted as a ruthless, tyrant archon, her frozen heart seemed to melt at the sight of the young girl she’s raised.

If any of the archons knew that.. they’d only use Aohi to get to her.

“..My dear, you are my chamberlain, I don’t assign you much because you’re already doing your duty.”

Aohi softly frowned at this, it was boring to sit in the house all day, just cleaning whatever spec of dust appears and walking through the same garden every evening.

“I am a harbinger, am I not, your royal highness?” She asked. The Tsaritsa smiling as she knows Aohi is too stubborn to accept an answer, even from her.

“Yes.. you are.” — “Then, don’t I deserve to do expeditions in your name? You trained me that way.”

The Tsaritsa smiled at her eagerness to explore, despite a long time passing by. “isn’t it time you mature, little pipistrelle?”

Aohi smiled at the Tsaritsa’s motherly teasing. “No, your highness, I am still young..” She replied, looking up at her with only a softness Aohi reserves for a mother.

A gentle laugh, contradicting her ruthless, tyrant-like story is heard. “..You never grow old, do you, Aohi?” Aohi only shakes her head, mirroring the Tsaritsa’s smile.

“Alright, I will allow you to travel, but you must promise me,” The Tsaritsa’s hand tilts Aohi’s chin upwards, a stern gaze on her face. “No one must know you are a harbinger, nor associated with Snezhnaya, do you understand?” Aohi listens to her words, ignoring the way her highness’s hand seemed to grow colder.

“If anyone finds that I treasure you more than anything or anyone, they will use you against me, and I’ll be weak enough to fall for it.”

“Yes, your highness.” Aohi steps away, and the Tsaritsa almost reaches back for her.. daughter. “Glory to her royal highness, the Tsaritsa.”

The 12th Harbinger, Pipistrelle, The Chamberlain.

࿇ ⟢ “The Tsaritsa’s right hand, rumours tell that she carries more authority than her superior, the Director of the Harbingers, Pierro.”

↳ Picked off the streets as a child by the Cryo Archon, the Tsaritsa. Her family had dropped her off, intending to have less mouths to feed. She stood in the eternal winter of Snezhnaya, with nothing but a winter coat that went down to her knees. The Tsaritsa took pity on the child, and returned to the palace to turn her into a soldier, gaining her spot beside the Tsaritsa as her chamberlain.

Entry 1 — Origins.

The Unreachable, Lee Heeseung, Libra Brachium.

࿇ ⟢ “One of many nobles in Mondstadt, despite being gifted of exceptional talent, is unreachable, choosing to spend his life in solitude.”

↳ A prodigy son blessed in many exceptional talents, gifted by the Anemo god, Barbatos. His family of engineers, excelling in any form of career or hobby, he, an ace in a deck of cards. He seemed favoured by the Archons when he was granted a Pyro vision on his coming-of-age. Through the gift, he’s given many opportunities, even being chosen as Varka’s successor of the Knights of Favonius, but never took it, an independent soul.

Entry 2 — The Man With Fury In His Soul.

The Kind-Spirited, Park Jeongseong, Calaeno Tauri.

࿇ ⟢ “He was scouted by the Akademiya at a young age, not for his smarts, but for is hard-working nature. Al Haitham speaks of him highly, never leaving the Scribe’s side.”

↳ An only child of his family, his parents always felt Jay was born with a strive to provide, always asking to help around the home whether he could do it or not. His sole goal was to be a good son, and to give hi parents an easy life as they grew older. As he was scouted by the Akademiya, he meets Jake, an eccentric, bubbly boy, growing to be best friends. Then, a tragedy struck, turning Jake from best friend to brother, as his parents took him in. Now he strives to help Jake uncover the truth about his parents’ death.

Entry 3 — The Akademiya’s Most Treasured.

The Optimistic, Sim Jaeyun, Antares Scorpius.

࿇ ⟢ “His parents were one of the revered scholars of the Akademiya, until they discovered something they shouldn’t of. Now the poor boy is abandoned, desperate to learn why his parents had disappeared from his life.”

↳ A child abandoned after his parents perished in an accident, was taken in by his best friend’s family, growing up to become determined to figure out why his parents died the way they did. Following his father’s hidden studies as Jake manages to join the Akademiya, he’s considered one of the best scholars the Akademiya had gained, rightfully restoring the greatness of his Sim family.

Entry 4 — He Who Called Himself Icarus.

The Driven, Park Sunghoon, Zeta Sagittarii.

࿇ ⟢ “A power-corrupted prince on ice. Even Fontaine’s Archon could not stop his obsession of making Ice Skating his domain, he wants nothing but to be the best, not only in Fontaine, but the entirety of Teyvat.”

↳ A renowned Ice Skater turned tyrant, Sunghoon wasn’t always so driven to win, when he used to rely on only his talent and skills, his performances were always fuelled with passion, he had won plenty of trophies on just his exceptionality in ice-skating, but as time went by, he’s controlled by his competitiveness spiralling out until he’s resorted to rigging performances through money and power. He wants to win, by any means necessary.

Entry 5 — He Who Rivals The Eternal Winter.

The Loyal, Nishimura Ni-ki, Alpha Sagittarii.

࿇ ⟢ “The Raiden Shogun has plenty of guards to defend her land, but he, he’s specifically chosen to protect the Shogun, a true prodigy. His swordsmanship never failing to protect its master.”

↳ His family was chosen to be one of the Shogun’s most trusted alongside the Kujou Family. His swordsmanship and excelling talents in fighting, gained the favour of the Electro Archon, becoming her most elite samurai. He gained his honour after fighting off the tenth Harbinger, ending Signora’s reign over Inazuma. He’s loyal to the Raiden Shogun, trained only by her and Guuji Yae of the Grand Narukami Shrine.

Entry 6 — He Who’s Loyalty Never Wavered.

The Youthful, Kim Sunoo, Acubens Cancri.

࿇ ⟢ “His youthfulness was envious, how could someone find such life to be worth living in? Perhaps, I envy the fact that he’s never had to live a life of difficulty, that he has parents who would not abandon him, that friends would look for him. It was envious, indeed.”

↳ A son, raised comfortably in the city of Liyue Harbour, helping his family sell on the docks of the harbour. He embodies the Youthfulness everyone used to have, He enjoys his life in Liyue, never wanting to travel, nor want anything more than to just live his life, to be a friend to those he makes, almost like a warm spirit, many think he’s like Guizhong’s child incarnate, his care-free spirit seems to soothe anyone near.

Entry 7 — The Boy Who Secretly Longed.

The Strong-Willed, Yang Jungwon, Theta Aquarii.

࿇ ⟢ “The way he looked me in anger, it was like he embodied Rex Lapis’ anger himself. For once in my life, I was terrified, a human, someone like him, having the anger of an adeptus- no. Like an Archon. He was dangerous, a human nurtured by the Geo Archon and his diplomats, the Adepti.”

↳ Jungwon was raised by his grandmother in Qingce Village, satisfied in his life of farming and taking care of his grandmother. As he was collecting herbs for his grandmother, he was attacked by the Fatui, being saved by a masked adeptus, and from then on, stemmed his want to be like that masked adepti he grew to know as Xiao. A human trained in the ways of being Adepti, Xiao’s successor.

Entry 8, The Last Entry — He Who Embodied An Archon.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

✨ let’s do a twst trade ✨

Hello ^^;;

This might be coming out of the blue. I’m typically a very private person and tend to stick with social circles I’m already familiar with.

Recently, I’ve been thinking that it would be nice to put myself out there and interact more! I can get easily overwhelmed, so I thought a good way to go about this is to do a handful of art/writing trades. This keeps the number low and conversation approachable, and I think that’d help slowly ease me into being more comfortable interacting and participating in community events.

***UPDATE: Trades now closed, thank you all for the interest!***

Here are the parameters and other important notes (setting these for my own comfort and lifestyle):

This will be a Twisted Wonderland themed trade because that’s the one thing we can guarantee to have in common.

I’ll write a fic for you! Minimum 1-2k words (but I tend to ramble so it could easily go higher than that), starring at least 2 characters (I can write more, but let’s not go too crazy and ask for all 22 NRC students in one fic).

I CAN write platonic, romantic, angst, fluff, yandere, AUs, etc.

I’m okay with writing any and all TWST characters, including staff, RSA students, family members, and other NPCs.

Of course, OCs are also welcome! I’d love to learn more about yours.

Be prepared with references for your OC(s) if applicable. This could include illustrations, but at the bare minimum should include a written explanation of who the character is, their personality, likes/dislikes, and relationships with canon characters.

There are limits to what I will write, as I am uncomfortable with some subject matters. For example, I’m not willing to write anything pregnancy-related. We can discuss my “no goes” in more detail if we decide to trade!

Upon request, I can do a simple digital piece of art OR a washi tape illustration (you won’t receive the physical piece, just a picture of it) for you. I believe most people know me more for my writing, but I wanted to keep these options on the table!

You trade me a fic of your own OR an artwork of roughly the same quantity/quality. As the saying goes, “what you give is what you get.”

We will talk and agree before we start on our pieces what each of us will generally provide at the end. (For example, a 5k word fic for a full color waist up illustration, 1k word fic for a black-white doodle, etc.)

You have to be okay with receiving a vague prompt. I like to be surprised, so I’ll probably just give you a list of general themes, ideas, and characters I like, then set you loose to see what you come up with.

You can be as specific as you like with your own prompt for me though—I’m flexible. Let me know what you don’t like as well so I can avoid including those elements.

To keep things fair, we’ll both hold onto our pieces and exchange them at the same time.

Regarding my written piece, it will be in a Google Doc for you to access.

This is NOT first come, first serve. I can only realistically take on 3-5 trades at this time depending on interest and complexity. If I turn you down, it’s nothing personal!

Priority will be given to mutuals (chances are that there’s more likely to be common ground if we’re already following each other).

Preference will be given to those indicated as adults in their blog intros/profiles (this is just what vibes the best with my personal communication style)

Be patient!! It may take me a few weeks or more to complete my part.

Be aware that doing a trade with me does NOT necessarily mean we will become best friends, and nor should this be the expectation 😅

If you’re okay with the above and are interested in a trade, please DM me! In your DM, you should indicate some prompts/ideas for what you’d like me to write. Please wait for me to respond; do NOT assume that I’ve accepted the trade request just because you’ve messaged me.

[smoooothoperator]

untouchable

13: Little Life

Lando Norris x OC (Violet Sinclair)

same group friend, unrequited love, acquittances to lovers, ski trip, love triangle, life as lovers

Words: 4.1k

Warnings: a lot of fluff

a/n: any guesses of what was the gifts Lando gave her?? just a miracle I had any ideas of what to write bc i'm sick lol :)

Masterlist

Official Playlist

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If you want to be tagged don't forget to message me!

Every way of feedback is very welcomed

Never in my life I imagined I would be that nervous. I wasn't nervous during my graduation from college, nor during my job interview where I had to translate a really complicated text. I was nervous the last time I had to face my ex, that man that tried to force me on my birthday. But it wasn't the same nervous feeling as the one I have right now.

Waking up on Christmas Day felt different. As a kid, the first thing you do is run out of bed and go to the living room to open all the gifts under the tree. 

But now,  waking up next to him, felt different. Today I was going to his parents house, with gifts for them in our hands.

“Morning” he whispered, burying his face in the space between my neck and shoulder, pressing a soft kiss in my skin. “Merry Christmas”

“Merry Christmas” I smiled, moving closer to him. “I have a present for you”

“I have one for you too” he whispered. “I left it under the tree”

I giggled softly and looked at him, cupping his cheek with my hand and kissing his lips softly. 

“You are the first guy that slept in this bed” I confessed. “I never imagined I would say something like that to you”

“Why?” he smiled weakly, brushing the hair out of my face.

“Well… As you may remember, I moved to this apartment a year ago, after the incident…” I sighed. “And since that I never felt comfortable around anyone except for Harry”

“Owen…” he sighed and somehow I flinched after hearing his name after a long time, making him wrap his arms around me tighter. “Look, I know sleeping in the same bed as someone else is already hard. But… I just don't want to force you, okay?”

“I mean… I already gave you head, silly” I whisper. “I feel really comfortable with you, I swear”

“I'm glad to hear that” he smiled, kissing my forehead. “Just know that I would never ever force myself into you. Never”

I looked up at him and smiled, pecking his lips softly. I just wanted to show him how much he means everything he's doing for me, how grateful I feel for the love he gives me, and how easy he makes me to love him.

“Let's go open the presents” I whisper, sitting on the bed and stretching my arms, feeling his hand running all over my back.

I smiled and looked at him, kissing him again and again before getting up. I put on my joggers and his hoodie and tied up my hair in a messy bun, waiting for him to get out of the bed. 

This felt good. Sleeping with him felt good, having breakfast together felt good. Somehow, being with him all the time felt good, and I don't want to complain about it.

We sat in front of the tree, looking at the bags. Max and Pietra left their gifts for us there, so there were three presents for each one.

“Open mine the last” he said, making me look at him and frown. “Come on! Trust me!”

I sigh and smile softly, leaving the bag with his name next to me and opening the other two with Max's and Pietra's names on it. Pietra gifted me a book nook to put on my shelves and a bag, Max gifted me a reading journal and a book I was looking after about legends and myths. 

“Am I that obvious?” I laughed looking at the presents.

“I think your collection of one specific book and your office are a clear example that you love books” he smiled.

“Harry hated that I spent money on buying books” I sighed. “He always said that I should buy something like a Kindle to carry it with me”

“You know the answer to what I think about him” he sighed. “He always said shit like that to everyone, saying that he doesn't spend much money, that he only buys what he thinks he needs. At this point I think he's a narcissist and an egoist, always talking about himself and how good he does things”

I smiled weakly and nodded. I didn't tell him that I saw him yesterday while doing groceries. And I think I won't tell him, yet 

“Open mine” he smiled excitedly, looking at me.

“What, you want me to say that it's the best gift?” I smirked looking at him, watching how he was looking at me with happiness in his eyes.

“Oh, I think I know it will be the best one” he joked. “And I have to admit that it's has its merit because I had the idea for it yesterday”

I look at him and shake my head, smiling while I open the bag. There was an envelope and something more wrapped with paper.

“Open the wrapped one” he said, resting his head on his hand. 

I frown and grab it, shaking it a little. It sounded exactly like the box of a videogame. I looked at him and rolled my eyes playfully when he wiggled his eyebrows, making me chuckle softly. I tears off the paper, laughing when I saw two blue boxes of a videogame for the PlayStation.

“What? What is this?” I frown looking at the two games. “Assassin's Creed Origins and Odyssey… Oh! Are those games about Greece and Egypt?”

“Correct” he nodded. “Open the Origins one”

I looked at him and smiled, watching that the box didn't have the security plastic. I bite my lip and open it, frowning when I didn't see the CD of the game itself but a few papers folded.

“What…?” I frown, unfolding the papers and gasping when I read what was on them. “No way. Lando! Are you crazy?!”

“Now open the Odyssey one” he chuckled, excited to see my reaction.

“You are insane” I mumbled, opening the other box and finding the same things I saw in the other one. “Lando…”

“I have a lot of free time” he said, grabbing the envelope and placing it in my hand. “And you will too, because I know you can work at distance, that you can translate things without going to the museum because that's what you did while we were on the snow trip”

“But Lando, this… God, this is too much” I said looking at the papers, smiling weakly when I read what was inside the envelope.

“I made you smile, that's the most important thing, Violet” he smiled holding my hand. 

“You are crazy” I smile softly, feeling tears in my eyes. “God, you are making me cry! This… this touched me a lot. No one did something like this for me”

“I hope you are crying of happiness” he said, pulling me to him, bringing me to his lap and wrapping his arms around me. “I will do anything to make you happy, Violet. I swear. The money is not important at all, I have enough of it, it's not a problem”

“But my gift is really insignificant compared to this” I sighed.

“I don't care” he whispered. “Besides, this is something I will enjoy too and you will help me enjoy it more”

I smile and kiss his cheek softly, peppering kisses over his jaw and cheek until I touch his lips. The last few days I discovered myself longing for his kisses, to have his lips pressed on my, to feel his lips peppering kisses over my cheek, forehead, shoulder or temple. Kissing him is like a new drug I never want to leave.

“You are amazing” I whisper against his lips.

“I'm just trying to be enough for you” he said. “To be what you deserve”

“You are enough” I whisper.

He smiled and broke the kiss, kissing the tip of my nose before grabbing the bag with the gift I made for him. He opened and smiled, looking at the two boxes inside of it.

“Oh! You noticed” he smiled when he saw the box with his favorite perfume. 

“You left the bottle in my room this morning” I said. “I saw that it barely had liquid so I just wanted to get you a new one. And I love the smell of this perfume. I love smelling my this scent in the pillow when you leave, or bury my nose in the neck of this hoodie and smell you”

“Thank you” he smiled, kissing my cheek softly. He opened the other box and smiled, looking at the necklace on it. “At this point I'll only have jewelry you gifted me”

“I would gladly do that” I chuckled. “Do you use rings?”

“I mean… Not all the time” he smiled. “I forget to put them back once I take them off”

“Mhm” I nodded, biting my lip. “Okay”

“Why?”

“Oh, just wondering” I smiled.

We stayed like this for a while, in each other's embrace sitting on the floor, surrounded by presents and broken papers. His hands placed on my back held me tight to him, his thumbs drawing abstract figures over my skin made me relax, his chin resting on the crook of my neck with his breathing in my skin, were the best thing I could feel. 

Until now, I never realized that with him I felt safe. Not only now that I'm giving up and letting my walls down for him and that I can finally see how things truly are since I knew how Harry was, but since the first time I saw him. He always looked at me with a soft gaze that now made me regret thinking all those things about him just because Harry said that he was bad news. He always took care of me from the distance, giving me reasons to smile only by sending me books or gifts. He always asked me how I was doing even if he knew that I didn't want to be around him. He was always there for me even if I never noticed.

“Let's make breakfast” I whisper, rubbing his back.

“Okay”

I got up, immediately missing his warmth, and walked to the kitchen to make us something for breakfast. He followed me like a lost puppy, helping me with everything and trying to steal moments to hug me while the pancakes were on the pan.

“You are so clingy” I whispered, placing my free hand on top of his.

“You never complained” he laughed, kissing my cheek.

“And I'll never do it”

Having him here felt good. Being this domestic with bim felt good. Being with him feels good.

We had breakfast in silence, reading things on our phones, showing memes to each other. And the moment I washed the dishes, my mind realized that the next place I will go is to his parents house. And somehow, I started to panic.

“Lando?” I called him. 

“Yeah?” he smiled walking towards me. “Hey, you okay?”

“I… I'm going to your parents house” I said looking at him. “Like… I mean, I know them. I met them during your races and that. But… this is a completely different situation! I'm going there for Christmas”

“Yeah, so what?” he frowned, confused. 

“You are bringing a girl!” I said. “A-and, well…”

“We're a soon to be couple, right?” he said, holding my hands. “It's completely fine, I promise. They knew about my feelings towards you, and somehow I told them that we have been working on it since the ski trip. It's okay, Violet. Really. Don't worry about it”

“But then I have to make a good impression, Lando” I said. “Like… What if they don't like me? What if they think I'm not enough?”

“Hey” he smiled, cupping my cheeks. “They love you, yeah? Everything will be okay. Take a deep breath”

I sigh and nod, looking at him. In my previous relationships, meeting the parents was hard. They all had something bad to say about me: I wasn't as skinny as they would have liked, his ex was better, I don't have enough status for him. I know Lando's parents, I met them a few times as well as his siblings, but somehow it didn't feel the same as now meeting them as someone that is more than a friend for Lando. What am I supposed to answer when they ask what we are? We're not a couple, I don't want to rush things. We are friends, yeah, but friends that sleep together in the same bed and act like a couple all the hours of the day. 

“It will be okay” he said, kissing my forehead. “And now, go get dressed”

I sighed and nodded, going to my bedroom followed by him and we got changed. I felt his eyes on my back while I took off my clothes, making me blush. He never saw me fully naked, only in a bikini, neither  that last day in the snow when we thought we were going to have sex. 

“I'll turn around if you feel uncomfortable” Lando said when he saw I stopped undressing myself. 

“Stop being perfect” I joked when his back was facing me, throwing him the shirt I was wearing, actually his shirt. “You can look”

“I don't want to make you uncomfortable, Violet” he said. 

I smiled and walked towards him, hugging him. I pressed my body into his back, my hands on his abdomen. I trust him, I really do. 

And I love him for that.

I felt him take a deep breath when he noticed that I wasn't wearing a bra and kissed his shoulder. He relaxed in my arms, letting out the breath he was holding. 

“I know I'm not perfect” I whispered. “That I don't go to the gym and have a healthy diet, that I'm not fit like a model. I know that I don't have a body worthy of a fashion show. But I am how I am”

“Don't change” he said. “Never change. I love you how you are. You are perfect, Violet. I don't care if you are not a model. In my eyes, you are a goddess, can't you see?”

I smile and unwrap my arms from his body, letting him turn around and not caring when his eyes look at my body, scanning every curve of my anatomy.

“You are perfect” he smiled, placing his hands on my waist and pulling me closer to him. 

I smile and wrap my arms around his neck, closing my eyes and letting him hold me. I know this is not the moment, this is not the time to have our first time, but the fact that I took a step forward to start this relationship, made me happy.

“You are my favorite person, Violet” he whispered.

“And you are mine” I whisper back. 

And somehow, that felt like saying that I love him.

Going to my parents house was a road trip of two hours and a half. Two hours of driving my car with Violet next to me, letting me hold her hand or place my hand on her thigh.

Taking her to my parents house was something I always wanted to do. They knew about my feelings for her since the moment I realized I had them, and now that she is finally with me, I just wanted to introduce her to them.

We are not a couple yet, and I don't know when I will ask her to be mine. But what we have right now is perfect, I don't need anything else.

The present I gave her was something I knew she would love. She only travels when she's invited to our trips, she always said that it's her first time in a place when we arrive there. And I wanted to change it. I want to show her the world, to make her see in real life all the art she studies, to let her see in real life that thing she only sees in museums or on the internet.

“What did you buy for your family?” she asked me.

“Correct, we bought” I smirked “For my parents and Savannah and Oliver, one of those SmartBox for a spa weekend. For my younger sister a set of jewelry and for my sister Flo a new helmet that will have the same design of the one I'll have next year”

“Oh! That's nice!” she smiled. “I bought Athena and Mila some things from the store of the museum like a book with drawings of the paintings and then some little toys for them”

“See? You do the job of auntie pretty well, hm?” I joked, making her doll her eyes and laugh softly. “I'm serious!”

“You are lucky I love Mila and Athena” she said, and somehow when she started talking I had a little heart attack.

I told her that I love her, I never stop telling her. And it's not that I want to hear it immediately, but the way she acts around me makes me think that she in fact has those type of feelings for me. 

But… is this fair? I planned everything, I wanted to confess my feelings during the trip, but I never expected it to turn out the way it did. I never expected it to work, to have her with me in my car or sleep with her in her bed, to kiss her whenever I wanted and hold her in my arms. Somehow, this felt like a dream. Too good to be true. But if this was a dream I don't want to wake up, never.

When I parked the car next to my brother's I looked at her, holding her hand.

“Are you okay?” I asked her.

“Yeah… I think so, yeah” she nodded. “Do they know that I'm going?”

“Oh yeah” I nodded. “My mom even made your favorite dish”

“Really? No way!” she gasped. 

I chuckled and nodded, opening the door and going to the back of her car to grab the bags of the presents. She helped me, holding the smaller bags with one hand.

“Let's go” I smiled, kissing her temple.

She was perfect. The moment we walked inside the house and she took a deep breath, I could feel how she immediately relaxed. My mother welcomed us, and the moment she saw Violet next to me, her smile grew wider.

“Oh, Violet! It's so nice to see you” she smiled, hugging her, winking at me.

“Merry Christmas” she smiled, hugging her back.

I walked towards them and smiled, watching how my mom unwrapped her arms from Violet and imme hugged me.

“You deserve this” she whispered. “My good boy”

I chuckled softly and kissed her cheek, hugging her tightly. My sisters and dad came towards us and we all went to the living room, where my brother was already with his wife and his kids.

“Oh, hey!” Oliver smiled, standing up with Athena in his arms.

“Baby Athena!” I heard Violet giggle, talking with the high pitched voice she always used when she was around my nieces. “Hello, baby girl!”

I smiled when Oliver looked at me surprised, letting Violet hold his younger daughter. I smile hugging him, patting his back and pulling away just to look at Violet holding Athena close to her.

God, is it too soon to talk about babies? It is, right?

My family welcomed her as she has been here since forever, and I was so grateful for that. My sisters included her in their conversations, even my mom let her help clean the dishes instead of making her stay sitting like she was a special guest. And watching her getting involved with them, filing and talking with them, made me fall even harder for her.

“I really think she's the one” I told Oliver, sitting on the couch, watching how Violet played with Mila and Athena. “Every fight and argument with Harry were worth it. I fought for her”

“And I'm so proud of you for never giving up on her” he smiled. “When are you going to ask her to be your girlfriend?”

“O-oh, well…” I smile, biting my lip, grabbing my phone and showing him my screen. “I kinda have it planned”

“Of course you do” he laughed softly, hitting my arm. 

I smiled looking again at Violet, getting up and walking towards her when she smiled at me, sitting on the floor next to her and playing with Mila.

She's the love of my life. I would do anything to make her happy.

We spent the rest of the day with his family, and it felt good, amazing. The way they welcomed me and never judged me was so heartwhelming.

Athena and Mila insisted on being around me. The older little girl held my hand all the time, leading me wherever she wanted to go with her, showing me all her toys and books her parents brought, making me sit on the floor with her between my legs.

I liked this. I liked being treated this way, like another one of the family.

Lando's sisters talked with me like we were friends. Savannah trusted me enough to hold her daughters and have her younger one sleeping in my arms. Lando's mom asked about my work and studies like a mother, getting interested in whatever I said. Even his dad and brother got in the conversation, asking about my job in the museum and when they can go to visit me.

Is this how it feels being in a healthy family? One that doesn’t judge you, that thinks they know what's better for you?

“Well, I think we should go back to London” Lando said, looking at his wrist watch, stretching his arms and wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

“Oh! Why don't you stay the night?” his mom said with a big smile, clapping her hands happily. “In that way you two can rest and go back there in the morning”

“Mom, she has to work tomorrow…” he smiled weakly looking at me.

“It's okay” I said smiling, placing my hand on Lando's knee. “We can stay”

“Are you sure?” he whispered looking at me.

“Mhm, yeah” I smiled, kissing the tip of his nose.

“Okay, then” his mom smiled. “Lando's room is clean and the bed is made too. You can sleep there”

I smile and nod, leaning on him and wrapping my arm around his torso. I relaxed in his arms, taking a deep breath and looking at the fire dancing in the fireplace. His fingers played with my hair softly, making me cuddle him and rest my head on his chest.

“Do you want to go to bed?” he whispered, kissing the top of my head and I nodded my head.

He got up and held my hand, pulling me to him. We hugged his parents and siblings good night and then walked towards his room.

“This is my childhood room” he laughed softly. “Obviously reformed”

I chuckled and looked around while he grabbed a shirt for me to sleep on it. He walked towards me, wrapping his arms around my abdomen, pulling me close to him.

“Today was perfect” I smiled, turning around to wrap my arms around his neck. “Thank you”

“I’m glad” he whispered, leaning closer to mez resting his forehead against mine. “Because this, Violet…This is what I want for you, for us. A healthy environment, a healthy family. People that support you and won't judge you”

I smiled and nodded, kissing him softly, holding him tightly against me. We got undressed slowly, taking off our clothes and leaving them on the floor, not wanting to pull away.

“I don't think it's a good idea doing this with my parents around” he whispered, taking a deep breath when we stood naked in the middle of his room, only wearing underwear.

“Then we won't do it” I whisper. “But we can just get in the bed, feel each other's body and kiss, right?”

“Oh yeah, please” he chuckled, jumping on the bed and opening his arms for me. “Come here”

“Silly” I chuckled, crawling towards him and kissing his lips, feeling his hands over my body and pulling me close to him.

violetsinclair

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell, pietra.pilao, savnorris and 698 others

violetsinclair I think I like this little life🧡

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pietra.pilao that little life suits you very well

violetsinclair I think so, yeah🥰🧡

landonorris

liked by maxfewtrell, pietra.pilao, oscarpiastri and 258.735 others

landonorris This little life

view all comments

maxfewtrell I think Athena has a new favorite person

landonorris for once I don't mind

oscarpiastri when are you bringing her to the garage?👀

landonorris who? Athena? She's too young for that😌

taglist

@elisysd @racinggirl @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @landoyesrizz @lorarri @bellwhysomean @leptitlu @aphroditeisamilf @brekkers-whore @copper-boom @sideboobrry11 @alltoomaples @f1madison @elijahslover @silkenthusiasts @chonkybonky @summerslike11 @randomgirlnumber-13 @is-just-a @whentheautumnleavesfall @malynn @mycenterfold @barackosteaa @izzy-marvel @ssprayberrythings @ophcelia

[princkleeatscookies]

before anyone asks me

I said this in my other socials but yes, I'm still keeping my Strawberry Shortcake Cookie oc. (Though will be referring to her as OC!Strawberry Shortcake Cookie for now on while talking about the OC herself) MORE INFO IN THE KEEP READING!!

I created OC!Strawberry Shortcake Cookie around when I was in middle school (back when I was started out cookie run) and since then she became a main staple for my identity her design was a lot different compared to now and I developed her character since then, I couldn't exactly really change her nor I'll abandon her outright just bc of an existing character of the same name was released recently

Instead of abandoning her, I decided to let these two co-exist at the same time because, at the end of the day their similarities are just their names and nothing else Remember:

OC!Strawberry Shortcake Cookie I'm referring to a 19 year old lovable idiot photographer who's in a relationship with her childhood friend who's the fuckass consul, and is currently in college (uses she/her btw)

CANON Strawberry Shortcake Cookie is a puppy cakehound who the witch turn into a cookie in hopes of finding their lost owner (afaik, the pupper uses they/them and is also a puppy so..) PLEASE DO NOT CONFUSE THE TWO!!

-- with a vast world like Cookie Run, there's bound to have cookies sharing the same name BUT aren't the same ones like we know (like there could be a Cherry Blossom Cookie that's entirely different from the Cherry Blossom Cookie we knew, they literally just share the same name) It's really upsetting for me to see Cookie Run OC Creators outright abandoning their character they love and put a lot of work into just because of a mere "canon" version of their oc the stories and potential just gone to waste, and I wouldn't want anyone to feel that way. Your OC is your OC!! and you can do anything you want with them (as long as it's not.. y'know- weird) can't have a simple name/ingredient be getting out of your way of creating!! after all:

I'll be making a separate post about a little trend/movement I had posted in both my twitter and instagram to basically having to draw cookies with the same ingredient as the canon ones shown in the game~! the main purpose of the trend is to encourage oc creators to keep their ocs and to show that it's okay (if they already change their name, I think you can still participate in it since their origins still there!!) here's an example

I wanted to spread positivity out of this common problem within the oc creator side of the Cookie Run community and I hope you'll be encourage too, thank you all for reading this far into the post

[justrainandcoffee]

The sun always rises again (Farrier x fem!oc) Part I

Dunkirk

Farrier Masterlist

Summary: Farrier is in Sussex visiting his grandmother who is sadly dying. In a local pub, he and his best friend, Collins, met Marguerite in not the best circumstances. What started as a nice gesture quickly became in an inevitable attraction. || Collins plays his best cards trying to persuade his best friend to do something about the girl that he clearly likes and, maybe, he succeeds.

Warnings: Misogyny, sexual harassment. Mentions of war. Fluff. || Collins is the MVP.

Words: 3k.

1932

Marguerite Sarah Lewis was born in 1910 in London but when she was four years old, her mother and older brother moved to Sussex. Although French, her mother met her husband there and for the woman it was a special place.

1914 meant the beginning of one of the greatest wars that Earth faced until that point of the history and Mr. Lewis answered the called. And that's why Elise Lewis, the wife, took her kids and went there. The sea, the view, allowed the woman to imagine that one day soon she was going to see him back.

But that day never came. Nor in 1914 nor the next four years. In 1918, Marguerite was eight years already and his brother twelve. Both of them old enough to understand that their father was never coming back. Yet, Mrs. Lewis stayed there waiting for a ship that didn't exist.

Theodore Lewis jr, her brother, moved again to London when he was old enough to do it but she remained there in Sussex where she was still studying.

Her mother died when she was 19, in 1929. Maggie always knew that the poor woman never accepted her husband's fate. And now that she was older understood a bit better what she was feeling. Probably if Mr. Lewis had survived the war, then his wife wouldn't have died at the age of 43. But that was something that the Lewis siblings will never know.

The only thing that Maggie knew now was that she was the owner of her own destiny and needed to live in that world called adulthood.

She found a job in a local library first, where she worked for two years until she started to work as waitress in a new pub. The salary was higher and the tips were all for her.

In 1932, when she was 22, her life changed completely when she met him.

The pub was crowded as always. Men going there to relax after work was something that happened every day. It was full of loud men, laughing, chatting and making jokes while they were drinking beer.

Among them, two friends were having a conversation too. Their blue uniforms indicated that they were soldiers probably out of duty for a while. One had blond hair and the other brown shorter than the first one.

"Hope your grandmother can get well soon, Farrier."

"I don't think so. Until this point we're expecting the inevitable, but at least I'm here to be with her. Thanks for coming with me, by the way."

The blond, Collins, smiled "That's what friends do, Will."

Farrier nodded raising his pint of beer. "How's Sally?"

"It didn't work. But there's plenty of women in this world."

"And if men keep creating unnecessary wars soon the planet will be just populated by women. And humanity will be doom."

"Humanity is already doomed. But, if that's the case, then better I hurry up to get one before my death. And you should do the same."

Farrier shook his head "I don't have time for that. I always promised myself to be a good husband and father, not like my old man. If I get a girl, then it has to be for life."

"Sometimes you took life too seriously, William. Go Farrier, fuck some girls and you'll be fine."

William Farrier just hummed.

Collins decided to changed the subject and both men started talking about the new pilots that both of them were training. Young but smart men, ready to fight if the country needed it. Although both of them really hoped that it would never be necessary.

Maggie was praying in silence for the end of her shift. Sadly, she was used to men being rude and sometimes puting their hands on her body, but this time one in particular was crossing the line and she was quite uncomfortable. His friends were more drunk than he was and the only thing they managed to do was to encourage him to be nastier.

"Hey, doll, bring your pretty ass here, sweetheart! My mates and me want more beer. And unbutton your dress a bit more, love! Those two precious tits of yours want to know me."

The four of them of laughed so hard that Farrier and Collins that until that moment weren't paying attention at all, looked at them and both exchanged glances then.

Maggie looked at her both co-workers and friends, who same as her knew the consequences of working in that kind of jobs. They were young women in 1930s there wasn't much they could do there. Maggie just breathe and walked to them carrying a new tray and left it on the table but she wasn't quick enough and the man grabbed her by the waist and sit them on his lap, against her will.

"I have to go," she said trying to get up "I have work to do."

"Pretty sure your friends can cover you, love."

"No, they can't."

"Come on, sweetheart. I saw you looking at me. Let's have fun."

"I said no."

"She said no," mocked him, smirking at his friends who laughed again. "The little bitch, said no."

"She said no."

This time it was a deeper voice and the man in question turned around to see both pilots behind him. His friends looked down and pretended to be drinking their beers. The man let her go.

"We're just having fun."

"Get your ass out of here. Now."

He thought for a moment about starting a fight with them. He and his friends were four and the strangers were just two, but something in them make him reconsider his options. The blond was taller than him and the other seemed to be stronger. Not to mention that they were trained men. The group just recoiled and without further words, they left the place.

"Are you okay?" Farrier asked to Maggie.

"Yes. Thanks, sir. And you too," she said looking at Collins as well. "Usually I know people here, but those were new."

"Probably they won't come back."

"I hope not. You're new too."

"Temporary living here," Farrier commented. "My grandmother is sick and I'm just saying goodbye."

"That's sad, I'm sorry."

"Thanks, miss…"

"Marguerite Lewis."

"William Farrier, miss Lewis," the man said kissing her hand.

At their side, Collins was smiling and was waiting for the perfect to start teasing his best friend.

The days that followed, Farrier visited the pub every night. Sometimes with his friend, sometimes alone.

There was something in Marguerite that Farrier found fascinating. She had a pretty smile and his brown eyes and dark red hair made her even prettier. He had the chance to speak to her and discovered a good young woman. Maggie loved to read same way she loved yo bake. Once, she offered him one of her cookies and Farrier could testify that they were indded delicious. And even without knowing everything about him, she sent flowers to his grandmother's funeral when she knew about the sad news. Something that Farrier took as signal that she was really a good person.

They even spent a morning in the beach, talking and walking by the seashore. Her reddish hair shone in the sun and William wondered if the hair was really as soft as it looked. Or if her lips were.

"I used to play here a lot when I was a kid," she said unaware of his thoughts, "despite everything, I had a good childhood."

"Despite everything?"

"My father died in the Great War. I don't really remember him, I just know him because of the photo my mother kept."

"I'm sorry, Marguerite. That sounds sad."

"It was for my mother and maybe my older, he remembers him a bit more. You can't really miss someone you don't remember, right?"

"I guess. But still is a sad situation. No kid should grow up without a father."

"And yet…" Maggie looked at him and smiled softly "but it doesn't matter. That was long ago."

Not long ago for Farrier's liking. He was also a kid back then, but he remembered his mother talking about the mutilated soldiers she saw in the hospital were she worked as nurse. And the sadness in her eyes when years later her son told her that he was now part of the air force. But she never opposed to his decision.

"Do you like the sea, Mr. Farrier? I guess watching it from the skies is quite an experience."

"I do like the sea, yes. And it is, it's big and infinite. Indescribable."

Maggie looked at him for a moment and saw him lost in the memories of an experience she was never going to feel.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" she asked. So he told her about the sky, the clouds, the cold air in his face. The feeling of parachute jumping.

His life, Maggie thought, it was extraordinary and there was no way that a man like him could find interesting the life of a town girl whose more fascinating experience of the week was to find a pound in the street. Or that beautiful ring that found one day walking through the beach. And yet, Farrier was ready to hear about her same way she was about him.

.

"You like her," Collins finally said at the end of their second week there, "I highly recommend you to do something because someone else can take advantage of your slowness."

"Like you?"

"I'd never do that to you. I know I'm more handsome but she's with you. I heard that there's a place where you can eat and dance nearby, invite her to go with you, William. I don't think she refuses the invitation considering how she looks at you."

Collins was right.

Maggie couldn't deny that she was captivated by the pilot from almost the beginning. He was handsome, attentive and a gentleman. William was the kind of man that her mother said she needed to find but that until the moment she knew him, she thought didn't exist.

Danny, one of her co-workers and friends, borrowed her one her dresses. Danielle's sister worked in a textile mill and she usually gave her sister clothes that the factory rejected despite their impeccable condition. The dark green dress that Maggie was wearing that night

So of course she said yes.

.

Danny, one of her co-workers and friends, borrowed Maggie one her dresses. Danielle's sister worked in a textile mill and she usually gave her sister clothes that the factory rejected despite their impeccable condition. The dark green dress that Maggie was wearing that night was one of those. Marguerite also allowed her friend to do her makeup.

"He's so handsome," Danny commented, smiling at her "and you're very lucky, Mags."

"Do you think I have a chance? I really like him."

"I think, you are the luckiest girl in whole Sussex."

Marguerite smiled. Never before a man paid attention to her the way Farrier did those days there. Sure she flirted innocently with some of young men in town, and kissed some of them years ago, but never did more than that. Never felt confident enough to do it because all those boys didn't seem to be looking for a serious relationship. But William wasn't a boy, he was a man and he acted like one.

Maggie looked at her in the mirror, when Danny finished her job, and smiled. The final result was better than she imagined.

Collins didn't tell Farrier who was the owner of the car that was parked in front of the house that belonged to William's grandmother, but somehow his friend managed to get one so he could go with Maggie to their date.

"Are you going to get in trouble for this?"

Collins snorted "please, have a bit of faith in me."

Farrier raised an eyebrow, suspiciously, but after looking at him several seconds let it go. "Okay then. Give me the car keys."

"Have fun, Romeo," Collins said throwing the keys at him.

.

Maggie didn't expect to have a good night like that one, although she dreamt about it. Feeling a happiness that didn't know it was possible to feel and her heart pounding by just looking at him. For a moment she felt stupid smiling at him almost all the time but she couldn't help it. Dinner was delicious and they spent the time to know each other a bit more. She even let him take her hands in his.

Maggie knew French because her mother used to talk in her native tongue in the house. Farrier asked her to taught him the language, if she wanted, because in his own words "you will never know when you're going to need it."

"But for that, you need to stay here, William, I can't teach you from the distance."

"Maybe I found a reason to stay," he answered. And for someone who, as his best friend claimed, took life too seriously felt as a personal achievement that flirty but also true line.

Dancing with William was lovely. Several other couples were doing the same with their partners while a singer sang and the orchestra accompanied her beautiful voice.

Maggie had her head resting on his shoulder and his hand was on her waist. Farrier could feel her perfume invading his nostrils. It was sweet with a delicate aroma of roses.

Your slowness.

Collins' words resounded in Farrier head. Fucking Collins. Who was he calling slow? His hand left her waist carresed her cheek. Both pair of eyes stared at each other before he leaned towards her a press his lips against hers.

Maggie put her hands on his chest and let him guide her. Despite his appearance, at least with her in that moment, Farrier it was gentle. When they pulled apart, he caressed her hair.

"I like you," Farrier confessed.

"I like you, too, Will."

And to confirm those words, they kissed again.

.

Farrier had only two weeks left before returning to work and he spent every moment with her. Even if she was working, William was there. He became part of the landscape of that pub and everyone there, even the owner, know who he was now. And when she wasn't working, they were in the beach or in her house.

The last night, she let him enter in her bed for the first time. He was her first time and Farrier, if that was possible, fall in love with her even more.

"I'll be back soon," he promised her while she was in his arms and she was holding her against his body.

"I'll be waiting for you."

William kissed her again and Maggie knew, no matter what would happen in the future, that he was the most correct decision she ever took in her whole life.

The months they spent separated, they communicate through letters and some calls when they had the chance to use a phone. Collins attributed his friend's new behaviour to him and in part, he was right.

Of course William returned to Sussex, this time alone, and he did with a ring in his pocket. The same night they saw eachother again, he asked her to be his wife and feeling a happiness that it was hard to describe, Maggie accepted his proposal.

Farrier sold her grandmother's house and the one his own old flat and moved to Sussex with her.

Marguerite Lewis became Marguerite Farrier just weeks later. The wedding in the church in that town was a celebration for the people living there, her brother that went from London to there and, of course, Collins.

His life those first years there were the happiest that Farrier could remember. His wife gave him two beautiful kids that he swore to protect with his life, same as her.

"One day I'm going to be a pilot like you, papa," his firstborn called Edward, said.

"Will you?"

"Yeah. Flying the skies in my own plane!" the boy exclaimed opening his arms and running around him simulating he was indeed flying. William caught his son and lifted him in the air and Edward started to laugh, still with his arms wide open like plane.

From the kitchen window where she was cooking, Maggie couldn't help but smile looking at them with pure love. Once, Farrier commented her that he always promised himself to be a good husband and father and it was clear now that he was fulfilling that promise.

While Ed stayed outside playing with his toys and their little girl, Clara, was sleeping on the couch, William went to where his wife was.

Marguerite smiled when she felt his strong arms around her and his lips on her neck.

"It smells delicious, Maggie."

"Thanks, honey. It will be ready in no time."

William placed a new kiss on her skin before opening the cupboard to search the plates and cutlery.

Life was good for the Farriers in that little corner of the world.

Sadly, it was already 1938.

_

PART 2

[nrc-counselor]

Since this discussion has been going around recently and has revealed a fair few instances of transphobia in this fandom that I wanted to my point clear: I despise the trope that "everyone finds our Yuu is a girl" because a lot of people who are writing it unintentionally embed their work with transphobia.

And while I know I do not have enough followers for this to actually make a change, I want to explain what I mean so maybe someone will think about how they write this trope.

More often then not, this idea that Yuu is a girl is inherently attached to them being cis with this revelation occurring through them either menstruating or people realizing they have boobs (yes I've seen this one a fair few times) instead of the fact that Yuu just identifies as a girl.

Ignoring my other views on this trope, assigning girlhood or proving Yuu is a girl by claiming their sex or aspects of their sex is what defines that is a problem and a big one. Not all afab people are women nor do they identify as such. Someone being able to menstruate, have boobs, or even have a vagina does not make them a woman no matter what. Similarly someone being amab does not make them a man or mean they must identify as one.

By putting this idea up that Yuu is a girl and that her proof being a girl is her being afab or her menstruating, two things occur. For the menstruation as proof of girlhood, this unintentionally attaches menstruation to girlhood or as proof you are a girl which as explained above borders closer on transphobia than people realize. This also implies there are no other afab people at NRC aka no trans men or nonbinary people who would need the same products, and I only mention this because there are a few instances in these stories where period products are unable to be found in the nurses office because "NRC is a boys school" which isn't this gotcha people think it is.

2) I cannot say this enough but attaching boobs or having a vagina as what makes you a women is not only transphobic but borders on misogyny in ways that we need to talk about. Your sex does not always define your gender.

As we get to the end of this discussion, I want to be clear in saying that I don't think the people writing these are transphobic. I honestly believe a lot of people are writing it this way because they are cis and have never had to or thought to separate their gender from their sex. As a result of never having to question it, I think they do not realize they are writing it this way.

Additionally, I am not saying your Yuu has to be gender neutral or can't be a cis women. Do what you want: your ocs are not my ocs and I have no control over them. What I am saying is that if you are making x readers which are intended to include as much of your audience as possible, please think of your trans and nonbinary readers. I am not saying that you can't have Yuu go through menstruation or write a one shot about it. You can! Hell, I can give recommendations for those.

All I am asking for is that if you are going to write a piece that uses the "everyone finds out Yuu is a girl" trope then please take my advice and look it over and consider if any of this stuff is unintentionally transphobic. I know I can't stop you from writing that and I am not trying to. I am just trying to share my voice and concerns about it as a trans person because as of late, people have not been taking them seriously especially in this fandom