#mind im not *not* an alcoholic now but i no longer feel the need to almost kill myself with it every single night

[sangfielle]

moving out and kind of becoming a stoner has been fun honestly. its a lot better than being a severe alcoholic if nothing else

[kitten4sannie]

ɪɴᴅᴜꜱᴛʀʏ ʙᴀʙʏ

ᴄᴜᴄᴋᴏʟᴅ/ᴄᴜᴍ ᴘʟᴀʏ ➠ ᴍɪɴɢɪ/ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ

pairing: singer/rapper bf! mingi x fem! reader x guitarist! hongjoong

genre: band au, smut

summary: your bf’s band has such a good set, that he doesn’t mind sharing you with the handsy guitarist. anything for his baby. he just wants to assess the damage afterwards.

w.c: 3.2k

warnings: open relationship, mentioned alcohol/drugs use, dom! mingi/hongjoong, joongie’s got a tongue piercing ^^, sub! reader, so muchhh cucky behavior, mxm if you squint, teasing, perversion, dirty talk, degradation, pet names, fingering, oral (receiving), voyeurism/exhibitionism, unprotected rough sex, actual phone sex, creampie, two seconds of cockwarming, cum eating, more oral and fingering, some clit nibbling, squirting

a/n: urgghh im obsessed with tunnel and mingi and hongjoong’s guitar solo and just minjoong in general hhhhhnn also idkw happened but hongjoong is giving me more and more brainworms these days and i just i’m uhhhhh 🧎🏻‍♀️so yeah please enjoy whatever this is <33

Now Playing:

ᴅɪɢɪᴛᴀʟ ʙᴀᴛʜ ʙʏ ᴅᴇꜰᴛᴏɴᴇꜱ

0:01 ❍─────── 4:28

Volume: ▁▂▃▄▅▆▇ 100%

ᴘʀᴇᴠ | ꜰꜰꜰ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ɴᴇxᴛ

You were always full of nerves before your boyfriend’s band went on, especially when the previous band was finishing up their encore. Hanging out backstage was always hectic too, the venue’s employees running around like headless chickens in pursuit of completing the latest task their manager gave them, members of other bands and their entourages engaging in boisterous conversations, drinking, and doing drugs amongst themselves, their actions up to par with the touring lifestyle. It wasn’t until you ran into the guitarist of your boyfriend’s band, Hongjoong, that your nerves doubled, but for a different reason. 

“Y/N, there you are. Where have you been, huh?” Hongjoong greeted you with a hug, resting his solo cup against your lower back, his free hand moving down to your ass, squeezing it a few times through your skirt, sighing against your skin, his body relaxing against yours. “I missed my stress toy…” 

“Joong,” you whined, pushing gently at his leather bound chest, your hand almost getting tangled in one of his silver chained necklaces. “You always get so grabby before a show. What if Mingi sees?” 

Hongjoong rolled his eyes, leaning his face into your neck, alcohol on his breath. “You know he wants to see it. And it’s not my fault I can't keep my hands off you. Just look at you…” The buzzed guitarist gazed down at your body with hooded eyes, his jaw tightening up more and more the longer he pictured what you looked like folded up for him and taking everything he had to give. “You’d look so good underneath me, baby. Spread open all nice and wide…fuck….” 

“Joongie, please…” you whispered, squeezing your thighs together, pressing your back into the concrete wall behind you, feeling him press further into you as a result. 

“You can beg for me after the show, sweetheart. Just let me get a peek, okay?” Knowing he had you right where he wanted you, Hongjoong slowly ran a calloused finger along your jaw, down your neck to your rising chest, pleased with the way your breath hitched, his dark eyes flitting between your gaze and the slope of your bare tits through your thin white tank top, unable to resist pulling down the neckline of your top until he had a good view of your pebbled nipples. “Look at that. You’re just aching to be touched, aren’t you?” 

You were so wet, you could’ve sworn that you were about to drip all over the backstage floor, barely able to form any coherent words besides a small ‘yeah’, letting the perverted guitarist grab at your hips, his fingers pressing into your hip bones, a low groan leaving his lips. 

“Wanna fuck you, baby, wanna make you mine,” Hongjoong sighed into your ear, about to describe his needs in detail and put his hands all over you when Mingi came around the corner, a lollipop poking through his cheek, his ringed fingers rubbing at the mascara near his lash line. 

Mingi stopped in his tracks, towering over the both of you due to the studded boots he always wore during his shows. He studied you, noticing how flushed you were and how hard you were already breathing. He couldn’t help but to pull his sweet lollipop out to bite at his plump lip, his cock ready to come to life. “Oh? What’s this about, sugar?” 

“Babyy, there you are,” you greeted, bouncing on your heels, making grabby hands at your boyfriend. 

In return, Mingi lifted you up and spun you around in a tight hug, making sure to press a kiss to your cheek before putting you back down in front of his favorite bandmate. 

“Joongie’s being all needy again,” you giggled, leaning back against Hongjoong’s chest. 

“Can’t help it.” Hongjoong casually handed his drink to Mingi who took it and knocked it back, wrapping his arms around you from behind, leaning his head on your shoulder, a sickening smirk gracing his feline-like lips. “Hey, Minnie. Wanna make a bet?”

“What kind of bet?” Mingi licked at the corner of his salivating mouth, pulling at the crotch of his heavy, chained pants, his cock pressed against one of his thighs, growing harder just from seeing the way you fit perfectly inside his bandmate’s arms. Shit. 

“If I nail my guitar solo tonight, will you let me have Y/N for a night?” Hongjoong requested, nuzzling his face against your heated cheek, making a small pouty face at his dear bandmate. 

Mingi knew he shouldn’t be getting this worked up before a show, but it might make him perform better if he was thinking about how bad he wanted you, and how he couldn’t have you until Hongjoong did. He knew the odds of Hongjoong hitting every single note perfectly was a 50/50 chance. His chances were even lower if he had access to a bottle of jack that night, though Mingi was aware that his bandmate was quite skilled with his calloused fingers, only knowing because you wouldn’t shut up about it a few nights ago. 

The lead singer decided he would push all his chips onto the table, knowing he would have his darling to himself either way. You belonged to him, whether you were filled with another man’s load or not. “Sure, as long as you make sure my baby cums.” He sent a charming smile your way, bringing his hand up to caress your cheek, chuckling softly when you pressed a kiss to the side of his thumb, your lips making contact with the cold metal of his large skull ring. 

“Hear that, princess? Min wants me to have you,” Hongjoong purred into your ear from the other side. “And so do you, huh? Is that cunt of yours dripping already? I think we should have a litle peek...” Knowing all three of you would enjoy it, the guitarist snaked his hands around your waist from behind, lifting your skirt up for only Mingi to see, rubbing his rough fingers along your bare cunt.

“I-i heard,” you gasped, grasping at Mingi’s oversized sweater, your fingers going into one of the torn holes it had, leaning your head back against Hongjoong’s shoulder, trying not to make any noise when Mingi joined in, slipping two of his fingers into your pulsing cunt, the feeling of his rings stretching you out further making you jolt. 

“You know what I hear? How fucking wet you already are for us.” Hongjoong said into your ear, his digits rubbing roughly into your clit, his eyes on Mingi’s hooded ones, licking at his lips. “Your girlfriend is such a slut, Min. God, I love it.” 

“She loves it too,” Mingi replied in a gravelly voice,  stepping a little closer to cage you against Hongjoong, pushing the lollipop into your mouth to watch you suck on it. “But you still belong to me…Don’t you, baby?”

“Of course, Minnie. I’m only yours.” You nodded obediently up at him, crunching some of the lollipop in between your teeth when Mingi added another digit inside your tight hole, your thighs trembling slightly. 

“That’s my girl.” Your boyfriend gave you a pretty smile, pressing his hand against the wall near your head to further display his dominance over you, his eyes fixed on your submissive gaze, and the way you just let him fill you up with his thick fingers, his bandmate’s fingers still working you clit like he would would a six string. “Fuck…you’re so sexy like this, baby…” 

“Try not to blow your load before the show,” Hongjoong mused, his smirk growing more and more reminiscent of the Cheshire Cat’s. He was about to tease Mingi more when the previous band sang their last angsty lyric and shredded their remaining guitar notes, silence filling up the air for only a moment, before there was an immediate uproar of rowdy cheers and shouts from the pumped up crowd. 

Your boyfriend’s band was up next and you couldn’t wait to watch them from the sidelines, ready to catch their occasional hungry glances, knowing they were ready to tear you apart once they finished their heavy, energy filled set. 

Mingi delivered as usual, showing off his impressive duality, going from spitting quick, head-turning bars with a devilish smirk on his sweaty face, to expressing emotional, thought provoking lyrics with a soft, expressive voice that would have anyone shedding a tear, his face contorted in melancholic concentration, his hands wrapped tightly around his mic, his dominating stage presence alone having the entire venue in a chokehold throughout the entire set. 

Hongjoong arguably delivered just as well, consistently shredding notes on his sleek guitar with a borderline psychotic look in his eyes and a heinous grin that would make the Devil himself blush, working his rough, agile fingers song after heavy song, never failing to provide Mingi with his own unique back-up vocals. And just like clockwork, despite being a bit tipsy and high on some kind of illegal drug, Hongjoong captivated the large audience with his infamous guitar solo, making everybody in the crowd cream themselves with his nasty riffs. All Hongjoong could do after was push back his sweaty hair and send Mingi a shit-eating smirk, that was returned with a soft chuckle and head shake. He made sure to give you a look too, though this time he had his fingers held up in a V, his pierced tongue sticking out in between them. 

You were in for a busy night. 

࿏࿏࿏

“Hey, eyes on me, baby…” Hongjoong commanded in a low whisper from below you, sitting comfortably on his knees, using his thumbs to keep your cunt spread open for him, watching you writhe around against the wall of the spacious hotel shower, beads of water dripping through his damp bangs and past his smudged eyeliner, pooling in the crevices of his collar bone, the rest trickling down along his dangling necklaces. 

He had easily coaxed you inside his hotel room, not having to do much to get you in his shower, claiming he needed to cool down after giving it his all during the show — though he still made sure to give you his all during your own private show, using his calloused, dexterous fingers to play with your body, delighted with the pretty, wanton sounds he created, wanting nothing more than to write a song about how delicious you looked in that moment — flushed, transfixed on his pierced tongue lapping at your throbbing clit, and moaning out the little pet name you gave him. 

“That’s it….” The side of his lips quirked up a bit at the pout you gave him, before he pursed them and sent a wad of spit directly into you, pushing two fingers back inside you to rub it around your tight, pulsing walls. “I love when you look at me like that.”

“Like what, Joong?” you breathed out, running your fingers through his wet hair, gripping the sides of his head, your thighs beginning to feel like jelly from the way Hongjoong was finger-fucking you into ecstasy. 

“Like you want my cock,” he sighed, unable to keep himself from diving back into your cunt, lapping at your clit and slit like a pussydrunk maniac, easily slipping a third finger inside you. 

“I do…! I need your cock, Joongie, please,” you moaned out, so close to your high that you began to push his face into your cunt, rubbing it against his moving tongue, his piercing repeatedly catching on your clit, driving more pleasured moans out of you, neither of you aware in that moment that your dear perverted boyfriend sat on the other side of the wall, standing fully clothed in his own shower and jerking himself off with fervid desperation, his jeans hanging loosely around his jolting hips. 

“You’ll have it, baby, I promise. Cum on my tongue first,” he said with his lips against your soaked cunt, curling his fingers and rubbing at the gummy spot inside you, sending you over the edge, sticking his tongue out to catch your arousal on it, his cock throbbing at the sound of his name mixed with swears being cried out by his bandmate’s pretty girlfriend. 

Soon, you grew docile and dazed, wrapping your limbs around him as soon as he stood up and carried you over to his bed, not wasting any time sending a few drops of spit down onto your hot cunt and plugging it up with his thick cock. 

Mingi felt like he was going to melt, his brain and body going into overdrive over the fact that his beloved bandmate was busy putting a baby in his baby, making her feel so good she was starting to cry, his cock throbbing inside his closed fist, listening closely to the pants and moans that made their way into his pierced, attentive ears, along with the incessant creaking of the mattress springs — though the disruptive banging sounds of the wooden bedframe hitting the thin wall contended for Mingi’s attention as well. 

“Joong..! It’s so good, you’re so good,” he heard you whine out in a broken voice, not hearing the rest of your cries due to Hongjoong stuffing two fingers into your willing mouth. Mingi couldn’t help but want to drown in his sin, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. 

You looked to your phone with half-closed eyes, watching the way it buzzed against the moving mattress, your legs suddenly getting closer to your body, Hongjoong lifting your lower half up to fuck into you even deeper than before, rendering you speechless from the pressure of his heated body on yours. 

“Answer it, baby,” Hongjoong huffed from above you, his necklaces dragging along your flushed skin with each sloppy thrust, blowing a bit of wet hair out of his half-lidded eyes. 

“Mingi,” you sighed into the receiver, trying to catch your breath, knowing you were on the edge of ecstasy with the way your body was starting to feel heavy, despite the feeling like you were ready to float away. “I’m gonna cum, baby, it– aaah, oh my god…!”

“Cum for me, princess. Let me hear how pretty you sound cumming on his cock,” Mingi moaned back, squeezing his hand around his length, his eyes ready to roll underneath his eyelids. 

Hongjoong put his entire body weight onto you, his lips sliding across your neck to leave a few marks, his cock throbbing against your tight inner walls, pounding into you a few more times before he painted them white. “M’ cumming inside your girl, Minnie, it’s feel so fucking good…”

It was when Hongjoong bit down onto your neck that you catapulted over the edge, grabbing at the guitarist’s bare back, digging your nails into his skin. “Mingiii, he’s filling me up…it won’t stop…”

“Oh god, baby, oh my god.” Mingi huffed and huffed, his entire body tensing up as he drove himself over the edge right after you, splashes of cum landing on his rapidly rising chest and abdomen. 

You simply laid there making small squeaks from the aftershocks of your orgasm, while Hongjoong stayed put inside you, his soft, deflated cock suddenly twitching with newfound interest, a light bulb appearing inside his hazy brain. “Min, I want you to come over here. You need to see the mess I made inside your girlfriend…”

And just like that, Mingi made his way over to the next door hotel room, fumbling with his loose pants and the doorknob, wiggling till it unlocked. He kicked his jeans off once inside the half-lit room, climbing onto the bed to join the both of you, having the same intensely horny, almost deranged look in his eye that he usually had before a show. 

“Baby, look,” you sighed out, spreading your thighs open, while Hongjoong pulled out inch by inch, until a flood of creamy white liquid bubbled out of your pulsing hole, dripping down your thighs and onto the already damp mattress below. 

Before Mingi could properly access the arousing situation, drool falling from his moaning mouth, Hongjoong suddenly grabbed him by the hair, pushing his head down in between your legs. “You wanna clean it up, don’t you, Minnie? Come on, be a good boy and lick up the mess I left inside her.” 

Blushing, Mingi lapped at the mess of cum and slick, using his fingers to scoop the rest out into his eager mouth, Hongjoong’s hand still pressing his face further into your used cunt, eventually letting go when he started to go at it, watching his bandmate’s tongue swipe at your clit and slit. Mingi didn’t even seem to notice, too busy drowning in his baby’s sweet cunt to have any awareness, his hands clutching your trembling thighs. 

“Gonna cum again,” you whined out, unable to speak when your boyfriend suddenly lifted his fingers up to your mouth to suck on them, his lips sucking around your sensitive clit, his dark, glazed over eyes focused solely on the way you seemed to completely fall apart in front of his and his best friend. 

“Think you can get her to squirt?” Hongjoong asked from beside him, resting one of his hands on your moving thighs, holding it down so that you couldn’t close them. 

Mingi glanced over at Hongjoong, rolling his mascara-smudged eyes, knowing exactly what to do to make his baby feel so good she sobbed. He pulled his fingers out of your mouth, instead pushing three of them inside you, curling them up until you cried out. With his other hand, he forcefully pushed Hongjoong’s head down onto your cunt next. “Lick,” he commanded gruffly, concentrating solely on fucking you into ecstasy with his thick fingers. 

Moaning against your cunt, Hongjoong lapped and nibbled on your throbbing clit, his cold piercing dragging over your sensitive flesh, feeling his bandmate’s fingers tugging at his hair, eliciting another muffled moan from him. 

“Bite it. Bite her clit and make her cum,” Mingi demanded through gritted teeth, working your cunt like he always did, enjoying the sight of you writhing around, unable to speak or think, knowing his pretty baby was experiencing some of the best pleasure of her life thanks to him and his friend. 

It was when Hongjoong bit down and moved your clit in between his teeth, Mingi’s fingers still moving relentlessly inside your clenching cunt, that you screamed, your boyfriend’s slick-covered fingers going back into your mouth to keep you from waking up everyone else in the hotel. Both bandmates watched as a small fountain of liquid squirted from your pulsing cunt, seeping into the mattress and turning it dark. 

A few moments of silence went by, before Hongjoong gave Mingi a sickening smile. “Bet you can’t get her to do that with your cock.” 

Mingi shook his head, blowing his wet bangs out of his eyes. “Of course I can. She’s my baby. I know her body like the back of my hand. I’ll make her drench the both of us.”

Hongjoong giggled softly, tilting his head to the side, his eyes flitting from you to Mingi. “Wanna make a bet?” 

You were definitely in for a long night. 

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© kitten4sannie, 2024.

[reidmania]

ILL ALWAYS COME GET YOU | SPENCER REID

description ;

Drinking your feelings after a bad day isn’t always a great idea, good thing your boyfriend, Spencer will always come get you.

Warnings ;

Fluff, slight angst but nothing crazy I dont think there is any gender mentioned, but let me know if there is, Mentions alcohol consumption, bad day at work, crying, basically spencer just comforting the fuck out of drunk reader. I think thats it.

a/n ;

i need spencer reid to comfort me when im drunk. NOT MY GIF!!

There was heavy blows of cold air that passed through the streets, the ones which were only being lit by the half broken street lights on every corner.

You could hear the faint sound of the music playing inside the bar that you had just stumbled out of, mixed with the cars driving past on the street. After maybe 5 drinks too many, everything was a little bit blurry, everything sort of sounded the same all at once.

Shaky hands reached for the phone that was buried somewhere in your big jacket pockets. The jacket was big and warm — not enough to shield you from the cold air.

Was it a smart decision to go to the bar and drink your body weight in alcohol — no, but emotional and stressed, you weren’t completely thinking straight when leaving work at merely 5pm, it had been hours, nearing 11.

It was meant to just be a couple of drinks to take the pressure off, then when the bartender asked you if you were okay, and the tear-flood started, every drink after that was a no brainer, soon enough you had enough to no longer worry about the damage the amount of alcohol you were consuming would do to your bank account.

Your hands fumbled with your phone, grateful for face ID since you doubted you would be coordinated enough to type your password without messing it up countless times and ending up locking yourself out of it.

It was a slight struggle trying to press on your contacts, when a few — probably just as drunk people, walked out of the bar behind you, reminding you that you were still stood in the doorway. After you shuffled over slightly, now out of the way. Your eyes stared at Spencer’s contact through blurry vision, considering whether or not it was worth calling — He was still working when you last spoke, maybe he was still at the office, busy, or better yet in bed asleep.

After a small sigh left your lips, the warm air from your mouth contradicting the cold air on the streets, a stem of steam followed your breath, which you found fascinating in your drunken state for a moment, before your attention was pulled back to your phone by the ringing sound.

Seeing Spencer’s contact light up your phone brought a small smile to your sad face, you were quick to answer, yet it took a minute to realise you had to put your phone to your ear.

“Hello?” You heard Spencers voice, softening a piece of your chest slightly. You assumed maybe he had been saying hello for the few seconds it had taken for you to pull your phone to your ear.

“Hi” You muttered back, drunk feet shuffling slightly as your words slurred. There were a few people still wandering around, going in and out of the bar, talking to each other or giving you strange looks which would’ve made you a little more insecure if the alcohol didn’t influence that part of your mind.

“Hey angel.” Spencer said, letting out a soft sigh of relief hearing your voice. “Where are you? You aren’t home” He said, voice itching with slight concern.

Your lips parted as you realised he had come home and you weren’t there — which would’ve been confusing because he knew you finished work hours ago, maybe you should have told him beforehand that you were planning on drinking your feelings in tequila shots.

“Im drunk” You said, not quite processing the question you had been asked.

You could hear Spencer chuckle on the other side of the phone, “I can tell baby, Where are you?” He asked, his voice was so soft and gentle, it almost made you emotional.

“Um” You hummed, spinning on your heels which only caused you to stumble slightly over your phone feet as you looked at the bar, which had its name written across the top, only that was a bit harder to read within your blurry vision.

“I dont know.” You pouted slightly, “That one bar” You muttered, hoping maybe he would know the exact one you were talking about. You assumed he would — it was the closest bar to your shared home, and the one you two went most often.

“Yeah?” He muttered, you nodded. Yet he couldn’t see that. There was a sound of slight shuffling on the other side of the phone, before you heard a door open and shut.

“I don’t think I can drive” You frowned as you looked around to try and find where your car was parked, you had come straight after work.

Spencer chuckled again. The sound was so comforting to you in your drunken state. Maybe it was silly how it made your downturned lips shift upwards into almost a smile.

“Im gonna pick you up, Angel. Just stay where you are for me okay?” He said. You heard another door open and close, which you assumed was his own car door. You hummed softly in agreement.

For the course of the next few minutes there was no conversation had between the two of you, you sat silently watching the cars on the street, while Spencer drove the few minutes down the road to the bar.

Soon the call ended, leaving you to frown as you stared at the phone, seeing it go back to where it was before you answered the call — on his contact. Before you even got the chance to call him back and cry about how rude it was for him to hang up on you like that, you heard your name being called.

Your head turned to the sound of his voice. He was standing there — still in his work clothes, making your frown only deepen, he hadn’t even had the chance to relax or change before he had to come pick you up.

“Hey baby” He cooed, taking your face in his hands as stood in front of you, taking in your puffy eyes and flushed cheeks. His thumb rubbed soothingly over the soft skin on your face.

You subconsciously leaned into the touch of his warm hands as you looked up at him, “You’re here” You said, sighing softly as you relished the warmth his body radiated.

He nodded, “Of course Im here. You wanna get home? You’re freezing.” He said, shaking his head softly, moving his hands from your face to your hands — which were seemingly colder.

You nodded wordlessly, he took that and wrapped his arm gently around your waist, leading you to his car. You tried not to stumble but it wasn’t working, without Spencer there holding your body tightly against his own you probably would’ve already fallen flat on your face. If he noticed your stumbling — he didn’t say anything.

He helped you into the passenger seat, before leaning over you slightly to pull your seatbelt on, despite your best efforts to do it yourself.

“But my car—” You muttered, sitting up a bit straighter as the realisation dawned on you that your car would be left here, your head turned slightly as the passenger seat door closed, Spencer didn’t say anything, before walking over to the drivers seat.

He got in. He must of noticed your distressed eyes staring at him when he looked over at you, pulling his own seatbelt on. “Your car is fine honey, we can come get it in the morning.”

You chewed at your lip as you looked down, nodding wordlessly at his solution. He drove without saying anything, but his hand sat warmly ontop of your thigh, thumb rubbing up and down gently as your head laid back against the head rest.

When you arrived outside your shared home, Spencer was quick by your side helping you out of the car and into the house, where he sat you down on the couch. The house was warm, which lead you to believe he had turned the heater on when he got home — or before he left to pick you up.

He returned to the living room with a large glass of water. “Drink” He hummed, handing you the glass. His hand stayed holding it till he was sure you had it tight in your grasp.

You nodded, taking a few small sips of it, before lowering it slightly. He shook his head dismissively, “All of it, Honey.” He said, two of his fingers brushing under the glass, encouraging it back up towards your lips.

You sighed, before obeying. Taking a few larger sips of water before the glass grew empty. Spencer hummed approvingly, taking the glass from your hands; standing up.

“Where are you going?” You pouted, looking up at him with a small hitch in your eyebrows. You could feel the heat blowing down from the ceilings, onto your bare legs.

Spencer paused in his movements, giving you a soft smile as he noticed your concern — as if you believed maybe he was leaving. “Getting you more water” He said.

“Spence.” Your tone was warning, dismissive of the idea of having to drink another large glass of water. He just continued walking to the kitchen. You heard the tap turn on and off before he returned, placing the glass on the coffee table in front of you rather than in your hands.

“You don’t have to drink this one all in one, you can just sip it” He said, before taking a seat next to you again, watching your head nod up and down softly.

You chewed at your lip, avoiding his gaze as even in your drunken state, your mind couldn’t seem to stop working over time — which was what got you in this position in the first place.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asked softly, his body turning more towards your own. You looked up at him for a moment. It was a dangerous question he was asking, especially in your current state.

“I don’t know” You shrugged. It was the best you could muster up without spilling every little doubt in your mind. You didn’t know. You guessed that drinking your emotions automatically meant you weren’t okay, but it wasn’t like you were dying, or anything you wouldn’t get over.

Spencer sighed, a frown tugging at his lips as he watched you in your own world, living in your head. He knew you did this — overthought everything, worked yourself up.

“Why did you drink?” He asked, realising this may get more of an answer out of you to what was actually the matter — what the cause of your drunken state was.

You leant into his shoulder slightly, head resting on his chest, under his chin. His arm wasted no time wrapping around you shoulder, only pulling you in closer.

Your voice was quiet, words still slight slurred as you spoke — but they had been the whole time. “Work sucked” Your voice was barley audible — Your boyfriend would’ve missed it if he hadn’t been paying you his full attention.

That was a rare occasion anyways.

“Why didn’t you call me baby?” He asked, hand rubbing soothingly over your clothed arm. You were quiet for a moment as you felt the tears reoccur in the back of your eyes. It seemed they had been there all day.

You shrugged, only making his frown deepen. He realised quickly — talking about it was not what you needed right now, what you did need in this moment — he was unsure of.

So he asked; “What do you need honey?”

You felt a hot tear against your cheek at the question. You were quick to wipe it away, a shaky breath leaving your lips.

“Can you just hold me?” You asked, he could hear the sadness in your voice, the need and desperation for some sort of comfort.

He places a gentle kiss to the top of your head, humming in response. “Course I can. Do you want to go change? Get into bed?” He asked softly, pulling you slightly away from his chest to look at your face, his own falling slightly as he noticed the big wet tears on your cheeks.

You nodded as a soft sob rippled from your throat, making his frown deepen. His thumb was instantly wiping your eyes softly. “Oh sweetheart” He cooed at your sad eyes. “Come on, lets go to bed”

Before you could even move to stand, his arms were around your waist, lifting you up gently. His hands holding you close to his chest as he walked to your shared bed room.

The entire way he was muttering sweet nothings into your ear, reminding you that everything was okay, that he loved you.

He placed you gently on the bed as he walked towards the wardrobe, He changed himself quickly into his pyjamas, any other time you would’ve cooed and adored the way he looked.

“Your clothes or mine?” He asked. It wasn’t an uncommon question, sometimes after showing together he would ask you if you wanted to wear his clothes or your own. It was a cute nothing.

“Yours.” You muttered, hand pulling to brush strands of hair out of your face as you watched him nod, grabbing out a pair of your own sweatpants, his t-shirt, and your favourite hoodie of his.

It was funny at first when you discovered he actually owned hoodies.

He was by your side moments later, gently pulling the big coat off your shoulders, before undressing you from the business attire you had been wearing all day, helping you into the clothes he had brought out for you.

Only minutes later your head was resting against his chest — the tears had officially stopped, his arms wrapped around you as your legs intertwined with his.

“Take the day off tomorrow” He whispered softly into your hair. You could feel the alcohol slowly processing away, not enough to be sober but enough to be a little more there.

You would’ve argued any other time, but you just nodded against his chest, before leaning away slightly, reaching over to grab your phone from where Spencer had plugged it in on your beside table.

He chuckled, grabbing your arm, “Tomorrow baby, not now.” He said softly.

You again didn’t argue, returning to your position before, hand scrunching into the fabric of Spencer’s pyjama top gently. “Thank you for coming to get me” You muttered tiredly as your eyes closed, breathing in his scent that only soothed every muscle in your body.

“I’ll always come get you.”

[taesanrot]

[heavy] sunghoon x f!reader | 2.1k words exes to lovers, second chance, angst syn. ever since you broke up with your long term boyfriend, park sunghoon, he's been heavy on your mind. foolishly, you try to move on, but seeing him at a party reminds you why you can't let him go. note. i've been wanting to start a series based on songs i've been listening to recently! this is the second and hopefully not last fic in this collection lol. also this was kinda supposed to be a implied college au but im now realizing the setting is kinda vague so imagine it as you like :)

now playing: heavy by the marías

"cause i don't wanna be in love with another, even in another life."

sipping your drink, you wished so dearly to drown out the memories that played in your head like a broken record.

you were fine. everything was fine. you told yourself what you told everyone.

you were done with park sunghoon. it was for the better.

but even the loud drunken screams from your friends and the even louder music at this party couldn't make the words in your head stop playing over and over. you closed your eyes and tilted your face to the ceiling.

...

"let's go our separate ways." your emotionless voice contrasted with your tear streaked cheeks.

"y/n, what? what do you mean?" sunghoon's voice shook with confusion.

"i mean, let's break up."

"break up? baby i'm not breaking up with you over this." he stepped forward to grab your hand but you just crossed them in front of your chest.

"i'm tired of fighting! we're clearly not right for each other." your voice almost broke at the end, making sunghoon want to cry.

"couples fight all the time, you know we've both been really stressed lately, let's talk about this another time. when we're both feeling better." he tried and tried to reason with you, but your mind was set, and both of you knew that.

...

you felt stupid, then and now. it had been one month since you'd last seen your ex boyfriend, and you were a wreck. foolishly, you'd blamed everything going wrong on him, thinking that getting rid of your relationship would alleviate your stress. but sunghoon left a gaping hole in you, and suddenly it was like you were frozen.

the pain was unbearable, bu you were stubborn. you kept your head up, moving through night and day. you were a shell of yourself, but you were still standing.

you began to go out, your friends dragging you out of your apartment in an effort to cheer you up.

you tried and tried to move on. but talking to other guys made you feel sick. they didn't have his fluffy hair, his cute and pointy smile, or his pretty voice.

tonight was the same, you nursed a drink in your arms as you tried to forget everything.

"what are you thinking about, pretty?" you opened your eyes, nearly dropping your drink in shock as you turned towards the voice. you were face to face with a taller boy. he had dark hair and even darker eyes.

"nothing." you weren't going to get into your ex with a random guy at a party.

"i'm jisung, by the way." you smiled slightly as he introduced himself, trying to be polite. he seemed sweet enough, but you wished you were doing anything but talking to a flirty guy right now.

"i'm y/n." you replied, struggling to maintain your sanity and composure with the alcohol flowing in your veins. you kept up conversation for a bit longer, making an excuse that your friend was sick so you could finally make your escape.

finding your best friend, yunah, you tapped her shoulder to get her attention away from the music.

"y/n? what's up?" she grabbed your hand as she spoke, swinging it back and forth drunkenly. you smiled, gesturing to the back door.

"gonna go sit outside, need some air." she nodded and waved as you walked away.

what neither of you saw was sunghoon. he'd arrived not more than 15 minutes ago, with his friends jake and heeseung.

"dude, is that who i think it is?" jake blurted the moment they walked through the door. the 3 boys watched you talk to some taller guy with dark blue hair. sunghoon wished he didn't care, but truthfully he couldn't look away.

you were beautiful, wrapped in a black dress. you always looked angelic to him, always making his stomach burst with butterflies.

looking at you right now, his stomach was burning with a different emotion. he was green with envy watching another guy flirt with you when you should've been with him. the only thing that quelled his dread was the look on your face. he could see from miles away how uncomfortable you were, arms crossed tensely and face painted with a fake smile, one that didn't reach your eyes.

sunghoon wanted to be a respectful ex-boyfriend. he didn't contact you. he gave you your space after your breakup, even though he knew how stupid your fight was. he loved you, enough to respect what you wanted.

but watching you duck away from the blue haired boy and walk out the back door, sunghoon couldn't stop himself. he downed the rest of his drink, wincing at the burning feeling his throat before pushing through the crowd to get to the back door.

the night air soothed the growing dread within you a bit, but you were still left with a nauseating feeling. the same one you always felt when you talked to guys that weren't him.

slumping against the fence, you held your head in your hands, combing your fingers through your hair roughly. dizzily, you crouched on the ground, wishing you could just disappear. or even better, teleport to your bed.

“y/n?” your reaction was delayed as you slowly searched for the source of the voice.

in all his glory, park sunghoon stood before you, looking down at your crouched figure with concern.

“god, sunghoon. what are you doing here?” you groaned, sincerely wishing you were just hallucinating all of this. wishing that the first time you were seeing your ex boyfriend since the breakup wasn’t when you were a drunken mess.

god, today was seriously the worst.

crouching next to you, he reached out a hand to move some of your hair from your face. he leaned in front of you so he could see your face, while you stubbornly trained your eyes at the ground.

you were scared that if you even made eye contact with him for too long, everything would fall apart.

“are you okay? how much did you drink?” he spoke softly, his voice melting in your ears and warming your chest.

you wanted to cry, throat tightening at the feeling of him doting on you. you didn’t say anything, just nodding.

sunghoon could tell you didn’t want to be there just as much as he didn’t. normally, on a night like this, the two of you would be watching a movie together or baking or just laying in his bed and scrolling through one of your phones.

“do you wanna leave?” he asked, hand falling onto your shoulder and rubbing small circles. you nodded again, pushing your hands on the ground to stand up. you didn’t let sunghoon help you as he stood up, stumbling slightly as you stood up fully.

as the two of your walked out the back entrance, you looked at the boy in confusion as he began walking in the same direction as you.

“i’m not leaving you alone out here, let me make sure you get home.” you looked back at the ground, mumbling back a small okay and thank you, trying to ignore the words threatening to spill from your lips.

the walk to your apartment was filled with a thick silence, the only audible noises being the hum of the streetlights. A rough gust of wind caused your skin to fill with goosebumps, the cold breeze hugging your frame.

sunghoon noticed, almost quicker than you did. wordlessly, he dropped his leather jacket over your shoulders. you knew you should protest, but to be truthful, you missed him more now than ever.

when you didn't say anything or move at all, sunghoon stepped in front of you, gently unwrapping your arms and putting them into the sleeves of his jacket for you.

you stared at the cracked sidewalk, heavy tears threatening to fall from your eyes. his jacket was warm, and so big that you were practically swimming in it. his hands were warm too. and so was his voice, as he softly asked you if you were feeling less chilly.

you still refused to utter a word, not out of stubbornness but out of fear that your voice would betray you. after everything you did, after how bad you hurt him, sunghoon was still here, walking you home and taking care of you like he always did. like nothing had changed.

"y/n." sunghoon spoke a little louder, tilting your chin up so you looked him in the eye. "i said are you cold?"

the end of his question died in the back of his throat as your teary eyes came into view. he dropped his hand, eyebrows furrowing with worry.

"hey, hey, what happened?" his voice instantly softened. you couldn't do anything but shake your head, the tears finally trailing down your cheeks. sunghoon's thumb made contact with your cold cheek, wiping away the tears as the fell.

"y/n, please, tell me what's wrong." he almost sounded defeated, voice laced with concern that made you want the earth to swallow you whole. your chest ached.

"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry, hoon." his head tilted in confusion at your apologies. he opened his mouth to respond.

"why are you apologizing?" you sniffled, tears still wetting your pink cheeks.

"im so stupid. i pushed you away because i just hated fighting and i thought that was the only way to make things better. but i can't-" you voice broke slightly and you took a second to breathe in. your eyes were screwed shut, refusing to look at sunghoon.

"i can't see myself with anyone else. i don't want to see myself with anyone else. any guy i talk to i just compare to you and it makes me feel sick. i know i can't but i've been trying so hard to move on because i'm scared that you hate me for hurting you and being so dumb." when you slowly opened your eyes, sunghoon pulled you into his chest.

your cheek was pressed against his white shirt, tears wetting the fabric as he held you tightly. he shoved his face into your hair, breathing in and relishing the feeling of you in his arms again.

"sunghoon?" you asked, voice muffled by his chest.

"i could never hate you." he mumbled into your hair. he pulled away and you saw him smiling, eyes crinkling as he tucked a strand of your hair away and wiped the last of your tears. your nose and cheeks were red both from the cold and from crying; sunghoon thought you looked adorable.

"for the past month haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. about us. how i should’ve fought harder to make you stay.” he laughed dryly as he spoke. “the only reason i even went to that party was because i might get to see you again.”

more than anything, it warmed sunghoon’s heart to see how much you still cared for him. all this time he was scared he was the only one still hung up on your relationship.

“i love you so much, i don’t care if we fight or if we go through a few rough patches. i only want you.” his voice softened slightly and he looked at you like you were the only two people in the world.

“you’re not mad at me?” you mumbled, hand crinkling the fabric of his tshirt as you clutched his side. shaking his head, he grinned.

“why would i be? you came back to me.” you smiled for what felt like the first time that night, hand instinctively covering your face. sunghoon pulled your hand down, wanting to see your shy smile. he loved when you were like this, shy and bashful. it made his heart nearly explode in his chest.

“can i kiss you?” he asked, intertwining your hands. you nodded gently, closing your eyes as sunghoon leant closer to you.

his lips were warm and soft, just like you remembered. your mouths fit together like puzzle pieces, molding to each other perfectly. sunghoon’s arms slipped under his jacket that you were still wearing, hands wrapping around your bare waist.

you were flush against his chest, feeling his heartbeat against your skin and his teeth sink into your bottom lip. as your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, you swore to yourself that you’d never let park sunghoon go again.

[xeeljii]

IM YR DOG

I am here to be yours I don't want you to hurt

WARNING! Explicit RPF! 

Summary: Joost hasn’t been in a real relationship in a long while and when his first anniversary with you rolls around he fucks up royally. 

Word count: 7,4k

CW: 18+, f! reader, no pronouns used for reader, angst but happy ending, established relationship, make up sex, premature ejaculation is romantic lol, multiple orgasms, shower sex.

IMPORTANT A/N! I usually write with an older/current age Joost in mind but this one feels more early 20s type so just keep that in mind. 

Joost was finishing up his album, it was chaos and you had almost not seen each other in the week, texting sparingly and only ever feeling his presence when you got back from work and saw more of his clothes had disappeared and new ones appeared in the hamper, it was a storm brewing with both of you blissfully unaware. He hadn’t been sleeping much or at all, totally engrossed in his work, he gives you shit about your dedication to yours but he is the real workaholic, once he gets an idea can't stop until it is finished, even forgetting to eat or what day it is. Speaking of days, today was Saturday, also your anniversary. He had a reservation for a table at your favorite restaurant, had already planned every step of the day and the evening months ahead, like it was the world cup final and yet today of all days he didn’t text you at all. You assume that he must be in the studio finishing up something, and you would just meet up at the restaurant at six like you had planned. 

However his brain was completely fried, overworked to exhaustion, the blinds of the studio pulled down to concentrate and phone thrown around somewhere in silence because he just NEEDED to get this las song done. He doesn’t know when the last time he had a proper meal was or what time of the day it was but when he finishes the song that had been driving him crazy for three days straight he feels he can final breath in relief. The tension in the studio had been palpable for a few days now but when he yells “Done!” triumphantly everyone feels at ease again.

“I think I need a drink or a few.” Someone suggests and everyone follows with jovial moods. 

Joost is so tired but just wants to let loose for what feels like the first time in forever. The group ends up at someone’s house, alcohol starts being poured and the music is loud enough to deafen, someone’s neighbors will complain surely but right now as Joost sits on the couch finally able to not think about the album anymore he couldn’t care less. He just relaxes, drinks and smokes like it is his last night on earth and laughs with his friends until his stomach hurts.  

You on the other side are sitting alone in a fancy restaurant table. You stay there far longer than you should, you text him and try to call him insistently but no luck. Did he get in accident? After an hour you start getting scared and desperate but don’t want to move in case he actually comes. You are a beautiful statue of nerves and anxiety glued to the table dumbly waiting for someone who isn’t coming. By the second hour you check your phone again, no reply but then you open instagram and see someone had posted a picture with his recognizable figure on the background, on closer inspection you can see cans of beer thrown around and bottles of liquor decorating every corner of the place. You feel as if a cold bucket of water has been dropped on your head. Your palms start sweating, you are holding onto the phone painfully thigh, you feel like everyone is watching you, like every couple in the restaurant is judging you and feeling pity for how stupid you are. You can’t stand it anymore and you stand from the table as gracefully as you can, feeling cold anger burn inside you, you pay for your drinks and get a taxi home. You are silently fuming and can’t stop the angry tears from falling from your eyes that you are wiping away furiously with your trembling hands.

Right after you enter your shared apartment and kick off your shoes you hear the door open again, there are heavy steps almost stumbling up to the living room before he sees you.

“Hi liefde.” He is smiling so widely, oblivious to your inner turmoil and just happy to see you in what has been way too long, he tries walking up to you but you move out of his way quickly.

You notice the stumble on his step and the smell reaches you, he is completely wasted. He tries to get his balance again resting his elbow on the kitchen counter and looking up at you. He wolf whistles or does his best attempt at it in the state he is in.

“You look so are pretty schat, did you have dinner with your friends?” His eyes are unfocused and half lidded it all makes to enrage you even more.

“I don’t know Joost, did you have drinks with yours?” You say venom dripping from every word and if he wasn't so intoxicated maybe he would notice, but instead he replies happily. 

“Yeah! We finished the album!” He tries to grab hold of you and pull you into a hug but again you avoid him, shaking the grab of his hand from your wrist.

“You reek.” You say walking away from him to get a glass of water.

He is a little confused now but he has missed you so much he just wants a little kiss. “Yeah sorry.” he smiles sheepishly rubbing a hand through his messy hair but you don’t even look up, your back facing him. 

“Liefde~” he purrs, his arms reach at your hips from behind, he pulls himself closer, wraps his strong arms around your middle and rest his head against the top of yours. “I missed you baby.” You don’t reply, don’t move at all, it is like you are barely breathing.

His brain is trying to catch up with what is happening, you would usually do something to hold him back, rest your hands against his or at least hum in acknowledgment if you are busy, but now in his arms it feels like he is holding at a cold marble statue. He is starting to panic a little, trying to remember something he did wrong and coming on empty handed. He waits a long moment before opening his mouth again.

“Wait did I forget to empty the dishwasher?” He asks timidly.

Unbelievable, he doesn’t even know it, doesn’t even remember, you had spent hours getting ready for a guy who stood you up to go drinking and doesn’t even know. You feel so stupid, in a second start second guessing every moment of your relationship, every tender word, every decision that got you to this place.

“I don’t know Joost, if it is so unimportant then maybe it isn’t worth your worry.” You reply almost in a whisper, your voice cracks in the last part.

You are angry but even more you are sad, you feel dumb and out of place in his life, all the little insecurities you had been carrying around come back with a vengeance to kick you when you are down. You doubt of the place you even have in his heart, the embrace of his arms feels fake rather than welcoming and you just push him away to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling.

You feel tears start to form at your waterline again, your heart feels heavy and you can barely breath in. You start to walk away. 

When he fells you step away from his arms a cold fear goes straight up his spine. “Baby…” He calls out, panic clear in his tone.

You turn on your feet, defeated faced covered in tears. “It was our anniversary” You say, looking at him.

He looks paralyzed for a second and then you see the exact moment the words make sense in his head. “I didn’t-I forgot- we were gonna go to that place - oh fuck liefde.” He is stumbling all over his words, he makes a move to reach you but you lash out again, he has no right to be acting like this when he was the on that left you all alone.

“I was alone in that restaurant for hours! I kept texting and calling you like an idiot thinking you would show up thinking oh he wouldn’t forget me here, right? Everyone was looking at me like I am dumb and maybe I fucking am because why am I even with someone who can’t be bother to show up and instead goes get fucking wasted on OUR ANNIVERSARY!” Your throat feels raw with every word, you are screaming on his face, the anger and sadness boil into something vicious you want to hurt him, want to make him feel the same way you felt, it is an awful thing that you can’t stop.

“I am sorry liefde, please.”

You can’t stand to see his face right now, turn around and start walking to the bedroom. You want to get undressed quickly, get out of the stupid clothes he bought you and the stupid lingerie you had bought to match them, you wanted to surprise him but he ended up being the one to surprise you in the worst way possible. You feel so pathetic and small it is making you start to itch.

“Baby please look at me.” He keeps walking quickly behind you, doesn’t know what to say or what to do that will make you feel better “I will make it up to you, I promise.” He grabs at your wrist but you quickly pull away again almost painfully. 

“Oh you promise? Well we have both have seen how much you care about your promises.” Your sarcastic tone cuts right through his heart. He looks hurt by that. 

He is not used to anniversaries or birthdays or really keeping track of the year on events, he goes with the flow of things and that is exactly what you like about him but now it feels like he just doesn’t care about you and that thought is scary, it makes you feel completely unimportant like the old kettle on his kitchen or the forgotten old clothes at the back of the closet, it makes you mean.

“Schat, please, let's talk.” Every pet name feels like another slap.

It is your first anniversary together, he had been so excited, he wanted to make you happy and yet here you were angry and hurt all because of him, he didn’t want you to remember your first like this and all of a sudden he worries this would be the only anniversary he would get with you.

“Shut the fuck up! I don’t want to hear you, I don’t want to see you right now. Go sleep on the couch or get out and go drinking I don’t give a fuck, just leave me alone!”  You walk quickly into your shared room that right now feels like prison and close the door with a loud bang after you. 

The shared apartment that is usually filled with music and laughter is now in complete silence, it feels cold and empty, the air is thick with tension and the only sounds are of the clock on the wall that you had bought and the dripping from the faucet on the kitchen that he had forgotten to fix. He stands in the middle of the living room unable to move, he wants to cry, wants to scream, wants to beat himself up for being so useless, wants to crawl on hands and knees and plead with you, but above all else he feels so guilty. He can’t get the image of your sad face from out of his head and this time it is all his fault. He never wants to hurt you, only wants to be the cause of your happiness. Maybe he really is not made to be in a relationship like some people had warned him, maybe even worse he doesn’t deserve it.

Inside the room you undress quickly and throw everything into the hamper. You change into your pajamas, usually you like to wear his clothes to sleep, his familiar smell makes you more relaxed but now you can’t deal with it. You throw yourself on the shared bed and cry silently against the pillows, they smell just like him it only adds fuel to the fire. You can’t stop yourself you feel the world crumbling around you and there is no exit, no one that will come save you and the only person who would you don’t even know if you matter to him at all.

After what feels like hours you must have become exhausted from your own crying and fallen into deep slumber. 

You wake up in the early hours of the morning, your throat feels painfully dry, your head hurts, your eyes feel heavy but now you are too tired to cry anymore. You feel something at the end of the bed, you raise on your elbow and look down, there he is, the bastard, at the foot of your bed like a kicked puppy. He must have wormed his way in the room at some point during the night while you slept and fallen sleep still on his clothes. He looks so pale, you realize there are deep dark circles under his eyes and it pains your heart even in the middle of all this fighting. He has one cold hand holding lightly at your calf under the covers, so pathetic. You want to kick him, watch him tumble from the bed, but still he is your bastard, no? 

You are still angry and you have no intentions of playing nice after what he just pulled on you, you hit him lightly with your foot and then harder when he doesn’t wake up. Finally groggily and confused he raises his head and immediately looks for your face in the dark of the early morning.

“I told you I wanted to sleep alone.” You say with a cold tone.

“Sorry, I missed you.” He says sniffling softly and rubbing at his eyes, you can tell from how red they are that he had been crying too.  “Can we talk please?” He says now sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“I don’t know. Are you still drunk?” You throw back harsh words at him, he regrets it, really does, he truly forgot, not that it makes it okay but the thought of you sitting waiting for him all alone in a restaurant for hours breaks his heart.

“I am really very sorry.” You don't reply and just cross your arms over your chest. “I totally forgot and I know it is not an excuse, we just finished the new song and we wanted to celebrate, it slipped my mind then I lost track of time, I had no idea it was already Saturday.” He looks up at you expectantly. 

“Well I’m happy you had fun!” It comes with more bite than perhaps you want it but still there is tension bubbling inside you. 

“Liefde…” He sounds pleading. 

You bite at your lip before speaking to keep in a pathetic little sound, you don’t want to start crying again so you swallow down harshly. “You really hurt me Joost.”

You hate saying those words, you hate the way his face breaks at them, but it is the truth and that hurts the most.

He starts crawling up the bed softly, slowly like a scared animal, as if you were going to push him away again. “I know, and I cannot apologize enough.” He still has his hand on your calf rubbing slow circles on your skin more to calm himself down than anything, you liked his little habit of fidgeting with his hands when he was nervous but now it is a painful reminder of everything that has happened. “I know I can’t make up for it right now but I really do love you, I love you so much and I am so sorry for hurting you I never wanted-“ his voice cracks, tears had started falling from his deep blue eyes at some point his voice sounds wet and strained, he sniffles trying to compose himself. “I really love you, I don't want to lose you”.

Your eyebrows knit in worry, you hate that he even thought that he would. “You won’t.”

You grab at his hand in your leg, and stroke lightly over it, you are gonna be okay, maybe not right now, maybe it will take some time to rebuild but it is okay, you are gonna give yourself and him the chance, it is going to be okay in the end or it is not the end. 

He allows himself to cry at that, unhurriedly like he can finally breath again. He goes to place a kiss on your knee, looks up through wet eyelashes, you pull at him to sit up, he follows easily and when you pull your hand away he wants to chase it but doesn’t want to try his luck too much. You lay softly against the pillows before you open you arms motioning for him to come over, he does so quick that he almost crushes into you, whispering little I’m sorries against the crook of your neck, kissing softly at the warm skin so his love can reach you. You let him, you feel his soft sniffles against your skin, his cheeks, his whole face, is wet with tears, you run your fingers through soft strands of golden hair, you have cried enough for today and it feels the first time you can truly breath easy. With him in your arms you feel at peace again. You let him cry as he wishes and just caress his back through it until he calms down. 

After a long while you think he might have fallen asleep on you but then he speaks up almost in a whisper. “I really do love you so much.”

You pull at his shirt gently so he will meet your eyes “I love you too Joost, always” You kiss him softly it taste salty but comforting, it taste like him, like home. 

You continue to kiss softly like you are kissing for the first time again, it feels good and soothing to your heart, he kisses you like he wants to melt into you, you know he loves you as you do. You still want to tease him a bit though, so you pull back and whisper an inch against his lips. 

“You know I bought a new lingerie set.” He perks up immediately, you shake your head, “Already took it off, since my boyfriend stood me up and all that.” You scrunch your nose for emphasis, he immediately pouts he can’t belive on what he is missing for his own mistakes. 

“Liefde-” He starts to whine, you pinch at his cheeks.

“I was really looking forward to tonight.” You pout at him, he gets the hint immediately so in tune with you sometimes words are not needed.

“Can I at least make this up to you now?” He says big blue yes staring at you pleading while his hand goes to play with the band of your pajama shorts. 

“Make it worth my while” You smile at him. 

He crawls slowly over your body gently to not put any weight on you. You look up at him, eyes still a little heavy with sleep, a little red from crying, it makes his heart hurt uncomfortably in his chest. He goes to kiss at the high of your cheeks gently placing soft little pecks on your eyes on the tip of your nose until he finally reaches your lips. His first kiss is chaste a little nervous but you open your mouth for him so he starts moving more insistently, kissing you back, he pushes his tongue past your teeth caressing softly at the inside of your mouth. Your hands find the back of his neck and grab instinctively pulling him closer, his hands roam slowly down your body until he reaches the hem of your camisole, you nod against his kiss so he pulls it off you in quick motion before returning to your lips. He kisses along your jaw, leaves an open mouthed trail of kisses down to your neck, feels the lingering scent of your perfume, the one he got you while traveling, he licks at the column of your throat it sends your heart into overdrive. He kisses slowly on your collar bones, bites gently at the skin there while his hands rub sotting shapes at your waist where he is holding you.

He starts pressing big open mouthed kisses at the skin of your chest, reaches one hand to play with one of your soft mounds, slightly stimulating the sensitive skin of you nipple, you press against his touch so delicious and warm in the middle of the cold room. He is licking and sucking all over your tits but avoiding your most sensitive spot where you want him, your legs are rubbing together trying to get any friction going on your core. You grow tired of the teasing as much as he wants to take this slow you are impatient as ever. 

“Joost-“ you whine pushing your chest against his face, he is breathing right against the skin of your nipple but won’t move. 

“Yes baby?” He asks playing coy, how dare he tease you.

You press your breasts together pushing them towards his warm lips. “Please~” You say in a breathy whiny moan that has him twitching in his boxers.

He always sets out to take his time with you and loses that battle halfway through when you sound so needy, he can’t say no and much less now. He goes to lick over your nipple, the skin hardens at the contact he sucks gently first then harder moving his tongue on the tip while his hand plays with the other scratching softly with his nail at the pebbled skin. Kneads softly at the fat with his big hand then switches and repeats the process. He sucks at the perked bud, his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration trying to bring you as much pleasure as he can to show you all the love he feels.

He keeps his beautiful ministrations down your tender body until he reaches you navel, kisses at your belly softly then moves even further south, reaches with sweet hands to the hem of your pajama shorts, you nod at him with a lip trapped between your teeth. He pulls the last of your clothing off in a swift motion, you feel how wet you are, naked, fully to his mercy. He kisses softly down the mound between your legs leaving a sweet peck at your clit that has you mewling but you know when it comes to this, it is as much about you as it is about him, so you let him take his time to do as he pleases. He kisses the inside of your thighs, because you are his, because he can. Takes his sweet time feeling the soft skin there, then licks a stripe up your core, it makes you twitch against his mouth. He adds to the wetness with his spit, with two fingers he spreads you open to kiss deeper into you, you feel his tongue exploratory at your hole softly pushing against the wet muscle. 

“Yes like that” You keep giving little praises to keep him going, your hands go to his hair to keep him in place, as if that was even needed when between your thighs is his favorite place on earth. He could live like this eternally and be grateful. 

He sucks gently at your clit, feels how hard it is on his tongue, licks up and down toying with it, you push your hips up towards his face, he moves his hands to hold at your hips, you are trembling slightly, he moves his hands and grabs behind your thighs and pushes one up placing it behind his shoulders to give himself more room. 

“I’m so close Joost please don’t stop”. You say, he moans against your heat in response, it vibrates on every nerve, he is kissing and licking wildly into you like he is making out with your pussy rather than eating you out, it is too much you have too look away and yet the lascivious sounds he pulls from you fill the room.

He licks deeply into your cunt, into the deep sweetness, he fucks you with his tongue until you have tears rolling down your cheeks while his other hand presses soft but firm circles on your clit to bring you to an orgasm. You feel yourself unraveling quickly your hips pushing wildly against him while he continues to lick you through it, he feels your pussy twitch and clench on his tongue, he is so painfully hard at some point he started humping against the mattress to relieve tension, your sweet screams of pleasure are all the reward he wants. You pull on his hair so hard it hurts but he doesn’t separate even an inch from you while you ride your high trying to prolongate it as much as he can with soft licks to your core and deft fingers on your clit. 

When the stimulation gets too much you start running from the touch, he places soft kisses on your wet folds as you push away his head gently but he holds you by the hips, hugging around your lower half to keep you close. He rest his head against one of your thighs and looks up so blissful, all pussy drunk and sweet, chin and mouth still wet with your release. 

“Get naked, I want to feel you.” You say more as an order than a plea and he is up from the bed in a second. 

He is still wearing the clothes he wore when he came home, not like he could have changed into anything since you locked yourself in the bedroom. He has sobered up but he is still a little slow and uncoordinated. Your hands moves slowly down you chest pulling lightly at your nipples still wet from his spit, he starts tracking your movements with his eyes, swallows deeply. He pulls his shirt over his head and catches how your hand goes between your legs and start softly toying with your bundle of nerves looking up to him through heavy eyelids. He can’t pull his eyes away, can’t move and feels his throat close, this is the hottest thing he has seen in his life and he is short circuiting. You start rubbing harder building back up to the edge of your orgasm. 

“Quickly~” You moan incessantly rubbing at your clit, legs spread for his viewing pleasure and grabbing at your nipples with the other hand to give him a show and torture him a little more.

“Please have mercy on me, I’m gonna die.” He whines as he struggles dumbly to unbuckle his belt and fails.

“If I come before you are done I’m just going back to sleep.” You say with no real intention behind it, just to see him get more flustered, you like him like this all red and dumb, all for you. 

You moan loudly pushing two fingers inside your heat. At the threat he pulls his pants and boxers down in a quick motion almost falling when his ankles get tangled in the fabric and he falls back at the edge of the bed. You laugh at that, how desperate he is still for you, even a year in the wonder isn’t lost at all. He loves the sound of your carefree laughter is so grateful he gets to hear it even when it is at his expenses. 

“Good boy~” You almost purr. You spread your legs for him, letting him come near you slowly feeling the mattress dips at his weight but you put a hand in his stomach to stop him before he enters you. “You have to earn it.”

He is probably gonna cum without even putting it in, he has given up at this point, but he nods his head dutifully after the day he made you have and presses just his tip against your folds how you like it. You feel so hot under him and he is all but dripping over your core. He puts his hands at the back of your thighs pushing softly so you will give him more space, with your legs almost against your chest he sees the way you pussy flutters under his gaze almost like a flower, so wet and glistening for him. He starts rubbing softly against you lips making sure his tip presses generously against your clit every time he comes near it. You cunt is so pretty and shiny with your release, all for him, he can’t take his eyes away. He keeps moving rubbing against you as your hips try to match him to feel more of that delicious friction. 

Soon you are moaning again under him. “I’m close Joost, I want to feel you inside” You whisper sultry. 

He lets go of your thighs softly and pulls himself slowly up to kiss you, you kiss back without hesitation, tasting yourself in his tongue is so erotic. He lines up his erection with your entrance and starts pushing slowly into you. You are so pretty under him, your eyes shiny so brightly, your lips are red and there are tears falling from your eyes but this time they are from pleasure, he feels so fulfilled and lucky to be the one to have you like this it fills his heart so much he feels he will explode with love any second. He barely manages to push halfway into you before he feels a shot of electricity up his spine, his body collapses on top of yours, hips thrusting deeply into you as he comes without warning. 

“Sorry, sorry. Oh fuck! Sorry.” He says between little whimpers, his hips stutter softly into your heat and he can’t do anything to stop it.

You smile to yourself while you hold him in your arms caressing softly at the expanses of his back, your hands move down below reaching to grab at his ass and pull him closer, wrap your legs around his hips, so he is deeper as he rides the last of his high. You keep pressing little kisses to the side of his face that he is now hiding in the crook of your neck while he comes down. 

“I'm sorry liefde.” He says against the pillows, hugs you tighter still hiding his face, you press a kiss to the skin of his shoulder you can reach.

“It is okay, it is okay.” You say soothing him, you run your nails softly over the skin of his back. 

You cup his face with your hands and pull softly so you can see him, his skin is a deep shade of red, it is adorable, you kiss him softly, he deepens the kiss and you suck at his tongue and feel more of your taste than whatever he had been drinking or smoking, it feels like he really belongs to you. You feel his cock kick weakly inside your walls, his cum dripping down your thighs slowly. You pull away barely and then push at his shoulder softly. He is now laying on his back and you are on top of him, his cock still inside you now softening.

“Liefde I can’t-” He says almost worried but you bend down to kiss his forehead. 

“Just stay still a little longer I’m almost there.” You barely move on his lap, don’t want to torture him anymore. You just want to feel him inside when you reach your peak. You are rubbing at your clit firmly chasing after your own climax, you feel your walls spasm against him, he whimpers beneath you, his hands go to grab at you hips in delicious agony.

“You are so beautiful.” He is hypnotized by the way your chest moves when you breath, your beautiful features breaking into ecstasy, he catches the exact moment you come undone, he feels you clench around his soft dick almost tortuously tight.

“Joost!” You scream on top of him, he moans back feels you twitching all over him. 

“Schat I love you so much.” He speaks into the darkness.

This time it is you who collapses on the bed, he holds you close to his chest, caresses at your back until you can breath normally again, presses kisses to your hair whispering sweet nothing in your ear. 

You feel his release and yours wet your thighs, it feels too sticky to sleep in so you raise softly. 

“I wanna shower.” You say pressing a kiss to his jaw. 

He nods, pulls you off him with a wince, you feel so empty, your cunt clenching on nothing. He sits up on bed with you still sitting on his lap too tired to even attempt to move. He grabs at your thighs below your ass and pulls you up on his embrace like you are weightless, you wrap your legs around his middle and hold tightly at his neck as he carries you to the bathroom. He puts you down slowly making sure your shaky legs don’t betray you while he starts the shower then he lets you in before him and joins you right after. The water is warm you start cleaning yourself up slowly, the sadness of the day washes away down the drain you don’t want to think anymore about it. He rubs body wash on your back and washes it away with soft deft hands massaging at the clenched muscles of your neck, it feels so good to be taken care of. 

You start cleaning between your legs, softly with your fingers between your folds before you feel his arms wrap around your middle and pull you to his chest under the water stream.

“Let me.” he says, his hand much bigger than yours hovers between your legs until you nod. 

He pushes his fingers in you softly moving in and out, his other arm tightly wrapped around your stomach to keep you standing. You feel his release spill out of you, you have to hold your breath your arm reaches to hold at his forearm as he works his fingers deep into your heat, he starts pulling little moans out of your mouth, sometimes you feel he knows your body better than you do and in moments like this it feels true.

“Joost I thought you were just helping me clean up.” You whine, throwing your head back resting it agains his shoulder, he kisses at your hairline softly. 

“Should I stop?” He asks genuinely, you know he never pushes you further than you want to go but you shake your head negatively so he continues.

It feels so good, your cunt is so tired and overstimulated but he is being so soft, so patient, fingering deep inside, touching at the spongey spot that makes you melt over and over again, you don’t know if it is from how pent up you have been with his absence, when usually you go at it every day, or the rollercoaster of emotions of the night has made you so sensitive but you feel another orgasm building softly in your core. You feel he has become hard again, hot member pressing at the back of you body, it is like he can never get enough of you. You reach a hand back and start stroking him gently.

“It is okay” He says ever so tender with you, never wanting to hurt you or make it uncomfortable for you, he knows you are tired and spent but you look up at him, wet hair sticking to your pretty face. 

“I want you to feel good too.” You rub your ass against him to emphasize your words and make his will break. “Just be gentle.” you whisper, he bends down his neck so you can kiss him and you do so.

Your skin is so soapy and slimy, he thrust against you a couple of times, at the cleft between your asscheeks, his fingers are still deep in your cunt until he pulls away softly, you see your shiny release on his digits and it makes you blush. He grabs hold of your hips gently, holds himself in his hand then pushes into you slowly inch by inch but you are still so wet and warm there is no resistance just the fluttering feeling of your walls on his cock. 

There is nothing more delicious than the feeling of being so connected, so close you can melt into one, he stays there without moving for a long moment just feeling you around him listening to your soft breath and the running of the water.

“You can move.” You tell him softly reaching your arm above you to hold at the back of his neck. 

“Give me a second.” He says in a deep voice, he is trying to breath through his nose to calm down. 

You laugh to yourself slightly and then push back on his hard dick. His hands grip tighter on your hips trying to keep you still. 

“Scath, you are killing me.” He says smiling in disbelief. 

“Good.” You reply looking up at him. He shakes his head you before he moves. 

He starts fucking into you, deep slow thrust into your heat, then pulling out of you at excruciatingly slow pace, then pushing in again deep until he feels he can’t go further. You are moaning  into the hot air of the bathroom, he watches hypnotized as the little droplets of water slide all over your body, your pretty nipples hardened with lust standing against your chest begging for attention, he moves one of his hands up your chest and pulls slightly at the pebbled skin, you moan loudly and he feels you cunt clenching all over him. He starts moving faster, harder you hear the wet sound of skin against skin, feel him groaning against your ear, holding at the flesh of your hips so tight it is bound to leave a mark. He feels you softly tightening on him again and again, your breath becomes more labored but he wants to see your pretty face when you come, he is addicted to it, can’t get the same satisfaction if he misses it, so on a swift move he pulls out fully leaving you empty and confused before spinning you around, grabbing at your arms and placing them behind his neck. 

“Hold tight.” The only words he says before he grabs at the back of your thighs to lift you up, he presses you against the tile wall and with one hand pushes his cock inside you again. You gasp against his mouth.

With the new angle you feel him impossibly deeper in your core, you can barely breath, eyes wildly open with surprise. He starts bouncing you on his length his hands grabbing handfuls of your ass, moving you like you are impossibly light on his embrace.

“Ah too deep Joost!” You whine against his mouth as he kisses at the corner of your lips.

He smiles proudly at that. “Sorry schat, I only have one dick size” He says delighted.

“Idio-” Your insult melts into a high pitched moan when his dick hits right at your g-spot.“There, right there Joost more~” You mewl against his mouth.

The “be gentle” promise seems so lost when you can feel him so deep in you it should scare you. You are both worked up and eager to reach your peak again, he is kissing at your mouth more like shoving his tongue inside it, you can barely move your lips back, everything feels electric every nerve standing waiting for the drop. You hold with one hand at his neck and reach the other between your legs to rub fast circles on your poor clit. He is watching intently at the place where you connect, seeing himself disappear inside your heat and your hand wildly rubbing on yourself, he hears you whimper and whine his name, it is all so overstimulating and yet he feels he cannot get enough.

“Yes baby make yourself cum all over me.” He says in a deep groan, his voice sounds so labored and dripping with lust it send you over the edge, you clench around his length, walls pulsing all over him. 

You throw your head back in ecstasy, an orgasm that feel endless while he keeps fucking into you, continuing to chase his high with a few uncoordinated thrusts that have you whining from over stimulation. He cums deep inside you again, this time it knocks the wind out of your lungs his efforts to clean you up all but wasted now. You feel your heart and his beating wildly and the sound of strained breaths creating an unlikely symphony with the sound of the shower. 

After a long languid minute he still has you pressed against the wall held tightly on his arms, he is usually so clumsy when he has to get up early, all but tumbles into the shower. You swear one of this days he is gonna fall and hit his head on the sink, but with you on his arms he is so careful balancing you properly so you won’t slip from him. He finally raises his head from your chest but before places open mouthed kisses right where your heart should be, you meet him with a wet kiss on the lips, he slowly puts you down, his eyes seem so heavy like he will fall asleep any minute now.

“Lets finish off quickly.” You tell him he nods. 

You finish massaging body wash onto him, you feel how tense the muscles on his back are, more than you have ever felt, you feel a little bad for your earlier outburst, he had been working so hard what he did wasn’t right but you can tell he is truly sorry. You wash him off quickly and do the same for yourself.

You both come out of the shower, wrap in soft towels before he reaches for the hair dryer and turns it on. 

“Turn around.” He says his voice sounds so heavy you really fear he might just fall asleep right here and then you will have to somehow drag him to bed. 

But he doesn’t fall asleep, instead he starts gently blow drying your hair you feel so peaceful, finally, you let him work his fingers on your scalp, you look into the mirror ahead and see he is already looking at you, it makes you blush like when you wake up late and he is already up just staring at your face, no matter if you were drooling through the night he thinks you are so beautiful.

He places a soft kiss at the top of your crown before he speaks again “So…. About the lingerie?”

You knew this one was coming, you roll your eyes at him in the mirror “You don’t deserve to see it.” You say quickly avoiding his eyes where he will see you are not serious at all.

He pouts, it is so cute, you will let him see of course, but not now, he has to earn it again or he won’t learn, you need to stop treating him like a dog too, probably, maybe… 

“Can I ask again another time?” He turns off the blow dryer and rests it in the counter.

You walk out the bathroom and he follows right behind. “Perhaps…if you are well behaved.” You look behind your shoulder and wink at him he smiles brightly back at you, if the torture you will put him through to let him see you on the lingerie set is even half as delicious as what he just went through then he is already looking forward to it. 

You throw the towel on a chair he does the same then you climb on bed lifting the comforter so he will just slip in. He does and then pulls you against his chest resting your head right below his chin. You will fall asleep in his arms, wake up in the late afternoon maybe order take out and talk it out, and you will talk anything out as many times as it takes because he is worth it, because both of you are, no matter how hard things get being together is worth it. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

MASTERLIST *ੈ✩‧₊˚ A/N: this ended up being really long oops anyways thank u for reading to the end if u did let me know if you liked it <3  ps. this was based on a suggestion ty for that :>

[coffeeshades]

credits to the gif maker!

GUILTY AS SIN...? - PART II

summary: one summer with the man you can't have, but can't stop thinking about.

pairing: cillian murphy x popstar!reader

word count: 9.1k

warnings: 18+ (minors dni). explicit sex. angst. cussing, slight age gap, mentions of alcohol and divorce. no use of y/n, heavily inspired by ts and ttpd. if i missed something please let me know. (also this is a work of fiction, none of it reflects how i feel about the people mentioned in this, most importantly cillian's wife, who im sure is a sweetheart irl. it's fiction, just relax and enjoy it, and if not, move along, friends.)

a/n: hi everyone! here's the second part, finally. i had lots of fun writing this one, happy reading <3

part one

After staying at Cillian's for awhile, you decided to go to the place you had rented. The truth is, you didn't want to leave, but you had already extended your stay longer than planned, and you wanted to give him space with his kids. And you also wanted to give him time to process the event that took place four nights ago in his bathroom. Or you wanted to give yourself time to process it.

At this point, you weren't sure who needed the space more.

It was all very confusing because, yes, you've had feelings for him for God knows how long, but you've squashed them down like a stubborn bug for the sake of your friendship and, most importantly, his family. Those two things were always at the forefront of your mind, guiding every action and decision. But now that his family is no longer a factor and the two of you almost crossed a line, it's hard to ignore those feelings.

Those feelings that crawl up your spine every time he smiles at you or brushes against your hand accidentally. Those feelings also make you feel like the worst person in the world, as if you're betraying his ex-wife and their children by even entertaining the idea of something more with him.

It's all so delicate.

The cottage is nestled between rolling green hills and the glimmering blue of a distant sea. The place is like a warm embrace. The floors are laid with wide, honey-colored wooden planks, their surface worn smooth by generations of footsteps. Exposed wooden beams crisscross the ceiling, their rich, dark wood adding a sense of history and sturdiness to the space. The walls are painted in a soft, creamy white. The master bedroom is a haven of tranquility, with white linen curtains billowing softly in the breeze from the open window. The bed, with its wrought iron frame, is piled high with quilts and pillows in soft shades of blue and green. It's the best sleep you've had in months.

It rained earlier today. You've stayed inside all day, not wanting to venture out into the wet weather. The gentle pitter-patter of raindrops against the window was a soothing backdrop to your day, but it stopped around mid-afternoon, leaving behind a fresh, clean scent in the air.

Now you’re sitting at the rustic wooden table beneath the pergola, one leg tucked under you, grapevines overhead casting dappled shadows on the weathered wood. The garden around you is alive with color—wildflowers in every shade imaginable sway gently in the soft breeze, and the lavender and rosemary release their fragrant scent into the air.

Bon Iver’s voice drifts softly from your phone, which lies next to your notepad on the table. The music is haunting, its melancholy tones matching the weight in your chest. You’ve been here for hours, or maybe it’s only been minutes—time seems to blur together lately.

The notepad lies open beside you, filled with half-written lyrics, fragments of thoughts and emotions that you can’t quite bring yourself to finish. The pages are messy, scribbled lines crossed out, some words barely legible, as if your hand couldn’t keep up with the rush of thoughts.

You’ve been chasing this dream for so long—touring, recording, performing in front of thousands of people—but somewhere along the way, you’ve lost sight of why you started. The music that once brought you so much joy now feels like a burden; the words that once flowed effortlessly are now tangled up in doubt and frustration. The applause, the fame, the success—it’s all there, but it feels hollow. It feels lonely.

The sun is beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the water, but you’re too tired to move. You prop one leg up the chair and rest your chin on your hand. You focus on the water, trying to find some solace in its steady flow. But all you can feel is a deep, gnawing sense of unfulfillment, a yearning for something you can’t even name.

How pathetic.

You’re tired, so tired, and the dream that once seemed so bright now feels like a chore.

The door creaks open behind you, and you catch the faint sound of footsteps on the stone path. You don’t need to turn around to know it’s him. Cillian moves with a certain quietness, a soft presence that you’ve come to recognize. The footsteps grow closer until they stop just to your left.

"You should lock your door," he says, his voice low, carrying a hint of amusement but also concern.

You let out a small, tired laugh, not bothering to look up. "Didn’t think anyone would come by," you reply, your gaze still fixed on the stream; its gentle flow is the only thing that seems to make sense right now.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, just stands there, his shadow blending with yours. Then he pulls out the chair next to you, the wood scraping softly against the stone, and sits down. You can feel his eyes on you, but he doesn’t press, just lets the silence settle around you both.

You hear him shift beside you, and from the corner of your eye, you see him glance down at the notepad on the table. His gaze lingers on the unfinished words, but he doesn’t say anything about them. Instead, he just leans back in his chair, looking out at the water with you.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally speaks, his voice softer, almost reflective. "I know that look. The one that says you’re miles away, stuck in your own head."

You don't respond, knowing that he understands you more than most people. The music on your phone shifts to another Bon Iver song, this time Beach Baby.

He continues. "You know, sometimes I think about all of it—this life, the fame, the roles I play. It’s bizarre, isn’t it? I spend so much time being someone else, living in someone else’s skin, that it’s easy to forget who I am when the cameras stop rolling."

His words hang in the air, and you turn your head slightly to look at him. His expression is thoughtful, his blue eyes distant, like he’s lost in his own memories. "It’s like… sometimes, I feel more like myself when I’m acting, when I’m being someone else. That's what made me fall in love with it in the first place. I just loved being somebody else. It’s easier, somehow. But then there are those moments, when the lights go out, and I’m just… me. And that’s when the loneliness creeps in."

You nod, understanding more than you’d like to admit. "It’s the same with music, I guess," you say quietly. "There’s this rush, this high, when you’re on stage, when everyone’s looking at you and you’re giving them everything you’ve got. But then it’s over, and you’re left with the silence, the emptiness. It’s like… who am I when it stops?"

He looks at you then, really looks at you, and you can see the shared understanding in his eyes. It’s a strange comfort knowing that someone else gets it, that you’re not alone in this feeling of being lost.

You take a deep breath, the weight of the words you’ve been holding back suddenly becomes too heavy to keep inside. "I guess that's why I'm here. To escape. To escape the pressure, the expectations and…just be," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Everything is a performance. Everything. When we're out in the world, we're expected to act a certain way, to fit into a mold. We have to edit ourselves. As honest as we try to be, there's always a part of us that remains hidden. And it's exhausting."

Cillian nods, his gaze never leaving yours. "And when you’re alone, you can let go of that and let your mind just be still," he says, his voice carrying the weight of someone who’s thought about this a lot. "It’s quite peaceful, isn’t it? But it’s also… terrifying. Being alone with your thoughts, with no distractions, no one to perform for. It’s like staring into a void sometimes."

You swallow hard, the truth of his words hitting you square in the chest. "Yeah, it is. But it’s also when I feel the most myself. When it’s just me, and I don’t have to be anything for anyone. Just… here, in the quiet, letting my mind rest."

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The garden around you is alive with the soft sounds of nature—the rustling of leaves, the gentle murmur of the stream, the distant call of a bird. Bon Iver’s music still plays from your phone—Holocene.

You break the silence. "Sometimes I think about it. I think about letting go of it." It's a terrifying thought but also strangely liberating. You don't know what it means completely yet, but just saying it out loud brings relief. Cillian just looks at you, his eyes reflecting understanding and empathy.

It was so easy, existing with him.

In this moment, you feel a little less lost, a little more understood. And as the sun dips lower in the sky, a mix of orange and pink hues, you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re not as alone as you thought.

The next day dawns softer, brighter. You wake up with a sense of calm that had been missing for a while. There’s a lingering warmth from yesterday, the conversation with Cillian still playing in the back of your mind. As you sat at the same wooden table this morning, you found yourself scribbling lyrics that flowed easier, more naturally. They’re different—slower, more deliberate. There’s a depth to them that feels right, as if you’re finally tapping into something real, something honest.

Last night had ended quietly. After that heavy talk in the garden, Cillian stayed for dinner. The two of you kept the conversation light, avoiding the unspoken tension. It was there, hovering between you, but neither of you brought it up. Instead, you talked about mundane things and watched Punch-Drunk Love in the quaint living room. He pointed out every little detail he liked in it, and you listened, soaking in the emotion in his voice.

When the movie ended, he promised to see you the next day, and you reassured him it was fine, that you understood his absence. You meant it, even though a part of you always ached for more of his presence.

Today, with that newfound energy, you decided to venture out. An early morning walk turned into a drive to the nearby town. You pulled on a cap and sunglasses—a funny and somewhat ineffective disguise, but it was something. The town was charming, with narrow cobblestone streets, quaint shops, and a relaxed pace. Most people didn’t give you a second glance, and for that you were grateful. It was nice to blend in, to be just another person out enjoying the day.

You wandered through the market, admired the local crafts, and even picked up a few things—a handmade bracelet, a small painting of the Irish countryside. Lunch was at a cozy little café, tucked away from the main street. You ordered a hearty bowl of seafood chowder, rich and warming, with fresh bread on the side. As you sat there savoring the meal, your phone buzzed. It was Cillian, asking if you wanted to grab drinks tonight. You hesitated, your mind running through a dozen reasons to say no, but in the end, you agreed. You wanted to see him again, even if you couldn’t quite admit how much.

Back at the cottage, you took your time getting ready. You set the atmosphere, lighting a few candles, playing some soft music in the background. It felt good to take care of yourself and put a little effort into how you looked. You chose a pair of jeans that fit just right, a black top, and your favorite leather jacket. Casual but confident. A swipe of red lipstick added a touch of boldness.

You didn’t know where the night would take you, but you felt ready.

Cillian arrived right on time, his car rolling up the gravel drive just as you slipped on your jacket. When you stepped outside, he was already out of the car, leaning casually against the door. He smiled when he saw you—a warm, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“Ready?” he asked, his eyes flicking over your outfit with an appreciative glance.

“As I’ll ever be,” you replied, a hint of nerves bubbling up but quickly pushed aside.

The drive to the pub was easy, the conversation flowing effortlessly. You talked about your day, the town, the little things you’d picked up. He told you about his new movie coming out later this year, based on a novella set in the mid-1980s in a small Irish village. There was a comfort in the exchange, in the way your words mingled with the sound of the tires on the road.

When he pulled up outside the pub, you couldn’t help but grin at the sight. It was a small, unassuming place, the kind of spot that felt like a well-kept secret. The sign above the door was weathered, the windows glowing warmly from the inside. It looked cozy, inviting.

“Do I need to bring out my disguise?” you asked, amused, as you glanced at him.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, you’re safe here. No one’s going to bother us. I’ve been coming here for years. They don't give a shit about me.”

He was right. The pub was perfect—dimly lit, with a mix of old and new music playing in the background. The crowd was relaxed, more interested in their conversations than in who might be sitting at the next table. You found two empty stools at the bar and settled in.

Close to the drinks. Perfect.

You ordered beers—the kind that tasted awful but somehow fit the atmosphere. Cillian took a sip of his beer, and the reaction was immediate. He groaned, his head falling back as if in defeat, eyes closed as he savored—or perhaps endured—the taste. The dim light from the pub’s old-fashioned fixtures cast a warm glow on his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his jawline and the shadow of stubble that had begun to form. His lips, still wet from the beer, parted in a wry smile that spoke volumes of his disdain for the drink. His brow furrowed slightly as he kept his eyes closed, letting out a deep, exaggerated sigh as if the beer was the worst thing he’d ever tasted.

It was a dramatic performance, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how absurdly handsome he looked even in that moment. There was something endearing about it—the way he could make something so ordinary seem so intense. His dark hair, slightly tousled, fell over his forehead, and you found yourself staring longer than you meant to.

“Bloody hell, that’s awful,” he muttered, finally opening his eyes and giving you a side glance. His blue eyes sparkled with trouble, the corners crinkling as he caught the expression on your face. “You should’ve seen yourself, though. Looked like you were trying to swallow glass.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to stop the smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, please. You looked like you were about to keel over from one sip,” you shot back, sarcasm lacing your voice.

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, and the amusement in his eyes deepened. “Can’t argue with that,” he admitted, taking another sip with a grimace. “Piss beer, this is. I’d almost prefer water.”

“Almost,” you teased, lifting your glass to take another drink. The foam clung to the rim as you sipped, and you made a point to keep your expression neutral, though you could feel the bitterness spreading across your tongue.

Cillian leaned in a bit closer, his Irish accent growing thicker with each drink. “But then, what would we have to complain about, eh? I think the shite beer is half the charm of this place.” His voice was smoother, more relaxed, and you noticed the way his words seemed to roll off his tongue, rich with the lilting cadence of his heritage. It was endearing, undeniably so, and you found it increasingly hard to focus on anything else.

“Is that what they call charm here? I must’ve missed the memo,” you quipped, smirking as you met his gaze. The clever back-and-forth felt natural, easy, and it warmed you more than the alcohol ever could.

“You’re lucky I’m here to explain it to ya,” he said, leaning in just a bit more, his voice dropping to a playful murmur. “Otherwise, you might’ve gone your whole life without knowing the joys of terrible Irish beer.”

“Oh, I’m so grateful,” you shot back, sarcasm dripping from your words, but your smile gave you away. “I’ll add it to the list of things you’ve taught me.”

He grinned, clearly enjoying the banter, and you noticed how close he had gotten. His arm was now resting casually on the back of your seat, and every so often, your knees would brush, those accidental touches sending a small, electric thrill through you. The pub’s atmosphere, once filled with distant conversations and the clinking of glasses, now seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. The world outside the booth blurred away, and all that was left was Cillian’s presence, the sound of his voice, and the faint, intoxicating scent of him that mixed with the pub’s woody, earthy aroma.

The more you drank, the closer you both seemed to get, each sip loosening the barriers that had been in place. His laughter grew louder, more infectious, and his accent, more pronounced with every word, sent a shiver down your spine. It was more than just the alcohol—there was an ease between you that you hadn’t felt before, a sense of connection that went beyond the usual playful exchanges.

“Y’know,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he leaned in even closer. “I think I’m starting to like this beer.”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curving into a smirk, feeling a little more brave. “Is that so? Or is it just the company?”

He chuckled, his breath warm against your ear as he replied, “Maybe a bit of both.”

A familiar flutter stirred in your chest—the undeniable pull that you’d been trying to ignore for days. But tonight, in this pub, with its terrible beer and terrible lighting, you decided you didn’t want to fight it anymore. Not here, not with him.

You moved on to something stronger, whiskey that burned going down but left a warmth spreading through your chest that felt as intoxicating as the alcohol itself. With each sip, the edges of your nerves smoothed out, and you felt looser, braver, and a little sexier. You sat on the bar stool with your body angled slightly toward Cillian. The leather of your jacket creaked as you shifted, the red of your lipstick standing out against the dim light. You felt his gaze on you, not just looking, but really seeing you, his eyes tracing the curve of your neck down to where your top dipped, lingering just a moment longer than usual.

His look was hungry, but it wasn’t just that—it was curious, intrigued. He rested his elbow on the bar, leaning closer, his knee brushing against yours as he picked up his glass, watching you over the rim as he took a sip. The whiskey seemed to bring out the blue in his eyes, making them sharp and piercing, but there was softness there too, an openness that had grown.

“You know,” you began, a small, knowing smile playing on your lips. “I was just thinking about the first time we met.”

His eyebrow arched in curiosity, and he leaned in a little closer, his interest piqued. “Oh yeah? That was… what, 7 years ago? At the Globes, wasn’t it?”

You nodded, taking another sip of your drink, the liquid courage giving you the confidence to broach the subject. “Yeah, that’s right. And you… well, let’s just say you weren’t exactly my biggest fan.”

Cillian looked taken aback, a surprised smile curving his lips. “What? I don’t remember it like that.”

“Oh, come on, Cill,” you said, playfully nudging his shoulder. “You kind of hated me."

He laughed, shaking his head. “I didn’t hate you. I just… I guess I had some preconceived notions about you."

“Preconceived notions?” you asked, a teasing glint in your eyes.

He hesitated, looking almost sheepish as he ran a hand through his hair. “Honestly? I thought you were this… I don’t know, shallow, self-absorbed person. Just someone who was there for the attention, you know?”

You let out a mock gasp, placing a hand over your heart in faux offense. “I’m wounded! I can’t believe you thought that about me, really.”

He chuckled, but there was a hint of regret in his voice as he added, “But I was wrong. I figured that out pretty quickly.”

“Oh, really?” you asked, leaning in a little closer, your voice dropping to a flirtatious whisper. “When exactly did you figure that out?”

“The first time we really talked,” he said, his voice equally soft, the words carrying a weight they hadn’t before. “After I saw you in the hall, crying. I don't know. You were so real, and I realized you weren’t what I thought. Not even close.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “Wow, so I had to have a full-on breakdown just to convince you I wasn’t a shallow, self-absorbed diva? Good to know, Cill. I’ll make sure to cry more often around you.”

He laughed, bringing his fingertips to his lips, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Not quite what I meant, but I guess it did the trick, didn’t it?”

You remembered that night vividly, how everything had seemed to spiral downward so quickly. “I was having the worst night,” you said laughing, a slight bitterness creeping into your tone as the memories resurfaced. “I’d just been dumped by the world’s biggest asshole that morning, and then there you were, tearing down everything I said with some esoteric joke.”

Cillian winced slightly, the regret more pronounced now. “Yeah… I wasn’t exactly charming, was I?”

“You were a bit of a jerk,” you admitted, but there was no malice in your words. “But you made up for it with that burger offer.”

A grin spread across his face as he remembered. ��I wasn’t sure you’d say yes.”

“Well, I figured a burger with you was better than sulking alone,” you replied, smiling at the memory. “And it was. I didn’t realize it at the time, but it was exactly what I needed.”

His expression softened. “I’m glad I asked, then.”

The bartender interrupted your conversation to ask if you wanted another round, and without a second thought, you both nodded in agreement. It seemed neither of you were ready to call it a night. The place was warmer now. As you waited for your drinks, your eyes drifted to the ceiling. Neil Young's "Harvest Moon" played softly in the background, the gentle melody weaving through the low murmur of conversation.

You glanced over your shoulder and noticed that a few couples had begun to dance, swaying gently to the music. There was something so natural, so easy about it, that you couldn’t resist the urge that bubbled up inside you. Turning back to Cillian, who was taking a sip of his drink, you couldn’t help but smile. “Come on,” you said, nudging him playfully with your elbow. “Dance with me.”

Cillian raised an eyebrow, looking at you with a mix of amusement and skepticism. He muttered something in reply but you couldn’t quite make it out. It only made you more determined.

“I didn’t catch that,” you teased, leaning in closer as if trying to decipher his words. “But I know what you’re going to say.”

“Oh, do you, piano woman?” he shot back, his tone light but with a challenging edge.

“Yes,” you said, grinning. “You’re going to say that you don’t dance.”

Cillian chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “You’re right about that. I don’t.”

You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a low, persuasive tone. “I know, but you’ll indulge me anyway.”

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if weighing his options. Then, with a small, resigned sigh, he downed the rest of his drink in one go and set the glass back on the bar with a decisive thud. Before you could react, he grabbed your hand and stood up, pulling you along with him.

It caught you by surprise, the suddenness of it, especially considering he had just insisted he wasn’t the dancing type. As he led you toward the makeshift dance floor, he leaned in and said with a grin, “You’re lucky I like you.”

You laughed, a loud, genuine sound that felt as freeing as the night itself. “Oh, am I now?”

He smirked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yeah, because otherwise, there’s no way I’d be making a fool of myself like this.”

You shot back with a playful, “Well, let’s see just how much of a fool you really are, then.”

As you reached the space where others were already swaying to the music, Cillian took your hand and pulled you in close. You could feel the warmth of his body, the solidity of his frame as he moved with you, the two of you finding a rhythm that was surprisingly in sync. It wasn’t anything fancy—just simple, slow movements to match the easy tempo of the song—but it felt intimate, like you were the only two people in the room.

Cillian leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Did you know I'm a failed musician?”

You couldn’t help but smirk, the alcohol loosening your tongue.

“Failed, huh? So, what happened? Couldn’t hack it with the rest of us rockstars?”

He chuckled, the sound deep and rich, sending a shiver down your spine. "Something like that. I was in a band, actually."

You leaned back slightly, raising an eyebrow in mock disbelief. “You? In a band? Color me shocked.”

It was kind of hot, imagining him on stage with a guitar in hand.

"We even had a record deal and everything."

"What happened?"

Cillian’s expression softened as he spoke, his voice carrying the weight of nostalgia. “My brother was still in school at the time, and my parents basically told me I could fuck up my life if I wanted, but I couldn’t take him down with me. So, it fell through.”

As you continued to sway together, the story of his past unraveled between you, each word carrying a hint of regret mixed with fond memories. “Those were great times, though,” he continued, his eyes distant as if he were seeing it all again. “I’d be out late, drinking, playing music in small pubs, thinking we were going to make it big. It was a bit of a rush, you know?”

You could imagine him there, young and reckless, with that same intensity in his eyes that he carried now, but wilder, untamed by the years. “So music was your first love, then?” you asked, your voice soft, genuinely curious.

He nodded, a wistful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah, I suppose it was. I had been playing instruments since I was little. There’s something about it that just… gets into your blood. But then, acting came along."

“When exactly did you know that's what you wanted?” you asked, wanting to peel back more layers of him.

His smile turned almost bashful, as if recalling a secret he hadn’t shared in a while. “There was this guy who ran the Cork theater company—had a huge man crush on him. He was brilliant, and I ended up doing a workshop with him. After that, I just pestered him for an audition until he gave in.”

You chuckled softly at the thought of a young Cillian, determined and probably a bit of a nuisance, chasing after something he wanted so badly. “And that was it?”

“Well, there was a drama module in school when I was about 16, 17—during the transition year. That’s when I first got the bug. Ended up starring in A Clockwork Orange. It was sexy, dangerous, unlike anything I’d ever seen. I loved playing someone else, losing myself in the character.”

He paused, then flashed a self-deprecating grin. “There’s not much to look at, but if you give me a minute…"

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at his modesty. “You’re selling yourself short,” you teased, leaning in closer, your bodies moving in sync to the music. "Cill, you literally have an Oscar."

“Ah, the Oscar... just a glorified doorstop, really,” he quipped, his tone light but with that familiar undercurrent of humility.

"It's the work that matters, blah blah blah," you joked, rolling your eyes playfully. His eyes were crinkling at the corners with genuine amusement. "Exactly," he agreed, before pulling you into a twirl.

"Do you miss it? you ask, hands circling his neck as you sway. "Music, I mean."

Cillian blew out a slow breath, his eyes growing thoughtful as he considered your question. “Sometimes,” he admitted. "But life has a way of taking you where you need to be, not where you want to be.”

His words settled over you like a blanket, warm and heavy, as you mulled them over. Is this where I need to be? The question echoed in your mind, reverberating through the deeper corners of your thoughts. You weren’t sure you had an answer. You were a successful artist, living the dream so many could only imagine, but there was always that lingering sense of something missing, a quiet ache that you couldn’t quite place.

Where do I need to be?

The thought spiraled, unfurling like an endless thread, pulling at the edges of your consciousness. You started questioning everything—your choices, your path, the very essence of who you were. Those words seemed to tap into something deep inside, a reservoir of doubts and desires that you hadn’t fully acknowledged until now.

“Yeah,” you replied softly, almost like you were talking to yourself more than to him.

You rested your head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around you, swaying slowly. See, this is the thing about Cillian, he had a way of making you feel seen and understood, even when you didn't fully understand yourself, even without saying a single word.

The warmth of Cillian's arm around you, the subtle way he moved—it all felt so natural, like this was where you were supposed to be. But then, the memory of four nights ago crept in—the way his breath had hitched as you said you weren't going to stop him from going further, the tension that crackled between you both like a live wire.

The room suddenly felt too small, too warm. Heat flushed through your body, a dizzying sensation that made it hard to focus on anything other than the way he was looking at you. A knot formed in your throat, and you swallowed hard, trying to steady your racing pulse.

The memory was like a current running through you, making you hyper-aware of every point of contact with him. The room suddenly felt too small, too warm. Your mind was swirling with thoughts, the alcohol making you bolder, more aware of the things left unsaid.

"I can't stop thinking about what almost happened the other day."

“What almost happened?”

He let out a low, almost inaudible chuckle, his lips dangerously nuzzled in your hair. “Don’t play coy with me, love. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach, the way your body reacted to his nearness. “I’ve tried to stop thinking about it,” he continued, his voice a hushed murmur that only you could hear, “but I can’t.”

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken desire. You wanted to let go of the restraint you’d been holding onto all night, but you were still aware of where you were, of the people around you—even if they weren’t paying you any attention. The thought of crossing that line, right here in the middle of the pub, was both thrilling and terrifying.

But Cillian, sensing your hesitation, didn’t push.

Finally, he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his expression serious but laced with that familiar smirk. “Wanna head out of here?” he asked, his voice low but with a note of urgency.

You didn’t need to think twice. “Yes,” you breathed, the word escaping your lips before you could stop it.

The night air hit you like a shock to the system as you stepped outside, the cool breeze carrying with it the faint scent of rain. The streets were quieter now, the lively noise of the pub fading into the background. You were drunk, the world tilting slightly with each step, and neither of you could drive.

Cillian pulled out his phone, his fingers deftly dialing the number for a cab. You watched him as he made the call, the way his jaw tensed slightly as he spoke, his voice low and calm despite the alcohol humming through his veins. There was something undeniably attractive about the way he carried himself, even in this moment of mundane practicality.

“What about your car?” you asked, your words slightly slurred but still coherent.

He glanced over at you, a small, reassuring smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll pick it up in the morning,” he replied smoothly, his accent curling around the words in that familiar, endearing way. “Don’t worry, love.”

The cab arrived not long after, the headlights cutting through the night as it pulled up to the curb. Cillian opened the door for you, and the two of you slid into the backseat, sitting close together but not touching. Not yet. The space between you crackled with unspoken tension, the thrill of anticipation hanging heavy in the air.

You found yourself playing with your ring-clad fingers, the cool metal a small distraction as the silence stretched out between you. The driver turned up the music a bit, and the opening chords of Inhaler’s "Dublin in Ecstasy" filled the car. The song was somehow fitting, its pulsing beat and haunting lyrics adding to the electric atmosphere.

It started to rain, the droplets tapping against the windows and turning them foggy, adding a sense of intimacy to the small, enclosed space. The outside world became a blur of lights and shadows, the city fading away as the cab sped through the streets. You could feel Cillian’s gaze on you, the weight of it almost tangible as you sat there, both of you lost in your own thoughts.

You turned to look at him, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. The music became more intoxicating, the beat syncing with the rapid thudding of your heart. He noticed you bopping your head slightly to the rhythm, and a small, surprised smile crossed his face.

“You know this?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

You smirked, leaning back against the seat as you replied with playful confidence, “I know every song ever made, actually.”

He chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Is that so? A human jukebox, then?”

“Something like that,” you teased, the conversation light but charged with something more, something neither of you could ignore any longer.

The cab’s interior felt smaller, more suffocating as you neared your destination. When you finally arrived at his place, Cillian paid the driver, and the two of you got out, raising your jackets over your heads to shield from the rain, which had grown heavier. You both ran to the entrance, your footsteps echoing in the quiet night as you giggled like teenagers, the spontaneity of it all making you feel light, carefree.

He fumbled with his keys for a moment, the sound of metal clinking against metal filling the air before he managed to unlock the door. You stepped inside, the warmth of the house a stark contrast to the chill of the rain outside. The living room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the faint glow of the night sky through the large windows. The shadows played across the walls, casting everything in a soft, almost ethereal light.

You tossed off your jacket, letting it fall to the floor, your clothes clinging to your skin from the rain. You could feel the fabric sticking to your body, the dampness making you shiver slightly, but the heat in the room—and the heat between the two of you—kept you from feeling cold. Cillian wandered off somewhere for a moment, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited, the anticipation almost unbearable.

When he returned, his eyes locked onto yours, a predatory glint in his gaze that made your breath hitch. He took a step closer, the distance between you shrinking to almost nothing as he asked, his voice low and laced with a hint of something dangerous, “What should we do now?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with suggestion, and you felt a rush of heat flood through you, your pulse quickening. You moved toward him, your steps slow and deliberate, closing the gap until you were inches away. “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” you murmured, your voice trembling slightly despite the bravado in your words.

His hand reached up, fingers brushing against your cheek before trailing down to remove a stray piece of hair stuck to your face. His touch was light, almost reverent, but it sent sparks of electricity through your skin, making you feel like you were on fire. His hand continued its path down your arm, and you followed it with your eyes, watching as his fingers traced the outline of your veins, the simple action making your breath catch in your throat.

He moved his hand up to your shoulder, his fingers ghosting over the strap of your top before slowly sliding it down, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. Your skin burned under his touch, a mix of desire and something else—something that felt like shame, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It felt too good, too right.

His hand slid up to your neck, his grip firm but not painful as he held you there, your breathing coming in short, ragged gasps. You clung to his black t-shirt, your fingers digging into the fabric as you tried to steady yourself, but the room seemed to spin around you, the intensity of the moment making you dizzy.

Cillian’s eyes bore into yours, his expression dark and filled with an unspoken promise as he whispered, his voice rough and filled with desire, “Tell me what you want.”

You wanted him—every part of him. You wanted to forget everything else, to lose yourself in this moment, to give in to the desire that had been simmering between you for days. And as his grip tightened slightly on your neck, pulling you closer until your lips were just a breath away from his, you knew there was no turning back.

"Kiss me," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

So he did. He kissed you, long and slow. His lips were soft yet urgent, and you melted into his touch. Your hands found their way to his damp hair, tangling in the strands as you deepened the kiss, savoring every moment. His breath mingled with yours, warm and laced with the faint taste of whiskey, his hands still cradling your face as if you were something fragile, something to be cherished.

But then the kiss deepened, the restraint unraveling as the need between you grew too powerful to contain. His hands slid from your face down to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between your bodies. The kiss became more urgent, more demanding, as if he was trying to consume you, to lose himself in you. You responded in kind, your own hands gripping his t-shirt, pulling him closer, wanting more—needing more. The heat between you intensified, the tenderness giving way to something hotter, something that felt like it had been a long time coming.

The rain continued to patter softly against the windows, a distant sound that seemed to fade into the background as your focus narrowed to just him—to the way his hands gripped your waist, to the way his breath hitched when you bit down softly on his lower lip.

You started moving backward, the need to feel him against you overwhelming any thought of where this might be going. Your feet stumbled slightly as you both moved toward the couch, the dim light from the windows casting your entwined shadows across the floor. He guided you, his hands firm and sure, but there was a tenderness in the way he led you, as if he was still holding back, still trying to keep a grasp on the control that was slipping away.

You reached the edge of the couch, and he paused for a moment, his gaze intense as he looked at you, his chest heaving with the effort to catch his breath. “You're in control here,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper, thick with the weight of the question, with the possibility of what was about to happen. "We stop whenever you want to, okay?"

Ever so polite, you thought. You answered him by pulling him down with you, your lips finding his again with a renewed urgency. The cushions gave way beneath you, the soft fabric enveloping you both as you sank into it. His body pressed against yours, the weight of him grounding you.

As the kiss deepened, became more frantic, more desperate, you could feel the tension in him—the barely restrained control he was struggling to maintain. His hands roamed over your body, landing on your jeans and slowly playing with the button, a silent request for permission.

"Don't stop now," you teased, your voice barely audible against his lips. He responded by deepening the kiss even further, his hands moving with purpose as he unbuttoned your jeans. He stopped for a moment, lowering himself to his knees in front of you, his hands taking off your shoes before sliding your jeans down your legs. He positioned himself between your legs once again, kissing you rough this time.

The couch was vast and soft underneath you as one of his hands traveled up your thigh—still not as high as you wanted it. You let out a needy moan, encouraging him. When his fingers brushed against the edge of your already wet panties, you couldn't help but arch your back in anticipation. He pushed them aside, his eyes never leaving yours. When his fingertips made contact with the wetness of your folds, he groaned too, in a way you found very satisfying.

"I've thought about this…a lot," he murmured, slipping a finger inside you, making you gasp with pleasure. "What you might sound like. What you might taste like. What you might feel like."

He pulled away from you swiftly, and you moaned at the loss. He kneeled down in front of you, his gaze intense as he leaned in to kiss your inner thigh, sending shivers down your spine. He pulled down your panties. You went stiff, suddenly aware of how exposed you were. He opened your thighs a little more, as if he wanted to see more. "I want to make you feel good," he whispered. "Let me taste you."

"Yes," you breathed out.

You couldn't stop looking at him as he pleasured you, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. Each flick of his tongue and gentle bite made you arch your back in ecstasy, completely lost in the moment. His hands tightened around your thighs, pulling you closer to his face. He groaned in pleasure, and you opened your thighs wider. His tongue was thorough and deliberate, exploring every inch of you with precision. Your hands grabbed the couch cushions, trying to ground yourself as you felt yourself spiraling into pure bliss. And just when you started to roll your hips, he slid two fingers inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made you gasp and moan uncontrollably.

It was too much. Pleasure consumed you as you arched your back violently against his touch and you moaned his name over and over again, letting go. You were drunk on him— his touch, his mouth, his scent—lost in the euphoria of the moment.

"Fuckin' incredible."

Well, yes, fucking incredible indeed. But not as incredible as it would feel to have him inside you completely, filling every inch of you. To reduce him to the whimpering mess he had just turned you into.

Before Cillian could do anything, you sat up and pushed him flat to the floor. You were both drunk and too eager to make it to the bedroom, so you might as well just do it right there on the living room rug.

He grunted in surprise, but his hands quickly found their way to your hips as you straddled him, pulling you closer. You removed your top, your breasts spilling out as you leaned down to capture his lips in a hungry kiss. His fingers gently tangle in your hair as you pull away from his mouth, pulling his black t-shirt over his head and tossing it aside.

He stopped breathing as you worked your way down his chest, leaving a trail of kisses and nibbles until you reached the waistband of his jeans. Your hands made quick work of the button and zipper, and you eagerly slid them down his legs, revealing his growing arousal.

When your fingers wrapped around it—fuck—his skin felt hot and smooth against your touch, his breath hitching. You positioned yourself to take him in your mouth, savoring the taste of his desire as you licked a slow, teasing path along his cock. Cillian let out a ragged moan, his hands tangling in your hair.

You lifted your eyes. He had propped himself up on his elbows, watching you with his lips parted, pupils blown.

You had him.

You took him deeper, relishing the way he arched into your mouth, his groans spurring you on. With each flick of your tongue, you could feel him losing control, surrendering to the pleasure you were giving him. "Fuck, stop," he gasped, his voice strained with need. "I need to be inside you."

“Condom?” you asked, the question hanging in the thick air between you.

“Upstairs,” he said, his voice rough, almost pleading.

You hesitated for just a second. “I don’t mind… if you don’t.”

For a moment, he froze, his blue eyes darkening as they searched yours, as if to make sure he’d heard you right. Then, with a low growl that sent shivers down your spine, he nodded.

You released him with a smirk and sat up, swung over him. You positioned yourself so that his hands were on your hips, guiding you down onto him. The anticipation was electric, every nerve in your body alive with the need to be closer to him, to feel him, completely and without anything between you.

As you sank onto him, his eyes rolled back in ecstasy, a low moan escaping from both of you. The feeling of being filled by him sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire between you that burned hotter with each thrust. Your hands clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as you matched his rhythm, lost in the intensity of the moment.

This was going to end you.

His movements became more urgent, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered your name. The room was filled with the sound of your mingled gasps and moans, a symphony of pleasure that seemed to echo off the walls. He felt so good, so right. His thrusts became more deep and harsh—you wanted even more. As if he read your mind, he sat up against the couch and kissed you deeply, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

"Bloody hell," he murmured against your lips, both his hands grabbed your face as he looked deeply into your eyes, and you circled your arms around his neck, pulling him closer and circling your hips in rhythm with his. Your breasts pressed against his chest, the heat between you both rising as your bodies moved in perfect synchronization. He was close—you were close. His hands roamed your back, your ass, and your breasts, and you threw your head back when his mouth found its way to your nipples.

"Oh fuck," you gasped, "Yes, oh—" you screamed as white-hot pleasure shot through your body, causing you both to reach the peak of ecstasy together. You felt his cock swell, filling you completely as he released with a guttural groan.

The intensity of the moment left you both breathless, bodies entwined in a tangled mess of limbs and sweat. He had leaned back to the floor, and you had gone with him. He was rubbing your back, and your face was pressed to his chest.

"You okay, love?" he asked softly, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin. You hummed, feeling content and safe in his arms, basking in the afterglow of your shared pleasure.

You stayed like that for a moment, feeling his chest rise and fall beneath you, the quiet rhythm of his breathing syncing with yours. His fingers kept tracing those gentle patterns on your back, grounding you, reminding you that you were still here, still connected. The afterglow wrapped around you both, a warmth that made you feel safe, cherished. You could still feel him inside you.

“How bad would it be if we just stayed here?” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking louder might shatter the moment. There was a part of you that didn’t want to move, didn’t want to break the spell.

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest, and you could feel the rumble against your cheek. “Well, love,” he said, his voice laced with amusement, “I’m not sure how comfortable the floor will be in about twenty minutes, but I’d say it’s worth a try if you are.”

You laughed, the sound light and free. “Fair point,” you conceded, shifting slightly to look up at him. His eyes were warm, a little teasing, but there was an underlying tenderness that made your heart skip a beat.

“Come on,” he said gently, his hands sliding down your sides as he carefully helped you up. “Let’s get cleaned up. I promise the bed is much more inviting.”

He rose to his feet, extending a hand to help you up. You accepted, your legs feeling a little shaky as you stood, still a bit lightheaded from everything that had just happened. His hands lingered on your hips, steadying you, and you couldn’t help but smile at the care in his touch.

Together, you made your way upstairs, his arm draped around your shoulders as he guided you toward his bedroom. The space was warm, cozy, with a lived-in feel that made it undeniably his. The bed was unmade, sheets rumpled, as if he’d just gotten out of it before coming to find you.

He led you to the bathroom, where the soft glow of a single light illuminated the space. He turned on the shower, testing the water temperature before gesturing for you to step inside. You did, letting the hot water cascade over you, washing away the remnants of the night, though the memory of it clung to your skin. He joined you a moment later, his hands gentle as he helped you rinse off, his touch tender, almost reverent. You stood under the water together, letting the steam envelope you both.

When you were both clean, he handed you a towel, wrapping another around his waist. He left the bathroom for a moment and returned with a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, offering them to you.

“Here,” he said with a soft smile. “This will do.”

You took the clothes, slipping them on. The fabric was soft, worn in, and it smelled like him—woodsy, with a hint of something earthy and warm. You found yourself breathing it in, the scent comforting in a way you hadn’t expected.

When you were both dressed, he led you to the bed, pulling back the covers and slipping in beside you. He held the blanket up for you, and you slid in next to him, the cool sheets a welcome contrast to the warmth of his body. He immediately pulled you close, his arm wrapping around your waist as you nestled into his side, your head resting on his chest once more.

The room was dark, but the faint light from outside filtered in through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the walls. You could hear the rain still pattering against the window, a soothing backdrop to the quiet intimacy between you. His hand found yours under the covers, fingers intertwining as he held you close, his breath warm against your forehead. You could feel his heartbeat under your palm, steady and reassuring, and it lulled you into a state of deep relaxation.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but you knew he heard you. You don't know for what exactly you were thanking him, but it felt like the right thing to say in that moment.

He responded with a gentle squeeze of your hand, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your hair.

You didn’t need to say anything more. The silence between you was comfortable, filled with unspoken understanding. You both knew that tonight had changed something between you, something profound and unnameable, but for now, it was enough to just be here, together.

a/n: there you have it, i hope you guys liked it!! please like, reblog and comment. i wanna hear your thoughts! and as always, thank you for the support <3

[battydora]

masterlist | rules | pinned post

synopsis: they lose a bet and they have to take a shot from your breasts (inspired by: this tiktok)

cw: suggestive, drabbles, modern au, human hantengu (i refer to them as demons anyways lol), gn. reader (afab), written with a chubby reader in mind, reader has big breasts, pet names, consensual, mentions of alcohol, drinking games, teasing, + sekido's confession

note: i saw that tiktok and can't stop thinking about it, so i decided to do it with hantengu clones, self indulgent because i want to stop feeling insecure about my chest and i need them to drink a shot from my tiddies, yeah that'll do it. i wanted to do this only with sekido but the others can join too bye im so gross about these four (btw sekido is my favourite so his part is longer, i'm not sorry) btw karaku is shamelessly dirty lmao i love him

UROGI

"haha! you lost, urogi!" karaku's voice yelled as he jumped from his seat on the ground, throwing his cards to the table out of excitement.

"ah, screw you, karaku" the joy demon complained, also throwing his cards to the table aswell looking rather annoyed, side eyeing you. he hid the fact of actually being excited about losing a bet, i mean, with a bet like that who would like to win? whatever's the case, he remained calm and collected despite everything.

"oh that's a shame" your voice spoke, sarcasm asserting presence in your tone, you were obviously not against the idea, you agreed this from the very beggining because, come on, how could you not take the chance of any of these four to bury his face into your chest?

you grab the little glass and the bottle of vodka from the table and start serving a shot. the four demons dagged their glares at you as you unbottoned a... suggestive amount of bottons of your shirt, a little smile growing on your face as you -tried to- hide your excitement for the upcoming events. you grabbed the glass and stuck it between your breasts, your hands pushing both of them together so the glass didn't pour. urogi, sekido, aizetsu and karaku looked at you a bit astonished, sekido glares away quickly, aizetsu stares for a few seconds before also looking away and karaku looks at urogi with a devilish grin, almost encouraging him. urogi didn't hesitate and, with a wide smile, walked towards you and knelt infront of you.

"okay babe, are you ready?" he asks, clearly full of confidence, he seemed excited, like a small child who just got gifted a candy.

"i was born ready" you teased pushing your chest closer to him, he flinched slightly, his eyes widen just as his smile in response, however, he was no chicken. his hands were about to hold your waist but karaku stopped him instantly, a grin on his face.

"ah, ah. no hands!" you both look at him, then at eachother. you smirked once again and winked at urogi, challenging, he only chuckled as a response and, with his hands well hid behind his back, he buried his face in your chest. he missed a few times before actually getting to the glass, his tough lips made contact lightly with your chest, making him laugh just a little bit, you bit your lower lip with a grin as you saw him struggle. you giggled as he took the glass out and threw his head back drinking the liquid within the glass, now grabbing it with his hand.

he sighed out a laugh after, shaking his head due to the alcohol burning his throat. he looked directly into your eyes with a wide smirk.

"now that was fun!"

KARAKU

"oh man, come on!" karaku throws his head back as his hands slam the table, grunting at loosing to aizetsu "you cheated!"

"you can't accuse me of that, you cheated in the first place" aizetsu protested, putting his cards down calmly "stick to the consequences"

"yeah, you're no one to speak, karaku" your teasing voice said, as you crossed your arms with a grin, karaku's annoyance dissapeared in less than a second when he shrugged and smiled back at you.

"ah, as if the consequences were so terrible anyways. let me see 'em babe!" he was shameless while asking, you laugh at him before unbottoning your upper buttons, exposing your bare chest only covered by your bra, his eyes and smile widen in excitement, he looked like a puppy.

"you will excuse me" he added taking the bottle and glass to fill it himself and stuck it between your boobs, you laughed at his lewd and fun look on his face when he stared at your chest "cheers!"

those were the last words you heard from him before he buried his face in your breasts, purposefully staying in place for a few seconds wrapping the glass with his mouth to have you close for a little longer.

"get it over with, karaku!" sekido was the one to scold the green eyed for staying there for more time that he should have, not that you minded tho.

so, just to tease both sekido and karaku, your hands pushed your boobs up just so karaku would sink in them even more, his laughter was muffled by his mouth being busy with a glass to then finally pull it away and drink the alcohol within. he took the little glass and chuckled with his precious laugh and looked at sekido.

"in your face, sekido!"he mocked and the red eyed just grunted, looking away. karaku then looked at you "sorry babe, i'm tempted, can i give any of your buddies a hickey?" he shamelessly asked, your eyes widened as you saw from the corner of your eye how sekido and aizetsu grossed out at him, which only made you laugh out loud.

"yes baby boy, go ahead" you heard an annoyed 'oh come on! you're disgusting!' coming from sekido aswell as you heard urogi laughing at the whole situation, granting you some sort of satisfaction, this was fun.

"man, cheating was so so worthy!" karaku cheered to himself before putting his mouth to use again.

SEKIDO

"this is ridiculous, i'm not doing it." sekido is the first one to make an objection against the bet HE accepted.

"oh no! you're not backing away like a coward!" urogi laughs at him, shaking his head.

"yeah, man, you can't bet and then not confront the consequences" karaku backs up urogi, laughing at sekido's face right now, man's infuriated.

"shut up both of you!" he states loudly, crossing his arms, avoiding any sort of eye contact with you, he is denial... and embarassment.

"you accepted the challenge, sekido. don't be a pussy" you say now, your elbow resting on the living room table, your face is one of amusement and your eyes locked on the anger demon. he does not answer to you so karaku speaks again.

"if you're not gonna do it, i will" his grin is devilish, he tries to touch a nerve in sekido. the red eyed demon turns to him absolutely furious, more than he normally is.

"fine, shut up, let's get this over with" he grunts and sighs, karaku laughs at him.

"that's the attitude, i knew you weren't so stubborn to let this chance pass by" urogi teases now, you laugh at all the teasing to the poor sekido and serve the drink in the small glass. the red eyed simply groans and decides to ignore them, now putting his attention solely on you.

he kneels infront of you, his knees glued to eachother and fists sitting on them almost shyly, he frowns at you but then looks down, avoiding looking at you, only for a second until he notices you begin to unbotton your shirt, then is when he becomes nervous, he tries so hard to not look at your chest, he is already so embarassed for doing this and can barely look at you. he can't avoid it any longer and eventually lifts his gaze and takes a look at the glass sitting between your big breasts, a beautiful black bra cupping them so prettily. the view is arousing and makes sekido actually thirsty. you stare at his astonished look and make him snap back by pressing your chest lightly.

"what's the matter? gonna try to chicken out again?" you tease in a playful and sweet voice, making the blush on sekido's face grow wider. he gulps and responds.

"of course not, i'm no coward"

he builds up courage from his own words and leans to your chest, his face flushes in dark red when his skin touches yours as he tries to catch the glass with his mouth and pull it out as soon as possible to end this embarassment. his hand lands on your thigh for support (yeah, support...) squeezing softly before finally pulling out the little thing out of your chest, throwing his head back drinking the alcohol in it. the hand touching you takes the glass and slams it to the table.

"done." yep, you definitely enjoy when he's upset like he is in this very moment, his fanged grimace remaining on place as he returns to his seat, avoiding eye contact with you for the rest of the night, because he knows you're looking at him with that look, that exact look you make when you want to tease someone. not that he feels disgusted, he just doesn't want to lose himself infront of his friends.

later that night, you stay over at the hantengu's place, karaku, urogi and aizetsu went to bed a little bit tipsy from a fun night and you're about to do the same until you come across sekido in the hallway, he is dressing the loose t-shirt and shorts he uses as pijamas, his angered expression looking strangely soft right now, or maybe you are imagining it, the hallway is dark and the alcohol in your system is not entirely gone.

"hey, i just wanted to say, i wouldn't mind taking another shot from that chest of yours anytime" he states confidently but in a low voice, the statement surprises you but you play along, whispering some words in response.

"oh yeah? what changed your mind? you seemed vexed carrying out the bet earlier" you look directly into his deep red eyes, he frowns before answering.

"i don't like being watched, those bastards were putting a lot of pressure, i didn't enjoy it as i wanted to"

"aw you're adorable" you say, smiling playfully. you walk to him, standing only a few centimeters away from him, your hand landing on his muscular chest and going down, teasingly "how about we go to your room and try again? bet you'll enjoy it accordingly this time" his angered expression changes for an instant when a teeth showing grin appears on his face, nodding in agreement.

"i would love to rip off that pretty black bra after"

AIZETSU

"do i really have to do this...?" the sorrow demon asks, as if he could back away now that he is kneeling in front of you, chest on full display, a glass of vodka already waiting for him.

"i mean, can you really chicken out now?" karaku says, chuckling to himself.

"yeah, you have to do it" urogi follows, giggling knowing aizetsu has the fattest crush on you and that this was definitely not in his plans.

"i guess i don't have other choice..."

his lips are twisted in an awkward grimace, his face is red as sekido's eyes, he is so ashamed and embarassed right now, he just wants to end this.

'why do i get myself in these situations...' he thinks to himself, trying not to panic as he leans forward, his hands are shyly sitting on his lap.

he is a sweetheart, he loves you (and desires you) deeply but he will do anything in his power to have the littlest touch with your breasts as possible, even if you consented to this. he is very respectful of you no matter the circumstances. however, he kinda fails his commitment because the glass is unfairly buried in your chest (you did that on purpose to tease him, poor thing) so he had a hard time getting it. after some hard work, he finally manages to pull the glass out and drink the alcohol within, his face is red as ever and his eyes avoid yours at all costs.

"d-done, i'm going to my room now, excuse me"

"oh, aizetsu, man come on! it's okay!" urogi tries to cheer him up but the blue eyed already headed to his room, you start to feel lowkey bad for him, what if he didn't like it?

"i feel bad now... was that really okay? he seemed upset" you say with a guilty tone, furrowing your brows, thinking you might've ruined the night for aizetsu.

"no babe don't feel bad! ... i'm not sure if we should tell you this but-" karaku begins to talk but is soon shut by sekido interrupting him.

"the dumbass has a crush on you, it's so dang obvious" he grunts crossing his arms, his revelation actually surprised you, i mean aizetsu kinda hit on you in past situations but you may not have noticed it because his signals were a bit subtle, so it wasn't so obvious for you, maybe to them it was because they're his closest friends.

"oh... is that so?" you ask, still a bit shocked.

"yeah" karaku speaks again "so, if i were you, i would check on him" he smiles rising a brow at you with a smug smile, clearly suggesting you should have some alone time with the blue eyed.

"yeah! we won't bother you" urogi chuckles, winking at you.

"just don't make too much noise or i'm kicking you out" sekido adds, frowning.

you try to hide your blushing face laughing amusingly at them, you loved these dorks so much, supporting you in this whole thing, maybe the night isn't exactly ruined, more seems like it just begins.

thanks for reading!

[vampykween]

toxic ex(?)husband!simon where he's all alone in his home, wife moved out across the city with their two girls, steps on something on the carpet and its the earring the missus lost a few days ago while moving out. it was a simple diamond stud earring, the pair being a gift from him during date night, once upon a time a long long time ago. he might bawl or lose himself in alcohol. or come crawling back; people change after all, right?

simon would actually spiral so hard over this. he's left alone in a house that's far too big, empty with all the furniture you took, along with all the laughter and joy you and the girls brought to the home. he hangs onto the earring as he storms around every corner of the house as if that'll make his girls materialize right in front of him. he's so fucking angry at himself. he vowed to be better than his father, and sure he doesn't drink himself under the table and smack around his family, but was he really any better?

he thinks about cracking open a bottle of Kentucky, the one you got him for his birthday, even though he's always insisted on not doing gifts (you always got him one anyway). if he drinks away the pain, perhaps it'll ease the ache of losing his family (again, only this time it really was his fault), but then he sees your face flash across his mind and he knew you'd hate for him to drown himself in alcohol; at least he hoped you cared, he wasn't sure if you really did anymore and he can't even blame you.

after he's sufficiently drunk, he decides he didn't even care if he drank himself to death in his now empty living room, he considers calling you. it isn't too late, only half past ten, so he knows you're still up; he's not sure what he would even say though. there aren't enough apologies in the world to win you back, you've made that abundantly clear, but god he misses your voice. the voice that nagged at him, that yelled at him, that kissed him with so much love. how could he have taken you for granted? he knows you'll get onto him about calling so late when it's not about the girls, but he needs you so badly it hurts.

"simon?" he lets out a drawn-out sigh of relief, he hadn't expected you to answer really. he goes to respond, but it feels like every word is lodged in his throat. "si, im tired. i really can't with this," you reply tiredness was evident in your tone. he hoped the girls weren't being too much for you, then again it's not like he was ever much more help when you all were under one roof. the way you whispered out the shortened version of his name made his heart race, perhaps this phone call would go much better than he expected.

he finally finds his voice after a moment, "baby... i miss you," he slurs out. he's not sure what he's expecting you to say back.

"you really have a knack for being too little too late, simon. goodnight, and please don't call me like this again. you don't get to drunkenly pour your heart out to me now." well that was definitely not what he wanted you to say. there's an edge to your voice that, despite the situation, sends him reeling. he secretly prays that this will all be some sick nightmare, that he'll wake up, roll over, and pull you into his arms. except he's awake, standing drunk and alone in a house that no longer feels like home.

[eightballspins]

(๑>؂•̀๑) how they act when they're drunk

pairing : p1harmony x male reader

rating : fluffy and comedy bc im funny <3

requested : yes !!! thank u for ur request <3 plss dont b afraid to send me some more, no matter who or if its ot6 (it just might take me a thousand years...) i love getting requests sm hehe

warnings : obvs mention of alcohol and being intoxicated

ᯓᡣ𐭩 yoon keeho

i see keeho as an EMOTIONAL DRUNK, like incredibly vocal about everything he is feeling at all times. he acts just like an incredibly clingy, emotional drunk that won’t get off of you. we already know how touchy he is when hes sober (rip jiung LMAO), imagine that when he’s 1. super sensitive 2. constantly wanting to feel love from you, his boyfriend, and 3. incredibly vocal about everything but especially — wanting to physical touch from you. you’d probably have to reason with him for twenty minutes why you need to leave him for twenty seconds just to piss.

“kyo, i need to pee so bad, i don’t think you get it,”

“no! you don’t get how, if you leave me here, i’ll die. i’ll seriously die. i think i’ll stop breathing or something.”

“that won’t happen.”

“you won’t know that for sure until it happens — and then what?!”

you eventually have to settle for bringing him into the bathroom where he has the right mind to just stand in the corner in silence while you do your business. it’s a really funny sight, his head hanging low and an obvious pout on his lips.

“i feel like” is the beginning of a lot of his sentences where he proceeds to explain everything he is feeling about everything in grand detail. it’s a cute thing he does, but sometimes you do have to cut him off because he has zero filter and could possibly end up offending someone (”i feel like that girl’s boyfriend right across the couch from us, that’s staring right at us, with the really ugly outfit is really, really, ugl-” “oh! wow, shouldn’t you be drinking some more water, kyo? hahah…”)

he apologizes several times throughout the night for being so bothersome, but really, it’s not that big of a deal. just because you have to listen to him ramble for a little longer than usual and sometimes choose your words more carefully, but it really isn’t as if it’s the end of the world. just be sure to reassure him at the end of the night that you didn’t mind keeping him company and stuff and he’ll be a happy man.

“i’m sorry for being so much when i’m drunk…and always saying i won’t get drunk like this again,” he whispers softly, his hand playing with your fingers as your sat in the now quiet living space. you retract your hand from his, moving it to play with his loose strands of hair.

“it’s okay, i don’t really mind, y’know? i’ll always be here,” your smile melts his heart and for some reason he starts crying.

“i just love you so much and i don’t know what i did to deserve you, you’re the perfect boyfriend and i’m just here crying, i’m sorry,” his sobs get progressively louder and it takes everything in you to not chuckle at his abnormally emotional self. you just comfort him, whispering sweet nothings into his ear until he properly calms down into an eventual nap.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 choi taeyang

i think theo is the type of drunk to either go COMPLETELY SILENT or COMPLETELY YAP someone’s ear off. he already has so much to say when he’s sober (he’s so funny i love him), so when he’s drunk, that either gets amplified to a million or completely shut down. the night could look like you constantly asking him if he’s okay as he stares off into the void or you having to constantly stop him from causing a really messy altercation with his unfiltered opinions. he acts like a complete prince to you, though, trust he will bat his eyes all pretty and pretend as if he didn’t just insult a person to filth right in front of you.

on the nights where he goes silent, you have to constantly just nudge him and ask if he’s okay. he looks up at you with wide, blank and slowly nods his head, which makes you reiterate your question, and he does the same thing. it’s a little bit scary how quiet and to himself he gets, but at least you don’t have worry about him bouncing off the walls idk. if he ever needs help with something or just wants your attention, he will just tug on you or your clothes, literally being silent the entire time.

feeling a lazy hand pull on yours, you turn to taeyang and raise your brows in question. he motions over to the bottle of water in his hands (that he had gotten himself when you weren’t looking) and makes a twisting motion with his freehand. obviously, you comply, opening the water bottle for him and handing it over without question.

“you feeling okay?” you ask softly, sitting next to him and brushing his hair aside. he nods after gulping down the water, leaning against your shoulder and taking a deep breath. he’s so mellowed out like this that he falls asleep on your shoulder and stays like that until he wakes. he goes to sleep thankful that he has such a patient boyfriend and a smile on his face, his hand reaching for and holding yours before he knocks out.

on the other hand, if you’re dealing with the loud and chaotic taeyang, i wish you all the best…this man is a straight menace. there is a high chance he could end up pissing off the wrong person at some point of the night and you need to drag him out of a situation before it gets really bad. he’s a very straightforward man, obviously, but when he’s sober he has a filter most of the time and knows the right time and place. when he’s drunk, that differentiation he has for that goes out the window.

“why did you wear those pants and shirt, they’re ugly together.” he says frankly to a drunk keeho, whose face scrunches up at the blatant insult and looks as if he is about to cry, which taeyang then eggs on, “wait don’t cry, that’d be really sad if the reason you were to cry is because of your own decision,”

“taeyang, enough! oh my god,” you say, pulling him away from the keeho who was now curled up on the floor and clutching his clothes.

“oh, hi, baby,” he grins and throws an arm around your shoulder, dragging you down immensely with his weight, “i didn’t see you there,” a cheesy line he says almost every time he’s drunk, “do you like my outfit today? i chose it with you in mind,” he blows you a kiss and you have to hold yourself back from smooshing his face with your hand.

“just shh, please, before you say something so cheesy-”

“woah! that girl’s boyfriend is really ugly! should we help her? do you think he’s holding her hostage?!” his loud, booming voice fills the room and it takes everything in you to not abandon him there to fend for himself.

immediately, you bow to the couple and say quick apologies and move to hopefully move taeyang away from the scene. but he just puts more gasoline on the fire by kindly saying, “miss, do you need help? put the number three up if that strange man is bothering you!”

“taeyang, please, shut up!”

ᯓᡣ𐭩 choi jiung

oh my god jiung gets really PHILOSOPHICAL, like really philosophical. and he gets a little sappy, but most of the time he reels it in before he gets overly emotional. out of nowhere, he’ll ask you the most complex moral questions or things about the universe and fate and stuff like that, then immediately follow it up with, “oh, well, whatever :D” as if he didn’t just make you rethink your life choices. but it ends up being a sweet behavior of his because it somehow ends with him bashfully praising you and being explicitly very thankful for the relationship the two of you have.

“i read somewhere,” he starts and you knew that you were in for a rough one, “that some people believe that they’re connected with their soulmate through an invisible red string. have you ever heard of that?”

“i have,”

“do you believe in it?”

“…i don’t know, that’s a really complex subject — fate and stuff,”

he shrugs, looking onward at seemingly nothing, “i don’t think it’s that believable but then i think about us and i start to believe in stuff like that,” there’s a long pause before he says, “but also, i think fate isn’t completely responsible for us meeting. i don’t know how to explain it, but i don’t want to give all the credit of our relationship to something like fate — i feel like we’re more than that, y’know?”

his question leaves you contemplating everything about your relationship, trying to think like jiung and imagine.

“if people believe that there is a string connecting them to their soulmate, they probably would leave everything up to fate and not actively search for their soulmate, right? i don’t think that was the case with me — well, i wasn’t always trying to find someone for me, but i don’t…hm, i don’t know how to word it. what do you think?”

“i think…” there’s silence as you think about how to formulate your words, settling on, “i just know i love you, jiung, it shouldn’t be that complicated.”

he processes your words for a couple of seconds before laughing as if you had said the funniest thing in the world. the type of laugh that makes him drop his jaw and release gasps for air from how hard he was laughing. his hand was now holding yours and he’s squeezing as if his life depends on it.

“you’re right,” he manages in between gasps of air, “you’re right. i love you too, that’s enough,” he drops his head into your shoulder where he hums in content, “yes, i should just think about how lucky i am to even have you — no matter how it happened or what the chances were because that doesn’t matter now. what matters now is that we are now together,” he links your pinkies together, grinning wide like a child, “i love it, how we’re so connected.”

“by that string you were talking about?” you tease, making him shake his head.

“no, just how we work together and how you love me and how i love you,”

his heartfelt words and unusually very sincere considering his current state, but you accept them with a genuine smile and knocking of his forehead against yours. a drunk man’s words are his sober thoughts, or however the saying goes.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 hwang intak

intak…he’s so funny bruh. he’s an ENTERTAINER drunk, the party guy that ends up getting all the attention, but really that wasn’t his end goal. he’s definitely the type to pretend to want all the attention on him, but really he just wants to impress you…even though you’re already dating…he wants to be the only one you look at and will put on a show in order for that to happen.

someone was urgently calling your name, following it up with your boyfriends and something about the pool. obviously, concerned for his safety, you drop everything and rush to the backyard where the pool was.

“oh, there he is,” intak cheers, walking over and picking you up with his strong arms, “i was wondering where my baby was,” he’s sloppily kissing your cheek after that comment and grinning ear to ear the entire time.

“what’s going on? are you alright?” you ask, immediately concerned for his health.

“i’m fine, are you okay?” he shoots back, tilting his head to the side with a pout, “you feel good?”

“i feel great, but someone said something about you and a pool so i came running as soon as i heard,” you explained, taking in the scene and realizing that there were now people eagerly awaiting something.

“oh! that’s nothing!” he cheerfully says, booping your nose with his finger, “mr. worry over here, huh? that shows how much you love me, y’know?” he begins dragging you off to go inside, but someone from the surrounding crowd shouts.

“wait, intak!! you said you’d hold your breath underwater for two minutes! come on, man, i already bet money that you’d be able to!!”

intak grins ear to ear, not at all bothered by the person shouting, “oh! i’m not doing that anymore, sorrryyy!!” his apology is elongated with his voice dragging out the last syllable.

“what?! you can’t do that!”

“i just did — pfttt!” he sticks his tongue out and blows a raspberry before completely dragging you inside and into the house, “babe, wanna watch me stuff three cupcakes in my mouth?” he curiously asks, which you obviously deny in fear of his wellbeing (three cupcakes? he’d definitely choke on them and you were not aware of how to do the Heimlich maneuver).

“no, it’s okay intak,” you politely decline, making your way to the icebox that hopefully has spare waterbottles.

“did you know i could drink an entire water bottle in under seven seconds? here, let me show you-”

“no, no, it’s okay intak,” you repeat, grabbing his hand that was reaching for the bottle and putting it back to his side, “just drink the water normally okay?”

his eyes are just full of so much love, slightly tinged red, with his naturally red blushing cheeks and he obediently nods yes.

“yesss, sirrr!” he chants, going to drink the water at a normal pace.

after sitting down for a couple of seconds, you begin scanning the room for any free space you two could occupy. but intak interprets it as you losing interest in him so he says something drastic to get your attention again, “wanna see me do a backflip off the counter? i finally learned how to! (he did not.)”

“no, it’s okay, intak,” you repeat once more, smoothing out his hair and smiling softly at him. “how about i watch you get comfortable on the couch over there where you can take a breather?”

“well, as long as you watch me,” he agrees, a carefree smile on his face as he lets you guide him to the couch.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 haku shota

shota just likes sticking by your side when he’s drunk, a SILENT CLINGY drunk. hes an introverted extrovert so he only really wants to be near someone that he feels completely comfortable with, which at the top of that list would be you. he hangs by your side, almost completely silent. and when he isn’t silent, it’s the quietest random noises that he makes to get your attention.

“do you want some more water?” you ask your boyfriend, noticing that he was now nursing an empty water bottle. his big dark eyes look up at you and he nods his head in confirmation. you stand up to get the beverage and he follows suit, shooting up out of his sitting position and clinging to your arm as you navigate through the crowd.

it’s funny too because when he’s drunk he has a really weird and unexplainable possessive streak??? he is still silent when showing that possessiveness, so it really just looks and sounds like a jealous puppy that is following you around and trying to keep as many strangers away from you as possible. it’s cute since its incredibly harmless and it doesn’t warner any scolding or quick apologies from you whenever he does show any territorial behavior, instead you just look at his cute annoyed expression and appease him.

on the way to get his water, there was someone in the crowd that had recognized you and wanted to catch up. not seeing a problem with that, because there really isn’t any in the first place, you obliged and began chatting with them. it was a friendly convo, the person even greeting the silent shota by your side, but the man didn’t acknowledge them. after explaining how your boyfriend was a little out of it due to his intoxication, the person nodded in understanding. and shota thought that that would be the end of it…to his immense displeasure, the person didn’t leave you guys alone. and he was starting to feel more and more annoyed at their presence. he wrapped his hand around yours and squeezed tight enough that it got your attention. finally having your eyes on him, he batted his eyes at you innocently and motioned over to the empty water bottle you were still holding. remembering why you had even gotten up in the first place, you excuse yourself and soul from the conversation, which made smile in accomplishment.

“thank you,” he quietly whispers after accepting the water from you, leaning in for a soft kiss. you smile at his gentle behavior, immediately kissing back and then pulling away to let him drink some. he eagerly looks around like a lost puppy, as if he’s trying to find something. and just as you’re about to question him, he puts his head down in defeat and simply drinks.

“what was that?” you chuckle, bringing him in closer and smiling at his now slightly wet lips and sparkling eyes.

“nothing,” he says, leaning in for several more pecks in a row — which you obviously comply to. his clingy behavior and craving for your lips against his doesn’t falter at all through the night, but no one is complaining.

(he was trying to see if the person that was “bothering” you two earlier had seen the two of you be all lovey-dovey, but he couldn’t find them in the crowd)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 kim jongseob

jongseob is so funny when he’s drunk in the sense he’s a YAPPING and CLINGY mess, but SHYYY at the same time. at the beginning of the night, it isn’t that bad, to be honest. he’s capable of taking care of himself and standing on his own (literally and figuratively lmao) and even engaging in coherent conversation with others, but after a while he just wants to talk to you. yes, he’s still talking (probably about anything and everything too), but he just wants to stick by your side. oh, he’s also a really big blushing mess — acting like you guys are in middle school all over again and it's your first day as an officla couple, sometimes forgets you guys are actually dating and it’s not just a one sided crush (poor seobie lmao)

you and jongseob were sitting on the sidelines of the party. close enough that your legs were touching each others, but definitely not super cuddly on top of each other. your boyfriend was talking on and on about a vast variety of topics, sounding as if he was speaking in tongue twisters, but you really were trying your hardest to keep up. you were looking forward, but after hearing him stutter over his words a little, you turned to look towards him.

unsurprisingly, his eyes were already watching you and when you made eye contact he ducked his head down and began fiddling with his fingers. it was adorable, but it made you confused because ? did you have something on your face? or was he just not feeling good because the alcohol was catching up to him.

“you alright, babe?” his cheeks go ablaze at the pet name, but he aggressively nods his head to prove that he was fine.

“you wanna keep telling me about the progress of your island in animal crossing, then? i was really invested, y’know?” you grin and scoot closer to him, putting your arm around his seat and getting more comfortable.

“you were listening?” he asks quietly, hyper aware that your bodies were now much closer and you were leaning into him.

“of course i was, seob,” you answer easily, sighing in content. jongseob shyly holds your hand and moves closer to you, his face feeling as if it were going to explode from how hard he was blushing. he’s acting as if you haven’t been dating for the longest time.

give the two of you ten minutes uninterrupted and you’ll find jongseob shamelessly holding you close as he mutters mindless nothings as a way of staying awake. you offer several times to just go home, but he stubbornly argues that you two are too comfortable too move.

“i really like your eyes,” he says, studying your face and then pursing his lips, “but your nose is also really nice…and your lips, even your ears…unfair,” he sighs, dropping his head to rest on the couch cushion to his left as he faces you head on. you laugh at what seems to be a very serious dilemma for him, running your hand up and down his arm.

“what are you talking about, seob? you’re the prettiest guy i know, much prettier and more handsome than me,” you compliment to lift his spirits, but obviously all the sincerity is still there, “especially your smile,”

he buries his head into the cushion and you swear you hear him scream (?), but the music surrounding you guys could be making you delusional (you’re not he really did scream).

your boyfriend continues being a shy mess for as long as he’s drunk then begs for you to forget everything he said and how he acted when he’s sobered up because he’s so embarrassed.

[plush-rabbit]

The One Where Adam Steals Lucifer's Babe

Word Count: 4.9K A/N: I had an idea about this, but I wanted to get it out. This was supposed to be headcanons, but it turned into a story!! woo(•_•)  This is also not done. Like I wanted it to be be headcanons so bad, but i need to establish a plot line because im like dumb. um, so yeah. if this does become anything more, i think max three chapter Its written as if Adam is a sinner so yeah!! -

Dating the King of Hell should be easy- nothing short of bliss and love. And it is easy being with the King of Hell, when he has to make appearances, and he has to put up a front. But being with Lucifer is much more difficult. You know he’s not over Lilith, and you aren’t even close to being a replacement for her. And yet, he keeps you around. You can trick yourself that he still wants you, that maybe he does enjoy being with you. But lying to yourself doesn't make anything easier. You walk out of the castle without a word to Lucifer, childishly hoping that he’d figure out that you weren’t there on his own. On your stroll to nowhere in particular, you check your phone constantly, hoping to see a missed message or call from him- some type of form that he still takes notice of you. You have to silence your phone when you feel tears prick your eyes at the empty screen.

You wind up in some sleazy bar, a bit too tipsy, and far too melancholic  to do anything more than swirl a glass of alcohol with melting ice. You watch the condensation drip down the side of the glass, creating a ring over the coaster. Beside you, the chair scrapes, and your spirits are lifted. It’s Lucifer! He’s chased you down and now he’s going to apologize and proclaim his- your shoulders fall when you realize that it’s not Lucifer. The realization leaves you cold and far lonelier than you initially were. Instead, it’s Adam- the First Man. You wonder for a brief moment if he even still calls himself that.

“Mind your fuckin’ business,” he sneers, sitting beside you. He lifts his hand, and the bartender pushes a glass and a bottle towards him, muttering something about a tab under his breath before turning his attention elsewhere. 

You heard he had become a Sinner- the very thing he sought to kill for entertainment not that long ago. However, you had yet to see him since he was stabbed by Niffty. You wonder if his new form has a hole in his back now.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he tells you, malice tinged at his words, but he makes no real motion to actively wave you off. You’re sure he would have if he was still divine.

A closer inspection reveals that he’s in far worse shape than you could have imagined. A beard that’s in the awkward phase of growing out, deep bags under his eyes, and gaunt cheeks. Hell has not been kind to him. But, what else could you have expected? He was an exorcist- the exorcist- and now, he’s stuck in Hell. Honestly, you should be surprised that his head isn’t mounted somewhere.

You turn back to your drink, and wipe a line of condensation off. “I’m surprised you’d even show your face around these parts,” you mumble, taking a swig of your drink. It burns going down, and you try to hide your displeased expression.

“Fuck you,” he hisses out, taking a long drink from the bottle.

“You know, as a former exorcist, I’d suggest being nice to demons around these parts.” You raise your hand at the bartender, and he walks over, and places the tab in front of you. “You never know who you’re gonna piss off next.” You leave a hefty amount, enough to cover your drinks and leave a pretty tip. 

“What? You’re gonna sick Lucifer on me?” You turn to him, embarrassment hot on your cheeks, and he wears a crooked smile. “Your face and his are plastered everywhere I look.”

With a sigh, you push the check away from you. “Must suck for you,” you mumble. His response is to take a drink from the bottle. “I hated having my picture taken before,” you tell him, unsure if he’s even listening or not. “I felt that they never really got my good side.”

“I’d get photographed all the time in Heaven,” he says in a low tone after a moment of silence. “Bitches could never get enough of me.” You scrunch your nose at the word, and fold the straw wrapper into squares. “Fucking loved it.”

“Wish I loved the camera.” You cross your ankles together, tucking them under the seat of the stool. “I hated being looked at.”

There's a pause in the conversation, long enough that you believe the small talk has ended. You could go back to the castle but if Lucifer hadn't taken notice of your absence, you'd surely have a breakdown. Maybe you could go to the hotel. Charlie would understand. “You still get your picture taken?” Adam asks, his voice startling you. 

You tilt your head to the side, underneath the seat, your legs twist around themselves. “Not as often as I used to. I think it was more like uh-” you wave your hand around and the folded wrapper unfurls itself- “shock value? I think. Like the King of Hell downgrading to some resident.” You smile bitterly. “Not even a Goetia or anything.”

“A Goetia?”

“These magical birds.” You look at him. “You’ve been in Hell for a bit, haven’t you? I’m surprised you haven’t heard or seen them.”

“I don’t get out a lot.”

“‘Cause you’re hated?” You ask, a wicked tone laced in your words. Adam responds by  mocking your voice with the same question. You scoff with a smile on your face. “I wonder why, if you’re such a peach.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

It’s silent. And you watch as the bartender grabs your drink, leaving the coaster behind. A memory of drinking with Lucifer pops into your head- his honeyed smile as he pours you a glass of wine that you would have never been able to afford, to even be aware of such a delicacy that existed in Hell. Never would he have taken you to some dingy bar where less than savory individuals reside. 

You’ve been taken care of. Pampered and adored for a considerable amount of time, before all the light had dimmed. You should have never allowed yourself to get used to such treasures. You glance over at Adam, and wonder if he can understand. “Do you come here often?” You ask him, crossing your arms over the bar. He chokes on his drink and slams the bottle down. He gives you a bewildered stare and you raise your shoulders defensively. “What? I’m just asking,” you say. “The bartender looks like he knows you.” You catch the bartender’s eyes and he quickly looks away. “Or at least enough to keep a tab open.”

“There’s not much to do around here,” he answers.

You fill your cheeks with air and let it slowly blow out through pursed lips. There's plenty to do- sort of. Minus the drugs and sex, most of Hell's greatest features are stuck in other rings. “There’s the Cannibal Sector,” you offer. “You gotta be careful but Rosie is nice and she sells pretty things. I have this hairpin in the shape of a human hand.” Adam gives you a look. “It might be a real hand, huh.”

“The fuck are you even doing out of your castle.”

You deflate. “Rough night,” you say with a sigh. “What about you?”

“Rough night,” he answers

You nod in solidarity. “I’m not usually a drinker,” you confess. “The taste is a bit too bitter for my liking. But being at the castle just wasn’t-” it’s not for you, the pampered life, acting as a placeholder, the King- “I didn’t want to be there.”

When Adam fails to say anything else, you feel embarrassed to even say something like that to the former angel beside you. He wouldn’t care. He shouldn’t care. Why would he ever worry himself over the likes of you, when your supposed partner couldn’t. He sniffs, and places the bottle down. It’s nearly empty. 

“Where do you want to be then?” His eyes are still golden, unblinking as he stares. 

Gold meets your own eyes, and you flicker to the horns over his head, curling overhead much like his former exorcist mask. You look back at his eyes, at the way he holds the bottle loosely. “I don’t know,” you confess. 

There’s a moment of silence, and he finishes the last bit of alcohol. You wonder how many he usually drinks before he goes back home. “You wanna come over?” He asks, and there’s a shade darker that brushes against his cheeks, and he tries to ask nonchalantly, but he toys with the words, and he swallows too harshly for him to not be worried about your answer. As if he’s asking some forbidden question. But, you’re lonely, and you don’t want to be alone in a bar longer than you already have been. 

You look at the exit, half-hoping that Lucifer would be there, ready to take you to his home, and a part of you is glad that he isn’t there. You look back at Adam, and nod your head. “Lead the way,” you tell him.

The sound of the bartender yelling behind you about a tab, has you smiling, feeling as if you’re dining and dashing despite you having paid for your portion. Adam doesn’t seem to care, walking without breaking a stride, just waving his hand without looking back. 

It doesn’t take long before you’re climbing up steps that need to be looked at, rust falling off with each bounce. You’re sure that you can hear something unsavory going on in a room, but a whistle from Adam has you scurrying along. There’s no reason that you should know anything more than you already do. 

You enter his apartment, and take a careful look around. It’s messy- clothes strewn across, dishes left out, and you feel pity for him. A single couch is close enough to the rather small television, a coffee table that has paint chipping and dents is one of the few pieces of furniture in the rooms. A sliding door is closed, a few broken blinds giving you just a glimpse into the outside. “You certainly,” you pause, trying to find something nice to say, “have a place,” you end defeatedly. You stand near the door, clicking the lock into place, as if that would protect you from any dangers out in the world. Perhaps you should be worried about Adam, about the angel who would bear his fangs and be drenched in blood, too excited about senseless murder. But you catch him kicking things under the couch, trying to spruce up the place even if just by a smidge.

“Fuck you,” he says without conviction. He grabs at a pile of clothes and tosses it on top of a chair, leaving the couch clear for you and him to sit. Smiling softly, you take a seat. He places himself close to the arm rest, and watches as you look around. “I uh, I clean- sometimes.” He sounds unsure of himself.

“I like cleaning,” you tell him, grabbing at a magazine on the worn out coffee table. It’s some tabloid, and you see a snippet of you and Lucifer in the corner. You turn to the page where you two are supposed to be. It’s titled as “Issues at Home?” You frown, and turn to another page. “I like organizing and stuff. Um, it helps uh, Lucifer. He does a lot of projects.”

“You don’t got any?”

“I have hobbies, but they come and go.” Your eyes skim the page, talking about Velvette’s new clothing line. You pull your lips into a thin line, a part of you wants to wear her outfits, but you aren’t sure you could pull them off. “It’s all just-” you flutter a hand in the air- “you know, stuff.” You place the magazine back on the table. “What about you?”

He smiles and leans back on the couch, the cushion creasing under his weight. “I like to play the guitar.” You perk at the mention, and watch as he rests his hands over his stomach. “I was in a band. Played the guitar, got all the chicks that I wanted.”

“Were you good at the guitar?”

He nods his head. “Oh, you should’ve fucking seen me. I was like a fucking god on stage.” He holds his hands out and mimics a guitar. You huff out a laugh, and watch as he lets his hands fall. “I got to fuck whoever I wanted. And I mean, who wouldn’t want to fuck me? Look at me.” he tosses you a lazy look, matched with a sly smile, and you can see how people would be attracted to him. “I was the first dick– of course, everyone wanted me.”

“What songs would you perform?”

“Rock mostly.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Crowd went wild.”

“You’d perform in heaven?”

He shrugs. “Most of the time. If I felt bold, sometimes the band and I would do a show on Earth. I’m telling you humans would just throw themselves at you, begging to be fucked in some grimy ass restroom.”

You scrunch your nose. “Sounds gross.”

“It was,” he says with a faltering smile. He cocks his head to the side, and there’s a softness to his words. “Gross as shit, but the girls were hot.” 

You cross your ankles together, and turn to face him. Your arm cushions itself between the couch and your head to watch him. “Do you not play anymore?” you ask hesitantly,

He sucks on his bottom lip, teething at the skin, before letting it go. “I haven’t tried to summon my harp- guitar- shit, thing, since I’ve been here.” He closes his hands into a loose fist and kicks his legs up on the beaten coffee table. “There’s this pawn shop a few streets down, and they have this guitar for sale.”

“Are you thinking about buying it?”

“I have other shit to worry about.” He gives you a look, a fleeting sense of  exhaustion and acceptance that washes over him, that makes him feel a bit more real, a bit more like you. “It isn’t even that good.” He sounds like a child, trying to justify something to themselves. “It’s beat up, and the strings are probably worn-” he shakes his head- “it's not worth it.” You open your mouth to reassure him that it probably is worth it. That despite the condition that it’s in and the price for it, if he wants it, it's worth it. Even if he could never play it, even if it’ll never be restored to its original beauty, it would be his. You only manage to suck in a gulp of air, when a knocking at the balcony door grabs your attention. “Some fucking bird that keeps bothering me.” He looks over at you, and glances back to the door, and back at you. “I have a balcony. Wanna sit outside?”

You nod quickly, closing your mouth. “Yeah.” 

He walks past the door, and leaves it open for you. Just like when you entered, you close the door behind you, half-heartedly hoping that it won’t lock behind you. His balcony holds two chairs- both different kinds and both equally as rough looking. A part of you wonders where exactly he got this furniture. There’s a dying plant shoved in the corner, the leaves brown and stem wilting under the weight of the dying leaves. 

“Quit judging,” he snips. 

You scoff, a smile teasing at the corner of your lips. The air of Hell is cool, wind breezing over your skin and you stare down into the streets, watching as Imps and Sinners live their lives, peacefully uninterrupted. Sitting down, your breath hitches when the chair dips under your weight. It’s quiet between the two of you, silence in each other’s company where you both just stare at the world in front of you. 

You can see the holy light from the embassy, and you can see Heaven’s light- the rings that are protected by wings. It lights up the night sky far better than the pentagram ever has, and sitting under the light of it, makes you wonder if anything is different in Heaven since Adam’s death- or rather, reincarnation. “Do you miss Heaven?” You ask, before you can register the weight of the words that it holds. You turn to him, almost scared of any answer that he would give.

“That’s a stupid question,” he spits out. You don’t respond, and you stay looking at him. He turns his head to avoid your gaze, his legs stretching out in front of him. After a beat of silence, he looks ahead of him. “Yeah,” he breathes out. “I do.”

“What do you miss about it?”

“Full of fucking questions, aren’t ya?” He stays silent, and after a moment, he lets out a soft sigh. “Everything.”

“There’s not many stories about Heaven down here. You know, minus the ones that we all know. The golden gates-”

“Pearly gates,” he corrects. You look at him, and he has his eyes casted down. “They’re pearly.”

“The pearly gates,” you correct, “the clouds, the happiness and peace. I just- Other than that, there’s nothing else to go off of. But I guess, why would I know. Heaven seems so far away, like some mythical place.”

“Your boyfriend doesn’t talk about it?” Adam asks with a sneer.

“No,” you answer without hesitation. “He doesn’t like talking about Heaven. Sometimes-” you lick your lips- “Sometimes it feels like he hates everything and everyone down here. Like he can’t stand the idea that he’s stuck here.” You scratch your neck, and pinch your legs together. “It’s like the memories of Heaven are too painful.”

“That magazine said y’all were breaking up.”

“Maybe,” you answer.

“You can talk about it if you want. Would make this night a helluva lot more interesting.” You look at him. “I’m all ears.”

“And horns,” you tease.

“Fuck you,” he says with an impish tone.

You smile, and kick out your legs. Your phone buzzes, and with hope, you believe that it’ll be Lucifer. Your heart sinks when it’s only a notification from Sinstagram. With a frown, you silence your phone. “In the beginning, it was easy to forget that he was married. I mean, I always knew. He has her portraits hanging, and he talks about Charlie constantly.” You smile bitterly and scratch at your phone case. “I don’t blame him for that, but-” you shrug- “it hurts knowing that he still clings to her.” When Adam stays silent, you continue. “He can be kind- real attentive and sweet. But sometimes, when he’s had a uh-” you struggle to find a word- “a bad day, he gets real low. And I hate to admit it, but he gets clingy and it’s nice to know that I can still serve him in some way.”  Your fingers pinch at the bridge of your nose, and you let your hand cover your mouth. “But then, there are moments, where it feels like he’s actually looking at me- where he’s just everything,” you say wistfully, your hand stretching out in front of you, clasping around the night air. You glance at Adam, who watches your hand as you pull it back to yourself. “Sorry, I uh, I didn’t mean to ramble.”

“So why’d you leave then?”

Perhaps you’d get a biased opinion- you’re aware of how Adam feels over Lucifer, and practically every other inhabitant of Hell. He thinks of himself above any other, his own pride being the very thing that made him unaware of Niffty running towards him. You chew on your lip, your hand scratching over your neck. You need to speak to someone. No one else at the hotel will ever give you a straight answer- or at least the answer that you want to hear.

With a sigh, you kick your legs out in front of you. “I like Lucifer.” You can feel his eyes on you. “But, sometimes,” you drag the word, and your body feels hot, “it’s like he’s not present in the relationship. He gives a lot, but he hardly ever asks for anything.”

There’s a pause. “What could you even give him?” he asks in sincerity. 

There’s a pang in your chest, wrapping tightly, threatening to crush your bones, and leaving you a battered and broken mess on Adam’s balcony. You can’t give him anything that he doesn’t want. He has his daughter, he had his wife, he has his title for better or for worse. All you can offer is a moment of content, and even then it seems that you can no longer do that.

You shrug your shoulders at an attempt of a weak answer. “I know that he’s still not over his wife. Or ex-wife. I'm not too sure of the title and I hate to ask. He gets all mopey and deflective.” You kick at the ground, and insecurity hugs you tightly, and drips into your words. “He stares at portraits of her, and well, it’s hard to compete with the literal Queen of Hell, when I’m just-” your jaw stiffens, and you look at the ground through blurring eyes- “me.” You stand in her shadow without even having met her. “Even when I dress up, I feel like a child playing pretend. I don’t- I’m not like her.” You’ve stared at her portraits that still hang in the palace, and they consume you. Her smile, her delicate hands, and the elegance that is so evident in portraits.  It feels childish to compare yourself to someone so regal and poised. 

“Yeah,” he sighs. “My ex was pretty hot.” Your eyes widen, and you turn to him. “They both were.” He lets out a sigh, and keeps his eyes fixed in front of him.

“Adam,” you squeak out. “I’m sorry.” You shake your head, blood rushing to your face, making your body uncomfortably warm. “I hadn’t meant- I didn’t mean to talk about her with you. I’m so sorry.”

“The fuck are you apologizing for?” He asks, eyes narrowed and mouth twisting to an ugly sneer.

You cross your arms over your chest, bringing them to an ‘X’ where your hands curve over your biceps. “It’s just that I’m talking about Lucifer and your ex-wife.” You frown when he gives you an ugly look. “I just- I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

He gives a shrug of his shoulders, his gaze still focused elsewhere. “Lucifer already talked shit about how he banged both of them. It's whatever.”

Your brows furrow, and you watch as Adam pats his pockets, fisting a hand into one of his pants pockets. He fishes out a pack of cigarettes, grabbing on and sticking the tan end of it into his mouth. He motions the carton at you, and you pull your mouth into a thin line. 

“If you're gonna bitch about smoking, you're one lame sinner.”

“Eve? He slept with Eve, too?”

“Oh shit.” The cigarette hangs between his teeth, until pulls it back into his mouth. “You didn't know.” He almost sounds apologetic. He grabs at a lighter and it takes a few clicks to light the white of the stick.

“He doesn't really talk about his sex life before me.” You slump further into yourself, your nails scratching over your skin. “It's in the past. I know I shouldn't be hurt over what he's chosen to share with me, but-” you toss your head back, and in the red sky, the stars are dim. “I don’t know. It just feels like another kick on a shitty night, ya know?”

“I’m shitty?” He almost sounds offended. 

“No, no” you shake your head. “If anything, you’re like the one good thing out of this night.”

“Yeah, well, you ain’t so bad yourself.” You turn to him, your head cocked to the side. “You got a nice body. If you weren’t stuck here, I would’ve bagged you already.” You stretch your lips thin, and Adam shrugs, blowing out a puff of smoke.  “You’re easy on the eyes.”

“Thanks Adam,” you say hesitantly. He holds out the cigarette towards you and you wave your hand. “I’m good.”

“So what now? You gonna go back to him?”

“I don’t even think he knows that I’m gone,” you say honestly. The confession makes you feel lighter than you thought it would. “It’s comfortable with him. It’s easy- I don’t have to worry about things, but, I also don’t have to worry about anything. And sometimes, I want to worry. I want him and I to argue about dumb shit, and I want to worry if he’s coming to bed or not, and not being resigned to the fact that I know he won’t.”

The silence is broken by the scraping of the chair, and you watch as he rises, stretching his arms above him, the cigarette pinched between his fingers. “Eve tolerated me,” he says quietly, letting out a breath of smoke. You look at him, biting at the inside of your cheeks. “She loved me for a while. She was devoted to me. But I uh- I’m pretty sure that was because she was made from me.” A hand cups over his side. “Blind loyalty or whatever. But when she bit that apple, whatever she felt for me was gone.” He speaks quietly, and slowly, as if the words and the thoughts of it were slowly piecing themselves together, a puzzle that he had long put away in order for it to never make sense. “She didn’t care what I did as long as I left her and the-'' someone below lets out a scream, and Adam turns to you, his face flashing a moment of vulnerability before he looks away and puts out the cigarette under his boot. “Well, Eve was Eve.” His brows soften, and he looks tired. “I didn’t tolerate her.”

“Meaning?” You ask quietly.

He shrugs. “I did love her. She had a part of me after all.” He looks over at you, and his hand tightens over his side, pulling at the fabric. “But that’s not important anymore.” He turns away, and walks back inside. You scurry after him, making sure to lock the balcony door behind you.

You stand awkwardly in the room, unsure of what to do next. Truth be told, you had planned to spend the night in some dingy motel if Adam hadn’t sat beside you. But now you’re here, in his dingy apartment, truths and insecurities laid out for the two of you to bear witness. A part of you wants to bid him goodnight, and maybe when you’d see him out in the streets, you’d give him a  cordial nod, and remember how he listened and talked about his ex-wife, and he’d remember you in positive light, despite you only being a mess of insecurities wrapped in sin. 

But now, you don’t want to leave. At least a part of you wants to continue this conversation, to keep the comfort wrapped tight around you. You tap your foot against the ground and Adam looks at you, his eyes staring at yours, unwavering from yours. You hadn’t realized just how powerful he stood beforehand. 

“You can stay if you want,” he says slowly, unsure of the words that he’s saying. “Take the couch or whatever,” he attempts to sound indifferent, but you can hear the sincerity in the words, uncomfortable, but sincere. “I got a spare blanket you can use.” His teeth are sharp, and they peek out to tease at his bottom lip.

“Really?” You ask, eyes wide and you take a step forward, and he looks away. “I can?”

His mouth thins into a grimace, and he gives a forced shrug. “Do whatever you want.”

You look at the couch. It wasn’t uncomfortable to sit on, but you’re sure you’ll wake up with a sore back. However, you don’t want to go back to Lucifer, and you don’t want to go to some dingy motel where you’re sure you’ll drink until you’re sick. Looking back at Adam, you nod, a smiling teasing at the corners of your lips, and he finally looks away from you.

“Yes!” You clear your throat. “Yes,” you say in a softer tone. “I’d like that. Thank you, Adam.”

“Whatever.” He walks into his bedroom, and you sit on the couch. He returns with a blanket, and he stands at the end of the couch, looking at you. “I’m not making you breakfast or anything. You gotta figure that shit out on your own.” You nod. The only real worry that you have is that your phone’s battery is at an uncomfortable percentage that you aren’t sure is going to last you.

“I hope Hell is nice for you.” He raises his brows at you. “It’s shitty and the smell of decay is always kinda there, but sometimes, it’s nice down here.”

“Hell is supposed to suck.”

“And it does,” you say with a shrug. “But not all the time, Ads.”

“Don’t call me that.” He tosses a blanket at you- it’s thin and threads have begun to unravel at the seams, but it’s soft. “I’m turning off the lights.”

“Goodnight,” you call out, holding the blanket close to you. You can only smile when the response is a closed door.  

[luvrxbunny]

I need something borderline illegal. Like dark and twisted. Like I want to question my moral compass but read on.

Am I asking for dad’s best friend!Joel? pshhhhhh. Am I asking for bratty! reader?? Pshhhhhh. Am I asking for anything???

Am I asking for smutty smut?! Yes I am.

Ofc if you are uncomfortable with any of these don’t hesitate to ignore this and also no pressure ily ❤️

a/n: reader isn't bratty, im sorry! i forgot :((

sleep

pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!virgin!reader

summary: Joel can’t stay away from you any longer.  

warnings: 18+ MDNI, alcohol, voyeurism/somnophilia + dub-con, dry humping, cum in pants

wc: 4.0k

a/n: i hope this is dark enough!! the only reason the ask is a ss instead of the actual thing is cus i formatted the whole story then realized i forgot to put it in the reply to the ask (loosely proofread)

It’s 2 am and Joel can’t stop thinking about you. How you’re sleeping soundly in his room, in his bed, in his shirt as pajamas because you had “forgotten to pack some”, something you both knew was a lie. He knows you’re toying with him, you started a bit before, but since you’ve turned 18? It's just been on rapid fire. 

He pulls out his phone and scrolls through your text thread, scoffing at every other conversation. It was so apparent, in every text, how badly you want him. 

Mon, Aug 16 at 4:41 AM

bbg: big man! text me when u wake up i have a joke

You: Why are you awake at this time?

bbg: wtf why are YOU awake 🤨 

You: I have trouble sleeping, you know that.

bbg: aww poor joey 😢

You: Are you going to answer my question, darling?

bbg: im doing skincare and stuff

You: You have to wake up this early for that stuff?

bbg: can’t put a price on feeling bonita 

You: Why are you speaking Spanish now?

bbg: nevermind lmao

bbg: so have u tried meditation

You: What?

bbg: for your sleeping troubles

You: I’m not that kind of guy.

bbg: what about getting off

You: Excuse me? 

bbg: like masturbation n stuff

You: I know what you’re saying.

You: I don’t understand why you’re talking about this with me.

bbg: we haven’t even talked about it 😭 

bbg: obviously we can end the convo if ur uncomfy but its a very good way to fall asleep

He remembers needing a pause after he read that text for the first time. It had only been four months since your birthday and you were already drastically different. Joel never expected it, he always thought your feelings had already reached their limit but it turns out you were holding back because you weren’t of age. Now that you are… He doesn’t know what he’s going to do. His morals may not be strong enough for the thought of  “ his best friend's daughter” to hold him back. He’s already rationalized himself out of the “daughter's best friend” thought. You’re not even going to school together anymore. Sarah lives on campus so you guys never see each other and you barely ever text. 

You: I have not.

bbg: what? literally how? 

bbg: you should

bbg: it totally works

You: That’s good to know. 

You: Get back to your skincare, honey. I’ll message you later. 

Mon, Aug 16 at 5:03 AM

bbg: joel? 

Mon, Aug 16 at 5:37 AM

bbg: are you masturbating? 

You: Sweetheart. You can’t ask me things like that. It’s not right.

bbg: u didnt answer! i got curious

You: Still.

bbg: i dont see the problem we’re both adults 🫢

You: Barely.

bbg: dont be mean

You: Do you need something

You: I said I’d text you later

bbg: wow no punctuation?

You: Busy

bbg: getting off? 

He remembers staring at your text, unbelieving that you’d send him something like that, so forward, so dirty. He remembers the thought that you were joking. Obviously, you don’t expect him to say yes, that’s why you asked in the first place. Maybe his perverted mind was interpreting your behavior as flirting but you’re just being yourself around him. All these thoughts were swirling in his head but the feeling of his hand flying over his cock, pretending it’s yours, that you're in his ear whispering to him... That thought was stronger, that feeling was stronger. 

You: Yes.

bbg: good. have fun, joey

He gets up for his fourth beer, hoping to drown the impure thoughts, starring you, that plague his mind. It’d be so easy to have you, you’ve been throwing yourself at him since you turned 17. He’s been ignoring it, adamantly. It wasn’t right, despite the age difference, the fact that you’re his daughter’s best friend and his best friend’s daughter. On top of that, you only just turned 18. 

You’ve been staying at Joel’s for a month. He takes the guest room because you say that his bed is better. You haven’t gone home because your dad is still working on your birthday present/room renovations and he doesn't want you to see it until it’s done. He offered up Joel’s house to keep you, knowing his best friend wouldn't mind, unknowing that his best friend was corrupt for his daughter. 

Joel was trying to ignore the way his body was heating up, still scrolling through the texts. He remembers that conversation perfectly. He remembers the adrenaline that was coursing through him as he confessed. He remembers how hard he came at your response. When thinking about this conversation he also remembers the guilt, it’s the most vivid emotion he remembers, usually. But the alcohol seems to be drowning that part out, and Joel scrolls on. 

He finds a patch of texts that he actively avoids, usually. It’s picture after picture of you in the most adorable outfits in the most suggestive positions. There are plenty of you lying on your back, some with your head turned to show off your perfectly curved, unmarked, un-bitten, neck. There are a few where you’re sitting down with the camera angled up, giving Joel too many situations his head can come up with. Then there’s the worst one, his favorite- he doesn’t even know how you took this one. You’re sitting on your knees, hands rested on your thighs and you’re looking up at the camera with a shy smile. 

There are two things about this photo that really fuck him up. 

First, your smile, the way it lets him know that you’re trying to fuck him up, you know what you’re doing with this pose, this positioning, you’re even embarrassed by it, a little nervous about it but you still felt the need to take the photo, for him. 

Second, the height, and the way the camera is positioned shows him that these photos were specifically crafted for him because the height the camera is at is exactly how he’d see you if you were on your knees like that for him. 

You made sure that he noticed because the very next day, you needed him to tie a bow in your hair and instead of waiting for him to get off the couch you placed yourself on the ground, between his legs, in this pose. He had to hide his erection until you left and then fight the urge to get himself off in your room for the rest of the night. 

He glances at his room door, you’re sleeping so soundly in there.

She wouldn’t even notice if someone went in there right now. She definitely wouldn’t notice me… Hell, as if she’d mind either way… I mean- Would she?

The alcohol clouds his thoughts, gives him bad ideas, and then convinces him that they’re good- this one being one of them. He grabs his almost-finished beer and heads to the fridge to grab a fifth one, knowing he’ll be in there for a while. 

He does this sometimes, you look so peaceful when you sleep… it’s the only time he can admire you without putting all his relationships at risk. He reaches the door and turns the knob slowly to avoid creaking. He enters the room, his socks padding his footsteps, and the darkness gives him no shadow. He moves one of your tops off of his desk chair and turns it to face your sleeping figure while placing his beers down. You’re already bringing a smile to his face. You’ve got your face shoved into one of his pillows, your arm tucked under it, and your leg is pulled up to your waist, sticking out from under his tan comforter. You’re wearing one of his hoodies for sleepwear—

Fuck.

and it doesn’t look like you have anything on your bottom half. It’s a little cold in his room so little goosebumps have bloomed over your exposed skin. He takes a swig of beer, finishing his fourth as he examines you. Your face twitches for a moment, your eyebrows furrow, and your nose twitches like a rabbit before calming back down. He opens the other beer and fills his mouth with it, hoping that the alcohol stops the fluttering in his stomach while he drinks it down. 

You shiver a bit but your leg doesn’t move, the goosebumps just become more prominent. His hand is reaching out for you before he can think, rubbing your calf gently to soothe and warm you up a bit. You let out a relieved sigh at his contact and your leg presses further into his warmth. He has to take a deep breath as his mind runs wild, convincing him that this is some sort of sign, that even in you’re sleep you’re trying to be closer to him, that he should just give in. 

No, she’s your best friend's daughter. Sure she’s her own person now, legally an adult, an’ can make decisions for herself… an’ yeah she’s not owned or controlled by anyone and just cause I’m friends with her father ain’t a fair reason to completely rule her out from being a potential partner… Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad… maybe it’s actually more fucked up for me to avoid her just cause of who birthed her. That’s totally not fair to her! I mean I know I wouldn't want anyone judging me based on who my parents are y’know? Maybe I should put myself in her shoes. 

His breathing speeds up as he breaks through his last piece of resistance. Now he’s just trying to figure out how soon he can have you. 

I’ll have to court her first, flirt with her a bit before asking her out to dinner, then maybe she’ll accept my offer to be my girlfriend by the third date… From there maybe she’ll have sex with me for the three-month anniversary… she might be a bit more timid than that but we’re looking at a four- five-month plan… That can work- I can definitely work with that.

You whine and stretch your body, your legs straighten and your arms spread out, you turn and rest one arm on top of your head before you lift your leg, bending it above your waist but with the other one this time. The new position leaves the blanket covering nothing but one of your inner thighs and to add insult to injury your raised arms lift his hoodie, revealing a beautiful sliver of your stomach. 

Or I could have her now.

The thought is too powerful to stop, his opportunity is too perfect, Ellie is out with whatever girl she’s currently entertaining, and Sarah doesn’t live here anymore. Your father would never be awake at this time and Joel is hard, wanting, and so so ready for you. He’s crawling into bed beside you after downing half his beer for the nerves. 

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. 

He settles next to you and your leg presses into him again, searching for him and his warmth. You slowly turn to him as he stares at you, watching how sluggish your movements are in your sleep. You snuggle into the pillow in front of him and take a long inhale of its scent, a little smile resting on your lips while you breathe out. Your face is inches from his, and his hand is down his pants in an instant. 

The relief is heavenly, he’s been throbbing for you since he read those texts. He can’t help the way he reacts to you. He can smell your toothpaste on your breath as you gently snore in front of him. He wraps his warm hand around his cock and his soft lips part into an ‘O’. His eyes roll back for a second but he immediately focuses them back on you. He’s tugging at himself violently, not even thinking about savoring this moment, just needing to cum for you. He’s trying to hold in his sounds but you look so pretty, just seeing your face while he’s touching himself makes everything better, somehow you’ve turned his sensitivity as high as it can go.

Little whines and whimpers slip into your dream state. You’re confused by the sound, the rustling that coming from—? In front of you? Your brows furrow as you try to open your eyes. “Fuck” You hear someone say. It sounds like… 

You open your eyes just in time to see Joel yank his hand out of his sweatpants and scramble as far as he can get from you before falling off the bed. You’re still confused as you take his form in. His shirt has ridden up a bit, exposing the salt and pepper hairs on his tummy. His hair is sticking all over the place, he stinks of beer, and his eyes are wide, focused on you. “Joey?”

Despite the horrid situation he’s in, his cock is still leaking for you, pulsing at the nickname. He can’t answer, he has to bite back a moan as he feels himself leak into the fabric of his pants. “Joel? What—” Your eyes flutter, almost falling shut but you shake yourself out of it and— Fuck.

You move closer to him. 

You’re too snuggly when you’re sleeping, too cute, and too dumb. You’re not even questioning why your father’s best friend was in bed with you while you were sleeping. You don't want to risk him leaving and you don’t mind in the first place, you actually thought you were dreaming at first. Your heart almost stopped when your fingers actually latched onto his shirt after reaching out for him. He’s stiff as a board, deterring your touch so you pull your hands into your chest and bury your face in his. 

Joel is almost shaking in exertion as you press your soft little body against his. It’s just your upper half, leaning into him and finding wam solace in his chest. He can handle this, he thinks. He can calm down, and be with you like this. He’s supposed to court you first anyway, he can’t believe himself. Was he really going to just get off with you in the same bed? What kind of pervert would even try something like that?

You hike your leg up over his waist, half asleep, not realizing your motions. 

All his perverted feelings return with a vengeance. 

You wiggle around a bit, trying to get comfortable but his cock twitches, flicking into your soft lips for a moment. At first, you really didn’t know what it was, all you knew was that the sensation felt good. So of course you chased it. Your hips grind into his cock arrhythmically, trying to find that same angle again, not realizing that you’re basically fucking him through your clothes. His hands have to come to your hips, gripping painfully for your eyes to snap open and your hips to freeze. 

Your eyes widen further when you finally process the situation, and even in all your teasing and sensuality, at the end of the day, you’re still just a virgin. You never had any real intention of acting on your desires, especially if Joel wasn’t the one initiating. 

Oh fuck. What did I do? What do I do? He’s just staring at me… Maybe he didn’t notice, I didn’t! But it felt so good. Will he let me? Maybe if I—

Your hips tilt into his before you can process whether this is actually a good idea or not. His hand tense over yours, like another shock of clarity through your bones. You shut your eyes tight, not wanting to see the disgust or uncomfortable pity in his face. “I’m so sorry, Joel. I didn’t… I-”

You try not to let tears well in your eyes as you whimper and pull back from him. But he doesn’t let you. His arms tense, his muscles flexing as he keeps your body pressed against his. You open your eyes, a bit shocked at his refusal to let you go but still too scared to meet his eyes. Your gaze is on his stomach, the way his gray shirt rode up, exposing the way his belly keeps tensing with every breath. “I-” He manages to get out before letting out a shuddering sigh. You finally look at him. 

His eyebrows are pulled taut in between his eyes, his gaze is something you’ve never seen before, and he almost looks angry. It’s desperate, but sorrowful, with the added haze from his intoxication. He keeps biting at his bottom lip, worrying it red as he tries to form a sentence for you. His hands tense over your hips again but this time they tilt you into him again. His face is a hard grimace as he slowly presses you into his raging bulge. You watch him fight with his expression, it keeps breaking into something weak before he goes back to his angry pout. You can’t help the way you press into him, you want to feel it again, that fire in the pit of your stomach that spreads to your soaking pussy the more he pulls you in. You watch his face contort into something heavenly. His brows pull up, almost shocked at how good you feel as his eyes roll back and shut. His entire body shakes as he melts into the pillow. He’s breathing deep and slowly, trying to regulate the pleasure he feels. 

Now he’s focused on savoring the moment. He wants this to last as long as it possibly can. You’re making him feel incredible,  he’s so sensitive, it’s like he’s been edging himself for you. You whimper, high-pitched and muffled but it’s so beautiful that he forces his eyes open. You have one hand gripping the bedsheet like it’s your lifeline and you have the other bitten between your teeth to hold your sounds in. Your hips are grinding into him at an uneven, unsteady, desperate pace and he’s mesmerized by the sight.

He knew you wanted him. He didn’t know you needed him. You’re fucking yourself against his cock like you’ve been waiting for it your whole life. Your hand comes up to grip his shoulder instead of the bedsheet. He grunts and tilts his hips further into yours, a sadistic smirk coming to his face at the sound of exclamation that shoots from your mouth once you’re able to grind your clit against his shaft. Your thrusts start to stutter at that, your body constantly wanting to fold in on itself from the assault of pleasure but you try and will yourself to keep going. 

Unfortunately, your pace is ruined by your pleasure. Your sensitive body can’t handle how good his clothed cock is making you feel. You lose your pace and your pleasure becomes rocky and teasing. He watches as your face changes from pleasured to pouty. Little whimpers and whines of frustration slip from your lips, growing in volume and frequency the longer you’re unable to grind against him properly. Joel’s watching you through hooded eyes, fingers digging into your hips painfully at this point and all he wants is to not cum yet. He wants to make you cum first, he needs it, he needs to see it, to hear it. 

He’s been telling himself it’s fine because you’re grinding against him, not the other way around. You’re choosing this, there’s no way he’s manipulating you, or swaying your decision if he stays completely indifferent. But you’re begging him now. You’re gripping desperately at his shirt, removing your hand from your mouth to grip him harder and pulling yourself closer, wrapping your arms around and moaning right against his chest. He shouldn’t. He can’t. But he does.

His eyes shut tight as his hands leave your hips. You almost climb on top of him in protest, whining a loud “N- Please.” into his chest as your leg hikes higher onto his waist. One of his hands cradles your head, pulling you further into his chest, muffling the moans you’re already letting out at his touch. His other hand goes to the small of your back, pressing you against him perfectly and guiding your rhythm as your hips start up again. He dares to speak. “S’this okay, baby?”

Your reaction to his voice is visceral. Your hands shoot up to his shoulder and hair, pulling yourself up a bit to bury in his neck, getting a new angle from his cock, now fucking him against your leaking hole. “So good, Joey. Thank- Thank you s’much. Thank you, thank you.” Your gratitude is like a searing knife through him. His entire body is set alight as he tries to regulate his breathing. He can feel goosebumps break out on his skin, his pleasure filling every molecule in his body, ready to overflow for you. Fuck. He’s definitely going to cum before you. 

“Mm. Good, good girl. Just- Keep going, sweetness, take what— Shit. Take what you need, darlin’.” His breathing quickens and shudders as your hips increase their pace against him. He’s leaking continuously now, he’s getting in his head, trying to stop himself from cumming but every thought that pops into his mind just brings him closer to the edge. He can’t focus on anything but you. You’re moaning for him, grinding against him, this desperate for him. 

The hand on your lower back migrates to the back of your neck, gripping you there, holding you in place as his hips begin to thrust into yours. “M’gonna cum, darlin’. Fuck, I wanted t- wanted to last for y- Mmm oh fuck.” His entire body starts to tremble as your nails dig into him so painfully he’s sure they drew blood. Your eyes are comically wide as your body tenses in his hold before breaking down into a shudder that overtakes your entire being. You’re cumming. 

He explodes at the realization. In all his desperation, intoxication, and pure need… He was still able to make you cum first. He buries his face in your hair, huffing the scent as he floods his sweatpants. His eyes shut as tightly as they can as his orgasm tears through him. He’s been waiting so long for you to make him cum and now that it’s happening, it feels even better than he planned for. His low grunts turn into shocked moans when his orgasm doesn’t stop after shooting two ropes of cum against his sweats. You’re already coming down as he hits what feels like his second peak. You can feel his hands shaking over where they’re gripping you and you get an impulse that you act on without a second thought. 

Your hand slides down from his shoulder quickly, over the sliver of stomach he’s showing off, and right down his pants. You don’t know what you’re doing so you just grip him, wrapping your hand around his shaft but it seems to do the trick. He lets out a sound that resembles someone getting kicked in the gut. His face is pulled from your hair as his head is thrown back. He arches into you a bit before his hips start thrusting into your fist, desperately prolonging his already overwhelming orgasm. It’s embarrassing; how long he was cumming for, the way his body was violently quivering for you, the ludicrously large dark spot spreading over his pants, showcasing how much he came for you. 

He moans gently when he comes to. You’re stroking over his chest with a soft, sleepy, nervous smile. He pulls you in for a kiss before he can think about it. You guys haven’t discussed anything. Neither of you knows what this means for your relationship but you know that neither of you has felt more comfortable than when you’re in the arms of the other. So why question it now? 

You fall into a deep sleep listening to Joel’s heavy snores, getting rocked to bed by the way his chest expands. It’s the best sleep of your life. 

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist!

psst psst. hey you!! i have a part 2 if u want 😏

[katkbc]

kat is currently thinking of…

GOING TO A CHRISTMAS PARTY WITH TOXIC!EREN…

————————————

MINORS DNI.

note:tbh i had a lil fun writing this! there will be a part 2 w smut but i kinda wanted to make a little story cuz why not? also this is WAY longer than i intended it to be.. sorry….

cw: fem! reader, strong language, violence, reader is a bit of an airhead + sensitive, use of alcohol, angst, eren is toxic , all characters aged up to 20+, im a sucker for toxic eren🫦 also he’s a bit possessive

————————————

summary : you and eren went out to a christmas party, what’s the worst that could happen?

“how you holding up?” your boyfriend asks. as of right now you’ve had a little too much to drink at connie’s christmas party, not to an extent though. to be honest, eren didn’t expect this much people to show up. music is blasting in the back, people are chatting and dancing, some are drunk, others are playing beer pong, this party was for sure a blast right now. you and eren decided to take shots earlier with connie, jean, mikasa, and armin, but clearly you went overboard a bit. you’re currently on the couch next to eren, his hand on your thigh while your leaned over against his shoulder.

“i’m fine ‘ren.. trust me.” you reply, your words slurring together slightly. you take another sip of your beer, but suddenly it disappears. “hey, no more.” eren scolds. eren had decided to invite you to the party because you needed to have a little fun in your life. it’s not like you never went out, you just preferred to stay at home. but when you get drunk, it’s a whole new personality you’ve unlocked.

you came to this party in a strapless bodycon dress,in a nice velvet color. it hugs your hips very nicely and makes your breasts slightly pop out, you wore this with a simple and nice white button up cover up, which you clearly didn’t button up. eren didn’t really approve of what you wore, but man, you looked like a goddess. he couldn’t say no to those beautiful doe eyes you got.

“sorry…” you apologize. sometimes eren would get a little rude with you, but he would quickly realize once you start sulking. “it’s ok, princess. just please don’t over drink.”he smiles at you, and starts circling his thumb on your thigh. you feel hear building up in your core, but it’s just you having to pee really bad. you grab eren’s hand off your thigh. “i need to pee really quick eren, i’ll be back.” you give him an innocent smile. as you get up, he lightly pulls you back. “let me walk with you, it’s crowded.” he insists. “i’m fineee, i’m not a baby eren.” you reply. you grab his face and give him a peck on his cheek. “it’s just really quick..” “alright, don’t go running off though.” he replies.

after washing your hands you walk out the bathroom. you’re walking down the hall back to the main room, slightly stumbling each step. “hey, are you.. good?” a voice calls out to you. the voice belongs to a very nice looking guy. dirty blonde hair which is slicked back, and nice hazel eyes. “yes.. i am. i think.” you think about what you just said. the alcohol in your system is starting to kick in even more. “what’s your name, pretty girl?” he offers a handshake. “y/n, and what’s your name?” you shake his hand, and give him a friendly smile. your cheeks are slightly tinted red. the guy admires you, and can’t help but think ‘damn, she’s gorgeous’.

“porco galliard, you have a pretty name by the way.” he compliments. “thank you!” you let go of his hand. “so… are you here by yourself?” he asks. when he asks, your mind is slowly starting to go foggy, forgetting certain things, and a person. “i’m just trying to find my way out of here.” you ignore the question. “can you help me please…” you plead, looking at him with puppy eyes. “how could i say no to a pretty face like you, where to?” he pulls you close to his side, aware that you aren’t in a great state of mind right now. he doesn’t realize what he has coming.

“yo, eren you good?” connie asks. it’s been about 20 minutes since you left to use the bathroom. your phone is dead, and the house is very crowded, eren is starting to get worried. he would probably have a heart attack if he knew you were with another guy currently. “i’ve called her like what… 15 fucking times and she won’t answer!” he lashes out. “woah calm down..” armin sits himself on the couch next to eren. “how about let’s look for her, she’s probably just lost, you know how she is.” he tries to lighten the mood.

eren wasn’t exactly the best boyfriend. he usually gets angry quickly, and was possessive when it came to you. arguments would lead to you crying and him reassuring you, even though half the time he would start the arguments. but you still loved him no matter what, he’s your baby. and he loved you just as much, probably even more. he’s just ‘looking out for you’.

“yeah, we didn’t expect this much people to come, maybe we should look for her.” jean chimes in. “alright, let’s get going.” armin suggests. eren and him get off up the couch, meanwhile jean has already started looking.

meanwhile…

the sound of crickets chirp outside. in the duration of eren freaking out, porco took you outside for some fresh air, away from the overwhelming party. you needed it, since you were absolutely out of it. the night sky is beautiful, the moon shining which provided some light. you two were sitting on some steps in the backyard. “so… what are some things you like?” porco makes conversation. “i really like cats.” you say. “oh really? what do you like about them?” he asks. “they’re just s’ooo cute! me and my boyfriend adopted one not that long ago and he’s the cutest thing alive!” you ramble. “boyfriend?” he asks. “yeah, my boyfriend is the best. sometimes he can be a little mean though, and it makes me sad.” you say, sadness reminiscing in your tone. porco puts his nicely sized hand on your back and starts rubbing in circles.

“why would he be mean to you? you’re a really sweet girl.” he reassures you. “i don’t really know. whenever we argue sometimes it’s bad. sometimes he gets really mad and starts yelling at me, and i don’t like it. i usually cry because sometimes he’s just so mean. but it’s okay, he apologizes and then makes me feel loved!” you ramble again, words slurring together. porco looks at you. in the hour you guys have been talking he’s learned a good amount about you, but he feels like you deserve more than this so called ‘boyfriend’ you have. but again, he doesn’t really know too much details, and keeps his thoughts to himself. “well… he should honestly respect you as much as-”

“y/n!” the familiar voice calls from behind you. you look back and see the face of your boyfriend, with a look that indicates he is VERY pissed off. “what the fuck!” he yells. “don’t cause a scene eren!” armin scolds at him. “e’ren…” you hiccup. he goes over to where you and porco are sitting with armin following, with a worried look. “who the hell are you?” he looks at porco, with a disgusted look. “calm the fuck down dude, i had to take care of her since someone couldn’t..” he gives a remark. this guy was really testing erens patience. “who are you to tell me i can’t take care of my girlfriend? i was looking for her this whole time just for her to be with another guy.” he snaps back. footsteps are heard, them belonging to jean, connie, and mikasa. your vision is currently blurry, with tears flowing in your eyes. “what is going on out here?” mikasa questions. “oh shit..” connie realizes.

porco stands up and faces eren. “alright i get your her boyfriend and shit, but if you’re thinking we did something, we didn’t. she’s drunk as fuck so i offered to help her since this party is huge. be grateful i made sure she was safe, no need to go off on me.” he explains. there’s a pause of silence, until eren breaks it. “listen, i could honestly care less. i don’t want you near my girl.” he threatens. “eren… please stop.” you plead, looking up at the scene. “you don’t have any room to talk, what the fuck were you and this guy doing anyways?!” he snaps.

you hold back your tears. “we weren’t doing anything eren, don’t make this a big deal.. please.” you were stumbling over your words. this was all too overwhelming, since you came just to have a good time. you should’ve known how eren would’ve gotten.

“shut the fuck up y/n!” he looks at you with flames bursting in his eyes. “i don’t wanna hear your bullshit excuses.” everyone nearby looks at the current scene that’s happening, and you can’t stand it anymore. your mind is fuzzy, and the tears that were at bay on your eyes start slowly falling down your cheeks. you hated when eren would yell at you. now that he’s yelling at you in front of other people, you felt helpless. you get up and leave the scene, leaving everyone behind.

“eren what is wrong with you?” mikasa breaks the sudden silence. she then leaves the scene to go find you. “learn some respect, that’s your girlfriend.” porco remarks. eren looks at porco with hatred, not caring that he was causing an unnecessary scene. that’s just who he was. a loud and sudden sound fills the awkward silence.

eren gave porco a good punch to the face. “don’t tell me what i should learn.” at this point, eren was in rage, he could care less about anything right now. he wanted to fuck up this random ass guy who was telling him shit that related to his girlfriend. erens in the wrong but he doesn’t see it. porco returns a punch back, and this sets off a fight.

people start surrounding the area, observing what is happening. eren delivers a punch on porcos side, which makes him fall. eren steps up and is about to kick porcos face until porco drags him down suddenly, and starts punching him repeatedly. the scene is starting to get very violent, with blood drops filling the wooden patio. armin goes up and pulls back eren, but he’s still delivering blows.

“what the hell is happening?!?” a man who looks like porco arrives at the scene. another man follows behind him, tall, blonde and seems way older than the rest of the party guests. “separate them marcel what are you doing!” the guy shouts. “reiner why don’t you do something too?” jean shouts from the other side of the scene. connie goes up and helps armin pull eren off, and marcel and reiner pull porco away from eren.”

“parties over! everyone get the hell out!” connie yells. the news soon spreads around, and people start leaving before anything else happens. porco apologizes for being involved in the fight, and leaves with marcel and reiner. eren and everyone else goes inside.

“stay still.” armin commands. the party now ended, connie and jean were currently cleaning up. armin is helping clean up eren’s wounds. eren winces at the alcohol put on his wound.

“so, are you proud of being a horrible boyfriend and telling off your girlfriend in front of a crowd for no reason?” armin reminds eren. eren reflects on his actions and realizes he messed up big time. his anger always gets the best of him. “no…” he admits. “you need to go apologize to her. just to let you know she got home safe with mikasa.” the blonde tells eren.“how is she doing?” he asks, head down. “mikasa told me she wouldn’t stop crying.” eren’s emerald orbs look up.

he knew you were sensitive. he hated seeing you cry. he always tries to control his anger around you no matter what, but sometimes the littlest things will set him completely off. the guilt finally falls on him. you never argued back, no matter how much he yelled, because all you wanted was peace, and love from eren. knowing he said hurtful things to his girl is finally dwelling on him.

“i’m sorry for all the mess i caused.” eren apologizes, directing it towards everyone currently in the house. connie steps up, “listen, im not saying i forgive you, but you really have to work on yourself. you should be apologizing to y/n instead of us. what you did was really fucked up eren.” he replies. “we’re all here for you eren, just know that.” jean adds in.

as the moonlight shines, the night continues. eren, driving himself home realizes if he doesn’t work on himself, there’s a potential chance of losing you. he thinks to himself ‘i’m sorry beautiful, i would do anything for you.’ the texts he had sent you earlier sent, but you left him on read hours ago.

he cannot let jealousy and possessiveness take him over. he’s going to make it up to you, one way or another.

part 2 will be linked here !

thank you for reading :)

edit: comment if you would like to be added to a tag list for the part 2!! ^_^

[lovieku]

Good Luck, Babe! #1 ☆ jeon jungkook

what happens when you leave everything behind, only to be faced with it again years later? eunbi is convinced she was given another shot at keeping all she ever wanted, but it’s difficult when that all is her childhood best friend who doesn’t want to do anything with her anymore. how to earn his trust back?

☾ pairing: non idol!jk x fem!oc

☾ genre: childhood friends to strangers, friends to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

☾ word count: 10.4k +

☾ warnings: female oc named eunbi. explicit language. alcohol consumption. lots of flashbacks. mentions of menstrual cycle. misogyny (not jk). jk is one year older than eunbi. jk is a biker!! he doesn’t have tats and piercings though, that will come later. they’re currently in uni. jk is a film production student. eunbi is a literature student. awful abuse of italics. check masterlist for more!

☾ author’s note: hello!!! this is my first time doing this so please bear with me! english is not my first language so there might be some mistakes, if so please let me know. just in general, feedback is very appreciated :) as i mentioned, i never posted on tumblr before nor wrote an au in english so im kiiinda nervous about this… but i swear ill try to bring my idea to life in the best way possible and i wont make you regret reading this hehe… Also!!! each chapter is named after a song that reminds me of them <3 i hope you come to love eunbi and jeongguk as much as i do, maybe with time… thank you !

indexㅣnext

one ⋆ come back to me

Sitting across the table, he stares at her. The light of the twenty birthday candles reflecting in her eyes, the people surrounding her, his own friends. As she’s blowing out the candles, he wonders what she wished for. Does she ever wish to go back in time? Does she think of him, of what once was? Does she regret what happened? Jeongguk scoffs at his own thoughts, looking away from what’s in front of him. It makes his blood boil. How could she just forget?

“Did you even wish Eunbi a happy birthday?” It’s Dahye blocking his line of vision now. He looks up from where he’s sitting, pout on his face and eyebrows slightly furrowed, “Why would I? Would she ever do the same for me?” She would. Jeongguk knows he’s being petty, but he can’t help it.

His friend rolls her eyes, unspokenly conveying just how tired she is of this constant snubbing between Jeongguk and the birthday girl, “So you came to her party to do what? Sit here and burn holes into her skull? Fucking grow up Jeongguk, you’re being childish.” She forces him to get up, but as he does he’s not sure he can handle this whole situation for much longer.

Everyone is hugging her, but it all feels so fake. Her smiles and squeals directed to everyone else but him. He doesn’t even know why he’s still here, doesn’t wanna be part of this farce. He feels out of place with his own people. Why did she have to ruin this one thing he had created? Why did she have to be so likeable to everyone? He can keep lying to himself, arguing that there’s no actual reason, but he knows first hand that it doesn’t take much to become fond of her. She could be spotted in a million people. She’s effortlessly glowing, radiating the light of a thousand stars, and the light burns everything. It burns his eyes, his skin, his heart.

Jeongguk has to look down at his hands as he squeezes them into fists, trying to make sense of what’s happening. He’s letting anger take over, but he knows deep down what he truly feels is sadness. Helplessness, even. He looks up just to find her staring back at him, and is he reading hope in her eyes?

He needs to get out. Being in her presence isn’t healthy for him, especially on what’s supposed to be her day, her night. He can keep being resentful, but he knows he doesn’t want to ruin that for her. Walking away from the table, he reaches the backdoor of the pub and searches for a cigarette in his jacket. Stress is clouding his mind and he just needs to relax. Breathe.

In his pocket, he doesn’t only find the pack of cigarettes he’s now desperately trying to open, but also a reminder of how delusional he truly is. Jeongguk stupidly thought he could maybe muster the courage to go up to her and give her a little gift, just a sign of politeness, he thought to himself as he fished it out of a forgotten memory box. He knows ever since they saw each other again they’ve been acting petty. Purposefully ignoring each other as if nothing ever was. He thought he could at least put an end to this. Hand her a bracelet he still keeps from their childhood as a request for a truce.

Jeongguk shakes his head and scoffs. He feels crazy. Insane, even. Is he really the only one thinking so much about how weird this whole new dynamic between them is? He knows they haven’t seen each other in years, of course things have changed, but why is she acting as if he is at fault? As if he’s the one who should apologise? He fumbles with the cigarette and struggles to keep it still in his mouth. Just then, he realises he doesn’t have a lighter on him.

”Fucking hell,” he looks up, maybe searching for help, talking to something greater than him. “Why do you hate me, God?”

”Bad day?” Jeongguk startles. He knows that voice. Turning around, he guessed exactly who it belonged to. She takes out a lighter and puts it between them, waiting for him to take it. Such a small gesture seems to mean infinitely more.

”Uh, thanks.” Jeongguk is aware of how pathetic he sounds right now, voice small and low. “Um, happy birthday. I guess.” I guess? What the fuck?

Eunbi chuckles, amused by the way he’s acting. He swears that makes him even angrier, he feels like fucking screaming. “Thanks. We’re eating cake. Come back there when you’re done?” She stands there a few more seconds, just staring at him. She expects Jeongguk to say something, anything. Even give her a smile, a nod of his head. None of that happens.

With her hair styled in a half ponytail, perfectly tied at the back with a white bow, she nods to herself and walks away, leaving the lighter in Jeongguk’s hand. He’s left speechless. That’s their first proper interaction after years. That’s all they could say to each other. He feels the hole in his chest, that he had managed to almost fully close, reopen at such a rapid speed, and he feels the urge to get out of that place immediately. Like hell he’s going back there.

Cigarette long forgotten, Jeongguk throws it somewhere in his jacket’s big pockets along with the lighter, and tries to make himself unnoticed while he frantically searches for the exit. Why the fuck are there so many people out drinking on a Monday night?

He feels bad for leaving his friends without any warning but he’s afraid one more second here could cause permanent damage to his brain. There's no point in staying any longer whatsoever.

“What a fucking waste of time.” Muttering to himself, he pushes the door open and walks ahead, keeping his head low while fishing for his bike keys in his jeans.

“Jeongguk?” Of fucking course, he thinks as his eyes close for a second, searching for the little patience he had left. Eunbi’s voice fills the much quieter parking lot outside the pub, the sound echoing and making him stop in his tracks, helmet already in his hands as he turns around.

“You're leaving?” If he didn't know her (and he would argue he actually doesn't anymore) Jeongguk would think there's a cloud of sadness in her voice. He slightly shakes his head and looks behind his shoulders. Scratches his head. Anything to escape what is happening.

“Yeah, it's quite late. I have a 9 a.m. tomorrow. Don't wanna miss it.” He's lying. He doesn't have lectures on Tuesdays, and even if he did, he's no stranger to skipping classes. He doesn’t care if the girl knows all about his ways. Hell, being in the same uni friend group doesn’t actually allow to really avoid seeing each other every fucking day of the week.

“Right,” she nods, kicking the pebbles under her feet. He notices she chose to wear Converses even under the flowy white mini dress she has on, and they still look like she never cleans them. Then she hesitates, “Wait a second? I’ll bring you a piece of cake to take home. It's your favourite, double chocolate.”

Jeongguk doesn’t reply. Doesn’t even give her a nod of his head. The birthday girl looks like she’s waiting for it though, some sign of reassurance. She’s left with none of that again, and figures she should be as quick as possible to avoid Jeongguk leaving without knowing she truly appreciated him being here.

He scoffs at the sight he catches a glimpse of through the pub’s window, the girl frantically recovering a piece of the dessert she claims she knows it’s still his favourite — it is. At that, he almost thinks of waiting for her. Almost. He doesn't, his petty nature taking over. He hops on the bike, helmet on, revving the engine to finally get the fuck out of there. No waiting, no warning. After all, it's not like she'd ever warned him before disappearing.

Jeongguk feels absent for most of the ride back to his cramped rented flat. Dissociated. Mind full of thoughts (and maybe regret) but body so relaxed and at ease because of the gentle summer breeze brushing his skin. It’s nights like these that take him way back, places in his brain that he’s sick of visiting. Jeongguk actually doesn’t remember a lot, doesn’t keep on too many memories of his past. Instead, he thinks he’s probably cursed with having every moment with her carved in his head, from the first time he saw her to the last.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Mom, I'm going outside!” A ten years old Jeongguk rushed down the stairs, hands full and voice shaking with excitement. Once again, he gathered as many toys as he could and his trusted camera to go play outside the porch.

Laying on the sofa, his mom was concerned Jeongguk would fall with how eager he was in his movements, “Alright baby, stay off the road though!” The apprehension was short lived, the woman letting a sigh out of her mouth, knowing taming little Jeongguk was mission impossible.

Nonetheless, Mrs. Jeon had always believed her son to be very intelligent for his age, both academically and emotionally. He had already developed a great sense of responsibility and empathy, especially towards his peers, so she never once doubted his actions.

On the other hand, Jeongguk felt a sense of loneliness. Being an only child during summer meant many things, one of them being the fact that he was bound to be alone most of the time since schools were closed. And so he would do what he liked the most. He would go out and film.

Usually, the subjects were his own mother, or father. But sometimes he enjoyed making scenarios on his own, pretending to be a great director and moving his actors — his toys — however he wanted, “One, two, three… action! We're rolling!”

His passion for photography and movies had grown increasingly over the past year, also due to him finding his new favourite thing ever in an old box of his dad, a Samsung SCD71.

As Barbie was about to finally kiss Ken under an imaginary stormy downpour, which Jeongguk was trying to make as believable as possible, a sudden noise had completely obscured the microphone of the camera, probably making the recording unusable. “What’s going on…” Jeongguk directed the camcorder towards the origin of the annoying sound, and through the lenses he caught sight of a moving truck that had just parked on the road. More specifically, it stopped in front of the house next to his, which he had learnt to be empty. Up to that day, apparently.

Curiosity had always been one of the most striking and dominant aspects of Jeongguk's personality, which he probably got from his dad. Camera hanging around his neck, he got up, hopped the fence and got closer to the truck, still careful not to get on the road, just as his mommy had advised him.

Jeongguk came closer, spotting a girl about his age carrying a box double her size. Her voice could be heard, even if suppressed by the weight of those items, “Mom, why do I need to carry these things, they're so heavy!” The girl whined fruitlessly, her mom going on about how she was just being dramatic, “Eunbi, just leave it on the porch and your dad will take care of it.”

To Jeongguk, it didn’t look like the kid was being dramatic. Those boxes seemed hard to even pick up. He bit his lip deep in thought, so much he didn’t even realise his feet moving on their own and getting even closer to the scene. Before he knew it, he asked, “Do you need help with that?” He felt the urge to lend a hand, just because that was in his nature.

The little girl was startled, almost losing balance at hearing a stranger’s voice directed at her. She couldn’t see who it was because of the box limiting her view, but she figured it didn’t belong to someone much older than her. When she put the carton down, she got confirmation that she guessed right. Still, her first instinct was defensive, “Huh? Who are you? And no, I don't need any help, thank you.”

It was Jeongguk’s turn to be startled. Initially left speechless, he tilted his head at being rejected when he was just trying to be nice. No problem, he’ll try again, “Oh, okay but… you were just saying the box is heavy?”

The snappy girl furrowed her brows, seemingly much mature for the age she was showing, “Yes, but that doesn't imply that I can't carry it.” Arms crossed, she looked proud of the reply she came up with, but really was just waiting for her dad to do something about the weighty box.

Tilting his head to the other side, Jeongguk reminded the girl of her little black poodle she had to leave back in her old town with her grandma. Big brown eyes and long hair, the boy pouted in thought, “Im- imply? What's that?” What can he say, he had always preferred scientific subjects.

“Whatever.” Eunbi — was that her name? — looked around in hopes to find her parents, who were inside, busy unboxing the most important items to get the long process of moving out started. When she stared back at the boy, she sighed, “I guess you can help me.”

Jeongguk chuckled contentedly, suddenly very pleased with carrying heavy things for a girl he didn’t even know. “What’s your name?” He tried to make conversation while they both went back and forth with the cartons, a silent competition between them on who was faster.

”I’m Song Eunbi… you?” Both too tired to keep carrying other stuff, they sat down on the stairs of the door to her new house, which she didn’t seem that excited about.

“Oh, I'm Jeon Jeongguk, I live next door. I came here because of the noise, heh.” He smiled a big one, showing his teeth and almost fully closing his eyes. That caused the younger one to smile too, starting to let her guard down. With the boxes out of the question, she noticed a big object hanging around his neck, “Woah… what’s that?”

She reached to touch the Samsung camcorder but he was quicker, grabbing it and tugging it to his chest in a protective manner. The pigtails girl retracted her hand, a slow pout coming on her face but not fully developing, because before that could happen Jeongguk had recovered with a jolt of his head, “Sorry, don’t like people touching it. It’s a camera. I use it to record and stuff. You wanna see?”

Eunbi didn’t reply, wary of the device in Jeongguk’s hand, and she just watched him maneuver it as if it was his job. When he gasped, she returned the attention to his face, “It was still recording. Forgot to turn it off…” He seemed more as if he was muttering to himself, but then he also shifted his gaze towards her.

Lifting the lenses up to his face, Jeongguk pointed the camera towards his — hopefully — new friend, “Do you wanna say hi?” He zoomed in and out, focusing on the background then on her. “Huh… hi.” She smiled sweetly and the boy remained on that view for more seconds than necessary, before ending the recording.

The initially grumpy girl seemed to share that same curiosity that characterised Jeongguk so well, because she eagerly started asking the older kid questions about the camera, and he easily complied.

They spent the next two hours watching Jeongguk’s self-directed short movies, in which Barbie was always somewhat saved by Ken; and then Eunbi was so inspired by that, she tore open her toy box and instructed Jeongguk just how to direct the sequel of one specific film he had showed her.

His mom was scared, to say the least. Opening the front door to call Jeongguk for dinner and not instantly seeing him. Panic, panic, panic. None of that was occurring in Jeongguk’s head, though. He was so excited to have new toys that he could use to fulfil his director dream, and Eunbi seemed happy too. Together, they created the most original stories that the only child could surely have never come up with on his own.

When Jeongguk thought he heard his mom’s voice, for the first time throughout those endless hours he lifted his head up from the camera. “Baby! Oh, thank God, I was so scared.” His mom came rushing towards him, holding his head to her chest.

Toys dropped to the ground, Jeongguk looked at his mother and the clear height difference made him also aware of how dark the sky had turned compared to when he first walked out his door.

“We were just about to come around!” At that exact moment, Eunbi’s parents walked down the stairs of their porch to greet Mrs. Jeon, “Our pleasure, you must be Jeongguk’s mom?”

The mentioned lady only nodded her head, anxiety still struggling to leave her body after thinking she just lost her only son. “I am… Um, I’m sorry about him,”

”No, don’t even!” Eunbi’s mom interrupted, “He’s been nothing but a sweetheart. We would love to have him, you and your husband over for dinner this week. We just moved in and it’d be nice to make friends.” She admitted, slightly embarrassed that her flow of thoughts made her say that out loud.

While the adults were sharing adults-stuff talk, Jeongguk managed to escape his mom’s embrace and go back to his new friend. He pointed the camera to himself, “I’m sorry, my dear public, but the movie has been interrupted.” Jeongguk announced with the saddest voice, looking over at Eunbi who nodded just as dramatically.

Now with the lenses on her, she sighed, “Yes, sadly. Will Barbie save Ken from the zombie apocalypse?” She sounded genuinely upset they didn’t get to find out, “I guess we’ll never know.”

They did find out. Made another four sequels that summer. Jeongguk will forever hold that to his heart as the best he’s ever had, the first time in his 10 years of life he spent the scorching season with a friend by his side, making the heat and the boredom bearable.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Are you even listening to me?” Jimin looks at Jeongguk, annoyance clear on his features when he notices the younger one isn’t paying attention to his rant about cafeteria prices being ridiculously high. They had decided to try and get some assignments done in a coffee shop that had just recently opened, but actually ended up talking about anything but university. Jimin waves a hand in front of the brown haired boy’s face, “Earth to Jeongguk?”

The mentioned boy shakes his head, lifting it from the palm on which he was resting his cheek, “Huh? Sorry, what was that?” Jeongguk hadn't meant to space out, but lately it seems like it's been easier to get lost in his thoughts. Jimin's eyes soften visibly as he sighs.

“It was nothing important,” now that the blonde guy has his friend’s attention again, he thinks of shooting the question he’s been careful about asking. “I was actually wondering if you wanted to come out tomorrow evening. The whole group is going.” Hope fills Jimin's voice and he forces his biggest smile, knowing convincing Jeongguk to go out these past weeks had been close to impossible.

Jeongguk studies his best friend’s face, squinting his eyes suspiciously, “Is she gonna be there?” Such a simple question completely shutters the already minuscule hope Jimin had left.

Still, the blonde head tries to act unbothered, “I did just say that the whole group is going too.” He searches for the younger’s eyes but it looks like he’s already set on a firm answer.

“Then no.” Jeongguk replies, his eyes low on the table, picking up every uninteresting detail he can catch. He knows there’s no actual reason for him to reject Jimin’s invitation. He also knows it’s been a while since he started being this difficult over simple matters he wouldn’t have stressed about months ago. What he doesn’t know is since when he started feeling like he doesn't belong among his own friends. Or better, he does, yet he doesn't want to acknowledge it.

The older of the pair sighs, fixing his hair and trying to find a solution to his friend’s sudden change in demeanour, “You know, you really should talk to her. Sort this thing out between you two.” His voice is careful, almost too delicate. Jimin had always been a big advocate in the truce between the two, if there had even been a war to begin with, yet never managed to make Jeongguk reason with him.

No matter how gentle Jimin was trying to be, he still gets an unwanted reaction from the other man, who now crosses his arms on his chest and furrows his brows. “Oh, so I should be the one to talk first. Why can't it be her? No one ever thinks of the way I’m feeling.” Once again, Jeongguk is being unreasonably difficult. He hates the words he chooses as soon as they come out of his mouth.

Jeongguk knows his friends deeply care for him, especially the one in front of him. They had been glued together since the day they met, now even sharing an apartment. They weren’t totally compatible for multiple reasons, but that’s probably why they became so close. They both added elements that were missing to each other and created a smooth dynamic, a connection able to transcend many barriers.

That’s why Jeongguk knows he can be as childish as he wants, because Jimin will always find the right words to put him in his rational mind again, “Guk, what I’m trying to say is… This is genuinely not healthy for you. You’ve been stressing so much over this and detaching yourself from the others.”

The brown haired boy keeps eye contact with his friend now, no longer escaping confrontation. He’ll admit he’s tired of running. Jimin really hopes his eyes can help his words convey how he feels about this, “They’ve asked me if you’re okay, you know. They noticed. They miss you when you’re not there.”

Hearing this makes Jeongguk bite his lip and look away in thought. He’s never been like this. Jeongguk doesn’t want to be like this. Feels terrible knowing his friends have probably interpreted him being more absent in a completely wrong way. No one else knows about the real reason, except Jimin.

He feels stupid when he realises just seeing her again had taken such a toll on him, when really he loves being surrounded by his people. The people who have been by his side this past year, who made university bearable, with whom he finally felt like he belonged somewhere. Now, one of them is in front of him, trying anything to get him to say a simple yes, “C’mon? It’s gonna be fun, we can just be on our own if you w-“

“Jimin. It’s okay. I’m coming.” He doesn’t know if it’s an impulsive decision, but seeing the incredulous smile on the blonde guy’s face makes him not dwell too much on what he just agreed to.

Jimin scoots his seat closer, putting his hands on Jeongguk’s shoulders, “Really? You’ll come?” Seeing the other boy just nodding at his questions, he makes a sound close to a squeal and claps his hands, “It’s gonna be so fun. The best party we’ve ever been to. I promise!”

The younger one just laughs while Jimin goes on about how he has to update the group chat on Jeongguk’s presence and, “Should we plan our fits? I was thinking of wearing that shirt Hobi lent me that I never gave back.”

Jeongguk laughs, genuinely surprised that his presence could lift Jimin’s spirit up so much. He has been too harsh on himself ever since she made her appearance, thinking it wouldn’t make a difference if he was there or not for the others. Fuck her. Those are his friends too.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

As soon as he heard the house phone ring, he picked it up. There could be three possible people calling: his aunt, his grandmother, or Eunbi. Guessing by the time displayed on his computer, it had to be the third. With how much the two of them spent talking over the phone (even if they lived next to each other) Jeongguk had asked his mom to get him a desk phone of his own, so it could be easier to call.

Pausing the game he had been close to finishing, he moved the device to his ear, “Hello?”

“Jeongguk…” Noises close to sobs could be heard on the other line, making the boy worry. It was definitely his neighbour’s voice, but something about it was not right.

With his eyes unconsciously wide open, making them bigger than they already were, he got up from his seat on the desk, “Bee? Everything okay?”

Silence was what he was met with initially, until he could hear sniffing and shuffling, “Huh… I don’t know. I think I got the… thing.”

At that, Jeongguk slowed down. Panic slowly left his body, which automatically sat down again on the chair. The boy almost didn’t consider a very important feature characterising his best friend: her being totally over dramatic about anything slightly outside of her usual routine.

If one single hair was out of place; if someone didn’t agree with her; if Jeongguk picked Toad instead of his usual Luigi in Mario Kart. Little meaningless actions that could get Eunbi to either yell, cry, or both.

When anything of the sort would get that reaction out of the girl, Jeongguk would do the most to be an absolute menace and make it ten times worse, just because he enjoyed bickering with her.

However, he knew not to do that in situations like these, when he didn’t know if she was genuinely hurt and needed some sort of comfort, protection. That’s why he did his best to understand the situation, “What… thing are we talking about exactly?”

“I… This is disgusting. But my parents are out, I’m home alone, and,” she sobbed “I need diapers but like, for women.” Another hiccup escaped her.

The boy on the other side didn’t know how to react. Had a vague idea of what could have happened but wasn’t that confident to assume, “What the heck are you talking about.”

“Jeongguk! Just get me those things and come here!” The line got cut abruptly and for a second Jeongguk sat there, just listening to the endless beeping. It resembled what was happening within his brain cells. Think, think, think.

He was pretty sure he saw his mother buying diapers-like stuff, came across them a few times in the bathroom. Knew every time she complained about pain, his dad automatically went out to buy those for her; figured it’s what Eunbi needed and begged for.

Putting the phone down, he sprinted to the upstairs bathroom, glad his parents were still downstairs, probably watching those game shows they love, assuming from their laughter. Which is also how he thought they would react if they saw him digging through his mom’s drawer looking for pads.

He found two types, “Why do they make one for day and one for night…” As he inspected them, he figured he should bring both and let the pained girl try them on or something. Do they go by size? This is weird.

Jeongguk took everything he could find and put it in his backpack, hurriedly going down the stairs and just then realising he had to come up with an excuse to his parents’ questioning eyes.

“Huh… Eunbi wanted to show me a new game she got. I’ll be back in a few.” He nodded enthusiastically, more to himself for being so quick on the spot, and rapidly exited the door before anything his parents said could stop him.

When he rang the doorbell, the first time wasn’t successful. He unconsciously bit his lip and tried again, worried something might have happened. With his finger hovering over the buzzer for a third time, the door suddenly opened and a messy haired Eunbi pulled him in.

“This is insane. I’m only eleven. This can’t be happening, Gguk. I used Dad’s computer to look this up and it’s saying this comes every month. Every month!” His back to the door, the boy was held hostage by his babbling best friend on the verge of a serious crisis, “This is the end of m-“

“Jesus Christ, stop.” Jeongguk put his hands on her shoulders, trying to get the scared girl to stop panicking, “I got what you need. They’re called pads, by the way. Also, why do I know more about this than you?” The older boy knew he shouldn’t be pissing off his already very pissed off neighbour, but he can’t help it. Loved making fun of her.

Still, with Eunbi’s voice being surely audible even from outside the house, yelling at him for disrespecting her, he took out the women-diapers and handed them to her, “Listen, I’m not sure how these work. I can look it up online, if you w-“

“No, oh my god. You don’t wanna see what I saw. I’ll figure this out.” Tugging the five packs of pads to her chest, she nodded confidently. She rocked on her heels, lifting her shoulders up and then down releasing a long sigh, almost as if she was waiting for something else. Jeongguk exchanged her (not so) convinced nod, not sure what else to do, “Huh… Okay, go.”

“Yes! Right,” Nodding again, this time repeatedly, she turned around. Not even one step in, she spinned to face the older boy again, embarrassment dancing on her cheeks, “Um… actually, stand outside the door?” She smiled her sweetest one and, without waiting for an answer, dragged him to the bathroom door, closing it to his face but still talking through the whole thing, oh, I think it fits like this; no, maybe like that. This doesn’t feel so bad. Just sticky. Jeongguk wasn’t sure this was what he agreed to when becoming friends with a girl.

Twenty minutes later, the newly menstruating girl came out of the room, looking up at her best friend. He was glad something different was now showing on her face, something close to relief, “I feel better, Gguk. I feel like this is a new beginning,” which was followed by her endless ranting — review and all — on this new experience. She couldn’t believe she shared her first period with Jeongguk. Heck, Jeongguk couldn’t either.

“Why didn’t you just call your mom?” With a movie playing in the background, only after an hour of looking up “menstrual cycle” online, he genuinely wondered why he was the one there instead of her mom or one of her girl friends.

By the looks of it, Eunbi didn’t take the simple question that well, “I get it, you hate me, you think I’m annoying and-“

“God, you get what I mean when I say you’re over dramatic?”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

That version of Eunbi feels much closer to the one that’s in front of him right now, turned around and waiting in line to get inside the club all their friends decided to go to together. After agreeing impulsively, there was much rethinking on his side, but Jimin would keep begging him to just come, it’ll be a fun night.

Sure. There he is. Not even in, and already hating every second of it. It was not only because of her, Jeongguk just didn’t get the hype around dancing for hours and being suffocated by other sweating drunk bodies. To be completely honest, he dreaded these places. Now even more, having to witness Eunbi fighting with random men that take pissing people off as a hobby.

The worst thing that could happen to her already over dramatic personality is being joined by the origin of drama itself, Dahye. The latter is actually the reason why the now yelling girl became part of his friend group. In the middle of last semester, she had to look for a roommate and fate wanted her to be the last person on earth he wished to see again, especially in Seoul. However, they instantly kicked off and she got introduced to the others, which also included Jeongguk. Imagine his face when he saw her.

Everything led to this moment though, with Eunbi and Dahye entertaining the dumb, probably already drunk guys over an even dumber argument, “How are you judging me for drinking a Sex on the Beach when you literally reek of beer, the worst beverage on earth.”

Jeongguk doesn’t know if he’s glad or not that the girl didn’t lose her blabbering tendencies, the little kid inside him enjoying the bickering and seeing her worked up over dismissible issues. However, no matter if she’s discussing cocktails or science, he feels like keeping his guard up high this time, just because these men don’t look like they have the best intentions, and he doesn’t want anybody to get hurt. Anybody.

He’s proved right when they emit the ugliest laughs at Eunbi’s claims, with one of them getting almost all up in her face, which Jeongguk doesn’t like at all. He takes a step further, securing a safer spot behind the girls in case something happens and he has to intervene. You never know with the two roommates, it’s not the first time they’ll be causing a scene. It’s not because he cares about the shorter girl. He’s just worried about her potentially getting the group kicked out. Yeah.

Licking his lips, the bald guy (not even an inch taller than the girls in flat sandals) squares the Sex on the Beach girl up and down, doesn’t look like he’s close to letting the stupid fight go, “Let me guess, the cocktail, those shoes, the attitude… You probably study some dumb shit like Psychology, huh?”

Such a meaningless statement gets all his minions to laugh, patting his shoulders and making more comments amongst themselves. Dahye rolls her eyes, unamused by the whole act, “That’s not the outrage you think it is, babe.”

That only gets the drunk men to laugh more, Jeongguk squeezing his fists for a second and instantly reading the look on the other angered girl’s face, knowing she’s probably ready to turn this into the worst night of every present person’s life just for the sake of her degree’s reputation.

“Ha, ha. Very funny. It’s Literature, you dickwad. You know, you're single-handedly making engineers’ notoriety even worse than it actually is.” Jeongguk knows there’s no stopping Eunbi, but he wishes he could right now. He’s glad the girl is able to stand her own ground, but is also afraid this may end horribly.

The counterpart of the diss seems taken aback, his two brain cells struggling even more because of the alcohol in his body, “How do you know I’m an engineer?”

Having it served on a silver plate, the girl in her short dress smirks, “‘Cause you look like a fucking dick.”

The men feign their surprise, the guy that mainly entertained the conversation saying something along the lines of Wanna see?, pointing at his down area and snickering, while his friends act like he’s the absolute peak of comedy.

Jeongguk has to clench his jaw, not at all pleased with how the situation is escalating. He knows Eunbi can handle such stuff, but he swears he’s one more comment away from stepping in.

On the other hand, she doesn’t seem to mind, not even thinking of backing up and showing the guy her pointer finger and thumb almost touching, indicating the guy’s size. Jeongguk slightly smirks. Then immediately wipes that off his face. He doesn’t find her funny.

“You know, this is the third time you end up talking about my dick,” the bastard is getting closer to his friends, and Jeongguk hates that. “You’re funny, you just need to be disciplined.”

As soon as those words leave his mouth, Eunbi doesn’t hesitate to invade the guy’s personal space too, holding eye contact, ready to literally throw hands if not for Dahye quickly catching her arm to move her away.

The bald head scoffs, before adding the filthiest shit his misogynistic limited mind could come up with, “If you ever need this engineer’s dick when whatever you’re studying leaves your ass on the sidewalk, you can come suck it for a couple of wons.”

Jeongguk sees absolute red for a second. He’s had more than enough now, putting a hand on Eunbi’s shoulder before anything more than an incredulous gasp could leave her mouth. He makes himself noticed, not that it was hard with his taller figure, taking matters in his own hands, “What the hell is your problem, man?”

When the mentioned guy diverts his eyes from the girl he just degraded and moves them on Jeongguk, he takes a step back. Still, he doesn’t stop his dirty mouth from running, “Shit, is she already busy with you? Sorry, man.”

His group laughs at that too, and the taller boy unconsciously squeezes his hand on the girl’s shoulder, clenching his jaw. “You’re fucking disgusting. Get the fuck out of here before I make you.”

What his eyes convey is definitely stronger than the words he lets out, wishing he could destroy every bone in the guy’s body, who now knows to stop being so smart. He mutters a few more comments though, making it harder for Jeongguk to not act upon his violent thoughts, “I’ll give you three fucking seconds.”

That makes the guy lift his hands up in surrender and finally turn the other way, distancing himself even from his friends, who don’t find him amusing anymore.

Jeongguk thinks the whole thing is over, but of course he should have trusted his wide knowledge on the fussy girl’s behaviour more, and predicted that she wouldn’t have let it go so easily, “Oh, so now that a man broke in you shut up, huh? Come talk, you little pus-“

“Eunbi. C’mon. We have to get in,” It’s — strangely — Dahye who doesn’t go along with her roommate and instead directs her to the entry, assuring her how there’s going to be no more trouble and just a long night of fun. The other girl just scoffs, too busy looking back at those men to try and get them to react again, but when she’s inside and she loses sight of them she finds her eyes meeting Jeongguk’s, who is directly behind her.

The interaction is awkward, to say the least. She slightly bows at him in recognition, while he just nods and does his best to avoid finding her eyes again, resorting to turning around in search for Jimin, probably way behind with Hoseok.

He’s so thankful when he feels a pat on his shoulder, and looking to his side it’s Namjoon that pulls him into a side hug, “That was tuff, man.”

“Ah, nothing,” Jeongguk nods, adrenaline still struggling to leave his body and not allowing him to relax. He follows his friend’s steps even if they’re going in the same direction as the person he’s now even more than before trying to avoid. He didn’t plan to be this close to her for so long.

“I thought you hated,” the taller guy uses his chin to refer to the girl in front of them. “But here you are defending her.”

The other guy is glad for the loud music playing, the last thing he wanted was for the mentioned girl to hear. He also doesn’t want Namjoon or anyone else to think that was him coming in her defence. It was just common sense. Doesn’t know why he felt like breaking the guy’s nose though. Figures that’s common sense too.

Before he can justify himself, the remaining members of the group reach them, giving Jeongguk the chance to get away from the sight of the girl but still feeling a burning sensation on his tongue. The need to make himself clear.

The chaotic atmosphere is even more emphasised by his already tipsy friends telling him again and again how happy they are to see him here, shaking him by the shoulders with way too much enthusiasm. Now distracted by the earlier incident, he just jokes with them like usual, but he feels a nervous sensation creeping up his neck. With a drink in his hand, he tries to follow the music, but he can’t seem to focus.

When Jeongguk finds Namjoon again, who was already handed a drink by Jimin, he gets close to his ear, replying to his previous insinuation, “I wasn’t- defending her.”

The older guy furrows his brows at him, signalling the conversation being over and certainly not that important, “Sure, man.” Showing his thumbs up, Namjoon scream sings some lyrics at him, Jeongguk still feeling a bit uneasy. He just needed to specify that. He was not defending Eunbi. Well, technically. But Dahye was there too, and she’s his friend. Of course he would have done th-

“Ggukkie!” It’s Jimin’s voice pulling him away from his thoughts, but also pulling him closer to the floor, “I’m so happy you’re here! This is fun, no?”

Jeongguk nods and chuckles at his best friend’s horrific dance moves, just now realising how tipsy he already is but taking it as the opportunity to fully let what happened go.

The rest of the night is unexpectedly fun. He’s surrounded by great energy that his friends keep oozing, and he realises just how much he had missed laughing to the point of his stomach hurting. Shouting when the group's favourite songs came on. Chuckling at a way too drunk Hoseok trying to get him to move his hips a bit more. Of course, he should have predicted his friends’ main goal is to get absolutely shit faced tonight. He isn’t really in the mood for that, though enjoying the state of the others while too much alcohol is flowing in their bodies.

No drinking means Jeongguk’s social battery is running out much faster than the others’, not having enough energy to entertain the constant back and forth between his friends, and certainly to handle them not even needing one single break from the dance floor.

At some point during the endless dancing, he settles on just being by the bar counter, sitting on a stool and taking no more than a few sips from the drink Jimin had given him as soon as he had stepped foot in the club, which was hours ago by now. He doesn’t know why, but alcohol tastes awful on his tongue tonight and it’s a task on its own to even swallow it.

”Can I buy you a drink?” It comes from a silky voice on his right, close enough to startle him slightly before he recollects and takes in the girl looking at his face expectantly. She has soft features framed by smooth blonde hair, completely contrasted by her intense makeup and burgundy mini dress. So far from his type, but Jeongguk entertains it for some reason.

”Well, you stole my line there,” the smile he gives her is gentle but playful and it sets the girl into a fit of giggles, clearly amused by the mysterious dark guy sitting alone by the bar. And that’s exactly what she tells him, ”I had to give it a try, you get me? I love boys that look just like they need to be fixed.”

“That is absolutely ridiculous,” he genuinely laughs, and he’s joined by her. Jeongguk can’t lie, the conversation between them takes off right from the start. It’s a nice back and forth that takes his mind off things for a while, not enough to actually give into her flirty intentions, but enough to eventually move to the dance floor with her. She’s witty and he likes that about her. Abbey? Ashley? He clearly doesn’t like her enough to remember. Or maybe he just doesn’t care.

He can’t bring himself to, especially when his line of vision falls right on a tipsy Dahye-less Eunbi next to what seems to be more than one guy. She’s laughing a lot and he’s sure none of what the men are spluttering can be that funny. It’s probably just the alcohol, and that is enough for him to keep him observing. Only to make sure nothing bad happens.

Abbey-Ashley must have noticed his sudden disinterest, and with boldness she wraps her short arms around his neck, bringing him way too close to her face than he had planned to be to any woman this night. The eye contact is uncomfortable, and Jeongguk is itching to keep checking on whatever was happening not too far from him, but the blonde speaks her wittiness again, “You won’t let me offer you a drink and you’re not willing to dance with me, is this how men feel?”

The pearly smile on her face lets him know the setting between them is still playful, so he just shakes his head letting a small giggle out of his mouth. Now with the woman almost hanging from his neck, he resolves on just going along with her moves, and when he steals a glance at the girl he was previously keeping an eye on and sees her staring back he feels a sense of unwarranted satisfaction.

He keeps searching for that, wanting more of that groundless feeling but all he’s met with is more and more flashes of her digging a hole he’s afraid she’s gonna fall in, with the men acting way too friendly and her drunk mind not noticing. Or just not caring.

When the blonde in front of him starts being a little too inclined on taking the physical contact further, he regrets not even finishing his previous and only drink of the night, wishing he could give in but knowing he can’t with his mind thinking way too rationally and being too aware of his surroundings. He genuinely thinks Abbey-Ashley is a nice girl, and he feels sorry knowing he’s going to reject her. Thinks it was kind of fuckboy-ish for him to go along with her knowing they’re on two completely different lines, but still doing it because it seemed like the quickest escape from his running mind.

He gently puts his hands on her waist, intent on moving her away and trying to come up with a reasonable excuse, when he hears his name being called and for the second time tonight, he’s glad Namjoon’s parents fucked. ”Hey, JK- oh shoot, am I interrupting something?”

The smokey eyed girl breaks away from her moment and seems suddenly very interested in hearing Jeongguk’s answer, batting her eyelashes at him in hopes of getting a different reaction from what she knows the evident one is going to be. She did know the brown haired man was not interested; she still figured she could try and change that.

Jeongguk moves his gaze from his friend to the girl and hesitates, “Huh… not really.” He gives an awkward tight lipped smile, thinking this is fucking embarassing, then tries not to read too much in Namjoon’s weirded out expression, “What’s up?”

“Everybody is leaving, Jimin and Dahye already did with Hoseok after throwing up on three sofas.” Namjoon scoffs, rolling his eyes amusedly, “Anyway, see you in uni?”

Jeongguk has a few questions he’s afraid to know the answer to, but still he daps up his friend and then inevitably searches with his eyes for Eunbi, the reason for his worry. He knows Dahye, her usual ride home, will kill him if he lets her roommate wander off with some random men while drunk. Hell, he himself wouldn’t let that happen. He dislikes the girl, but he’s still human.

Jeongguk stresses even more when he sees her directed towards the exit with said guys. He completely disconnects from what the burgundy dressed girl is telling him, only picking up a “Can I get your number, though?”

Maybe it’s his guiltiness acting, or just him wanting to find a quick escape, but he does share his number in surely unanswered hope that she’s going to give up reaching out to him eventually. That does get her to part ways though, not before a sneaky kiss is left on his cheek. He really wants to kill Eunbi.

His next steps are directed towards her, ready to re-enact his previous success at getting rid of those beer stinking misogynists, but he’s left surprised, and in some sense relieved, when he sees her standing alone, arms wrapped around her small freezing figure with her phone to her ear. When he gets closer, he’s able to catch her muttering nasty remarks towards Dahye, so bad that he believes her roommate can feel them right now, in her probably passed out state and all.

”Fucking fuck, why is she not answering,” Before she can dial her number for the fifth time, she spots Jeongguk on her right, and for the first time since they saw each other again in years, she seems glad that he’s there, “Jeongguk!” Her voice is giddy, and he thinks he hasn’t heard his name being said like that in a long time.

Still, he keeps an unbothered act up while standing in front of her, hands in his jeans pockets, “Dahye went home already. I’m guessing she was your ride home.”

Now, he knows she’s overdramatic, but with alcohol flowing through her system that trait of her surely reaches its finite form. She lets out an incredulously loud gasp, mouth hanging and all, and whispers some more insults under her breath. When she still doesn’t reply, he listens more attentively to what she’s muttering and he latches on to her intention of going back home with a taxi, “I have 9,000 won on me, so that will probably do, Eunbi…”

He witnesses beyond belief the girl in front of him giving herself a whole encouraging speech before taking off onto the road, uncareful of eventual vehicles steering on it. That triggers his instinct, yelling her name. It unexpectedly but luckily stops her in her tracks, making her turn around with a not so pleased expression.

Jeongguk can’t believe what he’s offering to do while having to be met with that look on her face. Ugh, brat. “What the hell are you doing? C’mon, I’m taking you home.”

The laugh she lets out is so obnoxious and loud that a few people actually turn around startled, and Jeongguk has to literally sprint over to her, holding her wrist to bring her further away from the road and from the club’s entrance, “Shut up, God,” He whisper yells, while she seems to do the exact opposite.

It luckily stops at some point, but as if nothing ever happened she turns too serious too soon, ”You…” Her finger is pointed at Jeongguk’s chest in what seems to be a menacing manner, eyes narrowed and dipping into his, “You own that loud bike. I’m not getting on it. Not getting on it!” She yells that last sentence, making a scene as if she was trying to break free from Jeongguk’s hold, which he immediately drops, while still trying to get her to be quiet.

The genuinely desperate expression on the boy’s face is enough for her next move to be crouching in half, holding her stomach as unexpected laughter holds her body hostage once again, Jeongguk sighing unbelievably and regretting every single thought of his that led him to follow her outside.

”Can you please- be normal,” Jeongguk actually begs, bringing the girl up and noticing real tears around her eyes, smudging her glittery makeup. He doesn’t know what’s so funny, his expression clearly conveying that annoyment.

”You- You’re too funny,” She giggles, recovering from her sudden fit of laughter, which dies down slowly this time with her emitting a long sigh. The drunk girl shakes her head to herself, retrieving her phone once again and opening the Uber app. Jeongguk is having none of it.

”I’m being serious. I’m not letting you get a taxi at this hour. You’re getting on that loud bike, like it or not.” His firm statement is luckily not followed by chuckles, nor by a witty remark, just her snapping her head up with big eyes staring into his unsurely. He feels like having to deal with an eleven year old all over again, only this time his patience is running thin and he doesn’t feel like waiting.

The girl catches up to him, trying her best to keep up with his pace and following him closely to the vehicle that’s going to be her ride home tonight. She shivers, not only because she’s cold but also because she’s rethinking life choices. Eunbi scrambles to find anything to avoid what was bound to happen, her slow mind trying to come up with a quick escape and not even registering Jeongguk putting his jacket around her shoulders and securing the helmet under her chin, while she almost literally just stands there. “I’m sure-” she hiccups, “I’m sure that blonde girl would love to be in my position right now.”

That is not at all how it was supposed to come out nor sound, the confusion evident on the boy’s face being met with horror written in the girl’s expression. She stutters, “I meant, like- you should be taking her home.”

A part of his brain notes the fact that she was also observing him from a distance not too long ago inside the club, but he leaves that thought for his late night thinking. Right now, he chuckles amusedly, sitting on his bike while adjusting his hair, “Hop on. It won’t kill you.”

The possibility of the bike killing her almost does it for her, until she remembers the other option. Having to pay for an Uber at 4 a.m. while too drunk to even formulate a senseful sentence. In front of her instead, a free ride by no one other than the boy she’s been shamelessly avoiding for no reason, too scared to actually confront him. What a great second option.

Still, she balances herself using his shoulders and gets on the bike, not knowing where to put her hands next. That thought seems to be registering at the same time in Jeongguk’s head, who revs the engine, “I suggest you hold onto me.”

Eunbi scoffs, shoving her straightened hair back in a sassy manner, “There’s no way in hell-“ Her remark is abruptly interrupted by a loud squeal, followed by her arms wrapping around his torso in under one millisecond, with Jeongguk suddenly taking off at full speed.

He laughs a genuine one, and that gets the scared girl pissed beyond hell, yelling in his ear about how she hates his guts with her hands almost close to groping his pecs. Can you blame her? They’re the closest thing she can hold on to right now to survive.

He does slow down, as does his laughter and her screaming, but then as he rounds the club he spots the men who had been bothering Eunbi at the beginning of the night intent on crossing the street. He figures he can play a bit more before actually stopping sabotaging the girl in the back’s health. Just a little something to get back at them for their comments. So, he zooms right past them, cutting their way suddenly and almost probably going over one of their toes, their incredulous yelling and remarks being music for his ears, joined by the girl he’s taking home as she screams more insults at him, looking back at the angered men getting further as Jeongguk drives away.

”Are you trying to take my life?” She’s almost voiceless as she tries to make herself heard over the engine, squeezing Jeongguk’s waist in genuine fear. All she gets back from the biker is a giggle, and a tap on her knee, “Sorry. They deserved it. You can relax now.”

As suspicious as she may have been initially, he didn’t lie. The rest of the ride is pleasant, slow driving while a sweet summer breeze brushes her face and makes her hair flow with the wind. No one dares break the moment, not even at red lights when the only sound that can be heard over the silence is the growling motor. Eunbi is glad Jeongguk knows the way to her flat, having already been there with the others for a few house parties she and Dahye hosted. That means she can just zone out in the back, her head resting on Jeongguk’s shoulders, and right in this moment she doesn’t regret almost risking her life, the sight of the city flashing past her making her forget all about it.

When Jeongguk can feel the grip around his torso getting loose, he taps her knee twice, afraid she might be falling asleep. He’s proved right when that gesture gets her to suddenly shake her head, muttering some noises and tightening her hold around him again. He smiles, ”We’re almost home, don’t fall asleep on me.”

Indeed, the sight of her building comes to view shortly after, Jeongguk stopping in front of it and waiting for his backpack to get off the bike. When she does, she stumbles slightly, seemingly gaining consciousness of her surroundings again. Jeongguk notices she completely wrapped herself in his leather jacket, figures she was probably freezing to death in that short dress of hers. Thinks it’s a cute sight. Regrets having a brain right after.

Said cute sight struggles to take off the helmet, Jeongguk itching to help her, but she succeeds unexpectedly without any help. Still no word being uttered by any of the two, with her hair a tangled mess, she gets close to him and repeats the same actions Jeongguk did to her earlier, handing his jacket back and putting the helmet around his head. When she’s done she pats it, then takes a step back.

A simple ride home on Jeongguk’s bike seems to have opened a black hole of unsaid truths, being communicated by their eyes just staring at each other. None of them is ready to voice them out, though. Eunbi clears her throat, pulling the hem of her dress down as a habit, clearly out of embarrassment. Then, she fixes her locks, “That’s very dangerous, you know?”

Jeongguk hums questionly, moving some of his bangs out of his vision and clearly seeing goosebumps rising on the girl’s skin, unsure of why she prefers trying to converse after minutes of silence over warming up in her flat.

“You giving me your helmet and your jacket. What if you hurt yourself?” She keeps muttering some more remarks under her breath, probably slander reserved just for him this time. He can make out a dumbass. What a nerve.

She may be right, though. Without his jacket on, he was only covered by a tight black shirt, nothing on his head to save him from any eventuality he doesn’t want to consider. Still, he clearly doesn’t see why he wouldn’t have preferred to protect her instead of himself, but he doesn’t exactly say that, “If I didn’t do that, you would have been a popsicle by now.”

The girl giggles, proving him right when she wraps her arms around her figure, “So, you do this for every girl? What if one of them gets you killed?”

Jeongguk scoffs amusedly, shaking his head at her implication, but deciding to ignore it, “The only one who got me close to that was you.” He only says that to gain one of her too over the top reactions, and he’s glad when she furrows her brows, hanging her mouth and bringing a hand to her chest. He chuckles, “If anything you should be thanking me.”

The usually over dramatic girl now just nods, taking in the smile on his face and grasping the fact that it hasn’t been directed at her in a long time before this moment. She smiles too, “Yeah, huh… Thanks. For the ride. ‘T was nice.”

Jeongguk figures the wind must have dried up almost all the alcohol from Eunbi’s body, because she seems to be realising, just as he is, how close they have gotten to one another while ignoring the huge elephant in the room, her attitude being way less sassy and picky with this knowledge. Fazed by this sudden but obvious realisation, he only nods.

The girl quickly notices the change in his demeanour and she nervously bites her lower lip, aware their dynamic is going to return to cold stares and unacknowledgement, but still wanting to hold onto this moment even for one more second. “Oh,” her chest jumps in some sort of gasp, realising she still has something else to thank him for, “Thanks for earlier. You know, with those guys. I appreciated it.”

Differently from Eunbi, Jeongguk wants to be done with this pretence already. As soon as he found himself getting too lost in the fantasy of them still being friends, he quickly recovered and put the wall up high again, making the distance between them even farther than it was before. He doesn’t miss the sadness in her eyes when that shift happens, but he also doesn’t want to dwell too much on it, his tone unbothered all of the sudden while his eyes convey a different story, “No problem. Get inside.”

She nods, giving him a tight lipped smile, turning around slowly and making her way to the front door of the building. She expects to hear the roaring of the bike’s engine, but the only sound that can be heard is that of the birds waking up and singing their morning songs.

Jeongguk stays in his spot on the bike until he sees the girl enter the block, releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding and then securing the helmet under his chin. Pats it, then immediately retreats his hand. “Dumbass,” That’s his signal he needs to get home as soon as possible and get some sleep, already imagining how difficult such a simple task will be with his mind running a hundred miles per hour. Fucking Bee.

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 39

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 5k

Masterlist

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Saturday, January 16th; 1:00 PM - Lucy's Room

I've been awake for a good ten minutes, but I don't dare move. I'm so comfortably settled, but more importantly, I'm afraid of waking Lucy, who is holding me firmly against her. The only thing that could make me move is my incessant headache. And yet, I'm still lying here... I'm savoring this rare moment that I might never experience again. I take in the perfection of her face and her relaxed features, which make her look so innocent. It's as if I'm her big teddy bear. The only regret I have is not being able to admire her stunning emerald eyes. Mine start to close when I feel her stir. The last thing I want is for her to catch me watching her. Her hand, which I realize is under my t-shirt, slowly withdraws after gently caressing my spine. My body betrays me, sending a thousand shivers through me. I pretend to wake up, burrowing into her chest to hide my face. I blink my eyes before lifting my head to meet the gaze of the eyes I've longed for. Their piercing effect makes me melt even more. She immediately lets go of me, as if holding me like that would break some forbidden rule. I make sure to hide my disappointed expression.

"Good morning..."

"Hi," she replies.

"Can you free my leg, please? I’d like to get up."

I tighten my legs slightly around hers when I realize I'm actually holding her back without meaning to.

"Can’t we stay like this a little longer?" I ask, burying my face in her neck.

"No," she sighs.

"Please," I groan.

"I said no," she says firmly, pulling her foot out of my grasp with a sharp movement.

"What's wrong?" I mumble.

"The problem is you're getting used to things I don't want," she says, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I need to get up. You probably have a headache to deal with."

I groan, letting my body, which had been resting on hers, fall onto the warm mattress. My headache is far from my biggest concern at the moment. At least I got to enjoy her arms until she woke up. She gets up, leaving me behind without a hint of regret.

"You didn’t seem to mind sharing your bed last night..."

The reaction I wanted has its effect. She freezes just as she’s about to leave the room. I bite my lip to stifle a smile. I'm glad the alcohol didn't take away that memory. She seems to know exactly what I'm talking about, judging by her response.

"Sorry. It was inappropriate of me. I wouldn’t have done anything like that if I were sober."

"The easy excuse..."

"A valid excuse. I can't handle alcohol at all," she retorts.

"If you say so..." I mumble. "Good Lord, it’s one o’clock," I laugh, changing the subject.

"Really?" she says, surprised. "The last time I woke up at this hour, I was your age."

"Yep, you’re old now."

I tease her as I slide my hands under her pillow to hug it. I recognize Lucy's scent on it. It's almost a substitute for her absence. Almost.

"If you say so," she shrugs. "Are you hungry?"

"A little," I admit.

"I'll make us something and see if the girls are already awake. Don't take too long, please."

"Mm-hmm."

I bury my head in her pillow right after. My response must not have pleased her because she turns around to open the shutters. I groan as daylight floods the room. Even with gray clouds, it's hard for me to adjust to so much light all at once.

"At least now I'm sure you won't fall back asleep."

I watch her leave the room with a proud smile on her lips. I wait for the door to close before groaning into the pillow. I'll never tire of waking up next to her, but this morning feels different. She seemed to be distancing herself. I hope it was just my imagination. For now, the most important thing is that she doesn't discover my feelings for her. I risk losing her for good. A perfect woman like her could never be interested in someone like me. I'm a magnet for trouble. After a moment of reflection, I decide to get out of bed. I immediately miss the warmth, and I understand why when I see my bare thighs. Damn. This outfit shouldn’t bother me since I often sleep this way, but knowing I spent the night like this with Lucy makes my cheeks heat up.

"Damn... What kind of mess am I getting myself into again..."

I rummage through her closet to find something to cover my legs. The first thing I find is a pair of sweatpants that will do just fine. As I turn around, I stop for a moment, noticing my suitcase at the foot of the bed. I thought I had left it on the other side. I shrug and head to the living room.

"The girls aren’t awake yet?" I ask when I see Lucy alone.

"They’re already gone."

I raise an eyebrow at the sticky note she hands me. I can't believe it. They're both out in the city. My best friend, who came to spend the weekend with me, is out with a girl she’s only seen twice... I can hardly believe it.

"Nice sweatpants," she snaps me out of my thoughts.

"Oh, um... I helped myself. I didn't see my suitcase."

"No worries," she chuckles. "They suit you well. Here, I made this for you."

"Thanks."

I down the glass of orange juice in one go to swallow the pill she had prepared for me. Lucy watches me with amusement. She pours me another glass at my request before returning to the stove.

"What are you cooking?" I ask, looking over her shoulder.

"Pancakes. Can you make your hot chocolate and my coffee?"

"Sure. How do you take your coffee? Black?"

"Yeah, no sugar, no milk."

"You drink it straight? Yuck," I grimace.

"Indeed. It's better that way."

"Gross."

Lucy laughs at me. I get to work, making our hot drinks one by one.

"Luce?"

"Yeah?"

"Where's the cocoa?"

"In the cupboard," she says, pointing it out to me.

"Thanks."

I grab the box to scoop two spoonfuls of cocoa into my mug, then bring everything to the table where our plates are already set. I sit down since I have nothing else to do.

"Do you want to do something this afternoon?" she asks me.

"I don't know," I shrug. "What if the girls come back before we do?"

"I doubt it," she chuckles. "Do you want to go out?"

"For what?"

"I might have an idea," she smiles mischievously.

"Okay. It can only be good."

She joins me with a plate full of pancakes, which she sets in the middle of the table. I grab one before she even sits down.

"Are you that hungry?" she giggles.

"Don't tease me. Everyone has their own post-party effects. Mine is eating a lot. Anyway," I say, clearing my throat. "So, I was wondering if you knew that Mapi and Ingrid have been texting?"

"I found out yesterday," she shrugs. "Does it bother you?"

"No, no... Well... Never mind."

"Tell me."

"There's nothing to say... Just that it's surprising."

"I don't think so. They're made to get along."

"Hmm... Do you know if... I mean, is Ingrid a lesbian? Or maybe bi?"

« She's only had relationships with girls before," she replies simply.

I nod as I spread Nutella on my pancake. Maybe Mapi does have a chance with Ingrid after all. I hope so. She deserves to be happy, even if it means getting involved with my school instructor.

- Are you jealous that she might be seeing someone else?

I look up to see Lucy with an unusually serious expression. I shake my head. No, I don't feel jealousy. It's something else, but I can't quite put my finger on it. Mostly, I feel concerned for her. What I want more than anything is for her to find the happiness she deserves.

- No. Mapi told me she likes Ingrid. I'm just checking, that's all.

- They're both adults; they can handle their relationship, she says with a shrug.

- Did Ingrid talk to you about it too?

- Yeah, and it seems the feeling is mutual.

- Oh my God, I laugh. What is all this going to turn into?

- A total disaster.

We laugh heartily. I'm relieved to know I'm not the only one who thinks so. Maybe she planned to see Ingrid instead of coming to spend the weekend with me. I'll definitely have to ask her about that.

- Want to taste?

I look up to see her offering me her cup of coffee.

- No, thanks.

- Come on, do it for me, taste it, she insists. You promised you'd try it once. You can even add milk or sugar if you want.

- Fine. Just this once, then.

I take the cup and breathe in the scent, which isn't as unpleasant as I expected. I take a deep breath before sipping. The effect is immediate. I spit out the second sip onto the table as Lucy bursts out laughing. She immediately gets up to grab some paper towels.

- Disgusting!

- You're overreacting, she laughs.

She wipes up the mess on the table before I can help.

- Let me see.

I obey, feeling my cheeks heat up as she dabs at my chin where the coffee must have dripped. Her smile widens, clearly amused by my obvious embarrassment.

- First coffee experience: memorable, she comments. I'll make you try a different one next time.

- No thanks, I grimace. This time was already too much.

- I promise it'll be better than this one.

- We'll see.

- It's already decided. I know you'll do it.

I stick my tongue out at her in response. It's certain that I'll give in if she pushes a little, but she doesn't need to know that. She ruffles my hair and retrieves her cup, finishing it in one gulp. She heads off to dispose of the used paper towels. I finish my own cup and glance over at Lucy. She's just opened the sliding door, letting a blast of cold air into the room. I'm glad I put on sweatpants. She steps out onto the terrace for a few seconds before coming back inside. She smiles when she notices me watching her.

- Are you done?

- Um, yeah… I reply, eyeing her curiously. What are you planning to do?

- I want to clean up after last night's party. You can go take your shower.

- I'd like to help, I insist.

- It's not necessary. I'm just going to mop and everything.

- At least let me clear the table, I negotiate, already starting to do so.

She shrugs, conceding defeat. I load the dishwasher while she clears the toppings. Once everything is put away, I leave to get ready. The only hint she gave me was to dress warmly. I'm tempted to wear the sweater she lent me last time. I never bothered to return it, and she never asked for it back. After some thought, I choose one of my own, then lock myself in the bathroom to take a shower.

Saturday, January 16th; 3:00 PM - Lucy's Building.

- Where are we going? I ask impatiently, like a child.

- You'll find out soon enough. Calm down, will you? she teases.

I bite my lip to keep from smiling. The elevator doors open to the basement. She noticed I only had sneakers or city boots, so she lent me a good pair of shoes. I deduced we’ll be walking and it’ll probably be cold. I feel like a little girl waiting for a surprise. I start to head toward her car, but she stops me.

- This way, Ona.

- We're not taking the car?

- Not today. The roads are pretty clear.

I furrow my brow as I follow her to a garage. My jaw drops when she opens it. If I expected that… She wants me to get on *that*?

- What's the matter, Batlle, getting cold feet?

- Do you even have a license for this thing?!

- Do you think I keep it in my garage just for fun? she mocks. If you're scared, we can take my car.

- Is that a challenge?

- Maybe. You tell me.

Her smile makes me give in. A freaking motorcycle. If I expected that! She’s made me experience everything I’ve ever wanted to do in life so far. This surprise is definitely worth it! It’s a sporty bike, metallic blue. It’s as impressive as her car. The silver rims stand out perfectly. I love this girl. She's completely nuts! She hands me a pair of gloves, which I gratefully take. I put them on without even thinking about the helmet she's bringing over.

- Damn, I groan.

- It’s okay, I’ll help, she laughs.

Without asking, she places the helmet on my head, slowly pulling on each side. I thank her when she pushes aside a few strands of hair that decided to stay in front of my eyes.

- Lift your chin. I need to adjust the strap underneath.

I comply, letting her fasten the helmet. She closes the visor with an amused smile when I lower my head. She gears up as well before looking at me. I move my head to get used to the feel of the helmet. I feel like my head is being squeezed with this thing.

- Have you ever been on a motorcycle?

- No, but I’ve always wanted to try, I admit.

- Alright. In that case, you'll hold onto me. But make sure you stay upright. Don’t lean with me when we turn, okay?

- I get it, yeah…

- If you don’t feel comfortable, just let me know.

I nod with a smile that she returns. She rolls the bike out and closes the garage. She climbs on, leaving me stunned for a moment. She looks so badass on it. She totally has the biker look with her black outfit. She motions for me to come closer. I snap out of it and move towards her. I brace my hands on her shoulders to climb on behind her. I lift my leg, but it gets stuck on the seat because I didn’t raise it high enough.

- Great start, she giggles.

- Sorry, it’s my first time, I defend myself.

- Hold onto me, alright? she warns playfully.

I blush and manage to get on the bike on my second try. My first instinct is to hold onto her waist. She doesn’t seem to mind, as she turns the key. The bike purrs with a sound as pleasing as her Audi. She must have a passion for big cars and bikes. She starts moving the bike without warning, and I instinctively press against her, wrapping my arms around her. I hear her laugh, and the vibrations coming from her body against mine make me blush again. She stops when we reach the outside.

- Ona, you’re suffocating me.

- Sorry, I say, immediately loosening my grip.

- I’m not asking you to let go, just don’t squeeze so tight, okay? Here, give me your arms.

She grabs my wrists and wraps them around her the way they should be. She starts the bike after waiting for my go-ahead. At first, I tighten my grip, but I loosen it shortly after. I stay in that position for a while until I get used to it. I notice she’s making sure to keep a reasonable speed. Despite her instructions, I still managed to lean with her during a turn. I got scolded, which reminded me of my mistake. I never imagined it would be so hard for my brain not to follow her movements. After that incident, I made sure to be more careful. I smile stupidly as we pass all the cars stopped at a red light to reach the front. I’ve always dreamed of doing that one day, and now it’s happened. She supports us with the tips of her toes when we’re stopped. I’d like to help, but I can’t touch the ground from behind. So I leave my feet on the footrests.

- We’ve got a bit of a drive ahead. Do you mind if I take the highway to get there faster? she asks.

- No, go ahead. I trust you.

- You sure? You’re not just saying that to make me happy?

- No, no. Please, go ahead. You probably haven’t ridden in a while.

- "Yes, it's true," she admits to me. "Thank you."

I hold on to her as she takes off at full speed. I'm so surprised that I press myself against her. From her laugh, I think she did it on purpose. We stop after half an hour of driving. I'm almost certain she didn't obey the speed limit, given the number of cars we passed. My smile doesn't fade when I see where we are. She never fails to surprise me. The landscape is still magnificent. She parks her motorcycle in front of a chalet that must be a small café in the middle of a small forest. I mimic Lucy, taking off my helmet and placing my gloves between my legs.

"Wow..."

"It's beautiful, isn't it? Are you getting off?"

I listen to her as I clumsily dismount, accidentally bumping into her. She doesn't say anything, just smiles. She must have picked up on my awkwardness by now. She engages the kickstand and gets off as well. She stretches to loosen up her legs while I take in the vast forest in front of us.

"Did I drive well? You weren't too scared?"

"When can we do it again?"

She laughs, telling me that there's still the return trip. We enter the small chalet, where she seems to know the owners since she introduces me and entrusts them with our helmets. The owner wishes us a good afternoon before we step outside, where I take a deep breath of fresh air.

"So, what's next on the agenda, Commander?"

"Walking," she smiles. "Let's not waste time, I just received a message. We need to be back home by six o'clock."

"Why?"

"We need to meet up with the girls to eat in town, then we'll go to the same bar as last time with my friends. Does that work for you?"

"I don't really have a choice. You've planned everything behind my back."

I puff out my cheeks to show my displeasure. She pinches them, deflating them instantly.

"I just found out myself, so don't pout at me, okay? It's not my fault!"

"Uh-huh, sure," I say, crossing my arms nonetheless.

She surprises me by wrapping her arm around my shoulders. I relax, resting my head on her shoulder. I don't stay there long as she pulls away after kissing my forehead.

"Come on, you little grouch."

I smile softly at the unexpected gesture. I realize she's becoming more and more affectionate with me. I feel the need for more, but I doubt that's what she wants. I only realize she's moved ahead of me when she calls out to me from a distance. I quickly catch up to her, and we head into the beautiful forest stripped of its foliage. Everything is white with snow. I shove my hands into my pockets to keep them warm.

"How do you feel about joining a new class on Monday?" she starts the conversation.

"I have to admit, I haven't had a second to think about it. I'd say I'm curious and a little stressed at the same time. I'm not alone, so everything should go well."

"You don't need to worry."

We continue talking about the subject until we reach the end of the path. We've arrived at a small lake with a stone waterfall. I haven't even finished drawing the landscapes she showed me last week, and now she's already showing me new ones. Lucy suggests we walk around before heading back. It's the perfect thing to relax. We continue moving forward, taking the path on the right. The silence is peaceful, but it's pleasant. I feel good. I don't think I've ever felt this good before. I feel happy and surrounded, like never before. I doubt I'll ever experience this moment as intensely again. I turn around to see Lucy lagging behind me for the first time. She's the reason for my happiness, I know it. She's going to make me burst with a thousand feelings if she keeps acting the way she does with me. She makes me feel like a different person. It's as if I can do anything by her side. Yet, I've always been told that I'm an incapable child who will never succeed in life.

" Lucy?" I call out to her, walking backward.

"Hmm?" she responds, finally looking at me.

"Thank you for everything... Thank you for being you and for transforming me into who I am right now."

"I'm not doing anything special."

"Oh yes, you are," I chuckle. "You don't even realize it."

"Don't you want to walk normally? You're going to hurt yourself again," she teases.

"No way, look, I've got this under control!"

I try to prove it by speeding up. Lucy's amused smile warms my heart in a way I can't control. This day is just too perfect to be real. I was about to say something, but my feet decided to get tangled up.

"Be careful!" she nearly shouts.

Too late... I land on my butt. I hear Lucy's laughter ringing in my ears. I groan and look at the ground to see the damn branch responsible for my stumble. I've just made a fool of myself. I let my head drop and find myself staring into Lucy's green eyes.

"Poor fool! It's not like I didn't warn you!"

"You'll see who's the fool!"

I knock her off balance as her legs straddle mine. I pull her hands, which she instinctively put forward, and gently bring her down with me. I groan as she ends up completely on top of me, but I can't help bursting into laughter when I hear Lucy groan.

"That'll teach you to make fun of me!"

Without warning, her fingers start tickling me, inflicting a torture I hate more than anything. I beg her to stop, but she continues. She only stops when I start running out of breath.

"Apologize."

I can't say a word, mesmerized by the sight in front of me. Her smile, showing all her teeth, captivates me so much. I only realize I've placed my hands on her thighs when her smile suddenly disappears.

"Ona..."

I still can't say anything. Her tousled hair gives her an incredible charm. My heart is about to explode... But everything fades when she moves away to sit on top of me.

"Ona, we can't. I can't. You're my student."

"I'm far from being just your student..."

"I know, Ona," she sighs, running a hand through her hair.

"You feel the same way I do," I murmur in shock.

"No," she shakes her head. "There's no way our relationship can go any further than it already has. I'm risking my job and... I can't. I thought you couldn't either, with your relationship with Feli."

I laugh bitterly. She has no right to use that excuse when I was ready. She feels something too. Otherwise, she wouldn't have reacted the way she has these past few days. Her behavior has changed. She's become more attentive, worried, and... And she was jealous yesterday. She can deny it all she wants, but she was irritated that guy was checking me out.

"That's the best excuse you could come up with?" I ask coldly.

"Ona..." she sighs.

"If you didn't feel anything like you claim, you wouldn't have reacted so excessively with the salesman. You also wouldn't have let me cuddle you when we got back from the mall, or sleep with you last night, or kiss my neck. We like each other. What's wrong with that?"

"There's nothing wrong with it. I-I just can't. It's beyond my strength, and I thought it was the same for you. I've just crossed the line these past few weeks. I shouldn't have opened up to you so much. It just complicated things. I should have stayed professional until the end."

I think I would have preferred if she had no feelings rather than reject me for some unknown reason. My world of happiness just collapsed in a fraction of a second. What else was I expecting anyway? I knew she wouldn't want me. Who would, anyway? I just didn't expect it to hurt this much. It makes me realize how attached I've become to her and the extent of my feelings.

"We should head back," I murmur.

"Ona..." she says sadly.

I stop her from saying anything else by pushing her off me, a gesture that feels far too easy. She doesn't even resist. I clumsily get up, too disturbed by what just happened. I retrace our steps without bothering to wait for her or even glance at her.

Saturday, January 16th; 10:00 PM - The United.

We've been at the bar for a good hour. The same people as last time are here. I'm impressed by how Mapi has managed to fit in. She's always had an easier time with social situations than I have. Everyone's having fun around the pool table while I stay back with my glass of iced tea. Mapi and Ingrid are crushing Jenni and Mary. It seems like this afternoon strengthened their relationship, as they're now teasing each other. I glance over at the other girls who are mocking them, then end on Lucy, who has stayed at our table. It seems she's met an old acquaintance, but I doubt it's just anyone, given how the girl is eyeing her up. No one seems bothered that she's off on her own. She doesn't seem bothered by it either. The girl keeps touching her arm and laughing at whatever she's saying. I feel desperate watching them like this, boiling inside. I'm incapable of doing anything. Lucy shut me down. She doesn't want me, and she's continuing to make that clear right now. And to think I had just acknowledged my feelings for her. Maybe it's not so bad that I know now. Maybe I can pull back my feelings, but I doubt it. Not long ago, I wasn't even ready to have a new relationship, and now, it's the first time I’ve felt this much jealousy. I sigh and look away, taking a sip of my drink. The only thing left for me to do is to put up barriers. That's what I did this afternoon. We haven't spoken since our confessions. I have to suppress my emotions. It's for the best for everyone. I smile at Mapi as she approaches me with a huge grin.

- "Did you see my crushing victory?!"

- "Oh... Yeah, I saw it," I replied. "Crushing, as always!"

I try to appear normal, but given the scrutinizing look she's giving me, I guess I failed miserably. She tilts her head slightly before sighing.

- "I'm going out for a smoke. You coming with me?"

- "Uh, yeah, if you want. I thought you quit?"

- "I did, but one every now and then never hurt anyone. Come on, hermana, it'll do you good to get some fresh air."

I smile weakly as she drapes her arm over my shoulders. Unfortunately, we have to pass by our table to grab our jackets. I try not to meet the eyes of the two people there, but it's really difficult. Especially when I end up locking eyes with Lucy's furrowed brow. Or should I say, my supervisor's.

- "Where are you going?"

- "Getting some air," Mapi replies. "We'll be back."

I quickly turn on my heels to follow Mapi outside. We sit on one of the benches against the bar's facade. I fix my gaze on a spot on the road where a few cars are passing while Mapi lights her cigarette. I catch a glimpse of the smoke escaping her mouth before she offers me the cigarette. I hesitate for a moment. I used to smoke, but I quit at the same time as I stopped doing drugs. She rolls her eyes and insists, bringing the cigarette directly to my lips.

- "Tonight you can. I think you need it."

The temptation is too strong. I take the cigarette between my fingers and take a deep drag, closing my eyes. It's like riding a bike, you never forget. I exhale the smoke, savoring it as much as possible. When I open my eyes, I see my best friend smiling broadly. I take another drag before handing it back to her and resting my head on her shoulder.

- "Is it Lucy?" she asks, getting straight to the point. "I noticed you haven't spoken since you got here."

- "She shut me down, Maps. She figured out how I felt, and she shut me down."

- "Oh..."

- "I felt ready, damn it. Why does she feel the need to ruin everything?"

- "Do you think she feels the same?"

- "I thought so, but with her rejection, I don't know anymore. Why would she want me anyway? I'm just a troubled girl. I've never understood why she was so interested in me. Maybe it's just because I remind her of her ex, and she thought she could save me, unlike her."

- "Her ex?" she frowns.

I sigh heavily, taking another drag from the cigarette she offers me again. I haven't talked about this story to Mapi or anyone else, for that matter. Lucy's past is none of their business, but now that I remember, it's totally understandable.

- "Forget it," I mumble. "I just don't know what to believe anymore..."

- "What are you going to do...?"

- "Pull away, I guess."

- "Ona..."

- "What?" I reply coldly. "What else do you want me to do? Huh?! She doesn't want me. I'm not going to force her! One thing is for sure, I'm not going to feel bad for nothing."

- "Fight for her... I'm sure she's worth it. She cares about you, it's obvious. You finally admitted you like her, and I've never seen you so attached to someone. When you used to go back to Barcelona, you barely talked to me about the friends you made here. You talked about her..."

- "No, that's out of the question. If she wanted me, she wouldn't have shut me down the first time. It was too good to be true anyway. I trusted the wrong person again. The only thing to do to minimize the damage is to pull away before I get too hurt."

- "You're so stubborn..." she sighs. "There has to be an explanation for all this."

- "There isn't always, Mapi. Even if there is one, I don't want to know it."

I take the cigarette from her again. The nicotine's calming effect settles into my system. I had forgotten how good it could feel. I frown when the cigarette is abruptly taken away before I can take a second drag.

- "Hey, what are you doing?"

My first reflex is to look at Mapi, but I quickly realize it's not her. I look up to see Lucy standing in front of us, with a stern look that would have definitely affected me in other circumstances.

- "Give it back."

- "No way."

- "What does it matter to you if I smoke?" I growl. "Give me back that cigarette!"

- "I said no."

She's daring me to take it back, but I'm not going to play her game over a stupid cigarette. I hold her gaze for a moment before closing my eyes and shaking my head. So she doesn't want me, but she keeps bothering me about what I do. It doesn't make any sense. I stand up and deliberately bump her shoulder as I head back into the bar. Her sigh behind me doesn't stop me. I'm going to handle this my way, whether she likes it or not. She's not going to be pleased with how I change my behavior towards her. I drop my jacket at the table and join Lucy's friends who are still gathered around the pool table. They invite me right away to start a new game, which I accept without hesitation. I team up with Aitana against Jenni and Ingrid. I don't know if it's a fair match, but Aitana seems confident. We start the game as Mapi and Lucy return. I ignore them and focus only on the game we've started. Time flies by with one, two, then a third game to break the tie. I try to laugh at Aitana's jokes, but I admit I'm forcing it a bit. She tried to get closer to help me with my shots. I wasn't thrilled by the contact at first, but I eventually let her do it. It's finally midnight when Lucy suggests we head home. She invited Ingrid to stay over again. This doesn't sit well with me, as I imagine she'll be sleeping with Mapi. Mapi also abandons me for the ride home. She whispered that I should take the opportunity to talk to Lucy, advice I didn't follow. Our drive back was silent. Lucy tried to start a conversation once or twice, but I didn't respond. We arrive at her apartment in a tense atmosphere. The girls quickly retreat to their room, sensing the tension between us. I sigh in frustration, fully understanding what Mapi is trying to do. She wants me to change my mind, but it's not going to happen!

- "Do you have a blanket?" I finally ask.

- "A blanket?" Lucy repeats, puzzled. "Why?"

- "I'm sleeping on the couch."

- "Ona..." she tries, tilting her head slightly.

- "Yes or no?" I question her more coldly. "Either way, I'm staying here."

She looks at me for a moment before sighing. No, sweetheart, I'm not changing my mind. I watch as she lifts the couch cushion to pull out a duvet and two pillows. She hands them to me while I turn the couch into a bed. Well, at least I won't have to worry about a bad night's sleep.

- "Thank you."

- "Good night..."

She murmurs the words so softly I barely hear them before she disappears down the hallway. She returns a moment later with my pajamas. I head to the bathroom to change and brush my teeth before returning to the living room. I close the doors behind me for some privacy and make sure the curtains are drawn so I can sleep in tomorrow morning. Once I'm ready, I place both pillows on one side and wrap myself in the thick duvet with a sigh of relief. It's definitely not as good as being in Lucy's arms, but I'll have to get used to it.

Sunday, January 17th; 2:50 AM - Lucy's Living Room.

I clutch the duvet as tightly as I can to muffle my sobs. I try to calm down, but it's no use. At least I haven't been loud enough to wake up the whole apartment. No one has come to check on me, even though I've been like this for about ten minutes. I don't even dare get up to grab a tissue or a glass of water. I'm too afraid of waking someone. I freeze and hold my breath when I hear the double doors open. I slowly lower my head, clutching the duvet as tightly as possible to make it look like I'm still asleep.

- "I know you're not asleep."

I tense up at the sound of Lucy's voice. She slips under the blanket I haven't let go of. I try to push myself further against the backrest when I feel her behind me. I don't want to feel her against me, but her arm pulls me back while taking hold of my hand. I instinctively pull it away.

- "Take it."

I bite my lip, opening my eyes to see she's brought me a pack of tissues. I take it timidly, thanking her in a voice even I can barely hear. I immediately use a tissue. Meanwhile, she firmly keeps her arm wrapped around my waist. I'd be lying if I said it didn't have an effect on me... I hate her so much for making me feel this way.

- "This is the last time we're sleeping together," I murmur.

- "Go back to sleep," she whispers in response.

She won't be able to change my mind on this. I fully intend to keep this promise. I'll even go to Jaha and ask to move back into my dorm on Monday if I have to. In the meantime, I take advantage of her arms and warmth one last time to calm down from the nightmare. My breathing returns to a regular rhythm, and fatigue finally gets the better of me.

[doughyk]

ＳＴＥＰ ＯＮ ＭＥ- dove (written)

You honestly didn’t think that hyuck would say yes to the question of coming back to your apartment. Waiting for him to finish packing up, your mind ponders at the idea of him being in your living space, and actually being alone and not being in the library.

“Are you ready to go?” hyuck says putting on his backpack, softly smiling at you.

“As ready as I’ll ever be” you hummed while leading the way out the library.

Greeted by the cool evening air as the season transitions from summer to fall, you both begin to walk side by side letting the awkwardness fill the air.

“soooo what else is new?” dragging out your words, breaking the silence.

“You know the usual, the frat is going well and me and mark made up”

“oh yea, you and mark. I’m still mad at that by the way” lightly laughing at your own words

“I thought we moved past this, I have apologized to both of the park siblings” haechan groaning as the topic of past events comes up.

slowing down as you come up to your space that you share with your little brother but he is nowhere to be seen. Quickly grabbing your keys from your backpack, you feel something on your left foot. Looking down ,it was another shoe.

“hyuck i think you’re stepping on me” gently pushing him to get him off your foot.

“maybe if you moved over that wouldn’t have happened” hyuck says in a joking manner, also lightly pushing you.

Pushing the door open hyuck couldn’t help but to notice the clean state matter of the apartment, almost freakishly clean. Noting the small hint of vanilla as it coats his nostrils.

Following your lead, he takes off his shoes and hangs up his backpack on the coatrack that seemed to be cluttered with jisungs hoodies.

“ are you hungry or something? We have plenty of food in the fridge as soojin said i needed real food” not looking him in the eyes as you ramble about your friend

being so lost in the thought of you, he did not comprehend what you said. All he heard was “blah blah blah” as a pretty girl stands in front of him.

“hyuck” the loudness of your voice wakes him up out of his dream like state.

“Oh no im not hungry maybe later we can order something, but i heard you got some soju” he says immediately making himself comfortable on the couch and putting on Regular show ( your minds are connected)

“so you only came to drink all my alcohol wow??” you say grabbing the strawberry flavored soju from the fridge and two shot glasses that you and jisung frequently use. Placing them down in front of hyuck.

“I say we finish all these bottles and order some food” hyuck grabbing a bottle and pouring shots into the both of your glasses.

You giggle as you both click your glasses and shoot the shot, immediately feeling warm on your face.

A few hours seem to go by , different foods scrambled across the small coffee table along with all the soju bottles that are now empty dry.

Moving your head to look at haechan, his blushed face was sight for sore eyes. You couldn’t help but to stare.

“take a picture it would last longer” hyuck says as he slurs his words, quickly moving his head to also stare at you.

“ You know y/n I find you so pretty like a dove, I can’t help but to stare at you when we are studying. I also can’t stand when you’re mad at me or when you’re with someone else that isn’t me or jisung. Maybe that’s why I flipped out when you went out with mark” hyucks suddenly says still looking at you with adoration in his eyes.

“this seems like a confession lee. Drunk talks are true thoughts you know?” hoping that what he is saying is true.

“ Call it whatever it is, maybe it’s the alcohol talking but all I know is that you’re the only one that I have my eyes for” grabbing your hand and kissing it ever so lightly.

“Yeah it’s definitely the alcohol talking. Hyuck it’s pretty late, I’ll call mark to come pick you up” gently pulling your away and checking the time, it’s 1:27 AM.

“ no let me just sleep here, i like being around you” hyuck grumbles as he gets closer to you, leaning on your shoulder. Deciding on not to call mark as it was already late at night

pulling haechan up the best you can and taking him up to your room. Stumbling up the stairs and knocking down pictures that were on walls, successfully making it to your bed you plop the brown headed boy down on your soft duvet. Pulling the blanket up to his chest, he seems like he’s out like a light. Seems like it right?

“ y/n you do know that I like you? It seems pretty obvious” and with that hyuck is passed out on your bed , probably won’t remember anything in the morning.

𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁

@haechansbbg @amrqxz @byeonwooseokabs @222brainrot @anglswon @chenlesfavorite @nanaxwi @daegalfangirl @yewshi @starfilledgaze @toroufriteh @sunflowerhae @injunnie-lemon @flaminghotyourmom @cyjzzl @cyberkdreamland @stqrgr7 @nctrawberries @nneteyamss @manooffline @sunghoonsgfreal @zolpidream (can’t tag you😕)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬- profanity, content of alcohol usage ( characters are legal age 21), some “sexual” jokes, jokes about death, jokingly death threats,vaping

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕤 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖- quite a long chapter!! IM SEEING THE DREAMIES IN SEPTEMBER RAHHHH so excited. Also I start college Monday so chapters will be slowed down😕

[wonderl3ss]

pairing: adam stanheight x fem!reader

warnings: SMUT! MINORS DNI. praise, pet names, unprotected, v sweet n vanilla tbh.

a/n: some smut as an apology for being ia for a year n a half lol. requests r open, pls read rules!! apologies if its short n a lil messy im new to writin this stuff. not proof-read

‘i miss you, can you come over?’

adams phone pinged, the message from you lighting up the screen and turning the phone on. it wasn’t unusual for you to message him at the most random times asking for him to come over, it had happened too many times to count.

being friends for so long, you knew each other inside out by this point. you claimed you were only best friends, but everyone could see that there were deeper feelings involved, yet neither of you acted on them. the fear of ruining your friendship was the only thing stopping you.

you had met him one night at a high school party after being introduced to him by a mutual friend. from that moment on there was rarely a day you two spent away from each other. you had truly just started out as good friends, it wasn’t until you both hit your 20s that you realised there was something more.

for the past year or so, you had found yourself thinking about him a lot more often, not just in a more romantic context, but sexually too.

countless nights you had stayed awake with adam being the only thing on your mind; imagining it was his fingers inside of you instead of your own. imagining his lips were travelling all over your body, leaving marks on your most sensitive spots. imagining he was yours, and you were his.

you needed him so bad, in more ways than one. you needed him to hold you, kiss you, touch you, talk to you. not as your friend, but as your lover.

adam didn’t even bother to text back, he instantly got into his car and started driving to yours. admittedly, he had been missing you too, and it wasn’t just you who held those feelings, he felt the exact same way.

he too had spent countless nights with his hand wrapped around his cock, imagining it was your hand instead of his. wishing instead of his hand, he was inside you. filling you up so good, letting you know you’re only his.

neither did he knock on your door when he reached your place; he didn’t need to. you two we’re together so often that anyone would assume you already lived together.

you greeted him by pulling him into a tight hug the second he walked through the door. it startled him ever so slightly as he wasn’t expecting it, but he melted into the hug just as quick. he thought he could sense the faint smell of alcohol on you.

“have you been drinking?” he pulled away to look you in the eyes.

“only a little. i had like, one beer,” you looked back and gestured to the empty bottle on your kitchen counter behind you. “do you want one?”

adam stepped further in, closing the door behind him before answering, “sure, why not.”

you walked over to the refrigerator and took out two beers, one for adam, and another for yourself. turning back around, you handed the bottle to him and spoke, “there’s more in there if you want another after that.”

he only nodded in response before opening the bottle and instantly taking a swig.

-

staring at eachother for no longer than 3 seconds, the alcohol in your system gave you the courage to do something you had wanted for so long. something you had spent many nights dreaming of.

grabbing ahold of both his cheeks, you pulled him closer until both your lips smashed together. the sudden movement caused adam to not kiss back for just a split second, but once he realised what was happening, he wasted no time in returning the gesture.

the feeling in your stomach was a feeling you had been long earning for; those butterflies that seemed to flutter around in your stomach every time you were with him were going crazy in this moment. it’s as if they were also waiting for this.

adams hands now rested on your waist, his touch was warm — hot, even. it made your core feel hot too, as if the butterflies were now burning and being replaced by something else. what that was, you couldn’t focus on enough to figure out. all you could focus on was adams lips on yours.

you finally pulled apart, admittedly not wanting to. adam was the first one to open his eyes, with yours following shortly after. the small smile on your face widened when you began to laugh ever so slightly from the hot feeling on your cheeks and in your stomach.

“care to explain what that was for?” he spoke, his voice sounding angelic, like something you’d never heard before — yet you had, many times. maybe it was the adrenaline and alcohol, but his voice made the heat you felt all over just that little bit hotter.

you shook your head, digging deep in your brain to find the right words. “you just looked so.. i don’t know.. enticing, i couldn’t help myself… maybe the alcohol is partially to blame.” you were completely and utterly smitten with this man.

adam just smirked before pulling you back in for another kiss. this time, he grabbed hold of your hips and pulled you onto him so you were straddling his lap. feeling the slight tent in his jeans made your core tingle.

he obviously wanted you just as bad as you wanted him.

feeling adams tongue enter your mouth, entwining with your own, you took this as a chance to grind down on his clothed cock. the small groan this elicited from him caused your core to heat up even more — if that was even possible. you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second.

as adam broke the kiss, you pouted slightly, already missing his lips. this pout soon disappeared as adam spoke, “are you okay with this?” he wanted to make sure this wasn’t going to be something you’d regret in the morning.

you hummed and nodded in response, you wanted to waste no time in speaking, only wanting him to kiss you again.

“i want to hear you say it,” he looked you in the eyes, his fingers playing with the hem of your t-shirt.

there was something about the way he said it that made a switch in you flip; wanting this more than ever now.

“yes, adam. please.” you didn’t mean for it to sound like you were begging, but deep down you really were. begging for him to just touch you already; begging to feel him inside you.

satisfied with your answer, he began to lift your t-shirt over your head. you lifted your arms to make it easier for him to pull it up and off. you did the same with his t-shirt too before throwing them both on the floor, not bothering to look where.

“god, you’re so beautiful.” adam breathed out, taking in every inch of your topless body. of course, he had seen you in bikinis and whatnot before, but this was different. this time it was intimate.

you subconsciously tried to wrap your arms around yourself in an attempt to cover up, feeling embarrassed at the sudden compliment. adam didn’t let you though. he gently grabbed your wrists and placed your arms down by your sides.

attempting to take the attention off yourself, you kissed him again while reaching down to undo his belt, ushering him to take his jeans off.

you lifted yourself off his lap ever so slightly to allow him room to take them off, freeing his cock from the suffocating fabric, now only hiding behind one barrier — his underwear.

he then helped you in unbuttoning and pulling off your own jeans, leaving you both in your underwear. the thin fabric was doing nothing in hiding the obvious wetness he had caused to pool in your panties.

you sat back down on his lap, the head of his cock lightly rubbing against your clit, causing your breath to hitch in your throat at the sensation that ran through you.

“adam… please, i need you,” you begged, afraid you would explode if you waited any longer. you had never needed someone as bad as you need adam right now, and honestly, it was painful.

“oh, really?” adam obliged, taking his middle finger and pressing it against your clit, teasing you just a little longer — he enjoyed hearing you beg, enjoyed knowing it was him, and only him, that was making you so so needy.

the slight, quiet moan that you let out at his touch only made him more eager. he began to make circular motions on your clit, adding a little more pressure. you let out another moan and rested your head in the space between his shoulder and neck; all the teasing and longing for this moment, had made you so incredibly sensitive.

you wanted him inside you, now. no, you needed him inside you.

you decided to take initiative by removing his finger and gesturing to his boxers, hoping he'd get the hint that you wanted him to remove them. thankfully, he understood. after he had removed his underwear, he helped you in removing your own, now leaving the both of you completely naked.

you rested your hands on his shoulders, and his on your hips as he lined himself up with your entrance, your slick and his few drops of precum mixing together.

"fuck." he groaned out as he finally pushed into you, the words were spoken so lowly you could feel the vibrations from his throat travel toward where your hands rested on his shoulders.

his fingers pressed harder into your hips as he began to take control and slowly guide you further down his cock before lifting you up once again, allowing you to adjust to his size and find a pace you were comfortable with.

"you okay?" he asked, making eye contact with you. his eyes were glossed over, lids heavy and ever so slightly closed.

"yeah," you breathed out, biting your lip.

"you're doing so good." he felt you tighten around him as these words of praise fell from his lips. he smirked to himself before pulling you into another kiss.

the room was then filled with nothing but the vulgar sounds of quiet squelching and skin slapping against skin as you bounced on his cock, both of your juices mixing together. his hands moved to cup your ass, helping to take some strain off your thighs and make it easier for you.

his lips travelled to your neck, kissing and sucking on the spot right by your jugular, marking you as his, because after this there was no way he was going to let you get away.

it was as if he knew this was a sensitive spot of yours, because the feeling of his lips and the wetness of his tongue pressing against your neck caused you to let out a whine and tighten around him once more.

once he finally felt satisfied there was going to be a mark there, he pulled away, his mouth making a pop sound and leaving a string of saliva behind.

his middle finger then returned to your clit, rubbing circles on it to push you closer to your climax, because he knew there was no way he was going to last much longer, not with the way you feel around him. so warm, so wet, so tight, you fit around him so perfectly. it was as if you had both been crafted so precisely to fit together like two puzzle pieces. you were perfect.

"adam... fuck. im so close," you managed to speak out, feeling that familiar sensation building up in your core.

"cum for me, baby. you're doing so good, c'mon." the pet name was just the cherry on top of all the praise. you sloppily kissed him as you felt the high of your orgasm wash over you.

adam wasn't far behind you, pulling out just in time to let his cum spill out onto your stomach and around his own thighs as you rested your head on his shoulder to catch your breath.

he sat you next to him before standing up and walking into your bathroom to grab a towel, and run a bath for the both of you to relax and clean yourselves off.

he returned back into the living room and you noticed he had already wiped himself off in the bathroom. he walked over to you and cleaned you up with said towel. when he was satisfied he had wiped most of it up, he kissed your forehead and dragged you into the bathroom to pop you into the tub.

he sat you in between his legs, softly kissing your neck as you closed your eyes, revelling in the warmth of the water and fondness you held toward the man behind you. you let out a sigh of contentment before speaking up, "adam?"

"yes, baby?" he replied, the petname causing you to let out a little giggle, those nervous butterflies returning once again.

"what are... we now?" you asked, turning around to face him, hoping he'd reply with what you had been waiting years to hear.

"i think we both know what we are," one more kiss to your forehead, "i ain't lettin' you go anywhere after that,"

you let out another sigh, one of relief this time, "god, i love you," you returned the kiss, on his lips this time before turning back around and laying against adam, him sliding his hands around your waist.

"i know, baby. i love you, too."

"i like when you call me that."