#she then threatened to throw me out of the car and have me walk home despite the fact that it’s

[lovelyisadora]

oh I am going to actually kill my mother

[wosoluver]

Happier than ever Part I

Kika Nazareth x reader, Barça Femeni x reader, Katie McCabe x ex-girlfriend!reader

Other players masterlist

-> Bilie Eilish x woso prompts

is paired up with this social media!au

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

You made me hate this city.

Don't say it isn't fair

You clearly weren't aware that you made me miserable

You had woken up by your phone being swarmed by notifications of accounts tagging you in videos everywhere.

Worried that something bad had happened, you quickly went to check it.

By your own mistake, you had ended up seeing the video of your ex, having a good laugh about her 'last relationship'. a.k.a you.

It's like she was clueless of how guilty she was. You hadn't tried to blame her either. You ended things, and spared yourself from the chaotic situation that conversation would have entailed.

You call me again, drunk in your Benz

Driving home under the influence

You scared me to death, but I'm wasting my breath

'Cause you only listen to your fucking friends

flashback

"Katie, call me when you get this, please. Or just send me a text or something. Let me know if you're coming home." you said sadly into the phone. Your eyes red from the tears they shed.

You two had gotten into an argument when you said you were choosing to stay in for the night.

She exploded on you.

"You never want to do anything!" - "We clearly aren't compatible!" - "I don't even know why we're together!"

Her words replayed at the back of your mind, but suddenly you're were distracted by the sound of your ringtone. And you picked up immediately.

"Hey don't worry-fuck" and you heard the loud sound of car horns, at the other end of the line.

"What's going on!?"

"I'm on my way home okay? Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Wait, are you drunk driving again?"

"Oh, save it! I just had a few drinks. We can talk when I get there-"

By the end of her sentence, you had hung up. Sat on the couch, you were desperately crying into your own hands.

The feeling that it was time to do what you had been avoiding for a while now, sunk in.

You decided to go for a shower, it would help calm you down, a little. When you walked back in the room, Katie was laying spread out on the bed.

"Where were you?" you let out a shaky breath, tears threatening to start falling once again.

"Relax, just went out with the girls." her face held a carefree expression, like your feelings were purely over exaggerated.

"You walked out without saying anything."

A big groan left her lips. "Don't start, am already home."

"That is not the problem! And clearly you don't understand that.

Now days, when we have an argument you leave without saying anything. I have no clue if you're okay. I'm lucky if I get a heads up from Kyra or Viv!

And you're risking yourself and others, by getting behind the wheel intoxicated!"

"I'm sorry, yeah?" throwing her hands up in the air. "Let's sleep-"

"No! You aren't sorry." you said getting your pillow from the other side of the bed. "I'm sleeping on the couch."

end of flashback

I don't relate to you, no

'Cause I'd never treat me this shitty

You made me hate this city

You let go of her. It was a pain to still be in the same team.

You just wanted out.

The city you had once fallen in love with, now seemed so bleak.

Your 'friends' were her friends. You couldn't escape it.

Avoiding the conversation on why you two weren't together, was becoming impossible.

Although they knew a bit about their friend's behavior.

You had confined into Laia, the only friend you had from back home.

But didn't bother to talk about with the others.

By now, Katie had given them her own version.

The thing was, you didn't want to make them choose a side. Or become a reason for the team to divided, and out of sync.

You decided to ask for a transfer, and you were lucky, that because of Mariona transferring, you had a ticket to Barcelona.

And I don't talk shit about you on the internet

Never told anyone anything bad

'Cause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything

And all that you did was make me fucking sad

You were willing to keep in how you felt and the situations that happened.

Believing that you two were simply opposites and that's why it hadn't worked out.

You wanted to keep a somewhat neutral memory of her.

It had been almost two months since moving here, but you hadn't shared anything on the matter.

You brushed your teeth slower than usual.

Bracing yourself for any questions that came up.

You look at your own reflection in the mirror. "You can do this".

You're better now. You're back to Spain, you have a team that has taken you in like one of their own, friends.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"Bon dia." you said walking into the changing room. Only some of the girls had already arrived.

"Y/n! Good morning." said Kika, with her usual big smile on. She sat next to you. As new players, you ended up with lockers next to each others.

You gave her a tight lip smile.

"What's wrong?" her face twisted in confusion.

Along with her and Mapi, you were always cheery in the mornings.

"Nothing, just a little under the weather."

"Is that why you didn't answer my texts?"

"Sorry, I think it's on the 'don't disturb mode'. What was it about?"

"If you're still up to hang out after training? There's this cafe that I wanna go to."

Right there you let out a breath you held without noticing. She probably had no idea of what was going on online.

"Yeah,"

"Good morning, nena." said Alexia grabbing your attention.

"Ale, I'm twenty four." you reminded her, but she had already made it a habit.

Despite being almost in your mid twenties, the older woman had noted to herself from the first day, your bright and sweet nature. And from then on, had taken you under her wing.

"No use, she's still going to call you that." said Mapi.

"Sometimes, she still calls me 'cucumber girl'." Patri joined in. "I hate it."

You realized, you stressed over nothing. Maybe outside of the Arsenal fan bubble, this wasn't relevant at all. And although that was true, there was another reason for it.

Without your knowledge, Alexia had instructed everyone, that no one was to bring that subject up.

Laia had made sure to pass the message on.

You were there to start over, and they would make sure to support you on it.

Barça was your family now.

After training you decided to check your phone. See if things had died out a bit. You were being observed closely, without your knowledge.

"Don't beat yourself up about it, huh? She clearly didn't deserve you." said Ona, with a kind smile.

She unlike everyone else here, had seen from up close, how problematic the Irish player could be.

You gave her a silent nod, although you were thankful for her words.

"Ready to go?" Kika said, closing her locker and grabbing her keys.

"Yeah, let me bid the girls goodbye."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

"So, how are you liking Barcelona?" you asked her sipping on your coffee.

"It's a lot like Portugal. How about you?"

"It's a lot like Sevilla."

"You don't say!" teasing you sarcastically. "I was talking about London."

"First of all, I'm never going to miss that damn weather." laughing a bit. "Secondly, I'm better off as you may know."

"What?"

"You know, the ex situation." but she looked genuinely confused.

"Does that have anything to do with Alexia saying we weren't allowed to ask you a lot of questions about Arsenal?"

You were the one surprised now. "She did that?"

"Don't tell her I said anything! I really want to be friends with her." she got a laugh out of you, as per usual. "She cares about you, we all do."

"It was a relief, not being the talk of the town, but I'm fine about it."

Her eyes were set on you questionably.

"Right, let me fill you in..."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

So don't waste the time I don't have

And don't try to make me feel bad

Three days later, the host of a female football centered podcast, got in contact, to ask if I would like to come on. I was unsure if I should.

"What do you guys think?"

"Fuck being the bigger person. Say your peace." said Kika.

"If she didn't want this to be a thing, she should have kept her mouth shut." Ale cut in, sounding very protective.

"Agreed." spoke Ingrid, Mapi nodding along with her girlfriend.

but after they had cheered you onto going, you made up your mind.

It be good for you and your fresh start in the spanish league, and what would likely be the height of your career.

You ruined everything good

Always said you were misunderstood

Made all my moments your own

Did you feel bad throwing that out there? A bit.

You could never understand, how people can be a shit person and while being unaware of their shitty behavior.

She was wrong to assume you would keep your head down again.

Just fucking leave time alone.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

I know this probably goes without saying, but this is pure fiction and no hate to Katie, I like her, but I needed a player to be the ex.

This will have a part 2 of Kika and reader.

I know I had other ones to get done, but I couldn't help doing this one!

Like & share pls!

[augustvandyne]

Lucy Chen x reader

Staff outing and they end up going home together and rushing to work the next day and people start asking questions and Angela and Tim end up figuring it out when reader and Lucy leave work together at the end of the day

nothing

When the alarm clock woke both of you up this morning, your eyes burnt from lack of sleep and your neck was aching from the position you slept in last night.

Last night was a last second outing that John of all people suggested, but it was a much needed break.

So much so that even Tim accepted the invitation.

Everyone had a good time and at the end of the night, Lucy offered to ‘drive you home’ because you’d left your car at the station, riding over to the bar with her.

But the truth was you and Lucy had been dating for some time and hadn’t spent the night together yet. Lucy suggested the two of you should spend the night together. Nothing sexual, but she wanted to sleep in the same bed as you, because as stupid as it sounded, she just wanted to hold you after the week you’ve all had.

She reaches over you to shut the alarm off, settling herself on top of you.

“Hi,” Lucy looks down nervously, an anxious smile on her lips.

“Hi,” You reach up and twirl a few strands of her hair between your fingers. “You’re cute when you wake up.”

“Stop,” Lucy shakes her head and falls back into her spot in bed.

“Come back,” You chuckle and roll over so you’re on top of her.

She looks into your eyes and leans up to put a soft kiss on your lips.

You make a face when her lips leave yours and she puts her hand over her mouth.

“Oh,” She speaks through her fingers. “I have really bad morning breath. I’m so sorry.”

She begins to laugh and you shake your head, removing her hand from her lips to you can get another kiss.

“I don’t care,” You say as you kiss her again. “I just wanted another kiss.”

“That can be arranged,” Lucy moves her hand to snake around your neck to pull you closer when her second alarm goes off.

She groans softly and reaches over to turn the alarm off again.

“Just.. just five more minutes,” Lucy moves back over and pulls your face back to hers.

“Lucy Chen, are you asking for a five minute make out like teenagers?”

“Maybe,” She shrugged, the newfound confidence glowing on her skin.

“I’m down,” You smile and give a soft nip at her lip.

“I cannot believe we are late,” Lucy throws her head back angrily as she swings the door open to the station.

“Luce,” You say in a soft voice, pulling her aside in the lobby. “It’s okay, alright?”

“Well— wha—“

“Shh,” You press a finger to her lips. “We will figure it out, okay? I promise.”

She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, “Okay.”

Lucy opens her eyes and smiles nervously. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

“What? You didn’t get enough this morning?” You wink and walk through to the main section of the station, making your way towards the locker room.

“Boot!” You suddenly stop at Angela’s words. “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting.”

“Um..” You look around and move your bag up on your arm to buy time. “Well Lucy drove me to the bar last night and then home and my car was still here. And you see—“

“I didn’t ask for your whole life story. Just say you left your car and Lucy had to go out of her way to get you,” Angela puts her hand up. “Get changed and hurry. We’re running a high stakes operation today, and you should’ve been in an hour ago.”

“Yes ma’am,” You hurry off and only then does she notice that you’re wearing the same shirt from last night.

You’re all but finished changing when Lucy finally comes through the doors.

“What took you so long?” You ask, taking extra time to pull your shoes on.

“Tim,” She shakes her head, opening her locker and pulling clothes on. “He chewed me out in front of the whole station? Can you believe it? Actually, don’t answer that because we both believe it. I’ve never been late the whole time I’ve worked here — unless it was life threatening — and the one time I accidentally do he has something to say. God, I can’t believe we were late. And they are out there gossiping, and just—“

“Lucy, baby,” You stand and pull her in by her open uniform top, placing another kiss on her lips. “I promise you, it’s going to be okay.”

“Okay,” She nods and presses her lips onto yours again. “We’ll be okay.”

“Chen! L/n! Let’s go!” Angela’s voice booms from the door and you finish putting your shoe on.

“I’ll see you out there my love,” You place a rushed kiss onto her cheek and are out the door in a second.

“Took you long enough,” Angela says, lurking by the door.

She squints at you and you put a hand on your chest from her scaring you.

“Oh my— don’t do that,” You furrow your brows together. “What is that face for?”

“Nothing,” She tilts her lips down and shakes her head.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing,” It’s your turn to squint now.

Lucy stumbles out of the locker room, still buttoning up her shirt.

“What are you guys standing out here for?”

“Nothing,” Angela continues shaking her head, looking between the two of you. She leaves the two of you standing with a chuckle.

She walks back over to Tim and the two of them turn away to talk while you and Lucy share a look.

“Let’s go,” Tim turns around after a second. “Not you, Chen. I want L/n with me today.”

“Good job today, boot,” Tim says as the two of you exit the shop.

“Thank you, Officer Bradford,” You nod, eager to be praised from another officer other than your TO.

“You know, with being late and everything.”

You roll your eyes once he turns away from you and you walk behind him to return the war bags.

“The paperwork will be waiting on your desk,” Tim stands beside you awkwardly, his lips resting in a straight line as you return the bags and put your body cam back.

“Do you need something?” You ask with a confused face.

“Nope.”

“Okay so what’s wrong?” You move to walk towards the locker room.

“Nothing,” He shakes his head with the same expression Angela had earlier.

“Okay, what is wrong with you guys?” You raise your voice slightly. “You and Lopez. You keep making that face. Am I not allowed to ask Lucy for a ride to work?”

His eyes change at the use of first name and not last name like you normally would.

You huff and walk off, “Leave the paperwork on my desk.”

“Already planned on it.”

You make your way to your locker, and most of the women were also changing at the same time, so you couldn’t get a fix of the craving you wanted. (Kissing Lucy).

You settled on a few secretive looks in her direction, which very much did not go unnoticed by Angela.

You and Lucy finished at the same time, her going a little slower once you came into the locker room make sure you were done at the same time.

Lucy keeps a hold of your bag strap as the two of you exit the station, Angela following close behind.

Tim is standing at the exit — in a darker area, where Lucy and you can’t see him — waiting for Angela.

They both stand together, watching for the two of you to make any moves that indicate you are more than friends.

You hop in the passenger side of Lucy’s car and the two of them share a look.

“They are so together,” Angela stands with her arms crossed over her chest, sticking one hand out.

“Yeah, I hate to admit, but you’re right,” He slaps a twenty in her palm.

[simonrileysfavteacup]

Car Accidents

Paring: Simon "Ghost" Riley x wife!reader

Word count: 600 ish?

Warnings: car accidents, injuries, dad!simon, mom!reader, ambulances

Summary: When your eldest daughter's life is threatened, what will Simon do?

Simon liked James. He treated Emma well. He was polite. He came from a good single mother and he was kind. 

The boy was like him. 

A teenage boy stood at Simon’s door, holding a bouquet of roses in his hand. Emma had run down to answer the door the moment the doorbell rang. Simon had himself leaning against the stairs to make himself seem bigger. Even though he’s huge. 

“James!” Emma throws her arms around him. Simon tenses. You head over to the door, greeting the young boy.

That's when Simon realises the flowers in his hands for you, not Emma. He softens. James introduces himself, shaking his hand. Simon smiles, “Nice t’ meet ya. Keep ‘er safe. Be home by 10.”

***

Simon woke to his phone, not on silent, playing his basic ringtone. He groans, praying it didn’t wake you. When he feels your hand shove him, he knows it did. He reaches over, seeing James’ name on his screen. He picks it up, “What do ya want at this time of night?”

“Mr. Riley?”

“Kid, I’ve told ya. ‘S Simon.”

“Umm…I…Emma and I were at the movies and we were on our way to get ice cream, but this drunk driver hit us and totalled my car and Emma’s not waking up and I’m stuck in the car and-”

“Kid, kid, slow down. Where are ya?”

“50th ave…”

“Did ya call 911?”

“Yes…before I called you.”

“Okay, stay there. Try no’ to move. I’ll be there soon.”

“Okay…please hurry…”

Simon hangs up, getting out of bed. Your hand pulls him back into bed. “What happened?”

“Dove and James got into an accident. I’m gone go take care of them,” he presses a kiss to your cheek before heading into the closet. 

“Wait, what? I’m coming with you!”

“No, lovie, you stay here, ‘kay?”

“I”m coming. That’s my daughter too.”

“Lovie…”

“Simon.”

“Fine, get ya clothes on.”

***

Simon pulls over, recognizing one of the cars in the wreck. James’. 

The boy sits leaning against it, his head in his hands. You run over, taking him into your arms. “Are you okay? Where’s Em? Is she okay?”

“She woke up a few minutes ago. The ambulance is checking on her. I’m so sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Riley.”

“Kid, ya got nothin’ to be sorry for,” Simon says, still looking around to spot Emma.

“I shouldn’t have taken her out so late…”

“KId, listen to me, it’s not ya fault.”

“But-”

“It’s not. Now, what ambulance did they take Dove to?”

James points to the one where she is. Simon walks towards the truck while you take James’ hand. “Did you call your mom?”

“No, she’d kill me if she had to leave work for something this dumb.”

“It’s not dumb. You’re hurt.” 

“She won’t come anyways.” 

“He can come home with us. Spend the night with Dove,” Simon interrupts, hearing the conversation you two were having. 

“Yeah, that sounds good,” you smile at Simon. He heads over to Emma, where she holds an icepack to her head. Her eyes spot her father and she lights up, falling towards him and into his arms. 

James stands behind Simon, a guilty look on his face. “Em?”

“Don’t. Don’t you dare,” Emma sighs. “This wasn’t your fault. I’m fine. I promise.” 

Simon caresses her head, holding her tightly against him. “‘ts nobodys faul’. We’re gone go home. Both o’ ya gonna be fine.”

James looks down at his feet. “Thank you, Mr. Ri-Simon…”

Simon smiles internally. 

He won’t ever admit it but he has 3 sons now.

[aettuddae]

business matter — chapter 42.

↳ synopsis: two of the most important kpop companies covet a partnership with a huge global brand, only to be surprised when the deal is extended to both labels. fearing potential sabotage and cynical strategies to secure exclusivity for just one of them, both CEOs resort to desperate measures. in a bid to maintain trust and prevent betrayal before the signing, they come up with a pact: forcing a fake relationship between the leaders of their star girlgroups. if one side attempted to fail the other, they threaten to expose it all to the conservative south korea.

masterlist | prev | next

[written chapter]

a blonde-haired girl wakes up after hearing commotion in her apartment. voices, disguised in whispers, but still loud enough to cause a disturbance. it sounded like two people fighting in the distance. she got up from the bed disoriented, her heart beating rapidly at the thought that something bad was happening to one of her members. with her vision blurred by not having yet gotten used to the tangible world, she roamed around her room. visualizing her acoustic guitar, she wobbled to it and reached out to grab it, trying to shake the sleep from her body along the way.

she opened the door to her room with a rough yank on the handle and hurriedly ran down the hallway, raising the instrument over her shoulder, ready to throw it or use it as a hammer at whoever had barged into her home.

"come in!"

"i don't want to!"

“i told you to take off your shoes and come in!”

“i'm not going to let you see my socks… WHY DOES SHE HAVE A GUITAR!?”

“MINJEONG, PUT THAT DOWN!”

"what's going on!?"

winter dropped the guitar and admired the situation anxiously, swaying from side to side as if at any moment she would have to run away. in front of her was her leader, with her elaborate makeup and elegant wardrobe, barefoot and stressed, pulling on the arm of jang serim, who was in the hallway, clinging to the door frame, refusing to enter, objectively more disheveled than her member. there was a strong aroma of alcohol in the air, and after assimilating what was happening, she understood that it was coming from the guest.

“serim is drunk and she doesn't want to go in.” karina explained with annoyance in her voice, lifting her leg and resting her foot against the wall so she could increase the force with which she was pulling serim into the apartment.

"why?" the youngest took a few steps until she was next to her member, stopping to look at the oldest of the three in confusion.

“it's just,” karina let go of the other party, causing her to fall sitting on the floor. “she says it's not respectful to come in drunk when other people are sleeping here.”

“i am a well-mannered baby.” serim spoke, forming a pout with her lips, but her words were barely understood since they came out in a blur. after that, she lost her balance and fell on her back.

“oh, she's gone.” winter judged.

“she didn't eat anything before drinking." her roommate explained, walking over to the girl who was on the ground.

"she didn't?" the vocalist followed her.

“she didn't, because she wanted to make me upset!” karina complained as she put her hands under serim's arms to lift her up.

"that's true." jang admitted and then began to laugh frantically.

"be quiet." karina ordered, using all of her strength to move her inside while minjeong pulled her legs.

“we had to leave early because the idiot got drunk, so our manager brought us here.” she continued contextualizing as she carried the eldest. “when we were in the car i managed to get her to unlock her phone and i notified her staff, but they will come in an hour, so she has to stay here until then.”

once in the living room, she let go of serim, instructing winter to do the same, letting her fall. the blow and roar woke up the member of heaven, who clumsily stood up, leaving her standing statically with her back to both aespa.

"where am i?" she questioned, lost as she analyzed the place and realized that she didn't know it.

she abruptly turned around, trying to discover the entire room, only to find the girls who had their eyes glued to her. winter couldn't contain her laughter and karina was rubbing her temple with a burdened grimace.

"oh, it's you." serim left the alert position in which she was and her face showed disappointment when she met the dark haired woman. “and giselle!” she regained her energy upon seeing the other person and pointed at winter excitedly.

“i'm winter.” she said simply and laughed covering her mouth.

"please don't rob us!” ningning exclaimed, appearing from behind her friends in her pajamas, throwing various stuffed toys into the air, trying to hurt the criminal who was in her house, but not hitting anyone because she had her eyes closed in fear.

“giselle!” the drunk girl repeated before the arrival of a new individual.

"where?" the youngest opened her eyes to look for the japanese one, finding the disastrous situation. “jimin!” she squealed with displeasure.

“no, i'm serim from heaven.” she introduced herself politely.

“i am jimin." karina corrected her coldly.

“no, you are karina.” she shook her head. “i know because i had to repeat it many times to learn it.”

“why didn't you tell me that serim was here?” the maknae protested, fixing her hair.

“because i shouldn't be here,” the oldest remembered.

"oh no…" vocalized minjeong.

"stay still!" the leader of aespa shouted, going to catch the girl who began to run towards the door.

“she's so funny.” ningning said as she bit her lip and undid the last button on her pajama shirt.

"what is she doing?" jang murmured to karina, who had successfully caught her, staring at the chinese woman, while being held firmly by her waist by yu so that she wouldn't run away again, but this one only looked at her out of the corner of her eye angrily.

"what's going on?" giselle joined the meeting, appearing down the hallway with hiro in her arms.

“giselle!” the guest threw her hands in the air happily. “and the dog i definitely don't hate." she pointed at the animal.

“serim is drunk and she has to wait here for a moment until her manager comes to pick her up." karina repeated. “sorry for waking you up, go back to sleep, i'll take her to my room,” she noticed.

“can she come to my room?” ningning intervened.

“ning!” aeri reproached her.

"alright." serim accepted, trying to walk in her direction.

"get away from my baby." jimin nagged at her, hitting her arm.

"then can i sleep with giselle?" she wondered with a strange hint of innocence.

"serim!" the main rapper amended her.

"cheater..." ning muttered in disbelief.

"stop." karina pretended to start crying while she tried to keep the eldest still.

"why not me?" asked winter offended, as her leader started to drag the guest to her room.

the puppy had decided to change his sleeping partner and entered karina's room following her and serim. once the animal was inside, the resident closed the door. the vocalist stood in the center, looking vacantly around her, her body moving beyond her control due to the alcohol in her system.

hiro walked past her, heading to her bed. with a single jump, he went up and lay down comfortably. he looked warm and happy, so serim was tempted to try it on her behalf, walking there and then plopping down on the mattress.

"sleep and i'll let you know when your manager comes." karina advised seriously, leaning her back against the door.

“i shouldn't fall asleep in your bed." said the oldest, but ironically her eyes closed on their own and her words came out in whispers.

"i'd rather you fall asleep than keep talking."

"you are so mean." she took a big breath of air trying to regain clarity, raising her head a little and resting her weight on her elbows so as not to fall asleep. “it's your own room, are you going to stand there?”

“do you want me to lay with you?” she crossed her arms.

“it's your bed." she made obvious. “and i think we are already committed enough to each other to share it.” she let her head fall against the pillow.

karina looked at her from where she was, taking a moment to think. she began to wander removing all the accessories and makeup that she had on her, finally leaving her earrings on the nightstand and sitting next to her workmate. serim had her eyes closed, but she lifted her eyelids when she felt the weight next to her. she looked at the younger from below, who was focused on watching what her dog was doing. since he was asleep, serim, still intoxicated, realized that she was just trying to avoid eye contact.

“see that we can coexist?” she tried to break the ice.

“didn't i tell you to go to sleep?” she contradicted bitterly.

“you're more irritable than usual." she observed, doing her best to speak properly.

“i have to live with you,” she answered, still not looking at her. “and then when we have an event you get drunk.”

"i don't think is that." she dismissed without getting affected. “you are like this because of your boyfriend.”

“can you not mention it?” she blurted abruptly, quickly turning her head so that she couldn't see her expression, and fixing the position of her body.

“see how is that?” knowing that she was right she laughed, and because of her drunkenness, she couldn't stop it.

“no, i'm sorry, but you're not always right.” she frowned and finally turned to her. "can you stop?" she asked seeing that she wouldn't.

“serim, it's crazy how happy it makes to be right.” she criticized her angrily. “serim!” she held her shoulders with her hands as if she was about to shake her to make her reason, but she only exerted pressure to hoard her attention, intending to make her shut up. the named one connected her eyes with hers and little by little she stopped her fit of laughter. she raised one of her hands and placed it on karina's, which was on her shoulder. keeping the smile on her face, she explored the features of the blackhaired woman with her gaze, who would keep her grip until serim's joy was erased from her face. serim gently squeezed the hand she was touching and accompanied it with an unconscious lip bite.

“i can't believe you, you're horny already.” she quickly pulled away from the older one. "gross."

“you were very close!” she noted merrily. “and i'm not horny, i just have a lot of love to give.”

she let her arms fall spread all over the bed, accidentally resting her right one on the other's lap, making them both look at it expectantly. they remained silent, still. the atmosphere was peculiar, there was a different tension than the one that usually created between them, and it seemed as if one of them made an abrupt movement, it would dissipate. in the dancer's gaze, it was clear that she wanted jang to stop touching her, but nothing in her body language matched that, she did not move to push her away. the vocalist slowly raised her limb, gently bringing it up to the girl's face, to touch her cheek and caress it, gaining her attention, getting her to observe her without any emotion.

“karina,” she called and received a hum. “you know that if you kissed me now i wouldn't remember it tomorrow, right?” with her knuckles she tenderly drew her traits.

“i don't want to kiss you." she stated, still in the same position.

“stop thinking about that guy.” she ran the tip of her thumb over her bottom lip.

“while you ask me to kiss you?” she took the focus off of her. “he is my boyfriend, i can't cheat on him.”

"cheat? but if you're not together and he hasn't spoken to you for two weeks." she let out a giggle full of irony. “and i'm not asking you to kiss me, i'm just saying that if you wanted to i wouldn't stop you.” she leaned on her forearm, slightly separating herself from the mattress.

“we are taking a break." she lowered her head.

“whatever that means.” she took her chin between her fingers and made karina face her.

“serim.”

“if you don't want to, why don't you get away?”

the girl hadn't noticed how she leaned into serim's touch, and how it had drawn her into her personal space. they were at the perfect distance so that they could touch each other just by lowering her head a little, and so that the smell of alcohol the oldest one emanated made her a little dizzy.

serim was right, wasn't she? jongin had disappeared. at first, she didn't believe that he would be so brutal, but who had been her boyfriend for over a year simply asked her for some time and erased himself from her life from one day to the next. and now she didn't know what he was doing, or where their relationship stood.

what does taking a break mean? if he had already cheated on his ex, what could assure her that while they were apart he would not be with other girls? is it okay to want to make him feel bad for leaving her?

if they weren't together as of now, it wouldn't be infidelity, right? serim was probably right. as usual.

karina leaned in, reaching the older girl's lips with hers and trapping them in a kiss. serim moved her grip, sliding her hand down her cheek to her nape, and from there she pulled her closer. the dark haired woman moved closer to the center of the bed, held her opponent's face from both sides and gently pushed her, making her lie down completely again, remaining on top of her.

they were kissing slowly, but intensely. in the end, it was not a loving kiss, but one motivated purely by desire, attraction, and resentment, they did not have to be sweet with each other when they could continue battling as they always did. they pressed against each other and held themselves as close as they could, karina's nails were digging into serim's cheeks, who could only concentrate on maintaining resistance so as not to completely lose control.

until the screen of her phone turned on, and more than it concerned her, it was yu who moved far from her to see where the light was coming from.

“your manager is calling you, he must be downstairs.” she straightened up, sitting properly on the bed and stretching her arm out to reach the device.

“no, he's not.” the senior refused and lifted herself, trapping her face in her touch again to connect their pupils, running her lips from her shoulder to her neck, causing her to close her eyes enjoying the attention, a sign that told her to continue on karina's jaw and cheek, until it reached her mouth another time and they kept going as if the phone wasn't still vibrating.

leaning on the embrace that serim had on her waist, biting her lips while she got lost between them and met her tongue, she convinced herself that she could vent her anger towards jang in this way more often. although she would surely change her mind as soon as it was over. and suddenly she forgot how jongin had treated her. although she would surely remember after serim left.

they were completely immersed in each other, until hiro's growl replaced the silence of the room, forcing them to put an end to it to check what was happening to the dog, who was standing firmly ready to throw a tantrum.

“it seems like someone is jealous..." the drunken one pointed out in a flirtatious tone, making jimin laugh.

perhaps the first time she made her laugh.

“it's okay, don't worry.” the puppy's owner spoke softly to calm him down.

when she made sure that hiro was already appeased, serim took advantage of her grip on karina's torso and hugged her carefully, but also surely, to which she responded by reconnecting their lips, but not for a long time.

serim's scream was possibly heard on the upper and lower floors of the dormitory and woke up all the members again. the girl jumped on her feet over the bed due to the pain and since she was still completely numb she lost her balance and fell to the floor, which made her yell again.

all as a result of the fact that hiro had not really chilled out and as soon as he saw that his guardian was still kissing someone else he couldn't stand the wrath and bit hard the hand that the stranger had on jimin's waist.

“i can't believe i just made out with this loser.” karina talked to herself, covering her face in shame. “i'll cure you and you'll leave, your manager has already waited too long for you.”

(!)

— taglist [CLOSED]: @yoontoonwhs @cwpiqwon @aliceiwk @xen248 @gtfoiydlyj @rinapomu @aeriuchinarga @multiliker @somedaydream @impossiblesharkcashrebel @yjiminswallet @haerinsloverr @yerimbrit @73vyn @dni-unavailable @lovemariana @sewiouslyz @yeetaberry127 @masuowo @yallatalla @aerithykly @chaenniefirst @minfolio @xszn @starrynini05 @hotluvlet @wmnrhot @mineige @lisaswifey @brocoliisscared @fae-the-wanderer

[dollyhao]

loser!ellie x bully!reader

summary: ellie upsets reader and takes her punishment like a champ.

cw: cowgirl, bondage

"els take me to the mall tomorrow?" you say not even looking up from your phone, scrolling through insta. its suppose to sound like a question because ellies trying to teach you that you cant be demanding with everything you say. you ignored her when she first said that to you but you took it into consideration, not doing it so often anymore.

ellie is sitting at the bottom of her bed reading a comic book and rubbing your feet thats in her lap. "uh um, actually i cant. i have.. a test, yup a test to study for." you glance up at her with a quirked brow, her face is red and flushed but she always looks that around you so you shrug. "fine" you say rolling your eyes snatching your foot out her hand.

your not upset frfr, you know how important grades are to ellie, which is why shes always so insistent on trying to help you study.

"im staying here tonight." you say taking your pants off leaving you in a shirt and underwear, crawling under her blanket. ellie hums in approval, and joins you spooning you as you both slept.

the next day, you decided to go to the mall with a friend since ellie was busy. yall stopped at a wing place close to campus and see ellie sitting inside with those other losers, dina and jesse. ellie has never blatantly lied to you like this.

you walk over to her fuming. yea, you know the last time she tried to miss plans with you to hang out with friends you said you would block her, but you threaten to block her all the time and never do.

her back is to you when you hit her with your purse, "wtf-" ellie says turning around looking angry and confuse. her face drops when she sees you obviously upset, she looks super guilty. "your such a bitch ellie. dont fucking talking to me." you turn and leave hearing ellie stumbling and asking you to wait behind you.

you get in your friends car arms crossed frowning, "take me home." "no food?" "i lost my appetite." your friend puts the car in reverse just as ellie comes out the restaurant and yall drive off.

your in your dorm when you hear rapid knocks at your door. you get up to open the door already knowing its ellie. "what" "please let me explain" she says hands clasped together with a pleading look on her face. "i dont wanna hear it williams." you say walking away from the open door.

ellie comes in closing the door behind you, getting on her knees in front of you. "please please forgive me. im so so sorry for lying. w-what can i do so you'll forgive me? ill do anything."

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶ ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

"this isn't fair!" ellie says tears in her eyes. "you said you'd do anything." you say out of breath. your bouncing on her dick with her laying back on your bed hands tied above her head with a pair of your stockings. you refuse to let her touch you or fuck you, basically using her as your own little toy.

"please let me fuck you, i-i can make you feel so so good!" "nope." you say putting two fingers in her mouth so she would be quiet.

you throw your head back leaning over ellie tits all in her face as you keep riding. "fuck ellie." you say taking your spit covered fingers out ellie's mouth rubbing your clit with them.

ellie lets you use her because she feels so so bad for lying to you, she lays still even though it feels like torture. you moan out biting you bottom lip looking down at ellie who looks high, drool dripping out the corner of her mouth.

" ’m close els…" "please cum for me baby." ellie says before catching one of your enticing nipples in her mouth. you fully impale yourself on her dick creaming all over her. you smile down at her rising off her walking over to the bathroom leaving her tied up.

"please tell me you forgive me?"

[oh-starstarstar]

Anything I Can Do For You? | tangerine x reader

18+ post.

WARNING: Dark Content—Kidnapping, Consensual Non Consensual, Being tied up forcefully.

Please proceed with caution.

You're kidnapped. Surely you could bribe the kidnapper with something to be set free, right?

"Now, I'm sure you're... decent, but you're giving me as much trouble as a Diesel. Stop your little tantrum, and get in the damn car," says the man to you, an expression of annoyance on his face.

You, in his grip, keep thrashing about, unwilling to go. "First tell me who sent you!" You yell out, kicking and flailing in his grip.

"Oh my god," he sighs. "We— well, you know what? I am not—" he grunts as you kick him, trying to haul you into the car—"I am not patient enough to deal with you. Tangerine?! Tangerine?!"

The man he's calling—his partner—is currently fighting off two men, while somehow managing to not look overpowered. He probably isn't, you think, looking at his muscles through his shirt. 

He glances back for a split second, then turning again to dodge a punch. "You— fucking hell, Lemon, you can't get her in the damn car?" 

"She's a whole zoo," he says as you keep kicking and screeching and scratching him, trying your best to escape him. "I will throw her if I lose patience,"

But you'd prefer him throwing you. It would gice you a chance to run. The thing is, you ending up here is a consequence of you getting kidnapped by a bunch of men, and then getting saved by these two random men, and—because you have no idea who these two men are—worrying about getting kidnapped again. Eventful week, it has been.

Point is, you know nobody and nothing here. No whereabouts, no 'why' you were kidnapped, no 'who' kidnapped you; nothing. 

As the fight presumably ends, the man with a long hair and a white—well, now drenched in red—shirt walks up to you, looking frustrated. "What's the deal here?" He looks at you with an expression of absolute irritation. 

Lemon only signals with his eyes to you. It's enough, really. You look like you are in a boxing match with the air around you. You are scooped by the other man, who puts you down on the floor, pinning you to the car behind you. 

"Now, listen here, love," he says, his voice threatening and low. The rage in his eyes makes you stop flailing around. "You're going to get into the car quietly, yeah? No more yelling, no more acting like a damn baby. Got it?"

For a moment, you're held captive by his eyes. Jjust in case you're not held captive by him, though, you open your mouth again. "Who sent you? Did you save me to take me home or to a worse—"

He sighs in complete annoyance. He looks at you with absolute frustration in his eyes, pulling you to him, opening the car door behind you and shoving you inside. "Open the door!" You yell out. You try your level best to break the glass, to break the door, but it's no good. 

Lemon throws the keys to him, and he begins driving as you still screech and yell and push in the backseat.

"Candy?" Lemon offers to Tangerine as he drives. 

"Cand— Oh. Good god," he says as he turns and witnesses you still kicking the door, its noise drowned out long ago by Tangerine, who turned up the radio to peacefully drive (though now the noises are slowly catching up to him). You are acting feral—and, really, why shouldn't you? "...Candy?" He offers again, with a more questioning look that borders between 'are you okay?' and 'you are absolutely not okay'.

"Fuckin' hell!" yells Tangerine, halting the car on the side of the road so aggressively that even Lemon's head almost slams against the dashboard. He opens the door on your side, grabbing your jaw and pushing you behind. With his legs on either side, his face right in front of yours, and his eyes flooded with frustration, he says: "Lemon, get the rope and tape."

Just as you open your mouth to protest, his huge hand is on your mouth, his legs digging  into your lower body to keep you from thrashing. "You just don't know when to give up, hm?” he mutters, angrily, hand pressing your head down while the other holds both your hands in one. As Lemon gives him the rope he manhandles you so that you’re on your stomach now, hands pulled to the back. 

“Who sent you? Where the fuck are you taking me?!” you keep yelling out as he tightly binds your hands behind your back, head pressed down onto the seat. You whimper, body twisting and writhing.

“Don’t you care about your safety? Sit still,” he orders calmly, as if you’re just having a normal chat. When he finishes binding your hands and legs, you think it’s over, so you let out a long breath of… relief? Well, not really relief, but at least his heavy self is off of you—but oh, then you see him unlooping his tie, and beginning to tie it around your mouth. “There ya go, darlin’, all pretty and quiet now,” he grunts as he tightens it around your mouth, making you whimper from the pain.

“You coulda’ avoided all of that if you just shut the fuck up, you know?” Lemon says, raising his brow towards you. 

Three days.

Three days you’ve had to stay with them—untied, by the way—at this small house in a secluded area. They’re here waiting for the men who will take you from their hands to whoever is responsible. 

Well, the funny thing is, you’re more comfortable than you are in your usual lifestyle. Enough food, enough silence, and a T.V. to watch whatever you want. No deadlines to meet, no demands to fulfill. Of course, you’re still scared and crying because you don’t know what’s gonna happen next—who’s going to take you, where they’re going to take you, you again have no idea. 

You’re locked into your room all day; it has no windows, no extra doors to get out, and you’re served food whenever you ask for it. But you’re tired, and you’re terrified, and you just want to be freed. After rebelling—yelling—for the past two days, you’ve done all but slump against your bed and cry the entire day out of frustration and fear.

Two knocks on the door. “May I come in?”

“Yes,” you mumble into your sheets, tiredly slumped against them, quietly sniffling. 

“Oh look at the state of you,” Tangerine grimaces. He holds a plate in his hands, leaning against the doorway. He walks up, sitting on the couch beside the bed. “Here, some food for you,” he carelessly throws the plate onto the table, staring at you.

“Why won’t you just let me go?” you ask, voice groggy and weak from crying.

“‘Think I’ve made that very clear, darling.” he grimaces, leaning back into the couch.

You lightly push yourself up in bed, messily trying to fix your dishevelled appearance. “What do you want from me? What could anybody possibly want from me?” 

“I don’t know, love. I’m jus’ doing what I’m paid to do,”

“I’ll give you whatever you want, okay? Just— just let me go, please?” You try to persuade him. You know it’s pointless, but this is the least you can do to tell yourself you tried. 

“Nothin' you can give me. Sure of that.” he says, beginning to stand up. 

“Wait!” you stop him. “Please, anything you want from me, anything,” you look up at him, biting your lip in anticipation.

“And what might that be, hm?” he asks, his face plastered with the same annoyed expression.

“...anything you want,” you say hesitantly, not knowing what you have to give, but hoping you can be of some use. “There— there must be something I can give you, right? I don't have a lot of money on me, but... something I can do for you? Please, just let me go,”

He huffs in frustration, rolling his eyes. Then he rakes his eyes down your figure, as if contemplating, still. 

“Anything?” He asks again, almost as a confirmation. He stands up, walking up to you, so that now he stands right in front of you. Now, you’re really second guessing it. He puts his hand on your jaw lightly, tilting your head up, “Speak up, love. Anything, you said?”

You nod, slowly, hands pushing yourself back onto the mattress to get away from his touch. 

“Oh, no. You’re not going anywhere now,” He says, pulling you in by your throat. “‘Been pestering me for so fucking long about it, why so quiet now?”  He asks, tightening his thumb over your pulse, making you feel light-headed.

You try to swallow against his palm, hand going up to his. “Please…” you whisper quietly.

“What was that?” he bends down, as if he genuinely can’t hear you. 

You try to pry his hands away, fingers scrambling to move his hand. “Can’t— Can’t breathe,”

“You brought it upon yourself, darling. Y’keep fucking begging all the time and look where it gets you,” he looks at you with a dazed expression, his face still stoic and angry, as it always is. He pushes you on your back, hand tighter now.

“Please— ngh—”

“D’you ever stop fucking speaking? God, it’s like I’ll have to shut you up myself.” He slowly begins climbing onto the bed, straddling you. “Do I?” 

With your head in a daze, you still have no idea. So you simply sit beneath him prettily, biting your lip. He slaps you—light enough to just tilt your head to the side. “You better speak up, love. You’ve already put me in a bad mood. Do I need to shut you up or will you stay quiet?”

“I will— I will, yes,” you gasp out, both hands still on his hand. 

“Good,” he says, and then gets off of you. He goes to lock the door, seating himself back on the couch. “Take off y’clothes,” he orders, leisurely lighting a cigarette for himself. 

You sit up, still catching your breath, looking up at him blankly. “Huh?”

“Oh, y’heard me. Take your clothes off. Weren’t you ready for just anything right now?” 

You’d expected him to smirk. But he doesn’t—he has that dark look in his eyes, staring at you as if he’s angry at you. He probably is, you think.

Slowly, you start unbuttoning your shirt—his shirt, technically. You didn’t have anything of your own to wear—your hands hesitant, shy to undress yourself in front of him. Now that you think about it, him doing it would have probably been better. It would have been less… humiliating. You’re no professional stripper, after all. 

When you’re fully naked, you bite your lip in anticipation, thighs clenched and hands subconsciously trying to cover your breasts. He pats his lap, signalling you to sit on it. You get up, walking upto him awkwadly, sitting down sideways onto his lap. 

His hand snakes around your waist, spreading your thighs. As he takes a drag of the cigarette, his hand tilts your face towards himself, blowing the smoke into your mouth. You cough, turning your face away, just when he harshly pulls you towards himself. “No, no turning back now.” He stubs out the cigarette, his finger starts circling your clit, mouth peppering kisses down the side of your throat. 

“G’na make you suffer for irritating me like that,” he says as he bites down on your neck, and you whimper, knowing he will live up to his words. His finger moves up and down on your clit, touch not enough at all. It’s teasing, slow, and feather-light. He moves your panties to the side, fingers entering you only partially. Then he retreats, going back to circling your clit. You buck your hips into his light touch.

“Look at you, so fucking desperate. So willing to take my cock, aren’t ya?” His fingers still work on your clit, his touch light enough to keep you just on the edge. He looks at you awaiting an answer. Unfortunately, you’re to focused on angling your hips the right way to get his fingers to touch you properly, though he moves them farther and farther. 

“Speak when you’re fucking spoken to, goddamnit,” he hisses, frustrated, hand grabbing your jaw and tilting it towards himself. 

You instantly nod, breathy moans of ‘yes,’ coming out of your mouth. “More,” you whine, body writhing in desperation and need. In response, he only grabs your tits roughly, hands playing around with them so meanly that it makes you whimper. 

“Ouch!” you wince, hand trying to move his harsh grip from your tits. “Please,”

“Pathetic fucking girl, aren’t ya…” he looks at you with amusement park in his eyes. “Begging your kidnapper for more? That gets you off?” he lifts you up, making you straddle one of his thighs. “Go, get yourself off, then,” he smirks, leaning back in his seat as he lets your desperate self go about it. 

You’ve never felt more humiliated, to be honest. With your hands on his chest and your cunt humping on his thigh, and your face heated, you whimper quietly. “How d’you feel about rubbing your cunt on my thigh, huh?”

“Feels so good,” you moan out, humping faster. 

“No, darling. I’m not asking how y’cunt feels. I know it feels good,” he smirks, pulling on your hair harshly, making you gasp. “I’m asking how you feel…”

“F— Filthy,” you say. Truly, you do, with the sheer desperation you are humping him with. You moan, getting close to your high. 

“Hm, thought so. Really fucking pathetic…”

“I’m gonna—”

“Go ahead, wet my fucking thigh,” he says, pulling harder on your hair. Your back arches, chest now at his face. His mouth was so filthy, his words were so filthy, that it made you come instantly with your head tipped back, eyes rolled at the back of your head and eyes rolled to the back of your head. Your hips slow down, coming to a stop, chest heaving with heavy breaths. 

��Did I say you could fucking stop?” he frowns. “You will rub y’filthy cunt on my thigh ‘til you’re crying. I wanna see those pretty little tears again,”

“But it’s—”

“Anything, you said, right?”

So he makes you come again, and again, until your eyes finally well up with tears. All the while he does nothing, making the whole thing much more humiliating for you, and as your thighs shake and body trembles you lift your hips up. 

“No, no more, please,” you beg.

“I said I wanted to see you crying, love. You’ve only teared up yet. Don’t make me do it myself—I’ll make you sob. Scream, even.” 

But you don’t. You’re so sensitive right now that you don’t even comprehend—much less respond. Your head is resting on his shoulder—hesitantly—body jolting.

“Fine,” he sighs, rolling his eyes. His fingers grip your hips brutally, moving your hips back and forth. He slaps your ass, setting a quick pace on his thigh which has you gripping his hand, trying to move it off. 

“Too much— please,” 

“I gave you a choice. Shut up now.”

Your thighs squeeze his, hand desperately trying to pry his off, “Don’t you dare,” he says. “If you try to move my hand once more, I promise I will make you regret it.”

Somehow, the threat makes you come again. He chuckles, hand still not stopping. Naturally, though you keep in your mind his threat, your body tries its best to wriggle out of his grip. You moan, loudly, hands grasping the collar of his blazer tightly. 

“Please,” you whine. “Can’t anymore, it hurts,”

“Will it take my cock in your mouth to shut you up?”

When you come again, finally crying this time, your hands can’t help but fly down to his to stop him. 

“Now, what did I say?” He suddenly stops. "What did I fucking say?" Though he sounds enraged and makes you scared, those few moments are like relief to you while you breathe and shake and rest your head on his shoulder, the sound of him unzipping making you look up.

He lifts you up and manouvers you down onto the couch, hand holding your face down. 

“Now, let’s see how much I can make you cry, yeah?”

oh this is DEFINITELY one of those cringey

"i don't have money for rent🥺"

"i can think of a few ways you can pay me😼"

but HEY i tried, maybe i will get better plot ideas in the forseen future

[gogomatthew]

Request: (Smut)

Hotch gives Spencer the lead on a new case. And when Y/N doesn’t do what Spencer said to do- well let’s say when they get home she gets punished.

Just you wait

SPENCER REID X FEM!READER

summary: being from a different department and working with your fiancé was always great except but things change when you don’t seem to obey his orders

warnings: choking • punishment • spanking • sub!dom dynamics • cursing • arguing • bj • PV •

a/n: english isn’t my first language so I apologize for any gramatical errors! I don’t really see Spencer as a dom tbh so this was a little difficult for me to write sorry if its not exactly what you wanted honestly it was rushed :/

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI!! 18+ SMUT AHEAD

“I dont feel great about this just so you know” Emily says as you both enter the DCPD. “You think I do? but we can’t prioritize feelings over case right now” Emily sighs as you squeeze the orange envelope filled with new pictures of the crime scene between your fingers subconsciously releasing your stress onto it with a deep breath.

You see a lanky figure make his way towards both of you with a glare of disbelief plastered on his face. “You went behind my back?” though his tone is angry theres hurt laced between his words. “Im sorry but we found new evidence that-” he cuts you off “I dont care right now! Im leading this case and I told everyone to stay away from the scene until further notice. You cant just ignore my authority!” his eyes switch back and forth between you and Emily

“I work for a different department” Emily just sighs and throws her hands up in surrender as she walk away past Spencer after realizing the conflict just got a little personal. Spencer runs his hands down his face in defeated frustration causing his words to come out slightly muffled “Am I joke to you? seriously am I? I know you work for a different department but you never seem to have a problem obeying Hotch..” his hands fall back to his sides as he grabs the envelope from you and storms off leaving you there with your thoughts.

For some cases your department sent you out as the traveling detective to help out the BAU and you never had a problem working along side your fiancé I mean this job is what brought you both together but having him as your acting boss was slightly different. Its not that you didn’t respect his authority you just didn’t understand his judgment at this moment. He knew how your job functioned and always did his best to help you with whatever you needed but right now he was stopping you from doing your job and you were worried about him but there were victims at risk.

Hypothetically he would’ve been fine if..

If Hotch wasn’t hovering

If the geographical range wasnt so large

If the building wasnt so loud

If the PD didn’t see him as joke

if it wasn’t dangerous for his agents to leave the building alone

ect,, there were too many thoughts taking over and none of them were good.

Thankfully the evidence you and Emily found was crucial to the investigation and even though he was still under immense stress you felt as if at least you took a little weight off Spencers shoulders although that didint mean he was pleased with your actions. He avoided you throughout the day even after the unsub was caught not even breaking the silence on the car ride home. Before you can even finish parking Spencer is stepping out of the car and entering your shared apartment before you.

You make your way inside not too long after him with tears of pent up frustration brimming your eyes and threatening to fall only for those thoughts to be forgotten as your head gently hits the wall. Spencer has you pinned by his large hand lightly squeezing your neck the way he knows you love as his other hand holds both of your wrists between his fingers. “what was that today? first you ignore my authority..” a squeeze to your neck as his raspy voice lingers closer to your slightly open mouth “and then you humiliate me?” another squeeze and the tears fall alongside a whimper “why’re you crying baby? you know I just wanna keep you safe and thats why I couldn’t let you go to the scene” his tone is genuine care mixed with condensation as he looks you up and down hungrily “but you just had to ignore me and im gonna have to make you learn your lesson” his grip on your throat loosens as his hand gently strokes your face wiping away your tears “m- sorry” you choke out as he ghosts his lips over yours, his hot breath makes your thighs clench.

“I know you are but its too late now” his grip on you loosens and he pushes you down harshly to your knees as he undoes his belt without a word. As he frees his cock from his boxers he gives it 2 slow strokes “open” he simply says and you obey, taking him into your mouth eagerly. What you cant fit into your mouth you pump with you hand causing his breath to hitch at the stimulation. Spencer strokes his finger through your hair before fisting it and thrusting his hips into your mouth. He’s vocal and hes not shy about it, his moans come out strained and loud as you feel his dick twitch on your tongue getting ready to have your throat welcome in his load despite your gagging until he pushes you away “d-dont wanna cum yet.. gonna make you beg for it first” he says out of breath as he lifts you off the ground and into the bedroom.

“take it off.. I want a show” with a gulp you start unbuttoning your blouse slowly trying not to seem to desperate and take your pants off as he eyes you lustfuly. You are completely nude to him as his shirt and boxers remain “come here” you walk over to him cautiously and he sits you down on his thigh resting his hands on your hips slowly rocking you back and forth causing a moan to drop from your parted lips. “mm” you start rocking yourself faster as he removes his touch from you depriving you “please” he fake pouts “please what? I need to hear it” a desperate cry leaves your mouth knowing you wont be able to cum just from his thigh “I need you” he chuckles “need what? my fingers?” his hand cups your dripping cunt teasing your entrance with his fingers “n-no your-” a whimper leaves your throat “your cock”

one last look at you and he’s flipping you over so hes caging your body under his own. He grabs his dick in his hand and pushes it into your entrance without warning or giving you time to adjust. His hand finds its way back to your throat making your sounds of pain and pleasure sound strained. His thrusts dont have a rhythm theyre just ruthless and fast. “hah- ah you crying? im just correcting your behavior” his cock brushes your g spot so good it makes you forget how to talk “you know that right baby?” now this is condescending but you cant find it in you to care right now, the pleasure taking over “say it.. say you deserve this” his hold on your throat releasing so he can hold onto the bed frame to go deeper against your sensitive spot “ahh say it” with a yelp you manage to push the words out “I-I deserve t-this” his thrust dont let up it just fuels him on even more “wasnt gonna let you c-cum tonight but I think id rather fuck you stupid ah- what’d you think about that?” he knows you’re already seconds away from your orgasm as your eyes start rolling to the back of your head and you cant provide any actual words. His free hand makes its way down to your clit desperate to make you his own little fuck toy. Your legs start shaking erratically and without a warning you cum all over spencers aching cock with him hot on your heels. You pant but before you have time to catch your breath you’re roughly flipped over onto your stomach as a rough slap lands on your ass

“im not done with you yet”

[thetriumphantpanda]

close to you | javier peña

Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Nine

Chapter Summary | A week of not hearing from Javi since he ran out has you tearing your hair out, so you throw yourself into your work as a distraction, with catastrophic consequences.

Chapter Warnings | mentions of drugs and the drug trade, alcohol consumption, threatening language, violence, blood, descriptions of a head injury and concussion, Javier Peña to the rescue, soft!Javi.

Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader

Word Count | 3.2k

Authors Note | I am forever appreciative of how patient you guys are for updates of this series! Thank you for hanging in there whilst my muse and creativity ebbs and flows, I love you all! We're getting towards the conclusion of this little story, with only a few chapters left so I hope you guys are still enjoying this! If you are enjoying this then reblogs and comments really do help and if you’d like to support me further, please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi. 

I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist

You wonder when staring at the work in front of you might actually yield something worth writing about. It’s all you’ve done since you picked up this stupid story and decided to chase it. Staring at the pages on your desk has become all the more common in the week since Javi ran out on you. He’s avoided your calls to his phone, you’ve not seen him around town, and the one time you decided to call the house, Chucho answered and with the most sincere voice you’d ever heard, told you he wasn’t in but that he promised he’d ask him to call you when he got back. That had been two days ago, so you’d practically given up all hope of ever hearing from him again.

For the first couple of days, you’d cursed yourself, wondering why you’d kept any of that stuff in the first place. Newspaper clippings and annotated notes about everything he and his team had done in Colombia. You didn’t need it anymore, thesis done, completed, and with a better mark than you could ever have hoped for. But until you’d seen him in the flesh, knew he was back for good and safe in Texas, it was the only way to feel close to him. Stupid for sure. But then the anger had set in - he’d no right to rifle through your drawers, pick up your notebooks and thumb through them. The barrage of different emotions was hard to deal with, and at the very base level, you missed him, you wanted him back, and you wanted to explain everything to him - that’s incredibly hard when he won’t answer his fucking phone though.

Turning your attention back to your work, you try and focus. You’ve met dead end after dead end with this stupid story and there really is only one place left for you to go. If it’s not Tyler then it has to be someone else in the family that’s involved. You can’t imagine it’s head of the family, so that really only leaves Tyler’s brother. It might be stupid and you might make a terrible enemy out of the mayor’s family, but there’s something else going on here and whatever it is, you’re going to get to the bottom of it, no matter how.

You can still never get over the size of the Johnson family home. Richard and his wife had two sons, one their pride, the other, not so much, but if you looked at their house, you’d think they had at least twelve children. No family needed this many rooms, you think, as you walk up the driveway.

It’s the early afternoon and you can see Garrett’s car parked in front of the house. Tyler will be at work, as will Richard, and you’re pretty sure their mother is never at home. You don’t really know what it is she does, but it’s some form of charitable work that involves travelling more than it does time at home.

You take a deep breath and ring the bell, waiting the appropriate amount of time before ringing it again. It’s a huge house after all, it must take a while to get from anywhere to the front door. A few seconds later, the door opens, and Garrett is stood in front of you, dressed in dress pants and a shirt that has the arms rolled up to the elbows. He smiles at you and opens the door a bit wider, invites you in - it’s much warmed than the reception you got from his brother.

“Lovely to see you,” He smiles, guiding you through the foyer and into the kitchen, “Can I get you a drink?”

“Water would be great, thank you.” You smile back, waiting for him to put a glass in front of you, topped up with water and fresh ice.

“I assume you’re here from the paper?” He asks, leaning cooly against the kitchen counter.

“That’s right,” You nod, sipping at the water, “Has Tyler spoken to you recently?”

Garrett shakes his head, “No, I haven’t seen him in a few weeks actually.”

You hum, nodding your head, thankful that you have the upper hand of surprise still - that this part of the family don’t know you’re sniffing around looking for a reason that one of their houses was used as some form of drug den.

“How have you been since Dylan died?” You ask, “I know you were really good friends.”

It’s a question that makes sense, they were very good friends, and although it’s been a while, you’re hoping your feigned concern for his mental welfare might make him open up.

“It’s been hard,” He starts, “He was my best friend, and to suddenly not have him around anymore…” He trails off, “I miss him.”

You nod, hoping the look of concern you think you’ve got across your face is projecting enough to make him feel like he can trust you.

“Was he the reason your dad has started being heavier with drugs in town?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Garrett nods, “He saw how fucked up it made me to lose my friend and decided enough was enough, that someone needed to do something to fix the trouble we’ve been having in town for years.”

There’s another nod from you, “Makes sense,” You offer, “Not really working very well though, is it?”

“These things take time.” He offers, in that perfectly practiced politician way that they always answer things.

“Look, I’m gonna cut to the chase Garrett,” You sigh, “That house in town that got raided recently? We’ve been looking into it and it all leads back to you, to your family, and it doesn’t matter who I ask, no-one knows why that place was being used as a drug den, but someone in this family knows exactly why.”

Garrett scoffs, “You’ll want to talk to my brother about that.”

“Well, that’s the thing Garrett,” You speak, “I did, and that man is clean as a whistle, he hasn’t taken drugs in at least a year, and the last time he was at the house, it was clear of anything,” You shrug, “I can’t imagine your dad being involved in anything like this, so that just leaves you.”

You can see his demeanour change almost immediately, he’s uncomfortable, moving from foot to foot and you can see the start of perspiration on his forehead.

“You’re telling me you think I’m involved in something?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

“Well, you’re wrong.”

“Am I?”

He pushes himself from the counter he’s been leaning against, takes a few steps towards you, trying to intimidate you, but you know you’re pushing in the right direction, he wouldn’t be reacting like this if you were barking up the wrong tree.

“Where’s your evidence?” He asks.

“Maybe you’ll have to buy the paper to find out?”

“Listen here you little bitch,” He spits, pointing his finger in your face, “You ought to be careful about this, you think this is just me?” He asks, stepping even closer to you, making your breath catch in your throat, “You think you publish this story and it’ll just be me you have to worry about? You’re dead wrong, publish whatever story you’re planning and you’ll have a rain of fucking fire to deal with from people you don’t want to get on the wrong side of.”

“So, it was you then?” You can help but smirk, having caught him redhanded in a confession, the recorder in your bag that you’d pressed on before he’d answered the door your little secret.

You watch some kind of fury flick over his eyes as he grits his teeth, his hands pressed into your shoulders to push you back, “Stupid little girl.” He says as he pushes, but it’s a lot harder than you’d anticipated and it makes you lose your balance, falling backward.

It all happens in a blur, the side of your head makes contact with the corner of the kitchen island, pain spreading almost immediately across your forehead, vision blurring as your backside hits the floor. You’re sort of aware of something warm and wet dripping down your cheek, which you brush away with the back of your hand as you try and quickly reorientate yourself. Then you feel a hand wrap around your arm and a presence next to you, not quite all there enough to push it away.

“Oh shit,” You hear Garrett speak next to you, “Shit, shit shit,” He’s touching your face now, “I'm sorry, I- oh god - I didn’t mean to push you that hard.”

You groan, letting your head tip back against the cool marble of the kitchen island, “Am I-” You struggle to speak, “Am I bleeding?”

“Oh god-” Garrett mutters, “I’m going to be sick.”

And then he’s gone, the sound of his shoes clipping against the floor as he runs to God knows where, leaving you disorientated and bleeding on his kitchen floor. You know you need to get out of here, slowly moving yourself just enough to push yourself to your feet, hands gripping the counter as you reach for your bag. You’re dizzy as you walk towards the door, looking down at the floor because as soon as you look up, you feel like you’re going to throw up and pass out. You can see yourself leaving small drops of blood on the floor as you move - a trail that follows you all the way down the driveway and to your car. You fumble with your keys, dropping them on the floor. When you bend over to try and pick them up, your vision goes fuzzy before you can grab them from the ground. You know you can’t drive like this.

In the haze of confusion you look around, a little way down the street you spot a phone box. It’s slow going, but you make it, pulling open the door, leaning against the glass wall, pinching the bridge of your nose to try and ease the ache behind your eyes. You shuffle through your bag to find your wallet, pulling out a handful of coins that you push into the slot. You think about phoning your father, but realise there’s only one person you want right now. Despite having his number memorised, you pull the worn card from your wallet, mainly to make sure that the haze of confusion doesn’t make you dial the wrong number. You drag your thumb over the faded number, watching a smear of blood cover it, and then press the number into the dialling pad, listening to it start to ring.

“Please Javi,” You whisper, “Please answer.”

You’re about to lose hope, expecting the phone to ring out, but through some form of divine intervention, the ringing stops and you hear the voice you’ve craved all week.

“Peña?”

“Oh Javi,” You sigh out in relief, feeling the prick of tears behind your eyes, “Help me.”

“Cariño?”

“Javi please, I need you.”

“What’s happened?” You can hear his tone change, concern and something else you can’t quite place, “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know, I just-” The ache behind your eyes is making you tired, “I need you to come and get me.”

“Has something happened?”

“Yes,” You reply, “I’m so tired Javi, I can’t drive.”

“Where are you?”

“The mayor’s house,” You reply, “Well- no - I'm in the phone box down the road.”

“You stay right there, okay?” He’s frantic on the other end of the phone, you can tell.

“Please hurry.”

He’s beside himself as he drives from the ranch and into town. A week of avoiding you, of avoiding his feelings towards you, and you’re hurt. He still can’t think about what happened. He doesn’t even know why he’d answered the phone this time - he’d avoided answering anything that had come through on his phone since he’d run out on you before, but there’s something today that made him pick up, and by God is he pleased he did. He doesn’t think he could have lived with himself if he’d let you call and left you hurt and injured in the middle of nowhere.

He thinks of all the other women throughout his life that he's let down. Lorraine and the way he left her, Helena and the way she risked herself for him, for the promise of a fucking visa, and paid the price. Most women in his life ended up hurt, emotionally or physically, and it was becoming evident to him that you were no different.

Not knowing, and not caring about how many speed restrictions he breaks, he makes it to the phone box in record time, cutting the engine and slamming the door behind him. He takes four or five big steps to the phone box, tearing open the door to find you slumped on the floor, eyes fluttering open at the disturbance. He takes a deep breath, dropping to his knees in front of you.

“Cariño, it’s me,” He speaks softly, “Can you hear me?”

He takes your face in his hands, turns it towards the quickly fading light, finding the cut on your forehead. The blood has dried and scabbed over, but there’s a trail of crusting blood down your cheek and side of your neck. He thinks of Helena in this moment, about draping his jacket over her naked body, cradling her to his body, reluctantly handing her over to a paramedic, not knowing what would come of her.

“Javi?” Your voice is quiet, but your eyes are looking at him, glassed over, but at least you recognise him.

“That’s me,” He speaks softly, “Are you okay?”

“Tired,” You mumble, and then you shake your head in his hands, “Head hurts.”

“Shall we move you?” He asks, knowing he can’t leave you here, “Come here.”

Letting go of your face, he runs his palms down your arms to where your hands are clasped together. He gently pries open your fingers and takes hold of the card there, holding it up. It’s the card he’d given you with his number on, edges torn and worn. He can clearly see where you've run your fingers over the printed text, and where it's sat in your purse, pulled out and slotted bacon whenever you've needed him. He tries to take it, but your hand clasps over it again.

“Don’t,” You whisper, “It’s mine, don’t take it.”

“It’s okay, Cariño,” He replies, “I’ll keep it safe, just let me have it whilst we get you into the car.”

“My keys,” You mumble as he stands up, leaning down despite the protest of his knees and his back, “I dropped them.”

He’s scooping you up, not quite able to carry you, but able to lean you against his side to walk you to the passenger side of his truck.

“Where did you drop them?” He asks, settling you into the passenger seat, leaning across you to clip your seatbelt in.

“My car-” Your head lolls to the side, eyes hooded as you look at him, “On the ground.”

He presses a kiss to your cheek, shutting the door gently. He finds your keys on the ground by your car, and then after checking that the doors are still locked, he shoves the keys into his pocket and focuses his attention back to you.

The drive out of town is slower, Javi conscious that he doesn’t want to jostle you too much. Each corner he turns makes you groan. He had considered taking you to your own home, but he decides instead to take you back to the ranch. He pulls up, noticing the lights on in the living room. He knows he’s going to have questions from his father, but he doesn’t worry about that, instead he focuses on getting you out of the truck and into the house.

There’s a look from Chucho when he bursts through the front door, but Javi gives him a clipped shake of his head and instead walks you up the stairs and into his room. He sits you down on the side of the bed, kissing your forehead as he grabs some supplies from his bathroom - a warm, damp washcloth and his bag of first aid supplies, put together by Chucho when he’d come back to the ranch - his dad not convinced he wouldn’t injure himself with the manual labour.

“Hey, cariño?” He speaks softly, on his knees in front of you, “Look at me?”

You do, but your eyes are barely open. He works quickly, wiping away the crusted blood from your face first before he turns his attention to the actual cut. Once he’s cleaned it a little, he can see it’s not as deep as he’d anticipated. He brushes it with an antiseptic wipe, soothing you when it stings enough to make you gasp, and then covers it with a small plaster.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble as he eases you back on the bed, head down on his pillows.

“What for?” He asks, sitting down on the edge of the bed, brushing your hair from your face.

“Scaring you off.”

“Oh hermosa,” He breathes, feeling guilt pool in his stomach, nut not ready to quite face the conversation of what really made him run that night, “I’m here now, okay? And I’m not going anywhere.”

He listens to you groan in approval, moving your body to get a little more comfortable.

“What happened today?” He asks quietly, trying to keep you awake so he knows who did this to you.

“Went to the house,” You speak, punctuated with a yawn, “Asked Garrett about the house.”

It’s almost like you get a second wind, trying to sit up, but he knows you need to stay still, so he gently pushes you back down.

“It’s him Javi,” You groan, “He’s the one dealing the drugs.”

“Shhhhh,” It’s the only thing he can think to do, “Just rest, cariño, we can talk later.”

Javi sits there for longer than he needs. You’re softly snoring within minutes, but he still sits there to make sure you’re out for the count. When he’s sure you’re settled and still breathing, he heads downstairs, ignoring his father’s knowing look as he pours himself a generous amount of whiskey.

“When were you going to tell me?”

Javi shrugs, “I’m not sure,” He answers honestly, “It’s new.”

“Not that new,” Chucho huffs, “You were always shit at sneaking around,” He picks up his own drink, “Saw you after my birthday.”

Javi tips his head back and can’t help but chuckle because it’s true, he was never good at keeping things from his dad. He just hopes you’ve both done a better job at keeping things from your parents.

“You know what you’re doing with her?”

It’s a question he doesn’t really know how to answer, mulling over the answer in his mind before he lets his mouth speak.

“I just know I want to keep her safe,” He speaks, “And that I think I might love her.”

Javi watches as Chucho’s mouth grows into a smile, a small nod given in his direction.

“Will she be okay?”

Javi nods, “I think so yes, hit her head pretty hard, but I think after she’s slept she’ll be okay.”

Chucho pushes himself from his chair, draining his almost-empty cup. He puts it in the sink and then puts a warm hand on Javi’s shoulder with a squeeze.

“I just want you to be happy, finally,” He says, “That’s all that matters.”

Javi watches as he walks away, off to his room to sleep, and speaks into the silence of the empty kitchen once he’s gone, “Thanks, dad.”

[madhatterbri]

Just Hear Meow-t | K.M.

Summary: I was thinking Kol Mikaleson x Reader. Where Reader was finding blood for Kol because he was hungry. She found some blood bag from the hospital and she heard a tiny meow and she found a cute small kitten. It has brown eyes and mixed tan and brown fur, and it reminds her of Kol. She brought the kitten back, and Kol was eyeing at her, looking for suspicious. When she told him what she found, she gave him the cute baby eyes to convince him that Kol and Reader could keep it. :)

Author's Note: I'm incredibly corny. 😂😂

Requested by @twinklestarslight

You waited behind the hospital and tapped your foot impatiently. The nurse should have been out here by now to give you the blood bags. They weren't for you, but for your boyfriend, Kol Mikaelson. The pain in the ass, temperamental, sexy, handsome vampire that you grew to love. You loved him so much that you drove miles to a hospital to get blood bags for him.

"About bloody time," you snapped at him. "What took you so long?"

"They are getting suspicious. I had to go a different route," he answered quickly. He didn't want to be on the hit list of any vampires. You rolled your eyes and grabbed the cooler from him.

"Figure it out, or next time he'll be coming for a visit and not me," you threatened. "And you won't like it when he pays a visit,"

He nodded quickly. He had never seen Kol before, and he didn't want to. You told him plenty of horror stories from his past. He wasn't so bad now, but he definitely wouldn't mind tearing this man up. He muttered an apology and scurried back inside.

You turned to go back to your car but stopped. A tiny meow sounded from behind a garbage can. "The hell?"

You looked behind the can to see a kitten. The kitten mewed and took a few steps back. Brown eyes stared at you in wonder. Eyes similar to your beloved.

You set your hand down and moved your fingers around. The kitten walked slowly to you. His paw swatted at your fingers. You chuckled and stood up. You really needed to get the blood to Kol.

The kitten meowed at your sudden departure. As you went to pick up the cooler, the kitten jumped on your jeans covered leg. He climbed your leg to not allow you to leave him. His brown and tan fur is almost similar to Kol as well.

"I guess you chose me, huh, baby?" You asked and picked the creature from your jeans. You placed the cat on your shoulder. He snuggled into your face while you walked with the cooler to the car.

He slept in the passenger seat the whole ride home. You figured he hadn't had a full night's sleep in a while. He woke up once you stopped in front of your apartment. He yawned and looked at you. His big brown eyes full of wonder.

"Welcome home, little guy," You smiled and placed him on your shoulder. You grabbed the cooler from the trunk and walked to your front door. Your keys unlocked the door and you walked in. "I'm home, darling,"

The kitten meowed, and you tensed. Kol was never a huge lover of animals. His footsteps could be heard down the hallway. You grabbed him and placed him behind your back. "Stay quiet,"

"What?" Kol asked once he came around the corner. He eyed you suspiciously. "Did you say something?"

"Your blood bags are here. Sorry for the delay," you apologized. "The nurse was late,"

"Should I go over there and tell him that my girl's time matters?" He asked and kissed your lips. He ran his hands down your arms and noticed you were hiding your hands. "Do you have a surprise for me, darling?"

"Not exactly," you giggled nervously.

"What is it?" He asked trying to peek over your shoulders.

"Nothing. Just some trash I found that I have to throw away," you answered. You backed towards the kitchen counter. He followed after you, not believing you for a second. The kitten meowed in protest at being called trash.

"Was that a kitten? Did you bring a kitten home?" He asked. You sighed and brought your hands forth. The kitten stared at him.

"Honey," he started.

"Please? He reminds me of you, and he was hiding behind a trash can. You should have seen him in the car. He slept the whole way home. I'll take care of him," you begged. Kol picked him up from your hands. He rubbed under his chin. The kitten purred in delight. His eyes closed.

"You trying to take my girl, little guy?" He asked and held the kitten like a baby. The vampire sighed. He knew how lonely you were when he left to help his brothers. "Fine, you can keep him, darling,"

You squealed in delight and kissed lips. You looked down and smiled at your new kitten. He was fast asleep in Kol's arms. His little ear twitched as he snoozed.

[inkdrinkerworld]

spitfire!reader with dealer!remus and they’re at a party and remus is in the middle of ya know doing his thing and he hears reader threatening to kick somebody’s ass and he’s like alright okay and either hits the guy for her or just picks her up and is like alright time to leave

omg dealer!remus is the perfect au of remus for spitfire!reader!!! cw: mention of a pervert and unwanted advances

remus and you are at a party which isn't unusual. remus is doing his business and you're with the girls in the living room.

remus can see you from where he is, which is necessary if your party reputation is anything to go by.

he takes his eyes off of you for twenty seconds, twenty short seconds to get more weed from his bag and then he hears your voice and knows he has twenty seconds to reach you before things escalate.

"who the fuck do you think you are? you don't just spill your drink on a girl and then try to feel her up you fucking pervert!" remus hauls you over his shoulder before you can throw the punch you wanted to.

sirius is there too, pushing the guy's chest with a stern, "let's take a walk, mate."

"remus, put me down," you say sternly and he shakes his head.

"no, you're still wired. we're going home," he pats your bum as he takes your jacket and walks to his car.

"remus, he's a pervert! spilt his drink all over mary and then tried feeling her up." remus sets you on your feet and crowds your space as he presses you against the door of his car.

"yeah and as nasty as he is rocky, you can't start the fight," you frown, ready to rebut remus when mary comes outside with a smile on her face and a dry shirt on.

"sirius said to tell you that the boy's got a bloody nose and a broken finger." she goes back inside when you nod.

"see? don't need you fighting them okay?" you nod while rolling your eyes making remus chuckle. "i'm serious baby."

"you play nasty remus, you know what it does to me when you call me baby," you pout and let remus kiss your jaw.

"you love it." he decides, holding your chin as he kisses you. remus feels you melt against him and the car and smiles into the kiss. glad he doesn't have to try to talk the police out of arresting you tonight.

[evie-sturns]

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴇʀ ᴄᴀᴍᴘ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟO

part 4 (final part) (part 3,) (part 2), (part 1)

summary: you and your best-friend matt, have decided to sign up to be a summer camp counsellor for your school's summer project! will you two stay as just friends? or will this summer turn out different for you guys.

a/n: this is the last part of the series so it will be a little longer, took alot of mental strength to finish this series haha.

warnings: smut, car sex, angst, fluff, swearing

—------------╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝------------——

previously

"saw you two last night." she says, her arms folded.

my stomach drops. "jessie wants you two in her office, such a shame that you have to go home so early, you were only here for such a small amount of time! guess someone didn't read the no romance between staff rule.." she tuts.

"god, i feel soo sorry for you guys, also gonna fail business class cause you couldn't even keep a job here." she says in a fake sympathetic tone. tears well in my eyes, threatening to fall.

"oh well, go on get dressed and pack your bags, better to be prepared before you see jessie." she sighs before walking out of our cabin.

-

as soon as dani leaves our cabin i jump out of bed, on the brink of tears. "come here." matt says, walking over to me and holding his arms out. I walk over to him, he pulls me into a tight hug as he rubs my back.

"matt." i say, my voice shaky.

"i know i know." he reassures, whispering into my hair.

"i can't even believe this, we're about to get kicked out of summer camp all because of danielle, i'm about to fail final year business which will ruin my collage application-"

i ramble, but i'm cut off by his lips meeting mine.

after a few seconds he quickly pulls away, running a hand through his hair. "look y/n, none of this shouldve happened, we should just stay as friends yeah?" he says softly

friends?

my heart sinks, he regrets everything? like i mean everything?

we should just stay as friends..?

my face visibly drops, the cabin grows silent as matt just looks at me.

i clear my throat, trying not to cry for the 2nd time this morning. "i'm gonna get dressed." i say, my voice shaky, barely above a whisper.

i grab some low rise denim shorts and a tank top, getting changed in the corner of the cabin as matt packs his things.

"lets go, jess is probably waiting in her office for us." matt mumbles, opening the door to the cabin and stepping out into the fresh morning air.

the walk down to the main building is silent, the awkward tension still present.

as i step inside jessie is waiting, her arms folded. "wont you two please come inside in my office." she says, opening the door into her office. me and matt walk inside.

dani is sitting there, looking guilty.

me and matt share a confused look before sitting down on a couch,

jessie comes inside, sitting down aswell as she starts.

"i assume you both know why you're here?" jessie asks, looking at me and matt mutiple times.

we both stay silent, trying to think of what to say

"well clearly not, your here because of the incident with y/n and dani, i am aware a few days ago there was a fight in the bathrooms over matthew."

i almost cry from relief, this wasn't about me and matt fucking in the bushes. i look over at matt, hes running a hand through his hair, letting out a sigh of relief.

"last night, dani came to me, saying she saw you two partaking in inappropriate activites."

shit.

"like what.." matt asks softly.

"well dani told me you two were making out in the shed." jessie says, crossing her arms

thank god.

"i am choosing not to do anything serious about this incident, but i will be moving dani to the puffer fish staff group, meaning you will not see her for the rest of the summer to prevent anymore physical fights." jessie says calmly.

dani scoffs "the fuck are you on jessie? move y/n away, i did nothing wrong, they were the ones kissing?" she says, throwing her hands up.

"dani. go pack your bags and move into the pufferfish staff cabins now." jessie says, clear irritaion in her voice.

dani stands up, glaring at matt, she storms out of jessies office.

"and for you two, no more intimacy or i will seperate you two aswell" jessie declares.

(5 weeks later)

ever since the meeting with jessie, me and matt have stayed friends, we didnt discuss the makeouts, or the spontaneous hook up. we've just been acting as friends, i hate to admit it, but i think im inlove with matt.

-

its the last day of summercamp, all the staff at the camp are sitting around the campfire, loud chatter fills the summer air as i sit next to matt.

theres around 25 staff members all gathered around the fire, matt's sitting on a foldout chair, im sitting on his lap laying myself against him. my head is resting on his shoulder as his breathing lifts me up and down slightly.

"matt.." i whisper, he moves his head to look at me.

"yeah?" he says softly, the light from the fire illuminates his face, he looks unbearably good.

"i really need to say something." i mumble, looking into his eyes. he nods understandably, maintaining eye contact with me.

i start to feel my heart beat faster,

i mean, if he liked me once he can like me again?

"i dont want to just be friends matt, i never moved on 5 weeks ago, quite frankly i think im inlove with everything about you." i ramble, matts eyes widen. i feel his body tense under me.

"you are?" he says, his voice barely audible.

"yes.. and i'm tired of pretending im not because of this stupid no camp staff romance shit." i say, looking directly into his eyes.

"i really want to kiss you right now." he says softly.

"you do?"

he awnsers my question, his lips press gently against mine for a couple seconds. he pulls away and looks around, nobody saw us, execpt for jessie.

jessie just smiles and shakes her head, theres no point in her doing anything giving that tomorrow we'll all be gone.

(The next day 8:30am)

i wake up, xaiver is still sound asleep, i get out of bed and walk over to him, tapping him lightly, as soon as he wakes up and is aware of where he is he bursts into sobs. i take a step back.

"sorry" he sniffles, "im just gonna miss you so much y/n, you've made dealing with 25 kids per day worth it, and youve helped me through getting over all my stupid boy crushes who rejected me." he says,

i giggle slightly, "love ya xaiver, you've been the best cabin roomate." i say giving him a hug. "don't cry please, ill see you when were home okay, i gave you my number and adress we'll still see eachother!" i say, trying to cheer him up.

he nods before getting out of bed and stripping the purple silk bedsheets off the matress, still sniffling.

i finished packing last night, so i help xaiver pack his bed.

i hold up a condom wrapper "why the FUCK is this under your bed xaiver." i say laughing, he slams a hand over his mouth.

"can i be honest" he says, a large smile spread across his face.

"oh my godd who did you fuck!" i giggle, throwing the wrapper at him

"lincoln." he says bluntly

i scream "matt's roommate!?" i yell, he slams a hand over my mouth.

"since when was he gay?' i whisper, xaiver shrugs "i dont know!!" he says, his face bright pink.

after a few minutes of helping xaiver pack while bullying him, the cabin was empty, clear of clutter. "you ready to go?" i say softly, he nods, we walk out of our cabin for the last time. i sigh as i approach matts cabin, hes waiting outside with lincoln, his suitcase in hand.

i whisper to xaiver "i can never look at lincoln the same."

as i approach matt he rushes over to grab my bag, i give everyone one last goodbye hug before matt takes me towards the carpark,

his car is still there, covered in leaves from the trees above. matt opens the trunk, throwing it in before getting in the drivers side. silence grows in his car before i start-

"that was one eventful summer." i say, a small smirk tugging at my lips.

he leans over and pulls me into a passionate kiss. "ready to get going?" he says, pulling away and putting on his seatbelt.

"yeah i think so!" i smile, as he turns on the car, pulling out of the carpark into the highway.

after 30 minutes of driving, and talking about the summer, matt starts to grow stressed, i know he has quite bad driving anxiety so i keep patient with him. "shit" he whispers under his breath as he changes lanes.

he grips the steering wheel so tight his knuckles go white.

"hey when you have time can we pull over for a second?" i ask quietly, he nod, pulling over into an empty parking lot with a sigh. i tie up my hair and crawl over the cup holder onto his lap. his eyes widen as he looks at me.

"you seem a little stressed yeah?" i say, moving off him and onto the car floor between his legs.

he nods, "mhm.." he says, staring down at me.

i hook a finger around the waistband of his shorts, his breathing intesifys as i slowly pull them down to his ankles, a large tent forms on his boxers. "please.." he whispers

"please what?" i tease

"touch me.." matt says, rubbing his eyes slightly out of embarrasment.

i pull down his boxers at an agonisingly slow pace, his dick springs out, resting on his stomach.

i rub his tip softly, matt bucks his hips up, desperate for more. without much warning i open my mouth, breathing on his throbbing length. i slowly lower my mouth onto the head of his cock, he lets out a long groan of pleasure as i swirl my tongue around his tip.

"feels so good-.." he manages to string together as i lick a line from his base to just under his tip, he throws his head back, squeezing his eyes shut. with my spare hand i pull off my panties, leaving me bare under my skirt.

i bob my head up and down faster on his length, he squeezes the door handle for any kind of support as his dick twitches. he unexpectedly realeases into my mouth "shit..-" he says, still out of breath. he holds a hand out infront of my mouth. "spit it out" he laughs, his cheeks red and sweat present on his forehead.

i spit it out into his hand, "gross" he mumbles, wiping his hand on a napkin. i sit back up onto his lap, his eyes widen "where did your panties go.." he says maintaining eye contact.

i hover up above his length, supporting myself on the headrest behind matt. "i dont know-.." he says, still recovering from his past orgasm. "you're okay." i say, sinking down onto him, he lets out a breathy whimper as he holds my hips. i sit for a minute at his base, adjusting to his size.

i slowly bounce up and down on his length, quickening my pace each time, matt squeezes his eyes shut, "fuck fuck fuck.." he says, growing overstimulated. "you're okay." i assure him as i clench around him, the knot in my stomach snaps as i collapse on his chest. he pants, realeasing inside of me aswell.

(2 years later)

when me and matt arrived home from summer camp 2 years ago, we made it official, after a year i moved into his house with his triplet brothers, i slept in matts room for the whole 2 years. after a year or so he started a youtube channel, i was in some of the videos and i loved it. i stuck with matt the whole time, even through his worst times.

Im sitting on matts bed as he bursts through the door, almost crying laughing "matt what!!" i say, a smile tugging at my lips.

"you'll never believe it." he says collapsing down next to me.

"tell me!" i say, grabbing his hand.

"lakeside summer camp are hiring staff members for the summer, jessie just emailed me, saying she would love for me to come."

"you're joking." i say, i haven't heard several of those words in years.

"we should totally go, i mean you know what came out of it last time!"

—------------╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝------------——

hhhhhollyyy shit finally finished, took me wayyy to long but gilmore girls got me through it. hope you guys liked this. this will also be my last post for a little bit cause school is starting in 2 days and ill be too tired out in the first few days to write.

taglist

@iammattsturniolo @iloveneilperry @tatumrileyslover @chrisstopherfilmed @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @ilovechrissturniolo1 @tyjna6 @mattybswife @is4belle

WHAT THE FUCK ANYONE WHO SAW THIS A FEW MINUTES AGO IDK WHAT HAPPENED TO THE END BEFORE I FIXED IT

[kabira]

when the devil drives.

pairing — jeonghan x fem!reader ft. bestie!joshua

word count — 23.7k

genres — road trip au, exes to friends with benefits to lovers, fighting as flirting, angst, fluff, smut (fingering, vaginal penetration, dirty talk, slight praise, cunnilingus)

warnings — toxic relationships, swearing and threatening language, explicit sexual content, they're both infuriating (yes that needs a warning, trust me)

summary — when your best friend breaks his leg and cancels your summer getaway, jeonghan turns up in his place to take you home from college on what was supposed to be a five hour car ride. except he has other plans, and you end up with more than you bargained for on a week-long road trip to nowhere with the cynical, silvertongued ex-boyfriend whom you're still kinda sorta in love with.

note — it's finally done. the bane of my existence. please enjoy the fic that made me so stressed that it delayed my period by like a week. on a lighter note, there's a playlist. enjoy <3

go to main masterlist | svt masterlist

THREE YEARS EARLIER.

The person in the mirror is not you.

The person in the mirror is beautiful when you’ve only ever felt pretty, mature even though you still feel like an overgrown child, and confident despite the fact that your heart is beating right out of your chest. Despite her makeover skills being limited to being practiced only on fortnightly dates, your mom has actually done an incredible job with you. Long hours of youtube video-watching and swatting you to remind you to sit still have finally paid off.

You trail your lilac-coated fingertips over your bare collar, marveling at the way your skin throws off light. It probably wouldn’t take much to convince your friends that it’s actually makeup instead of sweat doing the job, but it probably isn’t worth it. You stand up, looking down at the ruffled skirt of the purple dress you picked out at the mall weeks ago. Then, glancing back up at the mirror, you lift a hand to your arm, giving it a light pinch.

The yelp leaves your lips right as your mother opens the door to your bedroom, gesturing frantically with a makeup brush. “Honey, he’s here,” she informs you in a rapid hiss, looking as giddy as if it were her final prom night. “Get downstairs, quickly.”

“But my phone, and my purse—”

“They’re downstairs. First drawer of the credenza.” She slams the door shut before you can get a word in, leaving you standing in the middle of the room feeling even more alone than before.

You begin chewing on your bottom lip, and stop when you remember her specific instructions against ruining the lipstick. Smoothing down the ruffles with fluttering hands, you cast one last, yearning glance at the full-length mirror before going to the door, unlocking it gently and stepping outside.

The walk to the edge of the staircase is short, but it feels like more than an hour has passed by the time you get to it. You take a deep breath, clutching the balustrade with trembling fingers, and pause.

The noise had gone unnoticed by you earlier, owing to the anxious clamoring of overlapping thoughts in your head, but now if you pay attention you can hear your father’s stern tones, no doubt questioning your date at the front door. Anxious once more, you take a step back, wringing your hands. You carefully tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, running your hands over your skirt again, letting the texture of the ruffles calm you down. Okay, okay, I can do this, you think, placing the ball of your thumb between your teeth. It’s no big deal.

No big deal at all.

“Dad, quit grilling him,” you call out, and finally step into view. Your father looks up, and so does the poor boy he’s been cross-examining for who knows how long. You feel your face heat up at suddenly being brought into the spotlight, but manage a small smile.

You think you see your dad’s eyes misting over, but then your eyes automatically stray over to the person whose reaction you’ve been anticipating more. Your date is standing there slack-jawed, the top of his slightly-loosened tie visible as the bouquet of roses in his hands droops from inattentiveness. 

“Hi,” you say shyly, pleased at his reaction. Then, raising your hands above your dress, you give him a slow twirl. “So,” you say breathlessly, “how do I look?”

Jeonghan’s eyes are bright with fervor, the grip on the plastic cover around the flowers tighter than before, which you can tell by the way the blood has receded from his knuckles.

And he doesn’t say anything at all.

NOW.

“And done,” you say, slapping the end of the packing tape on the side of what you hope is the last carton. Then, still squatting, you place a hand on the side and lean back to examine your handiwork. To your dismay, the end of the tape has already begun to curl. "You think that’ll keep?"

"Absolutely," your roommate, Mina, hums in a way that tells you she isn’t listening. You glance back at her exasperatedly, and she gives you an apologetic grin. “Listen, I’m beyond caring at this point. That was the last of them, right?”

“Checklist.” You point at her, and she sighs, her acrylic nails tapping against the glitzy pink clipboard in her hands. 

“Yes, mother.”

Straightening, you place your hands on your hips and survey the area like the captain of a ship sailing into unknown waters. Your shared room, which had once been a safe haven strewn with comforters and fluffy rugs, is now overrun by corrugated cardboard boxes, some bulging and some rattling, almost all sealed unevenly with old dried-up tape. You rub your creased forehead. “I feel like we should’ve gotten professionals to do this work for us. The RA even recommended someone who gives out discounts for people who move before summer.”

“Are you kidding? We did a pretty bang-up job, considering this was all last-minute, and for free too,” Mina exclaims. “Plus, I would never trust a stranger with my ceramic dolls.” 

“You wouldn’t trust me with them, and I’ve been holding your hair up while you vomited in the toilet for months,” you complain. “Did we pack everything?”

She hums under her breath again, chewing on her bottom lip as her eyes roll down over the checklist. “I think so. Did you finish packing?”

“Yep.”

Mina looks sideways at one corner of the room, where your lone olive-green suitcase sits flush against the wall. “I still don’t understand how you’re going to survive a whole summer on just that.”

“It’s not a whole summer,” you correct. The thought of leaving fills you with a buzzing excitement, and you have to bite your lip to stop the smile from unfurling like a banner over your face. “Just a couple of weeks out in nature. And maybe a few motels. Neither place really requires much clothing.”

She makes a face, but dismisses the line of conversation with a wave of her hand. “Whatever you say,” she says. "Now, help me push these out into the hallway?"

You groan, but oblige. It’s mostly your fault that the two of you had to pack everything yourselves, since you picked the last possible day to move out before you’d have been thrown out of the dorms. Most of your stuff is already gone, but as a dutiful roommate, you’d promised Mina that you’d help her out before leaving for the summer. So, here you are, running on less than three hours of sleep, having spent most of this morning and the night before squeezing piles of clothes into boxes and folding bubble wrap like splints.

When you’re done, Mina takes the elevator down with you, and the sole suitcase you’re carrying feels even lighter than it is after all the boxes you'd been lugging around. When the metal doors slide open at the ground floor, you let go of a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

Mina pats your hand. Her clipboard is still tucked under her arm. “Don’t be so worried.”

You let out an uncertain laugh that fades quickly into a grimace, fingers clenched tight around the handle of your suitcase. “Why would I be worried?”

She pries your fingers out of their vice-like grip. “Exactly,” she says, grabbing the handle in your stead and pulling the suitcase out of the elevator, leaving you to awkwardly follow along, not quite knowing what to do with your hands. “After all your unfounded confidence in your packing and planning skills, it would be a shame if you lost faith in them now.” You can’t help but smile a bit at that, but for some reason, you still feel squeamish. “We’re not late, are we?”

Pushing your irrational anxiety aside, you hurriedly check your watch. “Well, um, a little,” you say with a shrug, “but Josh makes it a point never to show up until it’s fifteen minutes past our appointment.”

“So it’s all dandy then,” she says, her voice a bit further away, and when you look up you realize that she’s more than just a few steps ahead of you despite the heels and the suitcase, and you hasten your step. “Just make sure to check your pockets for condoms—”

“Mina.”

“—and your phone and wallet, and pepper spray.” She catches the stern look on your face. “You know, just in case.” She stops suddenly, and you almost trip over your own luggage. You look up at her in exasperation, but stop short upon noting the confusion on her face. “Is that Joshua?”

You follow her gaze across the parking lot, and spot the unmistakable blue Corolla parked a couple spots over. There’s a figure leaning against the side, his stark blonde hair makes the heated air shimmer like a halo over his head. Your first thought is oh, he dyed his hair. Your second is that’s not Joshua.

“What?” Mina looks confused, even as she falls into step beside you as you begin to stalk your way through the lot. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing yet,” you mutter as you reach the car. The blonde looks up, and your heart jumps into your throat. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The boy who is not Joshua tilts his head questioningly. “Why the cold reception?” Jeonghan asks. 

You raise your eyebrows, incredulous, and are just about to open your mouth to elaborate on just why he’s getting a cold reception when Mina places a placating hand on your arm. “Hi, I’m Mina,” she says, putting on a bright smile, no doubt to outweigh the dark glare you’ve directed at his face. “The roommate.”

“Jeonghan.” He inclines his head with a neutral yet pleasant smile of his own, glancing at you. His smile falls almost comically upon seeing the expression on your face. “The…”

“You didn’t answer my question,” you interject, relentless. Mina is looking more and more discomfited by the second, but you scarcely notice. 

“The ex,” Jeonghan completes. He then turns to you, raising a cool eyebrow. “I thought you knew,” he says.

“Knew what?” You demand. 

He straightens, slowly drawing his hands out of his pockets, and you almost regret asking the question. Always the dramatics, you think bitingly. “That there’s been a slight change of plans.”

There was a time you thought you could trust Joshua Hong.

For the major part of your life, he had been the one person you could rely on for (mostly) everything, even when that something involved needing someone to catch you when you snuck out your window at 2 a.m., or knowing you’d always have a clean band-aid to use if you scraped your knee biking through a junkyard.

That time was approximately a minute and twenty seconds ago, when you hadn’t pulled out your phone with its unrepaired crack and checked the unread messages—the most recent of which were from him. It says sorry, and that he’s broken his leg and won’t be able to drive you from your dorm for the planned road trip. The crack lands right over the word sorry.

You know it’s been a minute and twenty seconds because you’ve been counting.

It’s like a bubble has burst inside your chest. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you mumble softly, clenching your fingers tighter around your poor phone, which might end up with another crack if you squeeze it any further. “And he couldn’t tell me this before.”

“So you’ve been saying,” says the unwelcome replacement Joshua sent in his place. Jeonghan doesn’t have a trace of sympathy on his face as he folds his arms across his chest and checks the time on his watch. “Not to sound like an asshole, but it’s already three o’clock. We were supposed to be in town before dark, and it’s at least five hours from here.”

His voice is flat, utterly unsympathetic to your frustration. You’re still reeling, which is the only reason you don’t snap back immediately. It’s bad enough that your best friend isn’t here after all the work that went into planning and budgeting your trip, but Yoon Jeonghan’s presence is like salt on the wound. 

Maybe you’d say something snarky if it hadn’t been eight full months since you’d last talked to him. If the anger from your last conversation hadn’t faded over the long months and turned into something more…malleable. Manageable, as if you could ever have associated the word with him, with the feeling that you were swallowing hot coals every time you looked at him. You still remember the last time you talked to him in painstaking detail, and as you realize that fact, the memory comes rushing back, alongside the feeling that you’re going to throw up.

“So...that’s it?” You don’t know if you’re supposed to be nice to him. Exes have never before been an issue for you because you’ve never really had one before. “Joshua breaks his leg, so he sends you over.” Like nothing ever happened between us, you want to say, but your tongue seems to curl up when you try. “As a stand-in?”

The corner of his mouth twitches, and you can tell he’s holding back some words of his own. “Call it what you want, sweetheart,” he says, and you feel like you’ve been slapped across the face.

Part of you knows that he’s just trying to rile you up, but unfortunately, he’s had a lot of practice at it, so it’s working. You find yourself wishing that you hadn’t sent Mina away with nothing more than a short hug and a few words, but ever since you spotted Jeonghan across the parking lot you’ve been feeling about as steady as a salt shaker. Some support right now would’ve been nice.

Your fingers unclench from around the phone. There’s two ways this could go—the good way, in which both of you pretend that nothing ever happened, or the bad way, and you don’t even know what the worst case scenario could be. Jeonghan has never been a patient person, but right now, even as you stand silently in front of him after months of no contact, he seems unresponsive. Something hurt and hungry rears its head inside you at his hollow indifference, and you taste a familiar venom at the back of your tongue.

But you’re not going to give him the satisfaction. 

“Why are you doing this?” you ask instead.

Jeonghan shrugs. You’re not sure if you just imagined the tension going out of his shoulders. “I owed Joshua a favor.”

You raise your eyebrows. “You expect me to believe that?”

His lips thin. “Would you believe me if I said it was a big favor?” he asks casually, but his shoulders are tense again.

You’re aware of the intensity with which you’re watching him, and the fervence with which he’s avoiding your gaze. “No.”

“Figured.” He looks away right before you manage to catch the look in his eyes. “Is that all you’re carrying, or…?”

You look back at your olive green suitcase, the handle still pulled out, lying forgotten a couple of steps away from you. You don’t remember having moved towards Jeonghan during the course of your conversation, and you’re surprised enough by the realization that your chest tightens for a second. “That’s all,” you say numbly, and Jeonghan turns to pull open the car door.

“Well, then, we don’t have all day,” he says, gesturing to the seat. You feel a twinge of irritation again, but say nothing, roughly grabbing the suitcase handle and yanking a door open. Asshole, asshole, asshole, you chant in your head. This is going to be the worst drive of your life.

Even worse, you find it impossible to fall asleep.

Somehow, it’s not the noise. Jeonghan doesn’t whistle, and he doesn’t turn on the radio, or try to make small talk that would make you want to tear your hair out. He remains perfectly silent, not saying a single word to you after starting the car, not even an offer to stop by a corner store or for a drink of water. It’s been some time since the loud city faded into empty, expansive grasslands on either side of the highway, but you’re still wide awake.

Maybe it’s the silence that keeps you up, or whatever it is that it implies. You’re on edge, and your mind is churning, struggling between being mad at Joshua or being mad at Jeonghan or being mad at yourself for giving a shit. You’re still so shaken by Jeonghan’s sudden reappearance that you haven’t even begun to process anything else.

I’m going home, you think numbly, but even that thought evokes only a dull response in you. You think about the weeks building up to the summer, the calls with your dad. Your not-so-meticulously packed suitcase lies in the car’s boot, probably collecting dust if you know anything about the state of Joshua’s car. Much like all your dreams of summer. No beers, and no swimming pools, and certainly no Joshua.

You look over at Jeonghan again, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. You must be in a daze, because for a moment, you think about leaning over and nudging him.

What makes seeing him so much worse is that he looks almost exactly the same as he used to. The same hands, the same eyes, even his hair is still bleached the same silvery-white. The first button of his white shirt is opened, revealing a sliver of tanned skin inside. He always wore pressed shirts and sweater vests—and here a venomous thought enters your mind—when he really should be wearing a straightjacket instead.

When you knew him a year ago, he had been beautiful, but it was a beauty that was yours to possess, to kiss and to touch and to hold. He’s still beautiful, but now it’s the kind of beauty that makes him untouchable. The kind that belongs behind a glass pane, like a fragile display made out of cards or glass or papyrus in a museum exhibit that you would stare at with wonder in your eyes, yearning to reach out but holding yourself back knowing that a single touch could send it crashing to the floor. No, you can’t allow yourself to touch him now.

So you cross your arms, tuck your fingers under your biceps, and turn to glare out the window instead.

You switch with him after the first stop at a gas station.

“I’ll be right back,” Jeonghan had told you before heading in, and you’d taken the opportunity to get out and stretch your legs. When he comes back carrying a plastic bag from the convenience store, it takes him a few minutes before he notices standing forlornly in front of a tree.

“What?” he asks, only half curious. It’s a tall three, thick-trunked, with segmented branches that end in spiky gray-green leaves that make it look like a high school rocker with too much hairspray.

“It’s a Joshua tree,” you reply mournfully.

“Oh my god,” he mutters, and you turn to him with an evil look in your eye as you begin the walk back to the car. “He broke his leg, not his neck.”

“Of course it’s all the same to you,” you fire back. Jeonghan unlocks the Corolla with short, sharp movements that show his exasperation, and tosses the keys to you. You catch them, going around to the driver’s seat, as he leans in and pushes against the lumpy plastic bag, trying to make space for it on the dashboard. “A broken leg is pretty painful.”

“More painful for you than him, apparently,” Jeonghan grunts. With a final push, he manages to make the bag stay, and climbs into the car, shutting the door behind him before pulling on the seatbelt. He turns to look at you with his forehead furrowed as the car starts rolling forward. “I thought you wouldn’t want to drive.”

“Why, because you think I’m sulking?” you ask, offense creeping into your voice. Your neck is already coated in sweat, and you’re not sure if it’s because of the weather or just a bodily reaction to your feelings.

“I’d say it’s normal to be upset about your best friend being hurt.” Jeonghan shrugs.

“I’m not upset about that,” you snap. 

“You’re not upset about your best friend being hurt?”

“I am. I just mean—” You break off, irritated. The sweat is now drying because of the hot air coming in through the open tops of the windows, making your skin itch. You just twist your shoulder backwards, unwilling to let go of the steering wheel because if you do, you might just sock Jeonghan in the mouth. “It kind of brings things to a halt. For both him and me.”

Jeonghan leans against the side. “I wouldn’t call one canceled trip bringing your life to a halt.”

Your head is beginning to hurt. “You’re right,” you say testily. “It’s just really fucking inconvenient.”

“Inconvenient?” he echoes. “You get to go home to sweet Joshua. Nurse him through his grievously traumatic injury. It could be a bonding experience, unless you’re bent on calling the poor incapacitated boy an inconvenience.”

“I never—” You grit your teeth, forcing down your rising anger. The heat has begun to crawl like a swarm of fire ants, up your neck and down your back. “I’m surprised he only broke his leg,” you say savagely. “Considering that he thought of sending you in his place, instead of literally anyone else, I wonder how he didn’t get a concussion instead.”

Jeonghan laughs. “All this anger over a little road trip? What exactly were the two of you planning to do, pray tell? I feel like I’m missing out.”

You kiss your teeth, thinking better of responding with another biting comment. Your skin is sweaty and itchy and hot and there’s still a good four hours before you get home. Going at it with him isn’t going to help your mood. You tell yourself that it’s been eight months, you’ve grown, you’ve become a better person. You’re not going to fall for his bait.

Then Jeonghan says, “You could always tour his bedroom.”

In your head, you slam on the brakes, bringing the car to an immediate halt for dramatic effect. In real life, however, you’re painfully aware of how Jeonghan’s lack of a seatbelt would send him flying into the windshield, so you slow down before coming to a rolling stop at the side of the road. Your throat feels like hot lava.

“Really?” the perpetrator asks, raising an eyebrow. “It’s the witless bedroom comment that gets you?”

You clench and unclench your jaw a couple of times, trying to bring your temper down, but to no avail. Your hands on the wheel are unusually tight, as if trying to close into complete fists around it, so you have to forcefully pry your fingers apart before you unlock the door and step out of the car.

Jeonghan copies your movements, getting out of his seat to lean over the hood of the car, his posture suggesting curiosity rather than sympathy. His lips part, no doubt in preparation to say something to push you over the proverbial edge, and warning bells go off inside your head.

“Shut up,” you snap, and he recoils, blinking in surprise.

“I didn’t—”

“Shut up,” you repeat decisively, turning to level your gaze at him like the tip of a sword. “I didn’t ask for you to be an ideal travelling companion, but the least you could do is shut the fuck up.”

Jeonghan says nothing, but his eyes stay on your face, intent and oddly unnerving. You force yourself to look away lest you give away some kind of weakness in your expression—being civil is your best bet to last the duration of the ride, but this is still a push-and-pull. With him, it always is.

“This was supposed to be the last summer we had before graduating and getting jobs and moving to different parts of the country,” you say through clenched teeth. “It wasn’t even going to be that big of a deal—just being on the road for a few weeks with each other for company, having no responsibilities, no destinations, and no deadlines. And then he had to go and fuck himself over, and fuck me over in the process, and now it’s weeks and weeks of work gone to waste, and all I’ve been looking forward to is dust. And on top of that, you had to come in and do what you do best, which is twist everything I say and make me feel like shit about it like it's your god-given right to ruin my life. So, yeah, it’s the fucking—” 

The anger seems to have gone out of you somewhere towards the end, and you feel yourself deflate like a pricked balloon. “And it’s so fucking hot, too,” you mumble, burying your face in your hands. Then, face still covered, you laugh, feeling ridiculous and petulant like a child after throwing a temper tantrum about a broken toy. “Sorry. I’m sorry. It’s not your fault for having to drive me, and it’s not Joshua’s fault for getting his goddamned leg broken. I’m just…” You struggle to find the right words to express your frustration, but ultimately give up. “It’s so hot,” you whisper.

Your face burns, and you’re no longer sure if it’s from anger or embarrassment. It’s unusual for you to lose your composure, but you must have been more affected by this than you had imagined. Or maybe it’s just Jeonghan bringing out the violence in your emotions again.

Speak of the devil. Jeonghan steps around the front of the car and comes to a stop in front of you, hands very still at his sides, yet tensed as if they’re about to move. Suddenly you feel very tired, and very, very small.

“Let me drive the rest of the way.” His tone is gentler than you expected, but you’re still not brave enough to meet his eyes. He hesitates, like he’s about to say something else, but then his lips press into a thin, concerned line. You remember that expression from years ago, his eyes warm, a hand reaching over to curl around yours. Now, it just feels alien.

“Get some rest,” he finally says, and you don’t have the heart to fight back.

It’s been half an hour, and you still haven’t said a word to each other. Whatever pretense of cordiality you thought could be preserved is gone—if it had even existed in the first place—and the tension in the air is thick enough that you could carve something out of it. You’re beginning to get a little tired of the silence, now that the noise in your head has begun to quiet down just enough so you can actually think.

At least he’s turned the air conditioner on, which is a small mercy. You don’t know how you forgot about it before, but it probably had something to do with your rising irritation and the complete lack of awareness due to your blinding rage. Maybe if you’d just retained enough sense to turn the stupid freaking air conditioner on, you wouldn’t have had a loud, embarrassing breakdown in the middle of the freeway.

“I can hear your internal monologue from all the way over here,” Jeonghan says, making you start. It’s almost as if he actually can hear every single one of your thoughts—which shouldn’t be so surprising, considering your history. Your heart’s startled palpitations turn into a painful squeeze. “Stop thinking so hard and get some sleep.”

“It’s not like I’m not trying,” you mutter. “I’m just…restless.”

“Can’t wait to get home?”

You scoff. “Yep,” you say, dragging the syllable sarcastically. “Can’t wait to get home.”

Jeonghan catches your eye in the rearview mirror. There’s something quietly thoughtful brimming behind his eyes, and although you can’t quite put your finger on why, it makes you sit a bit more easily. It could be that you’re glad he isn’t too mad at you—people pleaser that you are—but it’s more likely that the look is…familiar. Familiar enough that relaxing in reaction to it is an instinct your body hasn’t gotten rid of just yet. Fucking biology. “We don’t have to go home if you don’t want to,” he says with pretend nonchalance, looking away.

You laugh, a little sadly, and uncross your arms to rub your hands down your biceps. “Where else am I supposed to go?”

It’s quiet for another moment. This time, it’s you who can almost hear the gears turning in Jeonghan’s head. You can’t help but anticipate what he’s going to say. “I don’t know,” he says, voice so muted that you have to look at his mouth to make sure you can correctly make out what he’s saying. “Where were you planning to go with Joshua?”

Your breath catches in your throat. “No,” you say firmly right as he asks the question, your voice a little rough and more than a little hoarse. You’re sitting stock-still now, like you touched a live wire and have been electrified in place. “Don’t even think of going there.”

He shrugs, and you can see the slightest hint of tension in his neck muscles when they flex with the movement. “If we take the highway, there’s a motel about half an hour from—”

“Don’t,” you say through your teeth. He’s still not looking at you. “Jeonghan, stop it.”

“Two days,” he says, unrelenting. His eyes finally flicker to yours, and you feel something stutter in your heart when you see the first hint of genuine emotion in his expression. The first time in eight months. “If we take the U-turn up ahead and keep going, it takes two days to lead up to the bay. Just two days. We could stay in a bed-and-breakfast, and if you still want to go back after that, I’ll take you home. No stops.”

You swallow back the dry patch in your throat. It feels wrong to see him like this, so eager when he greeted you with all the warmth of an icicle just a couple hours ago in the parking lot behind your apartment building. You know some part of it is because of your unintended meltdown in the middle of the road an hour ago, but the whole proposal reeks of pity.

“Not funny,” you say shakily.

“I’m not joking,” comes the simple reply.

“What’s the catch?” you ask sharply. “Not even half an hour ago you were letting me know exactly what you thought of road trips and risks. Why the sudden change of heart, huh, Jeonghan? If you tell me it’s because you feel guilty, I swear to god I’ll punch you.”

“Well,” he starts, lifting a single shoulder, “I don’t really have anything better to do. And if I take you home right now your mom will definitely make me stay for dinner, which would be awkward for both of us.” He shrugs. “And…maybe I want to spite Joshua. For breaking his leg playing soccer with little kids, and making me come all this way just to pick up an ungrateful little alley cat who could’ve just taken the bus.” 

You lapse into silence for a few moments. Then: “He really broke his leg playing soccer with little kids?”

“Yes,” Jeonghan replies, but not without an eye roll to accompany it. He looks at you then. “So what will it be, sweetheart?”

You know in your heart that there’s only one right answer to that question, and it’s a resounding no.

But then, if you’d been sensible enough to listen to your heart, you probably wouldn’t have ended up five hours away from home in a shitty old college majoring in fucking math of all things. So of course you tell him to turn the car around.

Jeonghan has always been an ass with apologies.

Which is ironic, because ever since you first met him, you’d known that he had the gift of the gab (for lack of a better phrase). His talents had always been in lying and talking and picking exactly the right quote from a classic text to make himself sound smart—which, admittedly, he is. He went from making people pay him to write their college essays and down the natural pipeline to majoring in literature at a fancy place. He’s always been good at making you angry, but you don’t think he’s ever figured out how to make things right. Or care enough to work for it.

So when Jeonghan knocks on the door and you open it to find him with a beer bottle in his hand, you’re only slightly surprised to see it. 

When he comes in, his eyes go straight to the double bed. He steps inside the room (at the first motel you’d seen which advertised running hot water, which makes no damn sense anyway because it’s over a hundred degrees outside and neither of you is taking a hot bath anytime soon, but whatever). The blades of the ceiling fan spin lazily, barely even disturbing his hair.

“The speed for the fan doesn’t go beyond three, and the air conditioner only works between seven and seven,” you inform him as you sit back on the bed, your suitcase open on the mattress in front of you. 

Jeonghan nods, and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing. He’s probably not used to this kind of place at all, but if you’re going on the road with him, you’re not pulling your punches. You’re happy enough with the arrangements yourself, being accustomed to living in even worse conditions. His description of you as an ungrateful little alley cat wasn’t far from the mark. It could always be worse, but you don’t tell him that.

You’d decided against calling your parents—or Joshua—to inform them about your change in plans, and had instead chosen a few simple texts to convey the information. They trust you enough to deal with your last-minute changes, but you know that there’s going to be a lot of questions about your choice of companion when you get back. Those questions, however, you can confidently avoid thinking about at least until you get back. And as for Joshua—he should’ve known better, you think primly. 

“I’m sorry,” Jeonghan says suddenly, breaking you out of your reverie. The beer bottle sits guilty in his grip. Gotcha, you think. “For riling you up in the car. Being around you kind of triggers my fight or flight instinct, and I’ve never been much of a runner. Heaven knows my dad tried, though.”

You half smile in acknowledgement. His expression is awkward, which makes your smile widen. The apology in no way makes up for your history, but now that you're already halfway through your decision, you decide to put him out of his misery and call a truce.

Leaning forward, you take the beer he offers you, raising it in his direction like a salute. “You’re good enough with words to make up for your lack of athletic ability,” you say, making the corners of his lips curl up. “And the pen is mightier than the sword, as they say. Care for a sip?”

He shakes his head no. “Can’t blame you,” you say, nodding sagely as you casually uncap the bottle with your teeth. “Beer does taste like piss when warm.”

“Or cold. Or room temperature,” he says. “I don’t know how you manage to keep it down.”

“Needs must.” You grin, patting the empty space on the mattress next to you, and he indulges your request. “So, I was thinking about what you said,” you start, taking a square of paper from between folded clothes and books in your unzipped suitcase, and unfolding it. “I’ve been going over the route Josh and I picked out for the trip, but I thought of making some changes.” You run your fingertips over a squiggly blue line marked on the map, and tap a spot outside it. “We could visit the museum. Take a meandering route, make a few stops here-and-there before we actually get to the bay.”

Jeonghan peers over your shoulder. “That’s about eight hours from here.”

“Mhm,” you say, putting the lip of the bottle to your mouth and taking a gulp. You make a face as you swallow. “Damn. I thought it was kind of clichéd, but warm beer really does taste like piss.”

“I did warn you.” He’s stiffened a bit. You sniff the air, wondering if something stinks. 

“Well, uh,” you mutter under your breath, and bring the bottle back up to your lips with slow, careful motions. “We could make a few pit stops over here, and go to the shore later. Then there’s the wharf.” Your fingertip moves over the map.

Jeonghan looks at the spot you’re pointing at. His gaze shifts to your hand, then up over your arm, all the way to your bared shoulder—which you realize is mere inches from his face. 

He’s stopping breathing, as if afraid to exhale on your skin. You open your mouth to make a joke, but it dies in your throat. Your mouth remains open, no words coming out. Jeonghan lifts his eyes up to yours, and you feel your heart jump. The scent of green apple shampoo envelopes you.

Something thumps on the roof above. Jeonghan looks up, and you take the opportunity to nimbly shift away. “Do you think that was a rat or a person?” you wonder aloud.

“I’m not sure which I’d rather have it be,” he answers, getting to his feet. You look up at him, the beer bottle in your hand barely empty, but you’re already feeling lightheaded. “Dinner?”

Dinner is uneventful. You usually hate forcing pointless conversations, but now you find yourself broaching all kinds of topics from the weather to the food to the ketchup stain on the waiter’s apron.

Jeonghan is polite, laughing at the right moments and nodding along when you need him to listen, but you feel fidgety on the worn leather seat that you normally would have sunk comfortably into. The long-drawn conversation makes you feel like you’re talking to a stranger, not someone you’ve known for the most part of your life. Not for the first time, you mourn a friendship that has seemingly dissolved after your break-up.

By the time the two of you walk back, it’s almost ten. You pass under more than a few flickering streetlights, but they are more than made up for by the neon signs that begin to light up after dark.

When you get back to the room, all you can think about is the double bed. How convenient, you think to yourself, more than a little miserably when you think back to the tiny moment you shared while looking over the map. While you’ve moved on from Jeonghan, your body clearly hasn’t, if the way it reacted to his scent is anything to go by. And you have moved on. Why else would you be so comfortable basically running away with him?

“I hope the lock works,” Jeonghan mutters to himself as he locks the door for the night. You’re less confident, so you zip your bag back up and push it flush against the white door, propping the handle against the top.

Your phone rings, and you take it out, checking the caller ID. Joshua. You look up, and find Jeonghan looking at you, his face blank. Feeling unsettled, you reject the call, and put your phone away.

Now that it’s just the two of you with no dinners or strangers or ketchup stains to distract your conversations, the two of you fall into a pregnant silence. Jeonghan thumbs the collar of his shirt idly, looking at the bed with a glazed-over expression. You sidle by the bed and place a pillow in the middle, then stand back to survey your work.

“It looks like a face,” Jeonghan says.

“We can share the blanket,” you allow. For all the burning heat of the mid-afternoon sun, you know that the nights in the desert are cruelly cold, especially so within the paper-thin walls of the motel room. “Do you want to keep the fan on?”

“I’m good.” For some reason, Jeonghan looks ill. “You know…I just realized I don’t have a single change of clothes.”

You take a good look at his current attire, and it’s definitely not an excuse to stare. He’s wearing a plain white shirt, as you noted before. It’s fitted but billows faintly about his frame, making him look like a prince of old. His hair falls in soft blonde waves down to his neck, brushing the very top of his collar, and a few stray strands frame his face. Even though the harsh fluorescent lights draw the color from his face, the sheen of sweat over his cheekbones make them shine. You watch, transfixed, as Jeonghan’s fingers slip from the collar to the undone button, the pad of his thumb shaping the outline of it.

And he’s also wearing jeans. The jeans are reusable, you think, blinking yourself out of your stupor. Get a hold on yourself. But you can already pick out the stained collar of his shirt with ease. “We can go shopping tomorrow,” you suggest, clearing away the thickness of your voice. “Restock your supply of Walmart t-shirts.”

He looks at you with narrowed eyes, and you allow yourself a smile.

When all the blinds are all drawn and the lights turn off, you’re the first under the blankets. The pillow you’d ceremoniously placed down as a barrier between the two of you is flush against your back as you curl into yourself. You feel the mattress dip and the bed frame creak as Jeonghan gets into bed. It feels strange to have him in the same bed again, something you used to yearn for, now something so strange and troubling.

“Neighbors are loud,” he states, his voice muffled. You curl your fingers into the bedspread, and sigh silently before turning on your side so you’re facing him. Sure enough, now that you’re paying attention you can hear party music bleeding in from the room next to yours.

Jeonghan is nothing more than a dark outline against the sparing light that seeps in from under the door. “G’night,” you say softly. Softer than you intended, anyway. You bite your lip and duck your head under the blanket, feeling inexplicably schoolgirlish.

With the way your heart beats in your chest, it sounds almost as loud as the music coming from next door. You’re almost worried about him hearing it, but if he does, he doesn’t betray a thought. There’s no way I’m falling asleep like this, you think to yourself, but it doesn’t take more than a few minutes before you’re at the soft edges of sleep.

“Good night,” Jeonghan whispers back, just as you begin to drift off.

True to your word, the first place you put on your list of shopping locations is the local Walmart.

“You know I intend to wear these newly-acquired clothes outside of this trip, right?” Jeonghan complains as you browse a rack of t-shirts that advertise themselves as being up to fifty percent off! “You’re wasting your time if you think I’m going to spend my well-earned money on anything here.”

“May I remind you, mister, that this whole trip thing was your idea?" you ask, pulling out a tie-dyed shirt that’s a swirl of shades of peach and baby blue, and holding it up in front of his frame with an appreciative hum. “Plus, don’t you feel gross in your sweaty old underwear? This could be the splash of color your wardrobe so desperately needs.”

Jeonghan looks unimpressed. He pushes the tie-dye down, looking over it at you with a shake of his head. “I know better than to trust your choices, even those made with good intentions. And your intentions at the moment are clearly not good,” he emphasizes. “Anyway, this is not the underwear section.”

You raise your eyebrows, and look behind you pointedly at what is, actually, the underwear section. Jeonghan follows your gaze to the display of Fruit of the Loom underwear. “No, nope,” he murmurs. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Too good for Walmart underwear, are we?” You wrinkle your nose, but don't press the issue, moving instead towards another part of the t-shirts section. The tie-dye stays in your hand, though. 

“With underwear, I always believe that what you get is what you pay for,” Jeonghan says, then frowns. “What are you doing?”

You look up, innocent. “These crewnecks are on sale too.”

“That’s because it’s the peak of blistering summer,” he says, exasperated. “No one’s wearing crewnecks.”

“At night, though.”

“I’m not wearing a crewneck to bed.”

You’re about to crack a joke about going on long walks by the beach, but think better of it. Jeonghan looks confused by your sudden surrender, but you’re too busy looking in every other direction possible as a prickly heat crawls up your neck. “You really are a snob,” you mumble.

“I’m not a snob.” He rolls his eyes. “Can we go somewhere else? Anywhere else?”

You glance back, coy. “Anywhere?”

He grimaces. “I take that back.”

“Your wish is my command.” You wave the blue-and-coral tie-dye in the air. “We’re buying this one though. Don’t think for a second I’m gonna let you walk out of here empty-handed.”

For once, Jeonghan doesn’t complain, but he does purse his lips to make his feelings clear. “I guess I could make use of it when I have no clean clothes left.”

“Come on, it’s not that bad.”

He still pays for it—and some clean, much-needed underwear, despite his many complaints—at the counter, and you’re honestly surprised at how civil he's being. You'd thought that it would require a lot more effort to make this whole thing as smooth as possible after the fiasco in the car, but he's been on his beat behavior since then.

Despite your outburst and Jeonghan’s subsequent apology, you’re aware that neither of you have actually broached the reason for this tension. It’s much easier to just not think about the break-up, and act like it never happened, because that’s a whole can of worms right there that you do not wish to open. 

You wish you could unscrew the top of your head and bring your brain out. Give it a good shake to dust off all the stray thoughts you keep having about Jeonghan and your self-control and your relationship, and just let yourself enjoy the ride. Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way.

“We could go thrifting,” you suggest once you’re in the car, and for once, Jeonghan doesn’t seem too opposed to the idea.

The first thrift store you find on the GPS is small and plain-looking, but upon entering the dilapidated, run-down looking building you quickly learn not to judge the book by its cover. Inside, Jeonghan picks up a fluffy hot pink scarf with a wince, and you can’t help but laugh.

“You should try that one on, actually. It matches your mean girl vibe,” you point out, digging through the bin where he found the scarf in question.

“I like mean girl better than snob.” He slings the scarf around his neck. He'd decided to trade in his white button-up for the tie-dye you got from Walmart, but not before proclaiming that it was only because he needed clean clothes to wear. “It sounds more like a phase that way.”

“It doesn’t fit as well though,” you say, bringing out a sequined shirt. “Ooh, try this one. The disco vibes would make you a hit at the local club.”

“Thirty years ago, maybe,” he grumbles, but adds it to the cart. “Can’t you look for something more…”

“Boring?”

“Classy,” he finishes with a pointed look.

You grin. “As my lord pleases,” you announce, and hold up a plain brown t-shirt. Jeonghan arches his eyebrows, looking mildly surprised and skeptical, until you turn it around to reveal the Twilight logo with the faces of the main trio plastered below it. “Doth thou find this to thy liking, good sir?”

There’s an expression of part disgust, part enjoyment (and is that a glimpse of fondness you catch in his eye?) on his face. “Verily, fair maiden. It is to my utmost satisfaction,” he replies, a smile playing on his lips. “And it would be dost, not doth.”

“Very well.” You drop the shirt into the cart and straighten, grin unwavering. “Let us look around.”

He offers you his arm, and you hesitate only a millisecond before taking it. “Shall we?”

You nod, keeping the smile in place. “We shall.”

The two of you end up staying in the store until it closes, losing track of time as Jeonghan models different outfits you throw together—“This one has a dick drawn on the back.” “I know, right?”—and bring to him in the changing rooms. It’s not entirely a waste—he actually ends up finding some decent clothes, which you make him pack into a hello kitty backpack, and you buy the heart-shaped sunglasses that manage to catch your attention. By the time you come out and agree to get an unhealthy dinner from a McDonald’s drive-thru, it’s almost nine, but you’re on a dopamine high that you know is going to keep you up for a long while.

Also, you kind of don’t want to go to sleep. Going to sleep means finding a cheap place to stay, with vacancies, during tourist season, which means you’re probably only going to find a single bed. After all you’ve done to keep an invisible barrier between the two of you today (which is to say: not much) you don’t trust yourself enough to try to risk sleeping in the same bed again.

Jeonghan seems to have had the same idea, so you end up taking mini naps while switching with him to drive all night to the next destination. Most of the night, at least. It’s about four in the morning when you realize you’re beginning to nod off in the driver’s seat, so you pull over and nudge Jeonghan awake.

“I don’t think going on is good for our health,” you tell him seriously.

He’s still half-asleep, but he bestirs himself at your words, rubbing his eyes with the knuckles of a closed fist. “Uh, okay,” he mutters, opening his eyes wide and blinking the sleep out of them. “Why?”

“It’s irresponsible,” you insist. “You know, from a road safety perspective. Also, I almost drove us into a tree.”

That wakes him up quick. “What do you suggest, then?” he asks, sitting up. “Sleeping in the car?”

“Well,” you begin, unsure, “yeah?”

“Are you crazy? We’ll freeze to death.”

“No we won’t,” you whisper back, then clear your throat, not sure why you’re whispering. “Body heat.”

Jeonghan puts his face in his hands for a few seconds, then exhales deeply. “Okay,” he mutters savagely, dragging his fingers down his face. He looks up at you, and there’s a languid sharpness in his eyes that makes you squirm in your seat. “Four hours,” he says. “Don’t complain later if you can’t take it.”

You try for a scoff to hide your discomposure, but end up yawning instead. “Whatever,” you murmur, putting your forearm against the wheel and leaning your face against it. It’s still dark out, and you are freezing a little bit, but the dull orange light that lights up the interior of the car makes it feel slightly warmer. “It’s not like we have anything worth stealing.”

Jeonghan lounges against the passenger seat. He’s still wearing the stupid tie-dye, and the orange of the interior lights have washed out the peach in his shirt. The rest of him is bathed in the same color, making his skin look like it’s been licked by fire. You watch him undo the seatbelt buckle with hooded eyes, curling your fingers around the steering wheel to contain yourself. Even as he climbs into the backseat, you don’t move, eyes still fixed on him. 

Would you have reached for him if you didn’t remember every word he said that day? Maybe you should talk about what happened, to clear the air at least. You try to think of how that would go. Jeonghan, you would start, about what happened—

“Are you coming or not?” Jeonghan asks. He leans forward, beckoning you with a crooked finger, and your gaze glides over the collarbone that peeks out from just below his neck. His voice is breathy and low, making something twang in your gut. You pull yourself up quickly, and follow him before you can change your mind. Jeonghan pulls out a few of his clothes from the backpack to cushion the seat. The space is small, cramped, and smells like cheese, but you think about none of those things except the heat of his body against yours. This is, undoubtedly, the most terrible idea you’ve had so far.

“This is a terrible idea,” you voice, as he pulls an oversized shirt over your legs and leans back. You’re not half as sleepy as you were mere moments ago. The comfort is so deeply unsettling that you feel like you’d rather nap in a bush.

“As I said,” he murmurs, gaze darting to your lips for a millisecond. You gulp. He looks like he’s made of honey and marmalade. “Do you want to turn off the light?”

“So passer-bys don’t think we’re fucking in the back of the car?” A nervous laugh bubbles up your throat like an uncorked Coke bottle, the regret following the words as soon as they come out. You glance up at him, pulse jumping, but his eyes are already closed. “Oh. Um. I’ll turn them off.”

It doesn’t take long for Jeonghan’s breaths to even out, but you lie awake for a long time, listening to your own heartbeat. It’s long past ten a.m. before either of you wakes up.

You spend the next few days doing what you do best—wasting time. This was what you’d planned originally, doing absolutely nothing and deciding destinations on the road, but it was supposed to be with someone who knew you well. While you have no doubt that Jeonghan had managed to puzzle out every part of you before, you're no longer the same pedantic, rule-abiding perfectionist that he probably remembers. You think you’ve changed a lot since you last saw him, and since a major part of that owes itself to him not being in your life any more, you don’t know how to adjust your relationship to that change.

There’s a day you spend most of at a microbrewery, where you manage to snag a guided tour to the home brewing process and Jeonghan develops a taste for fruit beers. Another where you trek up the mountains at a national park just to watch the sunset, sitting on a rock with your sore legs and sharing an artisanal. Once you spend the whole day at the pier.

“There.” You point at a highway, licking the side of your strawberry ice cream (Jeonghan takes the mint). “That’s the road I took while following this stupid underground band on their tour. Didn’t even like them that much, but these guys convinced me, and it turned out to be kind of fun. Sort of like a grown-up camping trip.”

Jeonghan squints at where you’re pointing, then shakes his head. “So that’s why you were so confident about sleeping overnight in a car in the desert.”

“S’not that bad.” You shrug. “I thought it would be like a new experience, you know, and that’s where I got this idea about the road trip in the first place. I don’t think Joshua expected me to suggest something so…careless.”

He’s silent for a long moment. You glance at him sideways, and clutch the bear plushie you won at the ring toss. “Do you ever miss it?” he asks at length.

“Never,” you reply quietly. Maybe you haven’t changed as much as you thought.

Every location is fun at first before your not-relationship gets in the way, slowly chipping away at your sanity like a heavy-handed ax. You swear you’ve barely touched alcohol, but soon the days begin to blur together, and by the time you get anywhere near the beach you don’t even know what day it is.

Saturday, your phone says.

You swipe ignore on Joshua’s sixteenth call in the past few days, this time not even bothering to shoot him a text in its stead. It’s late in the afternoon, and you’re lying on your stomach on an extremely soft mattress in a fancy hotel, ankles crossed in the air as you read an old copy of Gone Girl that you borrowed from Mina in case you got bored. 

Or you were reading it. You press your lips together as you finish reading the same paragraph for the seventh time without actually absorbing any of it, and sigh. Jeonghan reaches over and flicks the cover before leaning back. “Female rage, huh?” he asks, settling back against the pillows. “Should I be concerned?”

The colors of the sunset seep in through the slits between the blinds. You look up at him, noting his watchful gaze, the controlled set of his mouth. Somehow you feel more resentful than wary. “I don’t know.” You roll onto your back and jut your chin out, looking at him upside down. “Should you?”

He doesn’t give up. “Are you angry?”

Your fingers coil more tightly around the book. You match his stare for another second before propping yourself up on your elbow and going back to the text. “No,” you reply after a second, still with your back to him.

“I think you are.”

You throw your head back, irritated, and set the book back down on the bed. “Why would I be angry?” you ask, turning your face in his direction. “I’m just tired. That’s all. It’s too hot to do anything anyway, we can just go out after the sun goes down.”

Jeonghan doesn’t seem convinced, but he doesn’t push you on the subject, and you’re relieved. The truth is that you’ve been feeling irritated and guilty and rash ever since you woke up, but don’t want to give yourself the chance to do something stupid.

“Where do you want to go today?” he asks instead.

You frown, squeezing the bridge of your nose between a forefinger and thumb. “I don’t know,” you repeat. “Maybe nowhere. Do nothing.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “What were you planning to do with Joshua?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, all of that went out the window the second he broke his damned leg,” you snap. Then you pull back with a wince. “Shit. Sorry. I think I’m getting a headache.”

He doesn’t say anything, only offers you a glass of water, which you accept with a quiet thanks. It’s not going to help, though, you know that; your headache has deeper roots than that. The water is lukewarm, and you gulp the water down, spilling half of it over your mouth and down your shirt. “Maybe we can go somewhere you want,” you say, pursing your lips into the best smile you can muster. “You know, this was for the both of us.”

“I know,” Jeonghan replies, monotonous. “You’re getting a nosebleed.”

“What? Oh, fuck.” You hurriedly put the glass down on a side table and head to the washroom. Sure enough, when you look into the mirror, your upper lip is coated in crimson.

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself again, and bend over the basin. The sound of running water almost drowns out Jeonghan’s footsteps, so you jump a bit when you hear his voice.

“Let’s go to a club,” he says. You straighten, holding a napkin to your nose, and glance back at him. He’s leaning against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest. “Sounds like you need to get drunk,” he says, shrugging.

Your lips part. “Okay.” You turn and grab another napkin. “Sure, yeah, let’s go.”

The teeming throngs of people seem to envelope you, like a piece of paper folded over and over. The air in the nightclub is stale but cold, with undercurrents of sour sweat and sweet coke syrup. You wouldn’t call yourself a stranger to this scene, but for some reason, it feels foreign.

You weave your way through the crowd on the dance floor, an untouched glass in your hand. Although the whole ordeal had been Jeonghan’s idea, he’d disappeared less than ten minutes after you came, no doubt off buying pretty girls drinks. Being seen with you would probably ruin his night, but at least someone’s living their single life to the fullest.

You, on the other hand, have not been having fun at all. It’s not entirely unexpected, since the whole reason you’d said yes to the idea was because you’d felt bad about snapping at him. Usually, you go drinking to unwind after a stressful week, but today you just can’t seem to get into it. You suspect it’s because you’re alone. The music is loud and heavy and while you remember noting that it’s one of your favorite songs, all you can hear right now is the bass. You feel it in your skull and your teeth and jarring all up your sciatic nerve, sending little jolts through your spine. If you didn’t have a headache before, you’re definitely close to getting one now.

Someone brushes past you, and you almost spill the drink in your hand all over the dress. Annoyed, you turn to snap, but they’re already gone by the time you’ve turned around. You sigh, massaging your temple with your free hand, and sit down at the first table you see, placing the glass with the red drink sloshing around inside. The pulsating lights make the surface of the liquid flash, turning it orange and pink and even green. You don’t even remember what it is supposed to be.

With a deep sigh, you pull the glass off the table and nurse it in your lap, head dropping from exhaustion. Maybe if you had someone to dance with you, but your choleric disposition has a habit of chasing people away, and tonight you’ve dialed it up by about a hundred.

A shadow looms over you, blocking the lights, and the color winks out of the drink in your lap. You look up with a glower, ready to chastise what is undoubtedly another hopelessly drunk guy looking to hit on single girls, but falter when you manage to make out the man’s features.

Jeonghan’s blonde hair looks lilac in the lighting. His hands are in his pockets, and he’s got that white shirt on again, but the lights have bled into it like with your drink, turning it different colors. For a moment, neither of you move, him looking down at you and you matching his stare from the seat.

“Are you drunk?”

You shake your head mutely.

If he doubts your honesty, he doesn’t show it. “Wanna get out of here?”

It’s stupid, but you feel bad. You’ve never known him to be into the whole party scene, but maybe he’s gotten different hobbies since you split up, and you feel like you’re taking that away from him. “Don’t you want to stay?” you ask, setting the glass on the small table. “I know the way back.”

He offers you a small smile. “You know how I feel about places like this,” he answers as you prepare to leave. Then why did you suggest it in the first place? you want to ask, but dare not utter a word. “Well then—” He offers you a hand, the smile softening— “my lady?” 

His voice is low, but you hear it like an arrow singing through the noise. “As my lord pleases,” you murmur with an incline of your head, a smile creeping onto your lips as you take his hand.

Jeonghan tugs you through the crowd, his grip gentle yet firm. You pull yourself closer to him, marveling at how the sea of people seems to part before him, like he’s a warm knife going through butter. “You should’ve told me if you didn’t want to come,” he yells back at you.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to,” you explain, wrapping an arm around yourself as the two of you step out into the night air. It’s much colder outside even with the crowd, and you barely manage to suppress a shiver. “I thought it might be—fun.”

“But it wasn’t?”

You shake your head stiffly, shoulders raised against the late night chill. It’s only then that you realize your right hand is still intertwined with his, with you almost hanging off his arm. Flushing, you extract it quickly, folding your arms across your chest. “Let’s just go back to the hotel.”

You can’t see his face, but you imagine him burning holes into the side of your face. But he only nods.

Back at the hotel, you lean against the basin in the washroom, staring at yourself in the foggy mirror. Your face looks back at you from the parts where you wiped off the mist with the heel of your palm, smokey-eyed, your makeup smudged. The cold ceramic seems to cut into your hands, but you’re grateful for it.

With the bathroom door left ajar, you can hear Jeonghan in the connecting room. “Sorry about ruining your night,” you offer with the most apologetic tone you can summon, but your heart feels as numb as your fingertips. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you hear him say, his voice feeling like it’s coming from a tunnel. You know exactly what’s gotten into you though. 

You swallow against the hard knot of dryness that has lodged itself in your throat. Your head is pounding, and you feel like something is splitting you apart from the inside, like a block of ice in your chest that refuses to melt. Am I really that cold inside? Throughout this trip, you’ve found yourself wishing multiple times that the distance between you and Jeonghan didn’t feel so great, but now the thought overwhelms you, washing over you like a riptide, and you feel like you’s gotten into you to sea.

You think about just giving in, but you want to preserve some semblance to self respect. Although none of your concerns feel grounded—Jeonghan’s been the perfect gentleman since after you broke down on him. The memory of your last argument eight—now nine—months ago, his harsh words cutting you down, they all feel so far away. So unreal. You wonder if you imagined breaking up.

“I shouldn’t act so immature, right?” you wonder aloud, and spin around to face him. Jeonghan’s standing just outside the bathroom, fiddling with the cuff of his shirt, and blinks at your question. “I mean, we’re not in high school anymore.”

His brow twitches, like he’s about to frown. “You’re not acting immature.”

You feel slightly hysterical. There’s exactly one thing you want from him—a reaction. Even though you know it’s only going to make things worse. “You don’t think so?” you ask, very quietly.

The frown finally manifested itself on his face. “Are you drunk?” he asks again, enunciating each word slowly and carefully.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Jeonghan.” There’s a wild edge to your voice that has him tilting his head. “Why are you so—so—” Blank. Unaffected. Maddening. “Calm?”

The frown flickers away, and once again, he goes back to looking as unemotional as an alabaster statue. Just as beautiful, driving you insane with a feeling that you can’t quite put into words. “What would you rather have me be?”

One second you’re leaning against the doorframe, fingernails gouging into the wood, and the next second you’re on him, reaching out like you’re about to claw his face off. Before you know it, you’re kissing Jeonghan with all the viciousness of a bite. 

Your hands grip his shoulders, then slide up to his neck and down to his upper back. You can feel his shirt creasing where your nails dig into it, so desperately that you think they might leave crescent-shaped scars. “What do you think?” you hiss into his ear as he stumbles, stepping back to steady himself, his hands coming to your hips. You lean into him, returning to his lips, and then he’s kissing you back.

Jeonghan slides his hand over the diaphanous material of your dress, reaching up to slide into your hair, deepening the kiss. His other hand grips your waist, pulling you as close to himself as humanly possible. His arm crushes you against himself as his lips part against yours, kissing you like he was breathing from you, as desperate as if he were drowning.

It’s as if he’s come alive under your touch, so different from the unemotional front he’d displayed just seconds earlier. His hands roam your body, exploring, tracing, remembering. You open yourself to him, letting every doubt and second thought be washed away by the tide of emotion that rages inside you. Jeonghan tastes like strawberries, his lips soft and sweet, and you feel like putty in his hands, but you still manage to push him into the bed. You’re in his lap now, legs on either side of him, slowly and teasingly tracing the roof of his mouth with the tip of your tongue.

Jeonghan’s hands travel up your waist to your breasts, and you press your lips to the junction of his jaw and neck, right over the pulse. He moans into your mouth, and you feel hot all over—the good kind of hot, the kind that makes you feel like you’re standing in his fire, sweating harder to feel more keenly the wind against your skin. It starts in the pit of your stomach and spreads to your core, your chest that’s flush against his, your hands as you pin his shoulders to the mattress. You kiss him again, hands moving to his chest as you start to unbutton his shirt.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jeonghan breathes, covering your hands with his. You make an impatient noise at the back of your throat, but pause, pushing yourself up so you’re straddling him. “You’re not drunk.”

You give him a black look.

“Okay, okay.” His breaths are coming in pants, each as ragged as the last. “I…I don’t have a condom—”

“I do,” you cut him off in the middle. He gives you a questioning look, and you huff. “I was going to get laid, okay? One way or another.”

His lips part, and for a long moment, no sound comes out of them. “Are you sure?” he asks lamely.

You stare at him, flabbergasted. “What do you think?” you demand again. He’s such a sight under you, with a half-unbuttoned shirt and swollen lips, that you’re having trouble stringing words together. “Jeonghan—I don’t know what it is that’s holding you back, or—or if you just don’t want to have sex with me, but—”

“Not like this,” he interrupts. There’s a softness to his voice, even as he looks up at you with heavy-lidded eyes. Your hand twitches where it’s lying on his chest. “I mean. You’re not in the right state of mind—”

You’re incredulous. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, Jeonghan,” you say, petulance creeping into your voice as you struggle to maintain your composure. “I’m upset and frustrated and I really need this, okay?” Your voice cracks just slightly, but it’s enough for the air to get knocked out of him. 

Some part of you tells you not to do this. To apologize, maybe laugh it off with a shitty joke about getting rid of the tension, act like you don’t want to open him up and climb into him. Sex has never been the solution to your problems. But you’re on a mean bad decision streak, so you just bite down on your lip, swallowing your feelings.

“Please touch me,” you whimper, and Jeonghan takes in a sharp breath, briefly closing his eyes before moving to oblige. 

His hands go back to your waist, but this time he flips your positions. He grasps the hem of your dress, and you stretch your arms, letting him tug it up and off your frame. You watch as his eyes rove over you, and his pupils darken, swallowing the warm brown of his eyes. Jeonghan leans down next to your ear, and you feel the dent in the mattress next to your head where his palm presses into it.  “Remember,” he says, as your stomach flutters weakly, “you asked for this.”

Jeonghan’s knee nudges yours to part your thighs, and the next thing you feel is two of his fingers pressing against the already-damped seat of your panties. “Didn’t expect to be so wet already,” he murmurs, and your face heats up like he toom a match to it. “Is that what you meant by frustrated?” Wordlessly, you arch against him, eager. “Hips,” he commands, and you raise your hips to allow him to pull your panties down your legs, where you agitatedly kick them off your ankles.

You suck in an anticipatory breath as his fingers push against your unclothed core. He doesn’t even need to look for your clit—the pad of his thumb is pressed against the bundle of nerves a second later, rubbing circles into it. You screw your eyes shut and throw your head back, clenching your thighs around his arm. “Oh god,” you gasp. “Oh god oh fuck—”

You cut yourself off with a sharp inhale to grab his forearm, digging your fingers into it as he flicks a finger against your clit. “You’re so sensitive,” Jeonghan remarks, a smug smirk painted on his face. “Always were. That’s what made playing with you so much fun.”

You open your eyes just to narrow them at him, panting. “Oh, finally, there he is,” you drawl breathlessly. “The resident devil of—Jeonghan!”

He has the gall to laugh as your entire body jerks in response to his middle finger pushing past your folds and into your heat. “Admit it. You like me better that way,” he counters, adding another finger inside you. You arch your back, sucking his fingers deeper inside your cunt as he curls the digits in your core.

“I did admit it,” you breathe. It’s astounding, how quickly the two of you fall back into the familiar play, trading words back and forth like you’ve been doing this all your life. His thumb swipes down against your slit, collecting your wetness and massaging it back into your clit. You buck against his hand, mewling. “Fuck, Jeonghan, pleasepleaseplease—”

Watching him like this, you suddenly remember that no matter how mild-mannered he may seem to the untrained eye, Jeonghan is neither calm nor reserved. He is sanguine, a hunter in the night, smelling blood from a mile away. And you've always been his favorite plaything.

“There’s a good girl,” he praises, but his fingers pull away a second later. You bemoan the loss of the friction, desperately rubbing your aching thighs together for any sort of relief. Jeonghan’s fingers dig into the inside of your thighs, prying them apart firmly. You begin to protest, but he quells you with a look. “But I can’t let you have it just yet.”

You’re panting. “Fuck you.”

He only smiles. “Condom.”

You gesture towards the bedside table with a tilt of your chin. “Second drawer,” you choke out, feeling like someone’s set a fire to the base of your brain, cutting off your ability to form coherent thoughts. Jeonghan retrieves it, waving the small square packet in the air as if to further provoke you. You settle back onto the sheets, waiting for him to put it on, but instead he leans his weight back against you, playfully nipping at your collarbone. You grit your teeth, grabbing the front of his shirt.

“You can be such an asshole sometimes, you know that?” You hiss, and start unbuttoning his shirt hastily. 

“Well, I tried being nice, and you hated that,” he murmurs against the base of your throat, sending vibrations through your sternum. You fling open his shirt, and he takes it off fully, balling it up and throwing it to some dark corner of the room. “Aren’t you hurrying too much?” he says, but when you roll down against his hips, the bulge straining against the seat of his pants is unmistakable.

“Aren’t you talking too much?” you fire back, and he chuckles. You hear the sound of the packet tearing and the subsequent unzipping of his pants. Jeonghan rubs the head of his cock against your slick heat, almost making you sob, and pushes it in.

Your fingers claw against his back when he slowly rolls his hips into yours, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. “I forgot how good you felt,” he rasps, sidling his hands under your arms and pulling them off him. The heel of his palms skims your forearm, reaching up to meet your wrist. When he presses his fingertips against the palm of your hand, you open up to him like a flower in bloom, letting him twine your fingers with his in a slow, decisive motion.

The head of his cock brushes against your sweet spot, and your mind goes blank with bliss. Jeonghan says your name like a prayer as he pushes deeper into you, harder, and the feeling of hot-and-cold pleasure stirs in your abdomen. His pace quickens, hips snapping faster against yours, and you begin to feel dizzy and delirious. 

You gasp his name, and he shudders as he breathes out, all but falling against you. His fingers tighten around yours as he moves, the tip of your nose nudging his, his forehead cool and damp with sweat where it meets yours. He draws your orgasm out, still fucking into you as you reach your climax. You call out his name as you ride out your high, and his face twists with desire so devastating that it looks almost like pain. He thrusts into you once, twice, only a few more times before he comes, almost collapsing on top of you when he finishes. The pent-up frustration is gone, you realize as you lie in bed and stare up at the ceiling, along with the misery and confusion and anger. 

You clean yourself off in the bathroom in silence, as he wipes off your makeup with a gentleness that you’d almost forgotten. Neither of you speak, but the silence is heavy and comfortable like a winter blanket. A voice at the back of your head is screaming at you about consequences, but it’s small and tin-like and easy enough to tune out in the face of Jeonghan’s lips brushing against your temple.

Plenty of time for regret in the morning.

And, oh boy, does the regret hit like a fucking truck.

You’re the first one up, waking to the feeling of soft blankets on your bare skin and Jeonghan’s sleeping face just inches from yours. Startled, you sit up, the strap of your bra slipping off one shoulder.

Then you’re slipping off the covers and making a beeline for the bathroom, stopping only to grab your phone off the bedside table before locking the door behind you. You lean against it heavily as your legs seem to give out, breathing hard as if you just woke up from a nightmare. 

You slept with your ex last night. The one thing your friends with active dating lives told you never to do. And it was all your idea.

Fuck.

Still trying to steady yourself, you sit down heavily on the edge of the toilet seat, placing your head in your hands. It was a stupid decision, and you know that—hell, you’d known that going into it—but now it’s time to deal with the aftermath. Jeonghan himself is going to wake up in no time, and you don’t even want to think about how he’s going to react.

You try to think of someone smarter than you, but after your actions last night, the bar proves to be pretty low. Your first thought is Joshua, but you feel even more like shit when you think of calling him, so reject that option out of hand. Someone who’d know what to do, you think to yourself as you shakily dial the number on your phone, fingers trembling.

She picks up on the fourth ring. “Hey, girliepop,” Mina greets in a bright, peppy voice, as your shoulders sag with relief. “I feel like I haven’t heard from you in ages. What’s up? How’s home?”

You don’t waste a second. “I did something really, really bad.”

A pause. “Do you need help hiding a body?”

“What? No. I slept with Jeonghan.” You cover your mouth, briefly closing your eyes. Saying it out loud makes it sound even worse. “I’m so screwed.”

“The hot ex-boyfriend? Oh, honey, don’t worry, that’s a mistake we all make at least once in our lives,” she says sympathetically. “Were you drunk?”

You squint. “No…”

“Okay,” she says slowly, and you wince. “Do you…want to do it again?”

At that, you pause. Do you want to do it again? You hadn’t even thought of it before this. “I mean…” You trail off, doubtful. “The sex was pretty great, but…”

You can imagine her twirling a lollipop stick between her fingers, sucking thoughtfully on the candy. “I don’t know, I’m gonna need a lot more context,” she asks finally. “Why did you guys break up? How long were you together? What kind of person is he? It depends on a lot of things.” Another pause, and you can almost see her raising her eyebrows at you, like, well? “You gotta give me something to go on here.”

You try to think of an answer, but every thought feels muddled, like you’ve reached peak brain capacity. “Um,” you start, haltingly, “we have a lot of history, I guess.”

She hums, which sounds like a muted buzz through the line. “Like what? Childhood best friend type of history? On-and-off kind of history?”

You close your eyes, focusing intently. “Um…well…we have known each other since we were in grade school. And we dated for most of high school, and almost two years after that. Then we…we broke up in October, last year.”

“Why?”

That’s a loaded question. You pass a hand over your face, trying to think of how you can explain it. You remember there being so many reasons for it, but now that you’re trying to remember them, not a single coherent-sounding explanation presents itself. “It’s complicated?”

Mina tuts. “I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, but I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem is, babe.”

“I’m so confused,” you lament, biting your lip. You try to explain the situation as best as you can, how you decided to ditch your plans and go on a fuckass road trip with your ex. Everything comes out like a barrage: all the doubts you’ve had about your relationship with Jeonghan, the constant second-guessing yourself, all your worries about his inconsistent behavior. By the time you’re done, Mina’s gone silent on the other side. 

She doesn’t say anything for a long time, so you listen to the soft crackling of her breathing mixing with the sounds of traffic coming in through the tiny window on the opposing wall. “Oh, honey,” comes her fizzy voice from the speaker finally. “Now I wish I’d convinced you to go on that blind date.”

You laugh softly. “Yeah. It’s just… Every sensible bone in my body is telling me I’ve made some kind of mistake, that I’ve crossed some invisible line, but it was so easy,” you tell her. “Last night, when we—it felt like old times. As if nothing had ever happened. And now I’m wondering if that’s what I’ve wanted all this time.”

“I almost wish you’d come to me with a murder to cover up, because at least I’d be able to help you then,” she replies. “But if you think that maybe this is what you want, and if he wants the same thing, then you can still work it out, you know? You’re a smart girl. You can figure out what you want.”

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” you murmur, using your pinky to trace a crescent into your bare knee. “But thanks.”

Her grin is crystal-clear in your mind. “I’ve got faith in you.”

“That makes one of us,” you quip, and she laughs as you hang up. 

The call didn’t help much, but you’re glad to have gotten some things off your chest. The narrow walls of the bathroom don't feel so suffocating anymore. All right. You pull your knees up decisively, straightening your spine. It’s my problem to fix now, you think. Even if you don’t feel calm, you have to at least act like you are.

Taking a deep breath, you unlatch the door and step outside, closing it slowly behind yourself. As you’d thought, Jeonghan is already up and dressed. Well, kind of. He has his boxers on, and the shirt from last night, crumpled and still unbuttoned. You stare, frozen in place, as he turns and notices you. A beaming smile spreads across his face.

“I went ahead and ordered room service,” he says by way of greeting. “Considering it’s past twelve and absolutely boiling outside, I thought we might stay in for brunch instead. I hope you like pasta, ” he says, shrugging. Then he notices the look on your face. “Is something wrong?”

You blink slowly, as if coming out of a daze. “Something wrong?” you echo, wondering if you sound as bewildered as you feel. “Something…Jeonghan.”

His eyebrows arch. “Yeah?”

“We had sex,” you say slowly.

“We—yes.” He nods, slowly at first, but then more rapidly, until he looks like a bobblehead. “Yeah, but—I mean, we used protection, and we talked about it before, kind of, and I thought it was fine, you know, because—” He’s rambling. You’re beginning to realize he’s not as nonchalant as he appeared a moment ago. “At least we didn’t have sex very publicly in, in the motel, or the car, or—”

It’s like a strange tranquility has descended over you. Jeonghan swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and he looks anxious. You haven’t seen him anxious in so long.

It feels like the roles have been flipped. You know that’s not quite true, and your poise is only temporary, but at least he’s not giving you unreadable looks every time you try to show vulnerability, tripping you up on your own words. You just hope you’re not going to use this opportunity to do something stupid again.

“Jeonghan,” you interrupt. Mina hadn’t really given you any clear-cut counsel, but it seems her reassurance had been all you needed. “If we’re going to do this, we need to set some ground rules.”

‘No strings attached’ sounds weightless in your mouth, but the words seem to sink like stones into your mind.

Still, now that at least the sexual tension is out of the way, you feel as unburdened as those girls in sanitary pad ads. Jeonghan’s inner navigator must be in touch with his good-for-nothing side, because he turns out to be absolute magic with finding amazing out-of-the-way places. The two of you go off-road for a while, but get lost so you decide to stick to what you could identify on the map. There’s another day spent walking around at a doll museum and pointing out dolls that you thought looked like people you both know.

It feels a bit silly, running around with Jeonghan all the time, but it’s the happiest you’ve been in months. You take baths together, and sometimes you go out for ice cream, and despite some of the lewd activities involved, it feels as sweet and innocent as kids playing house.

After the first time your motel room neighbor bangs on your shared wall to ask you to be quieter during sex, you decide that sticking to places with reliably thick walls is the way to go. That’s how you find out that Jeonghan has developed a taste for long baths.

You’re rummaging around inside your suitcase, looking for the paperback you borrowed from your roommate, untouched since the day you stopped reading it right in the middle. “Jeonghan!” you call, overturning a pair of pajamas. Even in a thin robe, you can feel the heat almost radiating off the floor. “Did you see my book? I’m kind of worried that I left it somewhere.”

No response.

Frowning, you stand, looking at the cream-painted door on the opposing wall. It’s firmly shut, and has been that way for the past hour or so, not a sound escaping from inside. You cross the room and check the handle, not too surprised when it swings open.

One glance inside gives it away. Jeonghan looks at you with displeasure, only his head poking out from behind the side of the bathtub. Well, that and the copy of Gone Girl you’ve been looking for the past half-hour, clasped in a long-fingered hand, his elbow propped against the lip of the porcelain tub. “Do you mind?” the perpetrator asks.

You place your hands on your hips, giving him an unimpressed look. “You’ve been in here for over an hour,” you tell him. “At this rate your body is going to turn into an overripe raisin. Also, that’s my book.”

He turns the book over to regard it. “I thought you weren’t reading it.”

“I wasn’t. Emphasis on was.” You rest your hand on the door handle. “There are other people who want to take a bath, you know.”

“Aw, I was just looking for some entertainment.” He flashes a grin at you. “But if you have a better idea…”

You roll your eyes, but unfasten the robe anyway. Jeonghan’s eyes follow your every move, pupils blown wide. He places a cheek on his arm, eyes half-mast as you slip the robe off your shoulders, letting it pool on the floor at your feet.

“Nothing underneath, huh?” he muses. “Have I been out-maneuvered?”

You ignore that. “Move over,” you say shortly.

“Don’t need to ask me twice.”

(Later, when you’re lying on the bed after having managed to wrestle the book away from him, Jeonghan brushes his fingers against the sliver of exposed skin under your shirt. “Don’t even try,” you warn him, after smacking his hand with the spine of the book.

“I thought you wanted to do something ‘wild’,” he says, making air quotes with his hands. You smack him again.

“Not everything is about sex,” you remind him, not really meaning it.

“‘Everything in the world is about sex except sex.’” he quotes. “‘Sex is about power.’”

You roll onto your side, letting the book fall shut as your forearm hits the mattress. “You’re so full of shit, Yoon Jeonghan,” you tell him, getting a razor-sharp grin in response. But you still let him kiss you a moment later.)

By the time you finally reach the ocean, the air conditioner has been broken for two days, so when you feel the fingers of the first evening breeze sneak in through the lowered top of the window and run themselves through your hair, you almost stop the car there and then.

Jeonghan stops you, reminding you that if you get off you’ll have to walk a pretty long time before you actually get to the beach. You stay put, but when you do get to the beach you’re the first out of the car, standing spreadeagle against the flow to feel the wind on each and every inch of your skin, plastering your clothes to your frame.

“This is so much better than that stupid air conditioner,” you sigh. Jeonghan’s still fishing out that Hello Kitty backpack that contains your towels and sunscreen, so you deign to wait for him instead of going off on your own.

Something pink and plasticky covers your vision. “Here.” He grins, settling the heart-shaped sunglasses on your face. “Now you can finally use these,” he says, and turns to head off.

You fix the sunglasses before following after him. The sand is soft under your feet, shifting to accommodate the shape of your feet as you step over it. You pull your sandals off, tucking your fingers under the bands and opting to carry them at your side so you can feel the grains on your soles.

“I thought there would be more people here,” your not-boyfriend comments.

You look around. A kid is building a sandcastle near a couple that looks over him, turning over buckets to deposit clumps of wet sand to shape them into towers. A bit further away, a head wearing sunglasses pokes out of the ground as its giggling companion packs more sand over the body. Jeonghan’s right; the crowd is tamer than you expected, but it’s probably because it’s getting late and the weather is about to turn icy in no time. 

“I haven’t been to the beach in ages,” he says as you reach the shore. The wind tousles his hair, flapping his shirt around his torso, and he squints against the saline breeze. “Kind of forgot what it feels like.”

You hum contentedly, watching the tiny waves lap at your feet. “When I was a kid, my mom told me I had to dig my feet in before the tide came in, or else I would be carried away by the waves.”

He snorts. “I know. Your mom told me the same thing.”

“Right,” you smile. 

Jeonghan bends to place his hands in the sand in front of him, letting the water wash over them. “Cold,” he says. 

“You know, I did almost get washed out to sea once,” you remember. “Swam too far. There was salty water in my mouth and ears and the ground felt like it was made of hands, trying to drag me down further. My uncle told me that when they finally fished me out, my head was wrapped in kelp. He thought that telling me that would traumatize me, but I just kept swimming out again and again.”

“Stubborn and proud,” he observes. “That sounds like you.”

“Does it?” You grin, bending to scoop some of the water into your palms, and sling it off your fingertips to splash it into his face before he can realize what you’re doing. Jeonghan sputters, stumbling in the sand, and comes up with an indignant hey!

Laughing, you turn to run, and glance back to see him discarding the Hello Kitty bag to chase after you. “It’s the beach, cut me some slack!” you yell back at him. He doesn’t respond, but when he does catch you, it’s around the middle, and his tackle flings both of you into the water, you still laughing. You wrestle unsuccessfully with him for another second before coming up for air, his arms still wrapped securely around your waist.

“No fair,” you complain, but the smile that splits your face is as bright as the sun.

“No fair?” he repeats, expression indignant. “You started it.”

“Okay, but now we’re both wet.” You spit some water out of your mouth. Sure enough, your clothes are drenched, and so are his. Jeonghan staggers to his feet, pulling you up with him. His pale blonde hair is plastered to his forehead, darker where it’s wet, curling at the back of his neck. “And not in the fun way.”

“Who says this way isn’t fun?” He kicks some water at you, and you raise your arms to shield your face. Offering only a glare in retaliation, you turn, wading a little further out so the water is up to your waist. “Are you planning to get washed out again?”

“Hilarious,” you call back without turning. The sun is low in the sky, turning the ocean the colors of fire. Jeonghan comes up behind you and you close your eyes, breathing it all in.

The water tickles your waist where your shirt billows up, and the breeze cuts deliciously sharp on your damp skin, but you only shiver when Jeonghan traces a map on the exposed skin of your back.

You don’t stay in the water for long, dragging yourselves up to the shoreline to make sure you mostly dry off when the sun is still up. Jeonghan’s hair slowly curls as it dries, and he tries to comb the sand out with his fingers to no avail.

“I’m gonna need a nice hot bath after this,” he complains, carding a hand through his hair. “It’s all fun and games going to the beach until you’re digging sand out of your body for the next three weeks.”

“You take a nice hot bath at every opportunity you get,” you remind him, but you share the sentiment. The retrieved backpack swings off one shoulder, slapping against your side with every step. “That was so much fun, though. I wish we’d just come here in the beginning and stayed.”

“Nothing beats hiking for hours up a mountain just to see a yellow ball come up in the sky. You made me wake up at an ungodly hour for that, too.”

“And I’m not gonna apologize.” You stand back in the final rays of the sun, watching it sink into the horizon. Strips of gold glimmer in the blue-green of the water, shimmering like the surface of a polished jewel. “Sometimes I look at the sun on a regular day and wonder how it can do that.”

Jeonghan hums under his breath. His stance is unhurried, shoulders relaxed, hands in his pockets. You lick your lips, feeling the salt sting the raw patches where you’ve managed to break the skin by constantly worrying at it with your teeth.

Now that your mind is beginning to quiet, it’s turning to thoughts of the real world instead. For the last few days, you’ve successfully ignored every single warm tingle or stomach butterfly, every warning sign that came up when you looked at Jeonghan, but casting them aside has only made them weigh heavier on your shoulders. 

It doesn’t have to mean anything, you’d told him, but that had felt more like an excuse. Under the guise of only using each other for sex, you’ve been indulging yourself in far more than that, and it’s plain as day for you to see.

“Jeonghan,” you venture in a hushed voice, and he turns to you quizzically. “Do you ever wonder—do you ever think that you’ve made a mistake?”

Instead of answering, he offers you a lopsided smile and extracts his hand from his pocket, letting it hang in the air next to yours. It’s only your knuckles that brush the back of his hand, but you feel the heat all over—on the backs of your shoulders, north of your abdomen, as a constricting circle around your throat.

“I try not to think too much,” he says, catching your fingers lightly when they graze his. You hesitate, but choose not to pull away. “But I know that’s not your strong suit.”

The sky has gone dark. One by one, the artificial lights switch on, bathing the sand in a pale glow. With his tanned skin and platinum hair, Jeonghan looks like a tallow angel in the light, his mouth a soft rosy line curved into a smile like you’re sharing an inside joke. The breeze flows over the water, lifting his shirt up a shade.

Your heart lurches in your chest, but you manage a smile back. He’s probably right and you’re probably overthinking, but you are as helpless in the face of that knowledge as you were without it. As you murmur and you think too little with numb lips, you can't help but wonder what he’s really thinking. 

Jeonghan thinks this bar is going to be the death of him.

The Shipwreck Tavern must take its name quite seriously, because it smells exactly like how he imagines the interior of a shipwreck must smell—like fish and rotten wood. The place is filled with tough-looking old people, and the bartender must be a wrestler’s grandma, because her arms are as big as his head. Everything inside the pub looks old and feels old, except the new-looking TV that adorns a wall adjacent to the bar, playing a soccer game that seems like the local pastime, judging from the attention it garners among the tavern’s patrons.

There are probably better places the two of you could’ve gone to, but this was the nearest place he’d been able to find with an outdoor shower, and he could’ve sworn he felt a crab in his pants before. Instead of bothering to look for a place to eat, you’d suggested staying at the same place, and he hadn’t known better than to comply.

Jeonghan takes the drinks he ordered from the bar with a nod of acknowledgement, fighting to keep the smile on his face until it’s out of the bartender’s view. As soon as the old lady with the anchor tattoo on her forearm turns her back, he makes a face, turning away from a fellow customer who frowns disapprovingly at his expression. Jeonghan gives him a helpless look, and begins making his way through the crowd to a pool table in the corner.

He knows that you think he’s the more sociable out of the two of you, but he begs to disagree, and the fact that you’re already laughing along with a mean-looking guy with a shaved head is only more proof. You turn slightly to let your eyes glide over the crowd searchingly, stopping when they spot him coming towards you. Something in his chest clenches when he sees your face light up upon seeing him. You wave him over to the table, and he raises the drinks in response.

“You might wanna go slow on these. I think I saw something wiggling in the bottle she poured these drinks from,” he warns as you take the glass from him. You grin, but pay no heed to his warnings, tossing the whole thing back like it’s a regular Tuesday.

“How bad could it be?” Shrugging, you put the drink down and smooth down the front of your skirt, briefly playing with the corner where the slit ends. “Maybe it was like an eel or something.”

“Well, you’re certainly something,” he mutters to himself, raising a disbelieving eyebrow. “Why don’t you go ahead and drink mine too, if you’re so fearless? Might find a shark fin in there.”

“Those are too big to fit in a bottle, silly.” You roll your eyes, taking a cue stick leaning against a corner. “Now let’s get this party started,” you purr, bringing the stick up and across the table and positioning yourself behind it.

Jeonghan shakes his head, but doesn’t try to push down the smile that appears on his face. “Okay,” he sighs, coming around the table to your side, leaning so his face is level with yours. “So you want to keep the stick aligned with your line of sight, and try to aim for the easy pockets first.”

You lick your lips, screwing one eye shut to aim. “You underestimating me?”

“No, it’s just to keep your mood up. Now choose your shot.” You survey the layout of the table once before deciding on a target, arranging your stance to aim accordingly. Jeonghan nods. “Okay, good. Line up, and be careful about the angle.”

Placing the stick’s tip near the cue ball, you bend again. “Like this?”

He reaches over, rearranging your hand that’s splayed against the table so your first two fingers make a bridge. “Balance the cue on top of that,” he says, curling an arm around your waist. His fingertips press against the elbow of your cueing arm, stabilizing it. You shiver slightly as if a cool breeze had just blown through, making his own stomach flutter. “That’s it, like that,” he whispers in your ear, enjoying your reaction as you squirm. “Steady, steady…now try.”

Taking a deep breath, you shoot. The cue ball cuts across the dull green surface, bumping into the black ball and sending it rolling into a corner hole. Grinning, you straighten, pumping a fist in the air. “Nice!”

“Yeah, pretty nice.” Jeonghan nods. “Except we’re playing 8-ball pool, which means if you pocket the 8 ball before all the stripes and solids are gone, you lose.”

A despondent boo erupts from the audience watching the soccer match, exactly in sync with your face as it falls. “You didn’t tell me that before,” you say accusingly. “That’s cheating.”

“Good try though,” he acknowledges, taking a sip of his drink. It tastes just as bad as he’s expected. “And I didn’t cheat, I just withheld information.”

“That’s lying.”

“Tomato-tomato.”

You bring up the cue stick, pointing the polished end at his chest. “I’m about to demolish you,” you challenge.

He grins and takes a stick of his own, tapping it against yours. “Bring it on.”

Jeonghan had intended on leaving the second you were done with your food, but you end up staying for more than a few hours as you keep asking for extra rounds despite continually losing. When you finally agree to leave, it’s way past two, and you walk with a giggly, faintly tipsy stupor so he has to support you all the way to the hotel. 

Instead of falling into bed immediately upon entering the room, you pull him into the bathroom, crashing your lips against his before he has the chance to let a question pass them. Jeonghan closes his eyes, holding you against him as you wrap your arms around his neck, almost dragging him down the floor as you go limp in his arms. Your back hits the wall with a loud thump, but you still don’t let up. “Someone’s eager,” he says as you press kisses along the line of his jaw, settling his hands on your hips.

You let out a soft breath, bunching up his shirt under your fingers. He leans in to kiss you, but you step back, holding him in place. “I was—do you think we should—”

Someone bangs against the other side of the bathroom wall, making both of you jump. “Message received, damn,” Jeonghan mumbles, turning his attention back to you. “Sorry, you were saying?”

You fumble with your words for a second before seemingly giving up, instead smiling brightly. “Nothing. Never mind.”

“Nothing, is it?” He kisses your jaw, and you let out a soft sigh. Your hand drops to his pants, moving to unfasten it, but he stops you. “Shh,” he whispers, brushing his thumb against your lips. “Walls have ears, remember?” he murmurs, as his warm breath fans your face.

You tuck your bottom lip under your teeth, blinking up at him so sweetly that he almost groans. He dips his head, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, the ghost of his smile against your skin. “We have to be quiet,” he says, lips touching the shell of your ear. “If you behave, I’ll make sure you’re well compensated for your efforts.”

Your breath hitches, and you turn your face away, letting out a choking laugh. “Oh yeah? And how are you planning to do that?”

Maintaining eye contact, he sinks to one knee, and slides his hands down from your hips to the back of your thighs. You steady yourself by placing your hands on his shoulders, and he tugs your skirt up, warm palms skimming the cool skin of your thighs. 

“Well, for starters,” he says in a low voice, watching your eyes as they darken, and slips a cold finger just inside the top of the slit in your skirt. “I’m going to make you come on my tongue.”

You watch him with wide eyes, still as a statue. Jeonghan licks a warm line up the inside of your leg, which twitches in response. “Remember, not a sound,” he warns, teeth nipping at your skin. 

“You’re an ass,” you tell him, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

He smiles, and taps at your knee to indicate to you to move it. You swing a leg over his shoulder, adjusting your stance to stabilize yourself. He hooks a thumb into the underside of your panties and pulls it aside, revealing your glistening core in its full glory.

The sight makes his breath catch in his throat. Jeonghan licks his lips, experimentally swiping the tip of his finger along your cunt, and you squeeze his shoulder. “Ticklish?” he asks, and you slide a hand through his hair, giving it an impatient tug. “Always so sensitive,” he tuts, even though the sensation sends a bolt of arousal straight to his dick. “Always had a bite, too.”

“Shut up,” you growl, impatiently pulling his face closer to your core.

“Patience, grasshopper,” he admonishes. He slips the finger between your folds, massaging lazy circles into it, and your grasp on his hair tightens. “Ask me nicely, and maybe I’ll give it to you.”

You grit your teeth, but the pause tells him you’re actually considering it. Your giving up so easily would take all the fun out of it, he decides, and without warning, he tilts his head up and closes his lips around your nub, flicking it with the tip of his tongue.

Your whole body seems to spasm in response, like a puppet that just had its strings pulled taut. Jeonghan grins into your cunt, and increases the pressure on your clit. You whine, rolling your hips against his face, but he holds you in place.

“Not so fast, honey bunny,” he murmurs against your arousal, which only has you straining harder against his hold. “You like that, huh?” he asks, and sinks his index and middle fingers into your hole knuckle-deep. “All those times you called me a silver-tongued devil—how d’you feel about this tongue now?”

As if to prove his point, he laves his tongue leisurely along the entire length of your pussy, making you cry out. “Jeonghan, please,” you moan, and his heartbeat stutters at your desperate pleading. The moment you start begging, he’s a goner. “More—ah—”

He doesn’t even remember that he asked you to be quiet. “Fuck,” Jeonghan snarls, “you know I can’t say no to you, don’t you?” He pulls his fingers out almost entirely, coated in your juices, before thrusting them back inside. He proceeds to bury his face back into your heated cunt, sucking on your swollen clit and finger-fucking you at the same time. You throw your head back, scraping your fingernails against his scalp as he eats you out like a starved man. “No.” he says, pulling away momentarily. “Keep your eyes on me.”

“Ngh—please—” Your words come out in broken moans, but Jeonghan scarcely hears them. He scissors you ruthlessly, stretching you out with his fingers, the other hand leaving dents in your skin where it digs into the soft skin of your thigh. Your orgasm is drawing near, he can tell by the way your walls are spasming around him, so he speeds up his pace, licking and suckling in quick succession, pushing you far past the point of satisfaction. “Jeonghan!”

You come with a cry, your eyes rolling back into your head, back arched against the wall. Jeonghan unlatches his lips from yours unwillingly, pulling back to admire the look on your face, hazy with desire. 

“Fuck,” you breathe once you’ve come down from the high, chest heaving. You let the back of your head fall against the wall with a light thump. “Where did you learn to do that?”

He shrugs with faked nonchalance, grazing your skin with his teeth as he slips your leg from his shoulder. A glint of satisfaction shines in his eye like an ember sparking in a dead bonfire as he gets to his feet. “I’ve been practicing.”

Your shoulders stiffen, and Jeonghan stops in his tracks. “Right,” you murmur, as alarm bells go off in his head. He regrets the words instantly, and moves to take a step towards you, but you’re already turning away and out of his reach, leaning towards your phone that rests precariously on the basin’s edge. “Oh, wow, it’s getting pretty late. I think we should head to bed.”

Jeonghan bites his lip. “Yeah,” he says softly, stepping back to allow you to slip past him and out the door. Stupid, he thinks, licking the remains of your cum from his lips. “I guess so.”

The next morning, after you finished locking the doors behind yourself, you’d come down to the lobby to find Jeonghan flirting with the receptionist.

He had both his elbows on the table, leaning his weight against it as he gave her his best smile, chuckling at some shitty joke he probably cracked himself. She’s pretty, you’d thought as you saw her smile, flushing as she tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear. He said something else to her, and she giggled, but it had died out quickly when she’d spotted you approaching.

To his credit, Jeonghan dropped his smile as soon as he saw you. You’d deposited the keys, thanking the receptionist with the nicest smile you could manage, but even that wasn’t very nice. He hadn’t said anything as you got to the car, and you feel like shit even though you know he doesn’t owe you an explanation.

Stupid, you think to yourself. Stupid of you to forget that this whole thing was going to be over soon, stupid for caring so much and getting hurt despite yourself, stupid for thinking that Jeonghan would share your concerns. And let’s not forget angry: angry for getting so carried away, especially when you pride yourself on being so careful all the time.

The car hasn’t stopped in hours, not even for a gas refill, and you haven’t had a proper conversation since the drive started except for when Jeonghan tried to offer you a soda.

You’re glad you’re driving, because it gives you an excuse to be silent. Focus on the road. Jeonghan has sensed something off with your mood, but he hasn’t tried to ask you about it, and you don’t know whether to be grateful for him respecting your boundaries or mad for not trying hard enough. 

Now that it’s June the skies have begun to turn an angry, burning orange-red before six o’clock instead of remaining a softer bruised purple. You’ve been in the same position for a while although your neck started to hurt some time ago. It’s getting chilly, but not cold enough to roll the window back up, and you’re determined to fill the silence with the whistling wind for as long as you can.

You must’ve jinxed yourself, though, because the silence is broken in seconds. “Just so you know,” Jeonghan starts, tone light and conversational, “I wasn’t flirting with her.”

You tighten your hands around the wheel, staring so hard at the windshield that you’re surprised it hasn’t melted into a puddle of plastic yet. “I don’t care if you did,” you say tersely, trying and failing to sound normal. “It’s none of my business.”

“I was just asking her if she knew any places we could stay nearby,” he continues, instead of giving up. “And as it turns out, there’s this really great—”

“Actually, I think we should go home.” You cut him off demurely, not taking your eyes off the road in front of you, even though there isn’t another vehicle in sight. “My parents are probably worried about where I’ve run off to, and I’ve been kind of a shit friend to Joshua recently.”

Jeonghan’s mouth flattens into a thin line. “That was a choice you made.”

You scoff, rounding on him with a scornful look on your face. “Oh, so you want to talk about choices now?” you ask, voice full of strife. “Remind me again in case I’ve forgotten—it was your choice to have us break up in the first place, wasn’t it?”

The muscles in his jaw tighten, standing out under his skin where they flex. “Oh, come on. You’re just mad about last night and instead of acknowledging that, you’re changing the topic.”

“Okay, yeah, I’m mad,” you admit, “but that’s not why I’m bringing this up, and you know it. I believed you the first time you said anything. We can’t just never talk about what happened nine months ago—you can’t just sweep something that big under the rug and expect things to be fine and fucking dandy.”

“Who cares about something that happened months ago?” he asks angrily.

“Are you serious?” you ask, laughing disbelievingly. A chill is beginning to settle over your skin even as the air simmers at a hundred degrees.

He tugs an opposing sleeve, and throws the other hand up in exasperation. “I don’t see how it matters anymore.”

You stop the car.

Jeonghan opens his mouth, and closes it again. "You know, this whole stopping the car in the middle of the road thing is getting old," he says with a hint of exasperation in his voice.

“You don’t see how it matters?” You whip around to look him in the eye, and he shrinks back just a bit. “Jeonghan, you said getting into this relationship was a fucking mistake!”

He stares back at you, unyielding. 

“And now you want to act like that never happened?” you press on. “How did you expect this to turn out? That we would be on the road forever, always going nowhere? That you could get away with never addressing all the things you said, just because I never brought it up?” You scoff. “Did you ever give a shit, or was this whole thing just a way to get into my pants?”

Your eyes are burning, and not just from the heat. Jeonghan’s hands are balled up around the seatbelt, the skin around his mouth pulled tight. You don’t dare to look away, hoping against hope for him to finally say something, anything, even though you’ve been in a dozen arguments like this that all ended the same way. This time, you pray with bated breath, this time it has to be different.

“I guess it was just a bad idea,” he says finally, quietly.

Every tensed muscle in your body goes limp, and you’re pulling yourself out of the suffocating car before your mind has even formed a coherent thought, dying to get away from him. The asphalt seems to sizzle, and you wonder in a daze if the road is just a mirage and you’ve actually been standing in one spot this entire time.

You’re standing in the heat, the warm wind making your skin sting with sweat, and even with your hands covering your face you can still sense Jeonghan’s presence behind you. When you turn, there he is, standing still in front of the car. The sun’s rays reflect off of the hood of the car and into your eyes, and you blink back against the stinging brought on by the forceful brightness. For a second you can’t see the expression on his face as he shifts, his silhouette outlined in shadow by the glaring sun, but then your eyes adjust to the light and the look on his face makes something crack and split apart in your chest.

You know then that he will not say anything. He will watch you walk away, again and again and again, with that stoic set of his shoulders and the proud line of his mouth, but he will not say a word. You want to grab him and shake him, scream at him to say something, but you know that his words, in all their vehemence and vitality, are reserved only for him. And you’re going to stay outside, forgotten in the sun, where he hung you out to dry all those months ago.

You wrap your arms around yourself, feeling a twinge of pain against the side of your ribs where his fingers dug into your skin last night. For a moment, you can almost feel his hot breath on your neck, his teeth on your thighs, but you blink, and suddenly the distance between you feels too great. Jeonghan’s eyes bore into yours, the heels of his palms braced against the hood of the car he leans on, and even in the sweltering heat you have to suppress a shiver. 

“I knew this was a bad idea,” you whisper. “Even when I didn’t have a choice.” 

A muscle in his neck pulls taut, but all he does is lift one corner of his mouth in a lazy, sardonic smile. You watch him pretend not to notice as his grip turns white-knuckle-tight.

“Needs must when the devil drives, sweetheart,” is all he says.

You have no response to that. “Right,” you whisper. Your fingers are trembling, and you’re definitely in no state to drive, but you’re suddenly seized with the desire to get away from it all. Away from him. “Take me home, Jeonghan.”

Peonies have always been Joshua’s favorite. 

Even though you’ve never been big on elaborate apologies, the guilt you feel after having ignored your injured best friend for the past couple of weeks is strong enough that you end up buying a whole bouquet for him. Joshua’s mom’s face lights up when she sees you, and you give her a shy, apologetic smile right before she sweeps you up into a bone-crushing hug.

Your eyes widen, but you wrap your arms around her anyway, feeling stupidly emotional at the warm reception. “Oh, sweetheart, I haven’t seen you in so long!” she gushes, and you ignore the painful squeeze of your heart upon hearing the endearment. “If Josh had told me that you were coming, I would’ve made your favorite cherry brownies.”

“No problem, ma’am, I’ll be sticking around for a while,” you tell her with a warm smile.

“Oh, you must be looking for him,” she says, “Poor kid’s been cooped up for weeks, he misses you so much. I think he’s in the backyard, or I would’ve called for him.”

The backyard? You wonder what a guy with a broken leg is doing in the backyard—definitely not sunning himself in this weather—but you thank her anyway. Gripping your bouquet, you head to the back of the house, pushing past the screen door and stepping into the uncut grass of the Hongs’ backyard.

And stop short.

“What the fuck?” you sputter.

Joshua almost trips over the black-and-white football, steadying himself last minute to look up at you with wide eyes. Your grip on the flowers has tightened even further as you imagine it to be the boy’s throat. “Hey, ____,” he says with a strained grin. “I didn’t know you were coming! This is such a lovely surprise. And are those flowers? For me? Aw, you shouldn’t have!”

You stare him down, unrelenting. “I didn’t realize broken bones could heal themselves in less than three weeks,” you say pleasantly, a contrast to the death glare that pins him in place. “Shouldn’t you be resting, sweet Joshua?”

“Oh, um, the doctors were pretty surprised too. Miracle recovery, they called it.” He lets out a forced laugh as you cock an eyebrow menacingly. Joshua sighs, dropping the facade. “Okay, that’s not working, huh.”

“No,” you tell him. “But I can break your leg right now to make it all true, because I know how much you hate lying to your best friend.”

He puts his hands up placatingly, taking a careful step back. “Hey, hey, hey, I can explain,” he says, sweating. “Why don’t we go back inside and get you something to drink, and then I can tell you why I lied,” he suggests with a nervous smile. “You must be parched.”

You give him a dirty look. “For blood, yeah,” you mutter. “This better be fucking good, Hong, or I’m going to break both your legs.”

Back in his room, you opt to stand near the doorway in case he tries to bolt. You’d tried to upend the peonies into the bin, but he’d grabbed them before you could, saying that the poor flowers weren’t to blame. Joshua sits on the edge of his bed, hugging the bouquet to his chest, and you fold your arms threateningly across your chest. “Alright,” you say waspishly. “Explain yourself.”

He looks down at his shoes, see-sawing the heels of his cleats back and forth. “Before you get mad,” he starts, “you gotta remember one thing. I did it for you.”

Your lips curl downwards into an unimpressed frown. “Let me get this straight. You lied to me about your leg being broken, sending my ex-boyfriend in your place to take me home, for my sake?”

Joshua winces. “That sounds pretty terrible when you put it like that,” he confesses. “But, yeah, I did.” You unfold your arms, making as if to step towards him, and he yelps, putting his hands up again. “Let me explain!”

“You’ve explained plenty,” you tell him.

“No, I still have stuff left!” he pleads. “Listen, after you broke up with that guy, you weren’t the one who had to deal with him afterwards. While you went back to college, I had to stay here and be there for him while he was moping all over the place.”

You roll your eyes. “I would hardly call you and Jeonghan friends. There’s no reason he would come to you for comfort.”

“I mean, yeah, he didn’t,” he admits, “but this is a small town. Do you know how hard it is to escape the news of one break-up, especially one as high-profile as yours.”

“High profile?”

“You know what I mean,” he chides. “The point is, you didn’t see him afterwards. He was really torn up about it, you know?” You purse your lips as Joshua leans forward, his expression turning serious. “I didn’t have any sympathy for him in the beginning, because of what you told me, but the more I saw of him the more difficult it became to match up the idea of the Jeonghan I knew and the Jeonghan you said told you all those things.”

Scoffing, you look away, unable to stand the sight of Joshua’s imploring eyes. “Just because you couldn’t make sense of it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

He sighs. “Look, I’m not defending him. What he said to you—about not seeing the point in putting in effort, that you were just playing at charades, and the thing about your relationship being a childish mistake—”

You grit your teeth. “I get it. I was there, remember?”

“Yeah.” Joshua scratches his head, a thin line appearing between his brows. “He had no right to say any of that to you, but I still felt like there was something I was missing, so I went to talk to him.”

Defeated, you throw your hands up. “Of course you did.”

“And I don’t think he meant any of that. I mean, he still shouldn’t have said that shit, but…” Your eyes narrow to snakelike slits, and he shakes his head hastily. “Haven’t you ever gotten the feeling that despite all his bravado, the guy just doesn’t know how to express his feelings without getting defensive about them?”

You hesitate, biting your lip. Joshua sees the shift in your mood, and persists. “I might be wrong, and maybe breaking up with him was the best thing that ever happened to you,” he says, “but if there was the slightest chance of miscommunication, I would be a shitty best friend if I allowed you to let him go without a chance to set things right.” He tilts his head, sitting back. “So I faked a broken leg and kind of tricked him into thinking I was doing him a favor by letting him go get you in my place.”

“You tricked Jeonghan.” You can’t lie, you’re impressed. “Wow, you’re insane.”

“Um, I would say talented,” he argues. “Anyway, he was happy to do it. I think he was secretly looking for a chance to talk to you, so I thought a five hour drive might give him enough courage to tell you how he really felt. Then when you came back, I thought I’d surprise you, and we’d get to go on that trip after all. And then you texted me that you were eloping with him—”

“That’s not what it was.”

“—and I thought that my idea had worked. But then…” he trails off, and looks down at the flowers in his hands.

“But what?” you prompt.

“I don’t know, you tell me,” he says. “Something clearly went wrong.”

You sigh, and walk over to sit down heavily beside him. “It was going fine in the beginning,” you tell him. “But we didn’t actually talk about the argument, and after a point, I didn’t know how to bring it up. Then we sort of…” You wince.

Joshua frowns. “What?”

You think about all the different times the two of you fucked instead of talking about your feelings. “We kissed,” you finally speak, and Joshua shakes his head disappointedly. “A few times.”

“I’m getting the feeling that’s not all you did.”

You shush him. “And then it sort of reached a boiling point, and we argued. Again.” Your heart hurts as you remember the argument from only hours ago. “And he said some messed up things. Again.”

Joshua is silent for a few moments. Then he slings an arm over your shoulders, squeezing you against him in an incredibly comforting side hug. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles into your hair, and you blink back tears. 

“I missed you.” You reach up to wrap your hands around his shoulders. Joshua’s hugs are as comforting and as restrictive for your breathing as his mom’s. “I had the worst fucking time, but it was also the best fucking time,” you sniffle into the crook of his neck. Then you spot a gleaming trophy on his ledge. “Oh, so you guys did end up winning the playoffs.”

Joshua looks back, and nods. “Oh, yeah, the second half was absolutely insane. Remind me to tell you about it.”

You tuck your chin into his shoulder. “I still can’t believe I threw a whole tantrum about not getting to go on a trip,” you say, “when I could’ve just come back and done it anyway.”

“Don’t worry, we still have weeks to make up for that.” Joshua rubs your back comfortingly. “He’s an idiot.”

“Yeah, he is,” you mumble, speech slightly obstructed by your cheek squished against Joshua’s shoulder. “I just thought things might be different this time.”

“Me too,” he whispers.

You press your face back into his neck. "You're not off the hook, by the way."

Joshua sighs.

Joshua’s mom insists on throwing you a welcome back party that night, and despite being both emotionally and physically exhausted, you can’t find it in yourself to say no. She makes you your favorite cherry brownies, as promised, which are the only thing you eat before your appetite runs out.

You sit alone at the table after everyone is done eating and the guests have dispersed around the house, dragging your spin around the empty hollow of your bowl. Your shoulders feel heavy with the weight of all the mistakes you’ve made. As you sit there idly, you keep running your last conversation with Jeonghan over and over in your head, wondering what you could’ve said to make it go differently. 

You close your eyes, and for a moment you’re back to last October, standing on the ice-slicked ground outside the diner where you’ve celebrated every birthday with Jeonghan since eighth grade. His eyes are vacant and vicious and there’s ice trapped around your ribs that seems to be getting harder and sharper with every breath, and you’re screaming at each other until your throat is raw and your tears freeze in the cold.

There’s no point in crying over spilt milk, you suppose, and you’ve always been a hothead. You and Jeonghan together are about as mild as an active volcano.

Sighing, you get to your feet, the table cover rustling over your knees. You’ve stayed for about as long as you could have, and now you just want to sleep. I’m just gonna tell her I’m tired, you think, and head towards the backyard in hopes to catch Joshua’s mom conversing with someone there.

You step outside into the dark to find a single person sitting on the rickety old swing. Frowning, you move closer to figure out if it’s her, but the frame is too tall and masculine to be the person you’re looking for. “Sorry, I thought you were someone else,” you tell them as they raise their head, taking a step back.

“No. Stay.” A hand reaches out to wrap around your wrist, tugging it towards the swing. It’s then that you notice the silvery-blond hair, lit up by the smattering of light that shines out past the half-open screen door. Jeonghan gets to his feet, and you freeze. “Please.”

“I didn’t realize you were invited,” you say stiffly.

“I wasn’t. I just came to look for you,” he says. There’s an earnest touch to his voice, giving you pause. “To apologize.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling your hackles rise. “What could you possibly have to say now?” You free your hand from his grasp, taking another step back. “You’ve made it sufficiently clear that this never meant anything to you.”

“Of course it meant something!” he yells. He takes a deep breath, chest still rising and falling. “I never wanted to hurt you. I was—I was scared.”

The notion sounds so ridiculous that you want to laugh in his face. But his eyes are still on yours, voice is gravelly and somber, and you feel like you’re rooted to the spot.

“Scared of what?” you whisper.

“Scared to repeat history,” he replies. “Scared to let my pride get the best of me again, say things I don’t mean. Lot of good that did me, since trying to avoid talking about it just led me to making the same mistakes.”

Your throat constricts painfully, like it’s being choked from the inside. “You really hurt me, you know,” you say hoarsely. “I never wanted to see your face again.”

A small, sad smile touches his lips. “I know,” he says. “Knowing that you didn’t want to see me made everything so much scarier. What if you just refused to come back with me? What if you’d rather just stay back or actually take the bus?” He seems to struggle with his words for a second. “When you agreed to come on that stupid road trip, I felt like I had struck the lottery.”

Your vision is blurry, and you blink rapidly against the oncoming tears. “Thank you,” you whisper, choking back the emotion that surges up your throat, “for telling me that. But,”

He waits.

“That’s not enough,” you complete tiredly. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Jeonghan asks, eyes blazing. He looks just as tired as you are. “Is it because of what I said? Because—I don’t know how to make you believe this, but I didn’t mean any of what I said.”

“No.” It feels like the only reason you’re standing still is because every cell in your body has had the energy sucked out of it, leaving you bone-weary. “It’s because you never say anything. And I’m sick of it, Jeonghan.” Your face twists as you try not to start sobbing like a little kid. “I can’t live knowing that you can go back to pretending to be that wooden, unfeeling shell of a person every time I rip myself to shreds in front of you. I hate that you never say a word, that you’re willing to watch me walk away rather than choke back that damn pride of yours. I’m fucking sick of it.”

His eyes soften. “I’m not the same person I used to be, sweetheart. Losing you taught me that,” he says quietly. “Even if I forget that at times myself. Please, just let me show you.”

“I'm not a girl anymore, Jeonghan,” you say tightly. “I don’t know how many second chances I have left in me.”

“That's what I'm afraid of.” He moves towards you, cupping your face. “Because you still feel like a girl to me… and I still feel like a boy around you. I'm afraid that you're growing up and away and out of me. That’s how I felt last October, when you came back so different, and I didn’t know what to do with myself. I thought you wouldn’t need me anymore.”

“Then why didn't you say that?” you demand, lungs burning. “All this time, I've been—” You finally let the tears flow. “I’ve been so…”

“Because I'm still seventeen," he breathes, "every time I look at you, choking on my words as you come down the stairs in your prom dress. I might be a devil, but when it comes to you, words still fail me." 

There’s a barbed wire wrapped around your spine, a spike stabbing into each vertebrae, that tightens and tightens with every word that comes out of his mouth. He laughs under his breath, as if remembering something. “You see,” he says, “being around you kind of activates my fight or flight instinct.”

A broken laugh bubbles to your lips, and you blink against the tears that seem to make everything brighter around you. “You suck,” you tell him honestly, making him smile as if you’d just told him he was the most perfect man on earth. Standing straighter, you school your features into an expression of formality, and clear your throat. “So how are you planning on not making the same mistakes again?”

“Well,” he says, “I’m gonna try really, really hard.”

You cast your eyes heavenward. “You’re really lucky I’m hopelessly in love with you.”

“I know.” Jeonghan takes your face between his cold hands and pulls you in for a firm kiss. You clutch the hem of his t-shirt, feeling warmth spread down to your toes when he smiles into the kiss. “I’m hopelessly in love with you, too.”

“Oh, look at you, all grown up,” Joshua gushes as you lug your olive green suitcase down the front steps of your porch. “Going off to college for the first day of her final year. I feel like we should take a photo to remember this moment.”

“Joshua, shut up,” Jeonghan grunts as he lifts the bag. “If you have the time to take a photo, you have the time to help me out with the luggage.”

“Um, aren’t you forgetting something?” Your best friend points exaggeratedly at the plaster cast that covers his foot. “I’m a bit disabled at the moment.”

Karma had come full circle for him when he’d tried to take over the neighboring eleven-year-old’s trampoline, and had ended up breaking his leg for real. Everyone thinks he deserved it except Joshua himself, who’d warmed up to the idea anyway when he’d realized that he could get people to sign cool stuff on his cast.

“You’re acting like I’m going for my first day at kindergarten or something.” You roll your eyes. 

“Yeah, you’re a real grown-up,” he leans over to pat your arm, withdrawing it hastily when you threaten to kick his broken leg. “Jeez, calm your tits.”

“I am calm.”

“Totally.” Jeonghan slams the boot of the Corolla, making a cloud of dust puff up. He reaches over to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “You ready to go?”

“I really think we should take a picture,” Joshua interjects.

Both of you turn to glare at him, and he shrinks into the wheelchair. “Sensing some hostility,” he mutters. “So ungrateful, considering that I’m the whole reason you’re together in the first place.”

“Exaggeration,” you say, and turn to Jeonghan. “I’ll just be a moment, okay?”

He nods, and you give him a tiny smile before running back inside the house. Joshua shakes his head curiously at Jeonghan, who only shrugs in response, just as mystified. They wait for a few more seconds, and Joshua pulls out the marker and begins doodling inside the D of your signature on his cast, which is a sweet, short message: Dick.

“Okay!” You command the attention back to yourself with a clap of your hands as you emerge from the door, this time with the plastic pink heart-shaped sunglasses adoring your face. “How do I look?” you ask, propping them up on the top of your head, and giving them a little twirl.

“Like an idiot,” your best friend says, deadpan. You smack the back of his head as you pass him. “Also, don’t forget your Hello Kitty backpack. They go with your glasses.”

“That’s mine, actually,” Jeonghan says pointedly, and turns to you with a heart-melting smile. “And you look gorgeous as always.”

“Disgusting,” Joshua comments.

You flip him off. “I’m ready to go now.”

“Well, then,” your boyfriend says breezily, patting the hood of the car, which causes another cloud of dust to billow into the air. “Get in. We don’t have all day.”

taglist: @fragmentof-indifference @sadgirlroo @joonsytip @odetoyoon @sstarrysshit @lockburn-castle @chocosvt @ohgeezitsbreadgenie @outrologist @ishireads @ti--red

[eneiyri]

pairing: sunghoon x reader word count: 1.5k type: fluff, established relationship, slightly suggestive nearing the end but very sweet warning(s): reader is (very) drunk and whiny, sunghoon just being a good boyfriend, mentions of sex (it doesn’t actually happen), s/n: niki obviously doesn’t drink, let me know if i need to add more

I want to see you drunk, Sunghoon repeats in his mind, thinking of the words you said to him hours ago. I want to see your flushed cheeks and whiny mood, you also said. Take care of my big baby and cuddle until the morning, you added. Except, it turned out to become the opposite.

"Hey, it's my boy!" You clap your hands together, making Sunghoon flinch in surprise. You giggle groggily, "Aw, you're so cute, Hoon. You get startled so easily, I love your reactions." You reach for his face, pinching his cheeks.

He groans, "Baby, you're drunk." He takes your hands off his face, making you pout and shake your head. "No, you're drunk!" You smack at his arm, making him yelp.

He pulls your arms away from him, heaving a sigh as you smack him again.

"Ow, okay! Fine, I'm the one drunk." He lets out in defeat, moving your hair behind your ear, making you squirm at his touch. "That tickles!"

The boys threw a party at Heeseung’s house, enjoying their last few days of vacation. Sunghoon wasn't planning to go, ready to skip and hangout with you at your shared apartment.

You were very fond of the idea, a nice relaxing day with your boyfriend. But when Jake called you and told you about him missing the party, you knew you just had to change his mind.

After a couple minutes of convincing, Sunghoon immediately gives in. "Aha! I knew Y/n was your soft spot." Jake spoke proudly. Sunghoon rolls his eyes, "Yeah yeah, let's go."

When you arrived to the party, you made sure to stick with Sunghoon during it, but as the party went increased in volume — so did your distance.

While Sunghoon was getting dragged away by mutual friends, you got closer with the other girls in the party, whom were luckily nice and very sweet. Sunghoon doesn't look away from you until he was sure you were comfortable, before turning back to his own group.

The boy finished a couple rounds of cup pong, a cocky smile on his face since Jay and his team had won. "That was luck," Niki calls out from the other side of the table, making Sunghoon smile.

"It's called skill, ju—" A new voice cuts him off, coming from a person who had just entered the room. "Well you're definitely not the only one with skill, Sunghoon. Your girlfriend has the skill of getting drunk."

Sunghoon perks up at the mentions of you, and a laugh stifles from behind him. "Y/n's drunk?" Jay asks, impressed. Sunghoon is quick to leave his spot at the cup pong table, moving past Heeseung — who was the one that told him about your state.

"She’s in the kitchen." He chuckles, patting the younger one on the back.

That's how you end up in the kitchen, swatting your boyfriend's arm away. "I don't want to go home." You glare at him, and he tries to hold in his laugh, finding yourself more alarmingly adorable than threatening.

"Baby, we have to. We can't sleep in Heeseung’s kitchen, we just have to walk to Jake’s car and go." He pokes at your sides, making you whine. "And then cuddle?" You ask him, looking at him with your eyes half closed.

"Cuddle?" You dragged the word, not even giving him enough time to answer. Sunghoon nods, helping you stand up. "And then we can cuddle." He repeats your words.

Sunghoon drapes his arm around your shoulder, stabling your stance.

"Y/n," Jake opens his car door for you and Sunghoon. "Hmm?" You hum trying to keep your eyes open. "You're Sunghoon’s girlfriend, my best friend, but as much as I do love you," He pats on his car like it’s some newborn— "Please for the love of God do not throw up on my baby." He groans, making Sunghoon laugh.

Jake’s girlfriend rolls her eyes, "Should've just dated the car." She jokes, luckily sober. Jake snickers, "I mean, it's not—" "Don't you dare finish that sentence, Sim, or I'll get you in your sleep." His girlfriend cuts in. "Yes ma'am."

You laugh loudly at their bickering late, only then just processing their words. The three look at you, letting out a laugh as they noticed your late realization.

A frown forms on your lips, "Why are you laughing at me?" You look at them sadly, Sunghoon quickly shakes his head. "No, we aren't laughing at you. We're laughing with you." He turns to them in panic, and they shrug their shoulders, getting in for the ride.

— "Y/n, we're here." Sunghoon shakes you softly awake, and you let out a huff after falling asleep in the car. You look around, heaving a sigh. "We have to go up now," He adds, pointing at your apartment.

You press against him, leaning your head into his chest. "But I don't want to walk, I feel wobbly." You grumble, crossing your arms on your chest, eyes half open. "Let's teleport!"

He laughs, as he brought a hand up to your head, patting it as he ran his fingers through your hair. "I can carry you," He offers, making you look up at his words. "Like a piggyback?" You ask him with slight excitement. He nods, chuckling at your reaction, "Yeah, a piggyback." He smiles at you.

You giggle, "Okay, Hoon! Here we go," You raise your arms in the air, looking up at Sunghoon with crinkled eyes as soft giggles leave your lips. "Here we go." He coos, turning to help you onto his back.

He carries you to the apartment after thanking Jake, opening the door as he sat you down on your shared bed. He turns to look at you, and he notices how you have one eye closed, the other barely open as you fight your drowsiness.

He quickly stands up to go to the hallway, ready to call Jay for help with an upcoming hangover the next day. But you're quick to grab his wrist, making him yelp in surprise at your sudden strength.

Sunghoon sits in front of you, and you hold his hand on your lap, looking down at them. "Don't go," You mumble. Sunghoon looks up at that, tilting his head. "Hm?" He hums in confusion, not hearing you the first time. "Stay here." Your grip softens on his wrist.

He brings his free hand to your face, moving a strand of hair behind your ear. "I'll be right here." He spoke softly, caressing your face a couple times.

His hands are on your lap, as you look at him, eyes open this time. You stare at him, and he stares right back. "Sunghoon," You spoke, eyes on his lips. "Yes?" He hums.

"I'm going to kiss you." You quipped hastily, like you were at your limit. He looks at you in surprise, taken aback by your sudden announcement. "Y/n—" Your cradle his face in your hands, pulling his face towards your own.

When your lips meet his just barely, he smiles against your lips, kissing you back. After a couple more seconds, Sunghoon notices how your actions became sloppy, until you've halted all your lip movements. He pulls away, looking at you.

“Sunghoon, come to bed.” You loop your arms around his neck, pecking his lips as he gasps against your lips. Sunghoon knew exactly what you were trying to do, and he had to control it.

“Baby,” He drawls, grabbing your hands.

You open your eyes slowly, looking him in the eye. “As much as I’d love to hold you like that, I don’t want to do it while you’re drunk.” He pecks your lips back, taking your hands into his own. “I love you and I want you to give me consent in your sober state, Baby.”

Although you've had sex with Sunghoon before, he never fails to ask you for consent and makes sure you’re comfortable.

Sunghoon makes sure to hold your eye contact, before you softly pulled one of your hands out of his own. He looks at you in confusion, eyes widening when he sees tears forming in your eyes. “Y/n?”

You shake your head and smack his chest. “Hey—“ He starts, but gets cut short when you get closer to him, pressing your face into his chest gently.

“I love you.” Your voice is muffled against his chest, but the boy easily deciphers it. “I love you for loving me,” You add. “I love you so much. So, fucking much.”

Before Sunghoon could say anything, your figure falls back onto your bed, a soft yawn escaping your lips.

He smiles, moving to lie down beside you. “I love you too,” He kisses your forehead, making you come closer. "Only show me this side of you." He spoke aloud, holding you in his arms. You hum in approval, pressing your face into his chest. “Of course.”

copyright © eneiyri 2022

[hailey-dilmore-the-worm]

HAILEYS BULLET OF REVENGE

OCC: IMPORTANT PLEASE READ: THIS IS A REWRITE BECAUSE I WAS STUPID AS FUCK AND ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT... ☹️ BUT IMA GO AND REWRITE IT ALL AGAIN... WARNING: this story contains violence, insults, verbal assault , blood, death, guns and all along the lines of that..THANK YOU. this is a continuation of my roleplay with @ethan-green-69420 , if your reading this, sorry it took so long as I said I accidentally deleted the original...]]

Orange: hailey

Red: zoey

*after her meet up with Ethan, Hailey dilmore walks through the quiet streets of Hatchet Town, the sun settings light shining through the buildings of the streets. As she walked on, Hailey remembers that she left her car back at pizza Pete's.. of course she did.. well it's too far now, she'll go pick it up tomorrow at some point.. that's if ... She's even alive by tomorrow after the course of her plan. She shakes it off, and eventually finally arrives at the apartment building. Walking through the main door and pressing the button on the elevator listening to the rumble of the elevator before it finally dings open. She walks in and presses the button to the 8th floor, watching the doors close and feeling the elevator pull her up to the floor, once again watching the doors ding open. She'd walk out the elevator and through the apartment buildings halls until she stops at her apartment door. She takes out her key and opens the door, closing it and placing her key on the key rack hung up near the front door. Placing her bag down and walking into the main room. No one but her and Zoey was home, which is perfect.. the other girls went out for a meal, Zoey would have too, but the embarrassment of loosing her voice completely during the honey queen pageant still lingers, aswell as her voice still being pretty fucked up still. She'd walk up to Zoey's room and knocks on the door entering*

"hey Zoey.. how are y-"

*before she can say anything else, shes interrupted by Zoey. Her voice rasped and croaked*

"shut up worm.. get out I don't want to talk to you right now."

"right I know that but.. I want to talk to you."

*Zoey rolls her eyes and sits up from her bed she was laying on*

"allright what is it Hailey.."

*Hailey took a deep breath and looked Zoey in the eyes with a serious stare in her eyes*

"I want you to.. to stop."

"stop..?? Hailey what the actual fuck are you on about."

"stop ... Stop blaming me for your issues, assuming it's always me that caused them-!!!! Stop using me as a door mat for yourself-! Putting me down so you can feel good about yourself-!! Insulting me and talking about me behind my back to all your freinds-!! Stop threatening to kick me out of the dorm just because I'm struggling with stomach problems-!"

*silence breaks the room.. their heartbeats the only sound, but was shortly lived as a broken choked laugh escapes Zoey's mouth, as she'd stand up and walks over to Hailey*

"your ... Your joking ... your funny!! You're having a laugh!! Right??"

"no...no I'm not joking I'm serious-! This is what I'm talking ab-"

"shut up...shut ... Up ... Hailey.. I will kick you out of this apartment.. I will end your career, I get you into those shows.. all you have is because of m-"

*Zoey was suddenly shut up by a loud echoed SLAP across the room, a seering pain surges through Zoey's face as she'd stare at Hailey in shock*

"..Zoey...I don't want YOU here anymore..I want you to leave... I'm standing up for myself and .. everyone else you've bitched at-.. lea-"

*as retaliation, in a fit of rage Zoey let out a yell of anger, thrusting her fist into Haley's face causing her to stumble back out the room. Zoey follows, wiping Hailey's blood off her knuckles*

"you... Fucking dare...I'll kill you ...you fucking.. worm..."

*Hailey stands up, spitting out a splatter of blood as she'd lunge at Zoey back. Starting a big fight between themselves. Punches and slaps throw across the room, until Hailey switches it up and wraps her hands around Zoey's neck, in an attempt to strangle her to death, Zoey in panic thrashes around, knocking stuff off the shelves and tables. And is finally able to break free as Hailey finds Zoey's knee striking her straight in the stomach, pushing her onto the floor in a winded state. Zoey gasps, catching her breath before making her way over to Hailey*

"you..you be got some nerve... Get ... Get out of my apartment..or I'll make you myself.."

*Hailey grits her teeth, so it's come to this, she reaches for the gun in her back pocket, turning the safety off*

"Zoey...I'm... So...sorry..for everything..."

"your sorry?? Your fucking sorry???? I not accepting that... After all of that-!!!!! You... Son..of a-"

*Zoey was silenced, after a flash of God awful pain struck her through the chest followed by a loud BANG. She'd look down, finding a bullet wound, right in her chest, she'd struggle to breath as she'd cough up blood, her legs trembling to the floor. Opposite of the dying zoey, Hailey stands back up for the second time, her eyes pink, and glowing whilst watching her friend struggle on the floor, breathing slowly until her breaths disappear and the life from her eyes drain away..*

"now...now who's the worm...huh...who's the worm now..!!"

*she'd bend down to check if she's still breathing, finding out she's gone, before walking over to the mirror, looking at herself in it, before taking out her phone and texting @ethan-green-69420 *

["its done...she's gone... I don't know how long the others will be before they come back so...please hurry-"]

OOC: YIPEE FINALLY I HOPE I DONT DELETE IT AGAIN....

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Between the Ropes… a Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley fanfic.

Chapter 20: dark hair and soft skin… forever...

Jey sat in the back of the Uber, gripping his phone as his leg bounced uncontrollably. His chest felt tight, and sweat slicked his palms. The rhythmic hum of the car’s engine should have been soothing, but every bump in the road made his stomach lurch. It was like the anxiety was rolling around inside him, threatening to spill over. The driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror a couple of times but said nothing. Jey could feel his throat closing up, and the desire to throw up kept crawling closer with each passing second.

"Come home to me."

The words echoed relentlessly in his head. Rhea’s voice had sounded so desperate when she said it. That final plea. He’d tried calling her three times since she hung up. Once on the way to the airport, once before he turned his phone on airplane mode, and once as soon as he landed.

Each call went straight to voicemail. Each time, her name popped up on his screen, only for her to decline. He couldn’t shake the hollow pit growing deeper in his chest every time she didn’t pick up.

That last call, the way her voice cracked when she said those four words, and the way she hung up afterward… something wasn’t right. And it was eating him alive.

"Come home to me."

Jey squeezed his eyes shut, forcing down the nausea rising in his throat. He leaned forward slightly, resting his forehead against the cool window of the car. Home.

He had no clue what to expect when he got to Jon and Trinity's place. Part of him wanted to jump out of the car and run the rest of the way, as if that would somehow get him there faster. The other part of him dreaded walking through that door, afraid of what might be waiting on the other side.

"Come home to me."

His heart pounded, each beat louder and more erratic than the last. It felt like someone had taken the air out of the car, like the walls were closing in on him. He could barely breathe.

This wasn’t just a fight. Rhea wasn’t one to cut him off like that, especially after everything they'd been through. This was something bigger, something Jey couldn’t wrap his head around.

When the Uber finally slowed down in front of Jon and Trinity’s house, Jey’s anxiety spiked even higher. He could feel it in his chest, tightening like a fist around his heart. The driver turned back and said something, but Jey barely registered it. He just thanked the driver.

Stepping out of the car, he stared at the house. It felt surreal. The lights were on, and he could see shadows moving behind the windows. Jon and Trinity were probably inside, waiting for him, unaware of the storm raging inside his head. But it wasn’t them he was thinking about. It was Rhea.

He didn’t know what he was walking into, but he had to face it.

Jey took a deep breath, then started up the driveway. Each step felt heavier than the last. His heart hammered in his chest, and Rhea’s voice kept playing in his head like a broken record.

"Come home to me."

He stopped just before the front door, his hand hovering over the doorknob. Part of him wanted to call her one last time, just to hear her voice, even if she declined again. Maybe this time she’d pick up.

He unlocked his phone, staring at her contact photo for a second, thumb hovering over the call button. Then, before he could think better of it, he dialed.

The phone rang once. Twice.

Then it stopped. Voicemail.

Jey exhaled a shaky breath. His heart sank, but he pocketed the phone and pushed open the door.

It was time to face whatever was waiting inside.

Jey stepped through the door, his stomach still twisted in knots. He could feel Jon and Trinity’s eyes on him as he entered the house, but neither of them said a word. Their conversation halted mid-sentence, replaced by the kind of silence that weighed heavy, like they already knew something was off.

He didn’t look at them. Didn’t have the energy to explain anything.

His bag landed with a dull thud beside the staircase as he made his way up, each step feeling like it would give out beneath him. His heart raced in his chest, and all he could think about was Rhea—the tension in her voice, the hurt he hadn’t been able to fix with any of his calls.

As he reached the guest bedroom, the door stood slightly ajar. He paused, took one more deep breath, and pushed it open. The sight of Rhea sitting in the middle of the empty bed hit him hard. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, her eyes vacant, staring at nothing. She looked small, lost in the sea of blankets that had once felt like a haven for the both of them.

Without a word, Jey crossed the room and sat down beside her. His hands fidgeted on his knees, searching for something to hold onto, but there was nothing. The silence between them was deafening, both of them waiting for the other to say something.

Finally, Rhea broke the quiet. "Do you regret me?"

Her voice was soft, but the question was sharp, cutting through Jey’s chest like a blade. He didn’t hesitate—he couldn’t.

"No," he said firmly. His heart ached with the sincerity of his answer. How could she even think that? Regret her? Regret them? No matter what had happened, she was the only thing that felt real to him.

Rhea nodded but didn’t look at him. Her voice wavered as she spoke again, this time with a quiet edge. "Then why is it that the first time you get a night out, you go and get completely hammered?"

Jey opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out. The words got stuck in his throat. He felt her eyes on him, waiting, expecting an explanation he didn’t have.

"It wasn’t like that," he finally managed to say, but the words felt weak, hollow. "I’ve just been… under a little stress, that’s all."

Rhea stood up, frustration radiating off her in waves. She crossed her arms, pacing at the foot of the bed, her movements sharp and quick. "We’re all under stress, Jey! But you don’t see me going out and drinking until I can barely stand." Her voice grew louder, each word punctuating the room.

Jey’s hands clenched into fists. He hated feeling like this, hated seeing her hurt because of him. "I just wanted things to feel normal for a little bit," he said, almost pleading.

Rhea stopped pacing. She froze in place, her back turned to him. Silence stretched between them again, this time heavier, almost suffocating. Jey felt the weight of his words hanging in the air, the sting of them settling in his chest.

She turned around slowly, her face unreadable. "Normal?" she echoed, her voice quiet but loaded with disbelief. "What part of our lives has been normal since I walked into your room that night?"

Her eyes locked onto his, the raw vulnerability behind them cutting him deeper than any argument they’d ever had. She was referencing that night—the night everything changed, when they crossed a line they could never uncross.

Jey swallowed hard, the memories flooding back, uninvited and relentless. He could still see her standing in his doorway, hesitant but needing him in the same way he needed her. The tension, the pull between them—it had felt inevitable. But now, looking at her, he wondered if it was all a mistake.

"Rhea…" he started, but the words got lost before he could finish.

"Maybe I shouldn’t have gone to your room that night," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. It wasn’t accusatory, more like a realization she was saying out loud for the first time.

Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. The truth behind them terrified him. Had it all been a mistake? Had they ruined everything—their lives, their relationships—for something that wasn’t meant to be?

"No," Jey whispered, his voice breaking. "Don’t say that." He stood up, closing the space between them, his hand reaching for hers, but she pulled away. His heart dropped as the distance between them grew wider, not just physically but emotionally, a chasm he wasn’t sure he could bridge.

"Rhea, we both know that night… It wasn’t just a mistake. It was more than that."

She shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes. "But look at us now, Jey. Is this what you wanted? Because I don’t know how much more I can take."

Jey felt his chest tighten again. He wanted to tell her it would be okay, that they could fix this. But the truth was, he didn’t have the answers anymore. He didn’t know if they could go back. All he knew was that he couldn’t lose her, not like this.

"I didn’t want any of this to happen," he said softly. "But I don’t regret you. I never will."

Rhea wiped her eyes, her expression softening, but the hurt was still there. She sat back down on the bed, and for a moment, they were both lost in the quiet of the room, the weight of everything they’d been through pressing down on them.

Jey’s heart pounded in his chest as he took a deep breath, staring at Rhea as she sat back on the bed, her eyes still red from their raw conversation. He knew he had to do this now, that this was the moment. He couldn’t let her think for one more second that he would ever walk away, that he could ever regret her.

“Whatever you do, no matter what happens, I’m not leaving you,” he said, his voice steady but full of emotion. His gaze didn’t waver. She needed to hear him, to know he meant every word.

For a brief second, his mind flickered to Jaciyah, his son. A promise he’d made to himself—to keep things steady, to focus on being a father. But this was different. This was his future, too. He felt the weight of that promise lift as he reached into his pocket, something small and hidden that had been burning a hole there since he picked it up. Breaking his promise to Jaciyah, just for this moment, Jey got down on one knee.

The sudden motion caught Rhea off guard. Her breath hitched, and she began to hyperventilate, eyes widening in shock. “Jey, what—?”

He grabbed her hand gently, grounding her. His thumb stroked the back of her hand, and he met her gaze, his voice soft but unwavering. “Demi Adams,” he began, using her real name, his tone thick with emotion. “I have loved you since the moment I saw you.”

Rhea’s breath was still uneven, her chest rising and falling rapidly, but she didn’t pull away. Her wide, tearful eyes locked on him, as if she couldn’t quite believe what was happening.

“I don’t regret asking you to come to my room,” Jey continued, his voice growing steadier with each word. “I don’t regret how me and you spent these last months together. I don’t regret divorcing my ex. I don’t regret every single time I ditched an interview or missed a PR fest just to stay in your hotel room and watch scary movies with you.”

Rhea’s face crumpled at his words, tears pooling in her eyes, her free hand pressed against her mouth.

“I don’t regret risking my career for you,” Jey’s voice softened, but it was laced with intensity, every word charged with the love he couldn’t hide anymore. “I don’t regret anything. But what I do regret…” He paused, taking a deep breath. “What I do regret is not doing this sooner.”

He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. Rhea’s hand trembled in his as she gasped. Jey slowly opened the box, revealing a ring—a delicate but stunning band, intricately designed with a diamond that shimmered under the dim light. The center of the ring had a small, personal touch—their baby’s ashes, forever encased in the stone.

“This ring… contains our baby,” Jey said softly, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “Demi… will you marry me?”

Rhea was already crying, but now her sobs grew heavier. She looked at Jey with so much love, so much raw emotion, that it was almost overwhelming. Her hand trembled in his, and her tears spilled down her cheeks as she struggled to speak. But the words came, filled with all the love and hope she had been holding back.

“Yes!” she exclaimed, her voice breaking as she fell forward, throwing her arms around him. “Yes! Yes!”

Jey’s heart surged, and he slid the ring onto her finger, his hands gentle but sure. The moment it was on, they both paused for a beat, staring at the symbol of their love, of everything they’d been through and everything they were yet to face.

Then Jey pulled her closer, their lips meeting in a kiss so full of passion and relief that it felt like the weight of the world had fallen away. Rhea clung to him, her tears still streaming down her face as she kissed him, as if sealing the promise they had just made to each other.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested together, both of them breathing heavily, their hearts pounding in sync. The room was quiet, but it was filled with the kind of peace that only came from knowing they were finally where they were meant to be—together.

“I love you,” Rhea whispered through her tears, her fingers gently tracing the back of Jey’s neck. “I’ve always loved you.”

Jey smiled, his thumb brushing away the tears on her cheeks as he whispered back, “And I’ve always loved you.”

In that moment, it didn’t matter what they had faced, or what they still had to face. They had each other, and for Jey, that was enough.

Jon and Trinity tumbled onto the floor, practically crashing through the doorframe in their eagerness to eavesdrop, a tangle of limbs and laughter. Rhea burst out laughing at the sight, wiping away the remnants of her tears. Jey rolled his eyes, clearly used to his brother’s antics.

"You couldn't wait?" Jey asked, eyebrow raised, his tone half-amused, half-exasperated.

Jon shook his head unapologetically. "Nope. You know I had to hear how this would play out."

Trinity quickly got up, brushing herself off with a wide grin. “Let me see it!” she squealed, reaching for Rhea’s hand.

Rhea smiled and held out her hand, flashing the ring. Trinity gasped, her eyes lighting up with excitement as she grabbed Rhea’s hand to inspect the ring more closely. “Oh my God, it’s beautiful!” she gushed. “You two are so perfect together!”

Jon clapped Jey on the back, the same grin plastered on his face. “You did good, bro.”

Rhea leaned into Jey, still grinning, and kissed him again, her heart feeling lighter than it had in months. The tension that had been looming between them earlier seemed to have melted away. Everything felt right.

As the excitement settled, Jey finally asked the question that had been gnawing at him since he walked into the nearly empty house. “Okay, I get that you and Trinity are moving, but seriously—there’s no furniture anywhere.” He glanced around the bare room, gesturing at the vacant space.

Jon chuckled. “Yeah, we move the couch and beds tomorrow once the electricity turns on,” he explained. “Everything else is already packed and in the new place.”

Jey nodded, still a bit thrown by how empty the place felt. “Man, this house used to be full of stuff… now it’s like a ghost town.”

Rhea glanced around as well, noticing how stark and hollow it felt without the usual warmth and clutter of their shared life. “It’s weird seeing it like this.”

Trinity sighed, folding her arms. “Yeah, it’s bittersweet. We had a lot of good times here, but it’s time for a new chapter.”

Rhea nodded in agreement, squeezing Jey’s hand. “New chapters are good.”

Jon grinned, eyeing Jey and Rhea with a smirk. “Speaking of new chapters, I guess we’ll be expecting another wedding soon, huh?”

Jey shot him a look, but couldn’t help the smile creeping onto his face. “One step at a time, man.”

Jon just laughed, clearly enjoying every second of this moment. “Well, I can’t wait. It’s gonna be wild. You two deserve all the happiness in the world.”

Jey wrapped his arm around Rhea’s shoulders, pulling her close. “Yeah, we do,” he said quietly, his gaze softening as he looked at her.

Rhea smiled up at him, the warmth of their shared future shining in her eyes. The road ahead might still have its bumps, but they were ready to face it—together.

—

Jey stepped out of the bathroom, steam trailing behind him as he dried his face with a towel. The soft hum of the bathroom fan mixed with Rhea’s voice drifting from the bedroom.

“Don’t forget to put the stuff back, honey. We’re leaving tomorrow morning when Trinity goes to the airport,” she reminded him.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” Jey replied, half-smiling to himself as he grabbed his shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, tossing them into his travel bag. He zipped it up, satisfied that everything was packed and ready to go for moving day tomorrow.

With the day winding down, he strolled back into the guest bedroom, the soft light casting a golden glow on the walls. Rhea was already snuggled under the comforter, her long hair spread across the pillow. The blanket was pulled up high, but he could still see the hint of her pink Yeet shirt peeking out.

Jey sighed and slid into bed beside her, immediately feeling the contrast between the cool sheets and her warm body. “I want some warmth…” he murmured with a pout, his voice playful as he nudged her with his arm.

Rhea smiled, her eyes flickering with amusement as she opened the blanket for him. “Come here then,” she said softly.

Jey grinned and slid in closer, wrapping his arms around her as the comforter enveloped them both. His hand gently traced the fabric of her shirt, and that’s when he noticed her matching pink boyshorts. His grin widened, his tone teasing. “Well, well… someone’s feeling frisky tonight,” he said, leaning in to kiss her softly on the lips.

Rhea blushed, her cheeks a light shade of pink as she smiled up at him. “You’re ridiculous,” she whispered, but the smile never left her face as Jey kissed her neck, sending a warm shiver down her spine.

As his lips lingered near her ear, he suddenly pulled back, changing the subject in true Jey fashion. “Hey, speaking of surprises… why is there an $800 charge on the credit card, by the way?”

Rhea giggled, the shift in conversation catching her off guard. “Oh, that? That’s just the down payment for the bedroom sets at Furniture Row,” she explained with a casual shrug.

Jey groaned, hitting his head lightly with his hand. “Oh man, I totally forgot about that. Did you at least get the Posturepedic? You know, for my back?” he asked, his voice trailing into a playful whine.

Rhea laughed, giving him a playful nudge. “Only for my old man,” she teased, making fun of the ten-year age gap between them.

Jey chuckled, pulling her in tighter as he leaned back on the pillows. “Old man, huh? Have you seen my matches? My back…” He exaggerated a wince, rubbing his lower back dramatically, pretending to be in pain.

Rhea rolled her eyes, laughing at his antics. “You’re such a baby.”

Jey smirked, kissing the top of her head. “Hey, I’m just saying… a Posturepedic could do wonders.”

Rhea smiled, resting her head on his chest as they both settled in, the gentle hum of the night surrounding them.

“Hey babe… where are the furries actually?” Jey said in referencing to Rhea’s pets.

“Jon took the liberty of driving them up to Pensacola yesterday, they are at a nice resort. Jon is going to pick them up on Sunday. I’ve been getting updates on them since yesterday, want to see?” Rhea asked pulling out her phone. Jey nodded, curious to see his step furbabies.

Tomorrow might be a bit hectic, but for now, they had each other, wrapped in warmth and laughter as they saw funny pictures of the animals.

—

Rhea stirred from her sleep, feeling the soft, familiar sensation of Jey’s lips pressing gently against her neck. A lazy smile spread across her face before she even opened her eyes. She loved waking up like this—Jey’s warmth, his affection, and the sense of peace it brought her. Slowly, she blinked her eyes open, her gaze landing on his face hovering above her.

Her smile widened as she noticed the state of his messy mullet. His hair was all over the place, like he’d been tossing and turning all night, and she couldn't help but laugh softly.

“Mornin’, beautiful,” Jey greeted her, his lips curving into a grin. “Jon and Trinity are already up, and we gotta get moving too.”

Rhea stretched beneath the covers, feeling the comfort of the bed for one last moment before their busy day began. “What time is it?” she asked groggily, still half-asleep.

“Almost seven. Movers are here. They’re taking the beds and couches to the new house today, so we gotta get ready.”

Rhea groaned softly, reluctantly pushing herself up onto her elbows. “Already?” she asked, looking over at the clock on the nightstand.

“Yeah, babe. You know how Jon and Trinity are—early birds,” Jey teased, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Plus, the sooner we get everything moved, the sooner Jon will be relaxed.

Rhea sat up fully now, pulling the comforter tighter around her as the cool morning air hit her skin. “Ugh, okay, okay. I’ll get ready,” she muttered, still trying to shake the sleep from her body.

Jey watched her with an amused smile as he stood from the bed, heading over to his suitcase. “I already packed most of my stuff,” he said, giving her a wink. “You know, tryin’ to impress you with my efficiency.”

Rhea snorted, playfully rolling her eyes. “Oh, wow, aren’t you just the model fiancé?” she teased.

Jey laughed, his deep voice filling the room. “Damn right. Now come on, let’s get to it before Jon comes in here and drags us out of bed himself.”

Rhea smiled, finally slipping out from under the covers. “Fine, but I’m getting my last coffee bottle out of the fridge,” she said, pulling her pink Yeet shirt down as she padded towards her bags.

Jey watched her with a smirk. “Deal. But once you’re caffeinated, it’s game on.” He walked over, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead before heading to the door. “I’ll go check on the movers. See you downstairs in a few?”

Rhea nodded, rubbing her eyes one last time before standing tall and grabbing her overnight bag. “I’ll be there,” she promised.

As Jey disappeared down the hallway, she took a deep breath, staring around the now mostly empty guest room. It had been a whirlwind few days—helping Jon and Trinity move into their new house, getting the arrangements for their new house, getting Jey’s car and his clothes from the storage unit in California delivered to Florida, travel schedules for the next show, it was a lot. But somehow, in the midst of it all, she and Jey were closer than ever.

—

Rhea and Jey stood side by side, watching as the movers loaded the last of the beds and couches into the back of the moving truck. The morning air was still cool, but the sun had begun to rise, casting a golden hue over Jon and Trinity’s now-empty house. There was a sense of finality as the truck door slammed shut with a loud clank, signaling that the packing was done and the moving journey was about to begin.

Jey wrapped an arm around Rhea’s waist, pulling her close as they both took a deep breath. His voice soft, though there was a hint of excitement beneath it. “Next stop: Pensacola.”

Rhea smiled up at him. “I can’t believe this is really happening,” she said, leaning into his side. “It feels so… real now. I’m so happy for Jon and Trinity…”

Jey pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “It’s gonna be good for us too. Fresh start and all that.”

As they stood there, Jon came walking out of the house after doing a final walkthrough. He locked the door and turned to face them with a satisfied look on his face, though there was a hint of bittersweetness in his eyes. “That’s it,” Jon said, jingling the keys in his hand before slipping them into his pocket. “All packed up.”

He approached Jey and Rhea, handing Jey the key to their new house. “Here’s the key. The movers should meet you there in a couple of hours. I’ll text you the address once we’re on the road, just in case, but it’s all set. The electricity should be on, but if it’s not, call me, and I’ll handle it.”

Jey nodded, taking the key from Jon and slipping it into his pocket. “Got it, man. We’ll head out now.”

Jon clapped a hand on Jey’s shoulder. “Don’t fuck up the house before I do..” he said with a grin, though his tone was affectionate. “I will drop Trinity off and then I’ll be there about an hour after you two…”

Rhea smiled at the exchange, appreciating how close the brothers were. Jon and Trinity had been so supportive through everything, and she was grateful they’d be in Pensacola with them soon.

Jon gave them both a nod, then turned to his Mustang, where Trinity was waiting in the driver’s seat. “I’ll catch up. Safe drive, alright?”

Jey chuckled. “Yeah, yeah, we got it. Don’t break down now..”he teased, giving Rhea a wink.

Rhea rolled her eyes, smirking as she headed to her Jeep. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you in the dust… much.”

Jey climbed into Trinity’s white Escalade, settling into the driver’s seat. He tapped the steering wheel lightly as he watched Rhea make her way to her Jeep, her black hair catching the sunlight. She threw him a playful salute before sliding into the driver’s seat of her vehicle.

Jey smiled to himself, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation, it was all starting now.

He started the engine of the Escalade, glancing in the rearview mirror to see Jon pulling out of the driveway in the Mustang behind him. Trinity gave a small honk as they began to follow Rhea’s Jeep down the road.

Jey took a deep breath and smiled. “Here we go,” he muttered to himself as he shifted the Escalade into drive and followed Rhea’s lead, the caravan of vehicles making their way toward Pensacola and the next step in their lives together.

—

2:18 PM. Pensacola, FL. Jon and Trinity’s new house.

The movers were finishing up, placing the last of the furniture in the house. Jey stood in the living room, directing them as they carefully maneuvered the large California King bed into the master bedroom.

“The Queen goes in the second guest bedroom upstairs, and the California King goes in the master,” Jey instructed, watching as they carefully followed his orders.

Once the beds were assembled and the couches were set up in the living room, Jey thanked the movers, who packed up their tools and left. He exhaled deeply, feeling the weight of the move slowly lift off his shoulders. Finally, the house was starting to feel like a home, at least for now.

He glanced at the thermostat and adjusted it, setting the temperature to a cool 71 degrees, just how he knew Rhea liked it. The air conditioner hummed to life, and the cool breeze began to circulate through the house.

“It’s so beautiful!” Rhea’s voice echoed from upstairs.

Jey chuckled, heading toward the stairs. “Jon and Trinity know how to pick houses,” he said, shaking his head in amusement. He wasn’t wrong—the house was gorgeous, with high ceilings, modern finishes, and a spacious open floor plan that made the space feel even bigger than it already was.

A few moments later, Rhea appeared at the top of the stairs, her eyes still wide with excitement as she descended. Her enthusiasm was infectious, and Jey couldn’t help but smile as she made her way over to him.

Rhea wrapped her arms around him, leaning up on her toes to kiss him softly on the lips. “Just think… in a few days, we’ll be in our own house, two blocks over,” she said, her voice full of excitement and anticipation.

Jey pulled her closer, resting his chin on the top of her head as he breathed in the moment. “Yeah,” he agreed, sharing in her enthusiasm. “Our place. No more guest bedrooms, no more hotel rooms, no more airbnbs. Just us.”

Rhea pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a smile that made his heart skip a beat. “It feels so real now,” she said softly. “Like we’re really starting our life together.”

Jey nodded, running his hands down her back. “It’s all happening, babe. And it’s gonna be good. I can feel it.”

They stood there in the middle of the living room for a moment, wrapped up in each other and the quiet excitement of this new chapter in their lives. The house around them with furniture already assembled, there were boxes waiting to be unpacked mostly, but it didn’t matter. What mattered was that they were here—together, building something that was all theirs.

“Should we start unpacking? Give Jon and Trinity a hand.” Rhea asked after a beat, pulling away just enough to look at the boxes stacked along the walls.

Jey groaned playfully, kissing her forehead. “I guess we should.”

Rhea laughed, giving him a quick peck on the lips before pulling away fully and heading toward one of the boxes. “C’mon, let’s get this done, and then we can relax.”

—

Jon pulled into his driveway, feeling a sense of accomplishment wash over him. After dropping Trinity off at the airport, he was finally back at their new home in Pensacola. It was a bit bigger than their place in Orlando, with the nearest neighbor about a mile away, giving them a level of privacy he hadn’t even realized they needed until now.

He parked the Mustang, got out, and approached the front door, chuckling to himself when he remembered that Jey had the only key. Knocking on the door, Jon took a moment to look around. The house was grander than he remembered from their walkthroughs, sitting comfortably on a large plot of land, with a pool out back that he couldn’t wait to show Jey and Rhea.

After a moment, the door swung open, and there stood Jey, grinning. “Finally, man! You make it back in one piece?”

Jon clapped his brother on the back as he stepped inside. “Yeah, dropped Trin at the airport. She’s excited to see the place when she gets back. How’re things looking?”

Jey gestured around the house as they walked through the entryway. “We got most of the décor unpacked and set up for you guys. Rhea and I thought it’d be a nice surprise.”

Jon smiled as he took in the living room. The boxes were mostly gone, and everything looked settled, with pictures hung on the walls and furniture arranged just right. It already felt like home. “I appreciate it, bro. It looks amazing in here. Trinity’s gonna be hyped.”

Just then, Rhea’s voice called from the kitchen. “Hey, Jon! We’ve got pizza if you’re hungry!”

Jon’s stomach growled, and he realized he hadn’t eaten since early that morning. “You didn’t have to ask me twice,” he said, following the smell of food into the kitchen.

Jey and Rhea had set up a casual spread of pizza and drinks on the counter. Jon grabbed a slice and leaned against the counter, taking a big bite. “Damn, I needed this.”

Rhea smiled, grabbing a slice for herself. “Glad you’re here. And the house? It's stunning. You and Trinity really picked a great one.”

Jon grinned through a mouthful of pizza. “Thanks. We really wanted a place that felt like home but also gave us some space to breathe.”

As they ate, they talked about the plans for the night. Jon mentioned he’d set up a grocery delivery for the morning but suggested they go out to eat later for dinner. The pizza was great for now, but he wanted to check out a local spot he’d heard about.

Once the food was devoured, Jon wiped his hands and stood up. “Have you guys seen the pool yet?”

Jey and Rhea shook their heads, and Jon gestured for them to follow. “You’ve gotta check this out.”

They stepped outside onto the back patio, and both Jey and Rhea were instantly blown away. The pool was huge, stretching across most of the yard, with a walk-in entry that looked like it belonged at a resort. It mimicked the feeling of walking into the ocean, giving it a beachy, relaxed vibe.

Jey let out a low whistle. “Damn, Jon. This is incredible.”

Jon grinned proudly. “Right? Trinity and I wanted something different. I’m thinking of setting up a few chairs out here, maybe a fire pit for the cooler nights. This is gonna be our spot.”

Jey turned to Rhea, smirking. “We’re definitely testing this out soon.”

Before Jon could chime in, Rhea laughed, poking Jey in the side. “We’ll leave the first dip to Jon and Trinity. Besides, we have our own pool to break in, remember?”

Jon chuckled, throwing an arm around Jey’s shoulders. “Yeah, man. This one’s all ours to break in first. You guys can take the second round.”

The three of them laughed, imagining the memories they’d create in the new space. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the backyard, and everything felt perfect. It was the start of something new for all of them—new homes, new adventures, but the same solid family bond that had gotten them through everything.

“Alright,” Jon said, turning back to the house, “let’s relax for a bit before we head out tonight. We’ve got plenty of time to enjoy the pool.”

Jey and Rhea nodded, following him back inside. There was a sense of calm, of peace, knowing that this place, this house, was just the beginning of a whole new chapter.

—

Rhea finished zipping up her bag, making sure all her ring gear was packed and ready for Bad Blood. The upcoming championship match against Liv was on her mind, but she felt confident. She knew this match would be a challenge, but having Jey by her side made all the difference.

Jey was sprawled out on the bed, watching her with a soft smile. He had decided to go with her to the PLE, knowing she could use some moral support in such a high-stakes match. His presence always gave her that extra boost, the strength to push through any obstacle.

Once Rhea was satisfied with her packing, she climbed into bed beside him, feeling the warmth of his body under the covers. She picked up her phone, setting the alarm for 8:30 a.m., as they had an early start the next day. Their flight to Atlanta was booked for 10:30 a.m., and they couldn’t afford to miss it. The stakes were too high, and the journey was too important.

Jey glanced around the guest room they were staying in at Jon and Trinity's new house. “This guest room is way bigger than the last one at their old place, huh?” he said, stretching out comfortably on the bed.

Rhea laughed softly, agreeing. “Yeah, it’s huge. Makes me wonder what the master bedroom looks like. But honestly, I can’t wait for us to be in our own place in a few days.”

Jey smiled at her, turning to face her more directly. “It’s gonna be amazing. Our own space, finally. Just us.”

Rhea leaned in, kissing him softly on the lips. “I know… it feels like everything’s falling into place.”

Jey deepened the kiss for a moment before pulling back, looking into her eyes. “You’re gonna kill it tomorrow, you know that?”

Rhea grinned, feeling that familiar fire light up inside her. “Yeah, I do. And with you there, I’ll be unstoppable.”

Jey chuckled, pulling her closer as they settled into bed. “You already are, babe. I’m just there to watch you shine. By the way, how are your ribs feeling?” Jey asked.

“A little discomfort but something I can manage. It’s not as bad as the first day..” Rhea answered.

As they lay together in the quiet of the night, Rhea couldn’t help but feel excited—not just for the match, but for everything ahead. The house, their future, and the strength they drew from each other. Tomorrow was just another step toward building something even bigger, something theirs.

Jey kissed Rhea, feeling the calmness radiating from her. She opened her mouth slightly, inviting him to deepen the kiss, and he responded eagerly, cupping her face with his hands. Their lips moved together, a soft dance that conveyed all the love and support they had for one another.

After a long moment, Jey broke the kiss, both of their lips slightly bruised from the intensity of it. He couldn’t help but smile at her, the way her eyes sparkled even in the dim light of the room. He gently pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, tucking it away from her face.

“You are my angel,” he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity.

Rhea felt her heart flutter at his words. She loved how he always seemed to know what to say to make her feel cherished. “And you’re my rock,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jey’s gaze softened as he looked into her eyes, the weight of their connection deepening in that moment. “I’ll always be here for you, you know that, right? No matter what happens, I will always be proud of you. You’ve worked so hard for this.”

Rhea smiled, feeling warmth spread through her chest. “That means the world to me, Jey. I don’t think I could do this without you by my side.”

They stayed in that quiet moment, basking in each other’s presence. Jey leaned in again, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

After Jey kissed Rhea's forehead, she reached up and captured his lips with hers, pulling him closer as if she wanted to merge their souls into one. The kiss was soft yet filled with unspoken passion, and Rhea playfully tugged at the band of his boxer briefs, igniting a spark between them that momentarily made the outside world fade away.

In that intimate cocoon, Jey felt a wave of love wash over him, stronger than ever. He never got tired of Rhea, of the way she made him feel, of the electric chemistry that flowed between them. Their moments together were sacred, an escape from the chaos of life, and he cherished every second they shared.

Jey adored how Rhea effortlessly blended strength with vulnerability. She was fierce in the ring, a warrior determined to conquer every challenge, but with him, she revealed a softer side that he found irresistible. It was in the way she laughed, the sparkle in her eyes, and the tenderness of her touch that made his heart swell. He loved her unconditionally, deeply, and completely—each kiss, each embrace solidifying the bond that felt destined.

As he held her close, Jey marveled at how she had become his safe haven. In her arms, he felt seen and accepted, flaws and all. He appreciated her unwavering support, how she encouraged him to be the best version of himself. Their love was a beautiful paradox—intense yet comforting, passionate yet tender.

Jey couldn’t imagine his life without her; she was the missing piece that completed him. The idea of spending forever together filled him with joy and excitement. He never wanted to let her go, never wanted to leave those intimate moments they created alone. They were a testament to the depth of his love—a love that promised to stand the test of time, to weather any storm, and to celebrate every victory together.

With that thought in mind, he deepened their kiss, pouring all his feelings into that single moment, hoping she could feel the sincerity in his heart. Jey knew that whatever challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, hand in hand, united by a love that was unbreakable.

As Jey felt Rhea open her legs, inviting him to settle between them, a rush of desire coursed through him. He broke the kiss for a brief moment, their foreheads resting against each other as he hesitated. "I don't have protection," he murmured, his heart racing.

Rhea's eyes sparkled with mischief and confidence. "I got on birth control again," she replied softly, her voice laced with reassurance. The tension in the room shifted, her words creating a sense of freedom between them.

Jey's breath caught in his throat as he processed what she said. A mixture of excitement and caution danced in his mind, but the comfort in Rhea's gaze eased his worries.

He knew that they had built a strong foundation of trust and communication in their relationship, and her decision was a testament to that bond.

Feeling a surge of confidence, Jey leaned back in, capturing her lips once more, deepening their connection. The kiss ignited an inferno of passion between them, and in that moment, everything else faded away. He lost himself in the warmth of her body, feeling the rhythm of their hearts beating in sync.

In that embrace, Jey understood the significance of their intimacy-it was more than just physical; it was an expression of their love and commitment to one another. With Rhea, he felt alive, each caress a promise of trust and vulnerability. He cherished the idea of exploring this deeper aspect of their relationship, knowing they could navigate it together, just as they had faced every challenge before.

As they pulled away for air, Jey looked deeply into Rhea's eyes, his heart full. "I love you," he whispered, knowing that no matter where their journey took them, he would always prioritize her well-being and their connection above all else. Rhea kissed him even deeper, signaling her love.

In a such a hasty time, Jey had removed Rhea’s underwear and he was kissing his way down her chest, Rhea aching with every kiss. He loved tasting her and he could have the opportunity to wake her up with this, he would do it.

Jey’s tongue dived into Rhea and she let out a gasp as her back arched. Jey lifted his head up, “Don’t want Jon to hear us..” he whispered as he put his head back down. Jey moved his tongue in circles, dance, alphabet… anything really. He was savoring her taste, Rhea had her hand through his hair, she was loving every moment of it. Jey then focused his mind on her clit as he pulled it open very slightly, Rhea knew what he was going to do, Jey’s tongue flickered over and Rhea lost it as she let out a moan but Jey put his hand over her mouth. Jey kept flickering his tongue and Rhea was squirming. After a few pleasure moments he slowly lifted his hand from her mouth and he used a finger to rub her entryway. Almost instantly he felt his finger get wet.

Jey teased Rhea for a few moments and he slid two fingers in and he felt how tight she was. Jey thrusted his fingers in and out as he kept his tongue on her clit.

“You’re going to make me cum…” she managed to say breathless. Jey kept his pace, he knew not to speed up, he messed up one of Rhea’s orgasms before like that. Suddenly, her walls clenched and Jey felt her pulsating as she climaxed, letting out moan of satisfaction. Jey wiped his face as he kissed his way back up to Rhea. Rhea pulled him into another kiss as she managed to flip them over. “No babe I don’t need you to..” he said as Rhea had broke the kiss and started making her way down his chest with small kisses.

“I want to please you…” She murmured. Before he could tell her anything she wrapped her lips around his dick as she moved her head down. Jey felt that primal urge in his body as Rhea went up and down, maintaining her pace.

Jey closed his eyes as he ran a hand through her short black hair, this blowjob he was receiving was different than the ones she would usually give, it felt like she was marking her territory… a lioness almost. “Fuuuuck…” Jey said as she went down lower and lower, almost gagging herself. He couldn’t control himself… he had to fuck her.

Jey used both hands to pull her mouth away from him and with such force he got on top of her and he kissed her to muffle her moans as he thrusted deeply into her. “Jey…” she moaned as the bed started to creak a little at the powerful thrusts he was doing. She scratched his back and it only made him go deeper.

“Keep going… fuck me like you hate me..” Rhea moaned and that turned Jey on even more. Jey let out a primal animalistic moan, “Tell me you love that dick..” He said into her ear.

“I love daddy’s dick..” She said as wrapped her legs closer to him. The sex turned into an almost toxic like encounter, but for both of them it was pure euphoric love making…

“Jey… don’t stop…” The two were now into the point of exhaustion but they kept going. Rhea started to suck on his neck as Jey slowed the pace, wanting to savor the moment. Rhea strengthen her legs around Jey and she flipped them over, now completely in control, she couldn’t help herself but place her hands on Jey’s abs as she rode him.

“Rhea… you’re making it so hard..” Jey said. He was close to finishing as his hands groped her ass. Her ass. Something that was the first thing that caught his eye whenever she would do that pretzel pin as she liked to call it. He spanked her and she moaned in excitement, her pierced breasts in full view and she rode him. It was something he’d never thought he would seen in person, everything sexual about Rhea excited him so much.

“I think I’m gonna cum again..” Rhea said as she picked her pace and Jey spanked her again.

“Cum for daddy… cum for me…” Jey said, he knew as soon as she would cum, he would too. He loved climaxing in Rhea, essentially it would always get them in trouble. The late night trips to Walgreens for the Plan B, it had been became essential for Rhea to carry an emergency one. But now, now that they were out… and she was on birth control, Jey now didn’t need to worry about it.

“Jey!” She moaned out loud as she climax and Jey let out that animalistic groan as he held onto her waist, cumming deep inside of her. She moaned slightly as she slowly slid off Jey and laid beside him. The two panted, trying to get their breath in order. “A quick shower?” Jey said and Rhea smiled as she giggled. Round two obviously in works…

Author’s Note: First and foremost Happy Belated Birthday to Damian Priest! Did you guys also see that title win?! AND NEW IC CHAMP, MAIN EVENT JEY USO 🩵 any Bad Blood predictions?