#so even though i love him i barely speak of him

[chwerio]

BELT LOOPS

PAIRING: bf!vernon x reader

CONTENT: drabble, fluff, established relationship, vernon is very loving here! (possibly a teensie bit ooc), reader has a little anxiety in crowded places, slightly suggestive (kissing, allusions to sex [barely])

WORD COUNT: 1.2k

SUMMARY: three ways in which vernon uses the belt loops of your jeans not for its intended purpose.

note: i love kiwi vernon guys...................................

WHEN YOU'RE DEFIANT, it's usually out of pettiness. Though you aren't directly opposed to it, there's lingering annoyance in your demenor. Vernon knows that when your chin turns away from him, it's a disapproval of your loss in rock-paper-scissors. Well, losers weepers.

"So, I guess it's pasta tonight," he says, following behind you. You can hear the cheekiness in his voice, that of a winner's tone.

You slow down your strides on the sidewalk, making room for him to walk beside you. "Guess so."

He's trying. He's really trying to resist the smile that creeps up on his face, but right now, you need coddling because you just lost a pizza night again.

At the crosswalk, Vernon notices the distance between you guys. He notices the stubbornness in your stance, the way your arms are crossed, and your pursed lips. For a second he actually thinks you're upset, but he knows you well enough that you'd speak up if you had concerns.

"Why do you propose a game of rock-paper-scissors when you never win?" He asks. "You know, we could just get pizza--"

"That'd be cheating!" You exclaim. "And since you won fair and square, we should make… pasta."

Vernon only smirks, nodding to your words. "Right. It would be unfair since I won--even if I was offering to have your choice tonight."

"Exactly." You murmur, watching the crosswalk's signal.

He rolls his eyes, adjusting his leather jacket. Your eyes remain set on the light, avoiding his gaze.

When the signal changes, you’re just about to step forward before Vernon gently tugs at your waist, fingers hooking into your belt loop, making you catch your breath. He casually pulls you closer, then unhooks his fingers and throws his arm over your shoulders.

“You’re a sore loser,” he mutters closely, just loud enough for you to hear.

Your pace falters and becomes one with his, and despite his playful insult, you let one arm wrap behind his back. You exhale through your nose--half laugh and sigh. “Is that offer for my choice still available?”

Vernon clicks his tongue in disbelief, shaking his head. “Oh, I’m not too sure about that. You already turned it down and made a very good point on how that would be cheating.”

You glance up to be met with his dorky grin. “Yeah, you’re right. Pasta it is then…”

He tugs you closer, quickly pressing a kiss on the side of your head. “We’ll save pizza for next time, definitely. No games, alright?”

"Fine, no games." You giggle.

WHEN IT'S CROWDED, it's a mutual agreement that losing each other is the last thing you need happening. Whether it's a concert, downtown, or heck, even a rave, you both agree that you must stick together.

In the sea of bodies, Vernon navigates you to the nearest wall at some house party Mingyu invited you both to. The bass is not favourable. The songs pounding through the speakers are so loud that you don't even hear what reassuring comment Vernon makes everytime he looks back at you.

You lip read, "I dislocated my shoulder," and you know that's not what he's really saying--it's the music's fault, you think to yourself. All you can do is nod awkwardly as he leads you in further.

It feels endless, the shoulder bumping and the occasional running into. Until it actually hits you, well, a body that is. You're inadvertently shoved back by a stranger who profusely apologizes once you caught your balance.

"No, no, it's okay, really!" You assure them. Except, it really wasn't okay. You've lost Vernon.

You don't remember feeling this nervous in a place like this. The bodies around you move like waves, not giving you a chance to look over them. And sure, you have been to parties like this before, but maybe you forgot what those are like without Vernon.

"Let's find the nearest wall," was what he said before you entered the house. It plays over and over in your head until you feel something pull at your waist.

When you look to your side, Vernon's fingers hook into your belt loop, pulling you flush to his side. He slips his fingers out and places a hand on your lower back, ushering you to a more secluded area.

He lowers his head right by your ear, quietly whispering, "Are you okay?"

"Y-yeah, I'm okay," you whisper back. "Thanks though. I was actually a bit freaked out when I couldn't see you anymore. It's crazy in there, I don't know where Mingyu would even enjoy himself."

"Beats me," he chuckles. "There's for sure way too many people in this house. No way that's allowed, right?"

You hum, the weight on you feeling a lot less now.

Vernon takes your hand into his, raising it up to his lips to lightly peck. "Let's just hold hands for the night so we don't lose each other again, okay?"

Gosh, if your heart could not feel even warmer than it already was, Vernon was there to prove you wrong.

WHEN HE NEEDS YOU, he'll never outwardly say it. It's not that he can't verbally express himself, it's just that this is a different feeling. Instead, he'll show you, or there will be signs that your boyfriend is craving your touch.

Whatever mundane chore you're doing right now, he's watching. Not watching how you handle the mugs--he's watching you.

As he shyly approaches the counter, he places his phone on the marble with a light thud to make his presence known, just so he doesn't startle you.

"Hey, Nonie," you chirp, placing the mug back down. Your attention averts to him, who is stalking closer until he stands on the opposite side of you.

"Hey," he quietly says, resting his lower back against the counter, "need help?"

You sigh, turning your back to continue sorting the cups. "No, I'm just about done now. Sleep well?"

"Mhm... yeah," Vernon mumbles, voice low. He shifts his body lazily against the counter, his hands acting as anchors on its edges. "Was kind of cold, though, y’know, since you woke up early ‘n left me." he adds, hoping you'd pick up on what he really means.

And here you are grinning to yourself because you know exactly what he wants--no, needs.

"Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that..." You say, giving him faux sympathy.

Vernon doesn't immediately respond, only letting out a scoff jokingly. He notices that you're not out of arm's reach, so with his hand raised, he sneaks his fingers into your belt loop, tugging you back lightly.

You're glad you aren't holding any glass cups because you barely manage to ground it on the counter before your back meets with his chest.

His head dips to your neck, lips brushing your skin, and he finally mutters, "You can make it up to me."

When he removes his fingers from your belt loop, you feel his hands grip each side of your waist, gently spinning you around so that you're facing him.

"That bad, huh?" You laugh, throwing your arms over his shoulders. "Since you're so cute, I might as well..."

Vernon flashes you his wide smile, hugging you closer. His head leans towards yours, capturing your lips with his. As his kiss deepens, it's a bit lazy but with intent, the kind that expresses himself without needing to say it out loud. Boy, is he glad to have you.

another note: thank u for reading my first fic posted on here

[vanillaxbambi]

+•#behind the camera—ch.1 || lee heeseung.

+•pairing: childhood crush-> idol!heeseung x make-up artist!reader

+* wc: 5.5k

+•contains: eventual smut, mature content. mdni. will add more contents in later chapters.

synopsis: Ten years ago, you broke a boy’s heart with a single sentence on a moving bus. Now he’s a global idol, and you’re the makeup artist assigned to his face for a vampire-themed concept shoot. The moment he sits in your chair—long legs, lazy smirk, fangs and all—you feel it: tension. History. Trouble. Heeseung remembers you. All of you. And worse—he’s not letting you forget. He flirts effortlessly. Teases you in front of cameras. Asks about the past with too much familiarity and not enough mercy. You keep your brush steady, your voice calm, but behind the scenes? He’s unraveling you thread by thread. You swore you were over it. You swore he wouldn’t matter. But now, under the bright lights and his sharper-than-ever gaze, you’re starting to wonder— did you reject a boy…or just delay a man who was far too confident?

m i k a🌷: sooo because of felix flirting with Risabae as she does his make up and making her all flustered…. i thought, hmm 🤔that’s lowkey sooo heeseung coded. (i’m also on a heeseung trip rn so don’t at me okay) reblog and comment so i know that i’m not just here alone losing my mind.

🎀taglist: No pressure to you beautiful flowers to read at all! I love youuuu🌷💝 @heegyukeluv @fatherwound @str8ykids @twancingyunhao @nctrenjunie @allygator-98 @jay-scenarios @hansungie01 @jadedxfemme (let me know if you want to be tagged for future chapters)

chapter one.

when you enter the building, even though you were warned a week prior that you’d be doing some content work with a very popular boy group idol, you’re still overwhelmed by the halted stampede of fans screaming for the member who you’ll be collaborating with.

there’s colorful handmade signs of enhypen and you’re able to narrow down that you’re probably going to work with one of the english speaking members. considering that you’re a mua from overseas, your audience is geared towards the international audience anyways. assuming that you’ll work on either jay or jake was not far from likely.

as your staff continues to adjust and set up, you hurry to the mirror to check if your makeup looks decent enough to face an idol. you figured that this one would be slightly more challenging considering that you’ve only filmed makeup videos with female celebrities… a male idol was going to be… different to say the very least.

on cue, as soon as you finish touching up the natural wing on the corner of your eyes. a group of staff begin to enter and crowd around the entrance. You could basically hear the wall of high pitched roars coming from outside the building.

someone on the phone with a black mask strides through the room looking around before his eyes meet yours. they light up and he quickly races towards you. his outfit is quite bland and his hair is severly bare of any product so you assume that this is the manager.

“y/n! So sorry that we’re late!” The man with the mask greets apologetically.

“no worries. we aren’t broadcasting live or anything like that. if it means anything, I was also running behind.” Your voice is calm and smooth which visibly calms the neurotic manager.

then he walks in.

not jake.

not even jay.

heeseung.

lee heeseung.

the lee heeseung.

your heart drops. your childhood crush has walked into the building and is now going to be seated in front of you for the next few hours. while you touch their face and make him look more and more perfect

it’s insane how attractive he’s gotten over the decade that you’ve last seen him. any makeup that you could add onto his face would only be adding to perfection. now you’re running through all the techniques and shades that would match his warm toned skin.

his soft tenor greets all the other mua’s before finally landing in front of you. you doubt that he even remembers you, his facial expression makes no distinction of any recognition.

“Hello. It’s a pleasure to get to work with you y/n. I watch your videos all the time.” He compliments smoothly.

you pass off your thoughts as a thing of the past as soon as he greets you and immediately slip into your youtube personality. “Oh, i’m so honored! I’m a huge fan of enhypen and it’s such an honor to meet you! i look forward to working on you~”

his brow twitches up as you speak and the smile that slowly spreads on his face makes your body take a visceral screenshot.

“i can’t wait.” his voice is deeper than you remember.

he tilts one side of his lips up into what looks like a smirk before strolling off. you instantly make yourself busy and begin to gather all the skin care products and the make up supplies that you’re planning on using for the video.

“We are going for a dark vampire concept for this makeup look to match with the theme of enhypen’s new comeback in a few months. if we like the outcome of today, we’ll pay to higher you as temporary staff if you would like to join for their usa tour.” one of the important looking women from his team starts to inform you while you roll in all the skincare and makeup. “We just ask that for this video, you make it seem like the vampire concept is purely your idea.”

you oblige and nod. “Of course. I will do my best to show you what i can do.”

heeseung is seated in front of his manager as he washes his face clean.

you nearly drop the brushes that you’re organizing when he makes eye contact with you from all the way across the room. It’s the fact that when you drop your gaze, you don’t notice heeseung chuckling from your transparent reactions.

pull yourself together. you’re the charming makeup artist that men constantly fall for! it can’t be the other way around!

you suck in a breath to gather your composure.

“Cameras and lights ready… roll!”

you start your intro and smile brightly at the camera.

heeseung’s leaned up against the table right behind the tripod, waiting intently for you to introduce him.

heeseung’s eyes bore into you as you speed through your video intro and sponsorships. your hands fly up and gesture through your words. not knowing that heeseung could tell just from your erratic movements that you look more nervous here than you do in your usual videos.

he presence was clearly making you nervous.

“and soo…. I was contemplating on what makeup look I would like to show you all today. after a few pinterest boards later… I decided that i’ll be teaching you a sexy vampire look! And our special guest today will steal a million hearts with this look —will be none other than Enhypen's most charming and talented Heeseung!”

and right on cue, heeseung slowly slides into frame and waves. “hello, y/n.” he bows his head slightly towards you then turns to the camera. “Hello subcribers and engene! i hope you enjoy the video today!”

“Thank you for coming Heeseung-ssi. I can—”

“Just Heeseung is fine.” He interjects with those bambi eyes staring straight into your soul. Those same innocent looking eyes that once stared into yours a few years ago have only matured with age.

Your mouth is still hung open from having been interrupted by him. “Ah, no, no. Engene will flood the comments asking why I’m being so rude!”

He smiles gently before gazing toward the camera. “Engene, will understand… Won’t you? Engene has been requesting for so long that I appear on y/n’s channel for a collab, so I hope we can give you the content you’ve been waiting for.” For some reason his gaze directly toward the camera is mesmerizing. So mesmerizing that when he flits his eyes your way, you feel how intense his gaze was. It’s a good thing you're angled away from the camera so your facial expressions are somewhat hidden. “Plus, didn’t you tell me that you’re also my Engene when we saw each other earlier?”

A few gasps from the staff off camera and one also escaping you as well. He doesn’t take back his words even after the room’s reaction.

My Engene…

His eyes stay glued to yours. Expecting you to say something.

“Oh wow. put me on blast, huh? I uh, yes. I did.” You press your lips together before inhaling through your nose. You take this moment to rip your eyes from his gaze and face the camera with a smile. “I am a very big fan of enhypen, so this is also very exciting for me~”

“Well then, y/n.” He adjusts back into his chair. “I’m all yours.”

Another set of gasps but this time more excited giggles in between.

You quickly gaze over your products and start explaining how you’re going to work on his skincare base. While you do so, because of the way you film your content, you start to talk to your special guest. “So I hear that you enjoy producing and directing your team while recording your songs… Tell me about that.”

For the first time today, Hesseung looks shocked but still maintains the same unreadable smile on his face. “Ha, I didn’t think you knew much about me.”

“I do my research and like to keep up.” You interject playfully.

He doesnt seem to be interested in answering your question which throws you off but not as much as when he asks this. “Who’s your favorite?”

You.

“Um, I can’t choose! All of you are so talented.”

Heeseung narrows his eyes knowingly. “Don’t lie.”

“Well, if you’re asking me..” But you lie anyway. “Jay is kinda…”

Heeseung takes a moment to stare at you while scanning your eyes before he scoffs. His tongue pokes the side of his cheek as he chuckles. “Huh. I see. How do you know so much about me then if your so-called favorite is my friend Jay?”

Two female staff members hit each other on the arm as they don’t even try to contain their facial expressions.

“Uh,” You smile nervously. He’s coming on so strong that you aren’t even sure how to combat it… “You never answered my question...”

“I like watching people improve and the process of how songs come together.” He doesn’t miss a beat.

“I can imagine you’re more interested in how every little piece in creating a song works together, considering you were basically teaching and leading everyone during I-land.”

Heeseung’s brow twitches up again. Unable to hide the amusement on his face. “Wow. You’re good, y/n.”

“May I?” You ask while rubbing your fingers together to spread the serum around your fingers. Trying to cut the intense atmosphere between the two of you.

“Go ahead.” Rather than leaning forward or even sitting up straight, Heeseung leans back slightly into the chair not even bothering breaking eye contact with you.

Your upper thigh inadvertently brushes up against his knee. Immediately sending butterflies through your stomach while your fingers smooth the product into his plump, bare skin. “So Jay, huh?”

Does this guy not know how to move on???

“I uh-“

“I technically wanted to be on your channel first.” He interrupts again. “That must count for something, no?”

really. what was this dude trying to do?? make your heart stop and completely jump out of your chest?

“It just means that I’m doing my job well.” You smile in return. Doing your best at this point to counter any other approach he attempts in making you falter in 4k. In front of the staff. In front of your thousands of your followers.

After applying the cooler toned foundation for the vampire base you turn to the camera and in youtuber-esque fashion, you instruct the audience as you’ve always done. “Since I associate vampires as synonymous to the grunge/goth look, we’re applying a little bit of those techniques onto a blended and natural base.”

“So… when are you going to mention our history?” Heeseung blindsides you again for the nth time today.

Your producer almost spits out her coffee. Now the entire studio is watching with serious amusement. Most of the other makeup artists have stopped to observe.

“Our what?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t remember me.”

You, in fact, did.

What floors you more is, the entire time while you were trying to maintain professionalism, He was fishing for any sign that you recognized him.

What a cocky asshole.

You inadvertently recall your last interactions with him.

*** 10 years prior***

The bus buckles with every bump and pothole.

Your heart has been racing ever since the most attractive boy in school plopped into the seat next to you. You knew the bus ride would take quite a bit, so you mentally hype yourself up in your head to speak the best korean that’s ever left your mouth.

To your surprise, He speaks English fairly well. “Hi y/n. You don’t mind that I sit here next to you?”

“No, not at all.” You manage to squeak out before turning to press yourself into the window. So much for showing off your Korean skills.

“Cool.” He takes one earbud out of his ear and holds it out to you. “Want to listen?”

“Oh, um sure.” You pluck the earbud from his fingers and smile shyly. Trying not to tangle the earbud wires.

“Have you always been this quiet?” He curiously asks after the song ends. “You always hang out with a lot of people so I figured that you talked a lot.”

You did. With people that you were comfortable with. Not with people that you were completely head over heels for.

Yes. You were popular. But you could only accredit the international student status for that.

Your entire time here has been secretly admiring Lee Heeseung from afar.

Just like all the other girls that have admired him. You were just one of the many names and faces that are lined up on that imaginary list.

“We haven’t exactly talked before. So it’s hard to be myself if I don’t know you.”

“Good point.” Heeseung lifts a brow and then sticks his hand out the ol’ american way. “I’m Heeseung. Lee Heeseung.”

“I’m-“

“I know who you are, Miss Popular.” Heeseung smiles, enthusiastically. “Every boy here has a crush on you.”

“Not every boy—“ You start to feel your face get warm while your hands start to sweat. Because the only boy that would matter in that statement is speaking to you right now.

“No. Every boy.” Heeseung scrolls on his phone to find another song. He isn’t even looking up when he adds: “Including me.”

Is the emergency exit near by?

*** back to present time ***

“I didn’t think you remembered…” You blink at him as the smug look that creeps onto his face–continuing to give you heart palpitations. “That was soo long ago, Heeseung.”

Heeseung turns his head to the camera while pressing his lips into a line. Only holding your gaze for another hour long second before his eyes follow. “For those who are confused, y/n and i go wayyy back.” He claps his hands together and tilts his head. “She rejected me 10 years ago when she was an exchange student at my school for our liberal arts program.”

“I didn’t- I didn’t reject you.” A familiar warmth meets your cheeks and you want to crawl under a rock.

“You told me and I quote: “You aren’t exactly my type, I’m sorry.” While we sat together, on the bus ride for a museum field trip.” Heeseung snaps his head back to the audience, deadpanning the camera. “Longest 2 hours of my life.”

Your manager, Rose, has the biggest smile on her face. This was definitely going to pull in the viewers.

“Well after all these years… I suppose Jay being more your type is a better explanation over nothing.” Heeseung tilts his head in your direction with what seems like a bored expression. “Still, doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Far from that. “We weren’t going to work out if I had accepted your confession, I was leaving Korea one week from that point.”

“So if you had stayed longer, you might’ve had a different answer?” He leans forward a bit more intrigued. Someone grab the noose. “What I’m hearing is, you do remember and that you only rejected me because you were leaving?”

“I didn’t think the possibility of long distance would work out…” You stop blending out the rouge eye shadow from the corner of his lid. “Plus. We were 13…”

“Okay then. That’s fair.” Heeseung sits back into the chair. “What about now?”

”What do you mean “now”?” Your brow furrows with confusion. Consider your entire youtube personality dropped at this point.

“The possibility.”

“Of long distance?”

“Of being my girlfriend.”

Jaw? Passed the floor— In the center of the earth. Does this man have no filter?

His manager, of all times that he could’ve cut in, chooses now to cause a ruckus. “Woah woah! Aha! Let's pause right here for now!” He laughs nervously while moving his shoulder into the frame to ruin the shot.

Already, your coworkers have their phones in hand while rapidly blowing up the group chat. You knew that you’d probably never hear the end of it.

Heeseung’s unfinished makeup look and facial expression hasn’t changed considering he’s still looking evenly at you for your answer. “Well?”

“I can’t say.” You put the eyeshadow brush down. Now more frustrated that the attention has shifted from the content of the video to the content of your personal life. Which was already nonexistent to begin with. “I don’t know you personally. Nor do I even have the desire to get to know you now.”

“Oh?” He blinks into a shocked expression, his lips slightly tilting up into a half amused smirk. The corner of his brow curving in question. “Not even after you specifically told me that you’re a huge fan of enhypen?”

How dare he? You weren’t going to let this be out of your control. This was your channel. Your content was what made you so successful now.

“What—”You take a huge step back. You aren’t counting the seconds of silence that you take before making sure to round your shoulders to face the entire team. “….I need 20 minutes, please.”

The restroom is only a short reprieve.

You aren’t sure if it was the loud fans in the ceilings or if it was simply the hum of your heart racing. One thing was for sure. You would rather hide away in a hole now that Heeseung has put you on blast in front of your entire work place.

Your head wardrobe woman— also your best friend, Olive—rushes in to find you propped over the sink with your fingers brushing through your hair.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you knew Heeseung from Enhypen??? AND WHY IS HE FLIRTING WITH YOU IN FRONT OF EVERYONE?!?” Olive hushes out with complete fantic excitement before she, like a good friend should; acknowledges how stressed you look. “Did you just throw up?”

“ THERE WAS NOTHING TO KNOW OR TELL ABOUT. I DONT KNOW. AND I’M ABOUT TO. SO PLEASE LEAVE.” You hush yell back in the order of her questions. Sort of grounding yourself as Olive places a supportive hand over your lower back. Not actually throwing up but on the verge of a small anxiety attack.

Olive knows better than to listen to you while you try to push her away. “I saw pictures from the group chat. Do you even notice how this man is looking at you?”

Your friend swipes into the group chat and shows you the screen.

It’s a stolen shot from earlier when you were applying skincare onto his face. Heeseung’s deep brown eyes gaze so intensely into yours that you can't believe you’re seeing it in 3rd person. The image doesn’t even capture how nervous you were feeling on the inside.

“Why he kinda….” Olive takes the screen back and looks over the image again with her bottom lip caught in her teeth. “He looks like he wants to eat you up and—”

“Olive. Stop. talking.” You say in a way that makes her laugh from your reaction.

“You are totally into it.” Olive stabs at your side. “You got this way with Wooyoung when he was coming onto you hella strong after that one video you did with ATEEZ.”

“That’s different. He was flirting because he didn’t know me. This?” You point to her phone. “is coming from a man that I rejected when he was a boy.”

“How long ago was this?”

“Like 10 years ago.”

“Oh… He needs to build a bridge and get over it.” Olive slides the phone into her pocket while shaking her head. “Well, if it’s any consolation girl, I cleared the room to limited staff. I don’t want you to have prying eyes when you finish out this shoot.”

You couldn’t be more grateful for the kind of friendship that you and Olive have developed over the years of working together. “You’re the best.”

“Is it alright if I ask how exactly you rejected the Enhypen’s, Lee Heeseung?”

“Honestly… He hasn’t changed much since we went to school together.” You shake your head. “He’s just gotten better at it…anyway, I only rejected him because I knew that if I said anything about my crush on him… I’d be heartbroken on my way back home to America. At the time, I thought it was better that I told him that he wasn’t my type. It was the first excuse that I could think of.”

“Don’t tell me that you lied to that man again about how you feel.”

You had two routes to pick from. The serious one. Or the brain rot tik tok one.

“And I’d do it again!” You quote.

Olive rolls her eyes while laughing then aids you to move, patting your hip. “Girl, get back in there. Heeseung’s waiting.”

You glare at her playfully before gazing at the mirror to check your appearance. Your face has restored to its natural color and you can see that having a moment to yourself has done wonders to your nerves. “Fine. But this time. No more breaks..”

Your new resolve is to complete this video without any more hitches to the process.

By the time you make it back into the studio. You can see that most staff that weren’t directly involved in the process of this video have magically cleared the room. Leaving Heeseung’s staff and your closely trusted staff behind. Olive has joined the production team in making sure that things are in order, more so for your mental health, and in support of her best friend.

Heeseung is propped against a wall as his manager seemingly looks like a complete wreck. No doubt caused by Heeseung’s unhinged behavior.

You stride confidently toward the two men and address them with the same professional, youtuber tone. “Ready to continue shooting?”

“Back for me so soon?” Heeseung’s eyes flicker with amusement, somewhat always laced with a smug smirk that hides underneath his neutral expression. “Are you ready, y/n?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Good.” Heeseung brushes past you and makes his way over to his designated chair.

Olive makes eye contact with you as a playful twitch of her brow gives you a bit more courage now that she was there in support.

His makeup look is halfway done and even with its imperfections you can see the vision coming together. This was going to be the best look you’ve done so far.

Heeseung has seemed to tone down his approach. Not sure if you’re exactly comfortable with his lack of brazenness. Though, you’re able to complete the eye look. You admit to yourself that it was easier this time with his eyes being closed for about 10 minutes.

In between explaining how you’re going about the look and what products to use. You find small opportunities to really analyze each curve of his face and how much has changed in his features in the past 10 years.

The small, skinny boy that you once remembered during your short time as an exchange student, has become a man. An attractive and insanely flirtatious one, at that.

“Alright. Let's get a good look at your eyes.” You prompt after brushing on some highlight right against his brow bone.

His eyes are still closed. It takes another beat to realize that he’s drifted off to sleep. A new feeling bubbles in your chest when you start to worry about how much sleep this man has gotten. You witness all the time in this industry, the reality of how little rest an idol gets despite how much they are required to perform and appear on live media.

“Heeseung…” You call gently before you hear a loud clap that startles you and the sleeping idol.

He shudders and his eyes droop a bit from how tired he is. “My bad.” For the first time he looks slightly embarrassed. “You have a very gentle hand. I was completely relaxed.”

“Happens. That’s alright.” Even you’re surprised with the gentle tone that you take on. With a slight hesitation. Then a moment for Heeseung to sit up and shake himself awake. Your hands gesture toward the main camera.

You take a step back to admire your work and move from the frame to allow your team to take multiple angled shots of your detailed eye look. The deep reds effortlessly blend into the espresso brown crease. The liner is complemented well against the shape of his full eyes. The colored contacts add to the fantasy effect that you were looking for. Only the slightest brushes of highlight over the higher points of his face.

The last thing to do, if not done tastefully — his lips.

“Now that we have the vampy eye look on...” You hold the products that you’ll be using up to the camera. “No vampire look is complete without wine red lips to match!”

You go in with a deep wine red and dab the product skillfully towards the center of his lips and slightly blend out to create almost a freshly sipped wine effect. “Like a vampire drinking fresh blood from a helpless victim!” You comically add to the camera.

This whole time Heeseung is quietly observing you and scanning your features as well. His lips bounce with every tap and you can’t help but feel a shudder through your spine when the tip of your pinky brushes slightly against his soft skin.

How would it feel to kiss his lips— Oh my god.

His eyes follow yours. He’s caught you staring at his lips.

Yet. He doesn’t say anything.

If eyes could speak. His eyes would tell you a million reasons why you should lean forward and steal a kiss right here, right now. In front of your entire team. In front of a million subscribers to view once everything’s edited.

He looks enchanting. An actual vampire waiting to pounce and take from you what belongs to him. His eyes scan from your lips then slowly right back to your eyes.

You aren’t sure why but you’re holding your breath.

The moment breaks - someone from the production team comes into the frame holding up a dark outfit to complete the look.

Your manager, Rose, who’s somehow managed to remain quiet this entire time with Olive whispering into her ear, brushes her shoulder against you as Heeseung takes the top and moves to the changing room. “They want to hire you to be enhypen’s lead makeup artist for their US tour.”

Her tone is coated in hushed excitement which causes your heart to race. This was a huge deal especially for a youtube makeup enthusiast who started out in her dorm, recording on her iphone propped up by her english textbooks. Something as incredible as a lead kpop idol makeup artist to add to your portfolio. For Enhypen to be exact.

Just one problem.

On the long list of problems that don’t even start with make up.

One named: Lee Heeseung.

“Why aren’t you excited?” Rose frowns, nudging your arm with her elbow. “You have been such a self made and well liked youtuber for the past 4 years! Your subscribers would love to watch you take on a new adventure.”

“I know.” You sigh. Shifting your weight between your feet while fidgeting with a lip tint that’s still in your grasp. “It’s just… spending so much time with…”

“With Heeseung?” Rose sighs with a knowing smile on her face. “I wasn’t aware that you still liked him.”

“What?” Immediately you dial back and stare at her in complete offense. “I don’t.”

“Girl, you wouldn’t react like that unless you did.” Olive butts in, on the other side of you.

“You can say no.” Rose chimes.

“Yeah, You can totally say no to doing the job.” Olive agrees.

“You say no, and lose the opportunity of a lifetime though.” Rose counters.

“And would be on you, Boo.” Olive nods. Nudging your arm again once Heeseung comes out of the changing room.

Fully clothed and perfect.

His tall frame almost brings his head to touch the top of the doorway. Broad shoulders filling out the tailored jacket around his torso paired with long slender legs clad in form fitting slacks. His larger hands move up to adjust his hair that's now slicked back and styled to suit the look. Silver jewelry adorns his gently tanned neck and wrists. The rings— oh god. The rings. Adorned beautifully over his long, slender fingers- emphasizing his veiny hands...

“Wow.” You find yourself vocalizing quietly to yourself. “I might consider.”

“Get used to that.” Rose whistles, while pulling Olive away so that you can have space to move around the camera.

Heeseung makes his way toward you. You’re not sure how the hour transformed Heeseung into someone more gentle… But he seems more tentative and cooperative with you during these final shots.

You grab a blending sponge and go to dab some spots of concealer that hasn’t entirely blurred into his skin. Up close and personal with his body, you can practically drown in his cologne. The smell of a musky, sweet ocean invades your senses and you can’t stop yourself from taking long breaths in.

“Will you accept?” Heeseung interrupts your thoughts.

“Huh?” You blink, still drunk from his scent.

Heeseung chuckles, turning his head away to seemingly hide his smile from you. “Will you join us for the tour or are you that uninterested in me to actually decline the offer?”

“I wouldn’t use you as an excuse to say no.” You point out, moving your hand back and tossing the sponge back into your tray. “I know a great opportunity when I see one.”

“Good. Your talent should be seen by everyone.” Heeseung tilts his head, getting to your level. “Especially on a face that’s seen everywhere.”

He winks before striding back over to his chair. You’re almost impressed by how braisen he is but you can’t find yourself to be shocked anymore. if you were going to get used to seeing his face you were going to have to desensitize yourself to his charm. despite how attracted you are to him.

The last part of the shoot didn’t require much effort now considering Heeseung’s a literal natural in front of the camera. Yet, you didn’t expect any less.

Even while knowing him from primary school, he shined the brightest amongst the most talented students. You are almost proud of him for getting as far as he has. You would catch him working hard in the practice rooms, playing piano and singing along to all the new songs. Determination at its finest. The fruit of his labor. The success of enhypen. He came such a long way.

“Last closing remarks and we should be good to end the shoot!” Your lead director throws out for the room to hear.

Heeseung, somehow ends up next to you. You weren’t sure he got there but you imagine that thinking about your intertwined past might have caused you to space out a little.

His arm brushes yours. “You have an iphone?.” He mutters barely loud enough for you to hear..

“What?” You don’t believe you heard him correctly.

“For facetime.” He doesn’t explain. “Take my number. This is my personal phone.”

You look down and see that he’s passed you a small piece of paper.

“Aren’t you a Samsung ambassador?” You remember seeing videos of all the members only accepting Samsung phones to hold from their fans.

He chuckles, bringing a finger up to his lips. “Shh.”

This makes you laugh. Pocketing the piece of paper into your small jean pocket.

“You know,” Heeseung tilts his body down so you could hear him better above the noise of your staff moving things around. “I’m proud of what you made for yourself. I knew you'd make a name for yourself.”

His words are flattering and almost nostalgic. You try to slow your breathing in order to sound calm when you say,

“I could say the same and even more for you, Ace.”

* * *

He smiles at his long lasting nickname. He was called Ace long before he had joined the company as a trainee.

Yet, coming from you?

His heart begins to race as it floods with the memories of his juvenile crush.

To him. You didn't just change. You evolved into someone he could match. Someone who would understand his world.

And even though he only saw it on screen these past years, he wasn't going to let this opportunity slip through his fingers-again.

* * *

chapter 2 coming soon...

m i k a 🌷: AHHH! after such a huge slump in writing and actually posting on this account, I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing this! let me know what you think lovelies!!

[shadowlord420sgf]

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Abandoned & Aching

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ xxXShadowl0rd420Xxx | Skips x reader ୭ ˚.

⌗ summary: You left Skips waiting, aching—now that you’re back, he won’t let you go until he’s felt all of you again. word count is 1.6k

⌗ warnings!: female reader, fingering, p in v, missionary, creampie, established relationship, porn with feelings, everyone & everything is desperate, skips is kinda emotionally deranged, fucking on the floor (sorry florence!), i think: hurt + angst with comfort

⌗ author’s note: (you can also read this on my ao3!)back with everyone’s favorite sad emo boy ☹️ thanks for all the support I’ve received on my fics it actually means a lot to me and i love everyone!! like and reblog if you would peg skips 💕 also my irl friend: @funnygirlwriter104 gave me the idea for this fic, check out her dirk one!

It had been some time since you’d last paid Skips a visit. You two had left off on a high note, he asked how you slept and told you about his efforts of keeping the silverfish away. Cute. However, you couldn’t help the excitement you got from speaking with other objects around the house. The dateviators just made you so curious that you didn't notice how you strayed away from the person, or shadow, who loved you the most...

Your ignorance wasn’t on purpose though, so many objects were really so entertaining! You especially liked helping Maggie solve cases, or going on extreme adventures with the Hanks. But none of that changed how you felt about Skips. If only he knew that, instead of assuming that you’d left him for good.

So, when you focus your dateviators on the shadow of Gaia one morning, what you find is a bit unexpected. It’s your beloved Skips, obviously, but something seems to be off with him.

“Hey you.” He greeted, looking a bit surprised that you were in front of him. “I was wondering when you’d come back to see me.”

You winced internally. It couldn’t have been that long since you spoke to him, right? Either way, you felt terrible for being the reason his voice sounded unsure, and a little hoarse like he hadn’t used it in a while.

“I—I know, I’m sorry,” you said gently, stepping closer to him. “I didn’t mean to be gone for so long. I just got caught up with everything—”

“It’s okay,” Skips interrupted quickly. A little too quickly. “You don’t have to explain. I mean, you’re here now, right? That’s all I wanted.” He gave a shaky smile, eyes flickering across your face like he was trying to burn it into his retinas.

He gazed at you like that for a moment before speaking, barely loud enough for you to hear, “I just… I thought maybe you didn’t wanna come back. Like Benji and the others, you know?”

Oh my god, you’ve fucked up this time. You’d left him alone for so long that he compared you to his old friends from way back in his Thiscord roleplaying days. You knew how important those memories were to him, and how hurt he felt as his companions drifted away. You never wanted him to feel like that again.

You stepped even closer, and he didn’t move away. He never would.

“Skips…” you started, finding the words to apologize, but you didn’t get far. He surged forward and wrapped his arms around you like he couldn’t stop himself, pressing your warm body against his cool one. He buried his face deeply into your neck, breathing in. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss this. You missed being in the comfortable darkness and silence around Skips. Everything was just so natural with him.

You hugged him impossibly tight, and it still wasn’t as hard as he clung to your body. Your hands tangled into his hair and he made a let out a noise that you swear was a sob. Oh Skips… His voice was muffled against you, “I really fucking missed you. I kept thinking maybe I did something wrong, or maybe you found someone better. Or maybe you just—”

He cut himself off with a shaky breath. “But you’re here. You came back. You came back for me.”

His words made your heart shatter inside. You pressed a kiss to his cheek. “There’s nobody like you, Skips. No one.” You whispered, not a hint of dishonesty in your voice. “Of course I’d come back for you, I love you.”

He paused hearing those last three words. You’ve said them to him before, and always meant it of course, but it changed something in him at this moment. There was a beat of silence, and then his lips brushed your jaw. Then your cheek. Then—finally—your mouth.

It wasn’t a careful kiss. It was desperate, uncoordinated, messy. Like he was scared you’d vanish again if he didn’t taste you right now. His hands were everywhere—your neck, your waist, clutching tight, tugging you closer like there still wasn’t enough of you against him.

You groaned at finally feeling his lips on yours again, after so long. “I need you,” he gasped between kisses, eyes half-lidded, voice wrecked. “I’ve been needing you every single night and—I didn’t think I’d ever get to touch you again—please…” Skips was practically whining for you.

You nodded, touching and kissing him all over just like how he was doing to you. “Ah…Need you too, Skips.” He groaned again hearing your sweet voice that he missed so much.

“I need you,” he rasped again, grinding his hips against yours with a frustrated moan. Oh how he wishes your clothes weren’t in the way. “I need to feel you. Now. Please—just—let me have you.”

“You always have me…” you mumbled against his lips. “I’m yours—fuck—I promise.” You both needed each other more than it was possible. It would never be enough.

“O—Okay, can you uh…get on the floor for me?” Skips panted, barely getting the words out. You obeyed him with a smile, pulling off your shirt in the process. Shit, everything you did drove him crazy. Skips did the same before slotting himself in between your thighs, where both of his hands gripped. You felt like melting under his gaze… His dark eyes were actually staring into your soul.

Skips moved his hand higher and higher up your thigh, until his fingertips met with your clothed core. Your back arched up a little at how the small touch sent heat throughout your entire body. Skips chuckled, “So wet already, huh? Knew you missed this as much as I did.” Moving your underwear to the side, he pushed a finger into your wet cunt, and groaned as you did.

“Missed touching you like this,” he started pumping his fingers in and out of you, and you cried out his name. “Missed the way you whine for me when I touch you just like this—fuck.” He always knew exactly what to say.

“M—Missed it too—” You couldn’t bother to answer him properly, not when he was so close to making you come all over his fingers and make a mess. “Ah.. Skips, I’m—I’m close,” you managed to blurt out, hips squirming under him.

Just then, he pulled his fingers out of you. “I know, Penumbra… I always know,” he was right, “And you know I’ll make you finish— But it has to be when I’m inside you. There’s nothing I missed more than that.”

His words alone could’ve made you come undone. They made you forget how close you’d just been, made you wetter than you already were. “Yes—Yes, please I need you… need to feel you, Skips.” You mewled, hands reaching for him on instinct & dragging him down into another kiss that was all tongue and teeth and desperation. He kisses you back with more force than you gave him. He’d never ever let go of you.

Skips was quick to slide off his pants along with his boxers in one impatient motion, allowing his hard length to spring up. You couldn’t help but moan a little at how perfect he was. He gave himself a few quick strokes before positioning himself between you again. “Are you ready, my Penumbra? I sure am…” You nodded, voice too broken to say anything except a “Please…”

With that, he pushed into you, agonizingly slow. You both gasped at the feeling, the familiar stretch of his cock and the wet warmness that enveloped it. You two stayed like this for a bit before you whimpered, “Skips… y-you can move, please I need you.”

“Right. S-Sorry, I just missed this—missed you— so much.” Before you could answer in agreement, he crashed his mouth against yours again, hips rocking into you as he began to move—deep and slow at first, like he was savoring the feeling of being inside you again after so long.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, digging your heels into his lower back as he hit that perfect spot in you again and again. You were already so close, pleasure building fast, curling deep in your belly like it had been waiting for him this whole time.

Your moans turned into soft sobs, overwhelmed. “Skips—fuck, I’m gonna—I’m gonna—”

“I know,” he gasped, voice cracking, hips stuttering, “Me too—just… come with me, please. I need it. I need you.”

Before you knew it, your orgasm ripped through you like a wave crashing, sharp and hot and all-consuming. You cried out his name, clinging to him like your life depended on it as your walls clenched around him, pulsing hard.

Skips let out a broken, guttural sound—his body trembling as he followed right behind you, spilling inside you with a low groan pressed against your neck. His thrusts slowed but didn’t stop, like he couldn’t bear to pull away just yet, even as the continued thrusts made you both twitch and whimper.

“Don’t leave me like that again. Please don’t.” Skips begged, still panting. You kissed him yet again, breath heavy. “Never—I’ll never leave you Skips.”

Later, Skips had you tell him what objects you were hanging out with, giving his own input on them. He scoffed when you mentioned that you had to talk to Scandalabra, who Skips refused to interact with. Something about the light contrasting with darkness? It didn’t matter.

There was really no one like your Skips.

[lovemepartly]

pathetic-bf!gi-hun ✩ headcanons

warnings: 18+, smut. pre-games gi-hun bc he was so cute and pathetic and I NEED HIM??

a/n: i love writing for gi-hun sm… thank you to all the people requesting him it motivates me to write more for him😌 also im probably gonna make some post-game bf!gi-hun headcanons… lmk if that’s something you guys want

sfw ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

• gi-hun is late 90% of the time. if you agree to dinner at 5pm, just know he’s probably going to show up thirty minutes late, out of breath from running to your apartment. you almost want to be mad at him but he’s holding a bouquet in his hand. and— well, it’s a little crumpled, but he means well. plus, you can’t stay mad at him with those eyes.

�� loves loves loves physical touch. it doesn’t matter what it is, he just always wants to be holding you in some way. whether it’s a lazy hand wrapped around your waist, your fingers interlaced, or just resting his head on your lap while you play with his hair.

• seeks comfort from you like no other, because you’re different. when he comes home late at night, shoulders slumped, and a new bruise on his face from a fight he got into, you don’t scold him. you just pull him into a hug, kissing him softly, and help him into bed. and he loves you for it.

• gi-hun is constantly planning for his future with you, even though his current reality isn’t the best one.

“one day i’m gonna take you to a nice beach, aein, in another country.” he’ll murmur, his fingers tracing over your bare skin. you can only smile at his optimism.

• way too kind for his own good. it’s a quality you love about him, the way he’s always trying to help everyone— even strangers, but it also makes your heart hurt.

• gi-hun keeps every small thing you give him. whether it’s a card, movie tickets, or a wrapper from your favorite candy. they’re subtle, small reminders of you— the one constant in his messy, chaotic life.

nsfw ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊

• gi-hun’s cheeks flush when you take control, even outside of the bedroom. when you tie his tie, adjust his collar, whisper anything in his ear, he’s done for.

• sooo vocal. whines, whimpers, and incoherent mumbles under his breath when you tease him.

• gi-hun literally lives for praise. he’ll be messily thrusting into you, hair sticking to his forehead, and the second you mumble something like “you feel so good” he stills, cheeks already flushed. also loves being called “good boy.”

• always asks before doing anything. it’s a small, shy, “can i…?” before burying his face in between your thighs. speaking of, he loves eating you out. he’s messy with it and whines into your core like he’s the one receiving. basically, eats you out like he’s worshipping you.

• he loves taking an innocent bath with you after sex. just you, laying against his chest, while his fingers idly trace patterns into your bare skin.

[gukcnt]

06 | SHADOWS OF OBSESSION ⭒ JJK

a criminal's obsession with a shy medical student starts a passionate mix of desire and darkness. As their worlds collide, secrets get exposed and possession turns into love. In a world filled with betrayal and the weight of their own pasts, can they find a way to survive together? or will their twisted bond ultimately destroy them both?

pairing — criminal dom!jungkook x student sub!femreader

genre — criminal au, dark romance, forbidden attraction, enemies to lovers, murderer!jungkook, stalker!jungkook, innocent shy!reader, virgin!reader, medical student!reader, violence, stalking and obsession, contrast of worlds, crime, thriller, smut, lots of angst, fluff

warnings/tags — 18+, explicit smut, angry!jungkook, possessive!jungkook, emotional vulnerability, trauma and recovery, tension, mentions of blood, angry confessions, domestic intimacy, care and nurturing, argument, miscommunication, conflict and confrontation, crying and begging, isolation, sacrifice, escaping, guilt, self-hating, heartbreak, fear and desperation, mentions of anger, several sex scenes, several orgasms, multiple positions, oral sex (f. receiving), use of sex toy, vibrator, making out, biting and scratching, consensual forced orgasm, crying from pleasure, intense overstimulation, dual stimulation, fingering, mentions of blood during sex, safe word mentioned but not used, cum swallowing, clit play, breast play, eating out, face riding, face sitting, tongue fucking, dirty talk, praise kink, oral sex (m. receiving), deep throating, gagging, face fucking, cock sucking, body worship, bruising, spanking, unprotected sex, creampie, missionary, doggy and 69 position, emotional and physical connection during sex, post sex care, aftercare

wc — 8.2k

series m. list | main m. list

────୨ৎ────

The air was heavy with the smell of forest and earth in jungkook's cabin, a scent that felt like a part of you now since you were so used to it.

Like home.

Everywhere in his place held small things of your presence and yet it barely dimmed the tension in your heart.

You stood in the small living room, feet bare and even though this place softened just for you, comforting you in its own way,

It started to feel like a cage now, like the walls were closing in.

You'd been healing.

The trauma of your kidnapping started leaving under jungkook's care—feeding you warm meals with his own hands, eyes constantly watching all your moves.

His gruff voice always murmuring promises of safety to you.

But the ache for your own life, your apartment where you’d spent most of your time, held so much of you, had grown into a need.

You missed your days—medical textbooks, visiting your university and you chasing your dreams.

It wasn’t like you didn’t like it here, the cabin was warm, along with jungkook’s presence.

A comfort you both cherished and resented.

You needed a moment to breathe.

To break free.

You faced jungkook now, his broad frame filling the couch, black t-shirt clinging to his muscled chest.

His hair was messy, falling over his forehead, a cigarette was between his lips.

He was just lazily lounging yet looked so beautifully dangerous and his gaze on you made your heart stutter.

Your shaky hands twisted the hem of your oversized sweater.

His sweater.

“jungkook.” you breathed.

Mustering all the courage you had even though fear was still lacing your words.

“I want to go back. To my apartment. I miss my life.”

“I can’t… I can’t stay here forever.”

His eyes darkened, jaw clenching so hard the muscle ticked. The cigarette burned brighter as he inhaled and exhaled out the smoke almost in a furious way.

“No.”

Just a single word, that’s it.

But so sharp.

The word broke your heart as your eyes glistened with tears, threatening to spill.

You stepped closer.

“Please.” you begged.

Voice trembling with desperation.

“I need to go back. I—I have classes, dreams, a life.”

You looked at him as he didn’t speak further, focusing on the wall ahead but his clenched jaw was the proof that he was listening.

“You can’t keep me locked away like… like a pet!”

His cigarette fell to the floor as he advanced towards you, his steps thudding on the floor, expressing his anger.

You gasped.

His hands balled into fists, knuckles white.

“I can.” he roared.

His rage was undeniable.

“You'll stay with me! I’ll bring you anything—books, food, fucking stars if you want them—but you don’t leave.”

“Not after what happened. I won’t let you get hurt again!”

The air filled with tension as you shook your head, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks.

“You’re not protecting me.” you cried.

“You’re suffocating me! I’m not a thing you can own jungkook!”

You paused before starting.

“I need my freedom. I can't live forever trapped here no matter how much I—”

You stopped, the word “love” caught in your throat too heavily.

His eyes narrowed, breath hitching as if he'd heard it anyway.

He steps even closer now, towering over you, his presence making your knees weak.

“You think you’re safe out there?”

He snarls.

His breath hot against your face

“The world is fucked up and you’re not for it, petal.”

“They’ll hurt you and I’ll be damned if I let that happen.”

He grabs your waist, pulling you to his chest and you let out a whimper.

“You’re fucking mine, you hear me? and I keep what’s mine.”

More tears spilled, your chest heaving with the reminder of his claim.

“I’m not yours.” you whispered.

The lie felt bitter on your tongue.

“I’m a person, not a possession.”

“I need to live jungkook, to breathe. And if you can’t let me, then… then maybe I—I was wrong about you.”

His brows draw together, pain flashing there and you realize you wounded him without wanting to.

His hands let you go, dropping from your waist.

“Wrong about me?”

He repeats, voice cracking.

“You think I want this? to trap you?”

“I’m trying to keep you alive to keep you from the bastards who’d hurt you because of me.”

His voice raw, eyes meeting yours.

“You’re my fucking weakness but I can’t lose you. I won’t.”

Your sobs broke free loudly as you turned and ran to the bedroom—his bedroom.

Now yours as well.

You slammed the door shut and twisted the lock, making sure it was set before you sank to the floor, back against the door.

Your knees drawing to your chest as you cried.

Outside, jungkook's thoughts were a mix of everything.

He couldn’t lose you.

Not after the kidnapping, not after seeing you so broken, your lips bleeding, body bruised all over.

You were the only thing that kept his darkness from swallowing him whole but you were slipping away.

He felt it.

Your need for freedom something he couldn’t ignore for long.

He knew it.

He pounded the door with his fists angrily.

“Open the door.” he demanded.

The wood of the door almost breaking under his rough hits.

“Don’t do this to me baby. Don’t shut me out.”

You didn’t answer, your sobs muffled.

Even though he was away now, he was everywhere in every corner of this room.

Every corner of your being.

You clutched your knees, nails digging into your palms, the pain helping to distract you.

You wanted to run to him.

To fall in his arms and to let his darkness consume you once again.

But you couldn’t.

Not if it meant losing yourself, your own life.

You were torn between love and wanting freedom.

jungkook slumped against the door, forehead pressing to the wood, breaths ragged as his hands were now shaking from the heavy pounds.

He couldn’t risk you in a world that had already tried to break you.

But your tears, your pleas were like knives in his chest.

And for the first time.

He wondered if keeping you meant destroying you.

Pushing you further away from him.

The thought brought out a pained growl from him, his fist hitting the door one last time before he stormed away.

۶ৎ

Your body felt heavy when you woke slightly.

The room was dim and you lay in his bed, your chest empty, the sheets tangling around you.

“no”

A single word that shattered all your hopes, locking you in his world.

His obsession.

The door creaked open and before you could fully understand what was happening, a strong sensation jolted you awake fully.

A buzz pressing against your pussy.

Your eyes snapped open, a loud gasp escaping your throat as you found jungkook above you.

His sudden presence felt like a demon from your nightmare.

His eyes were pitched black, hair clinging to his forehead damp with sweat and his lips curled into a sneer.

Your eyes fell down as you saw a sleek black vibrator in his hand, its tip glistening with your arousal.

“hnnngh oh god—”

Your pussy already swollen with slick that you hadn’t acknowledged and he pressed the vibrator even closer.

Shockwaves of pleasure intensely went through you, that it was almost painful.

Your hips jerked, thighs trembling as you tried to close them to stop the overwhelming assault.

But jungkook's free hand held you tight, fingers digging, pinning your thighs to the bed.

“Don’t.” he growls.

His voice was filled with anger, something deeper, something wounded.

“You don’t get to run from this.”

“Ungh!”

A keening wail escaped you as your hands pushed at his chest, nails scraping his shirt.

“jungkook, stop!” you sobbed.

Your heart pounding with a mix of hurt and desire.

“I’m angry, I’m hurt, please!”

Your strength was nothing against his.

Your palms useless against his strong frame, his body trapping you beneath him.

The vibrator pressed harder, its tip circling your clit in a way that made you see white as your bud throbbed angrily.

Your walls clenching, aching to be filled

Your arousal dripped down your thighs and onto the sheets, your head spinning.

His eyes flashed as he leaned closer, lips brushing your ear.

“You think you can stay mad at me?” he grumbles.

“You think you can push me away, lock yourself in here and I’ll just let you, huh?”

Your tears spilled faster, your loud broken sobs filling the room.

The vibrator shifted, its tip pressing directly against your clit and it was so intense your back arched, a scream tearing from your throat.

“jungkook, please!” you wailed

Your hips rocking despite your protests chasing the pleasure, the torment of the vibrator had your pussy dripping faster as you reached the edge.

Your thighs shook, breaths coming in short gasps as you surrendered to the pleasure.

He watched you.

His eyes unblinking, drinking in every tremble, every cry, his own chest heaving, seeing you experiencing pleasure was like getting pleased himself.

His free hand slid between your legs, not being able to help himself.

His calloused fingers probed your entrance, teasing the slick folds before plunging two inside.

You screamed at the delicious burn, walls clenching around him.

So tight, so wet.

The sound of your arousal so lewd as he thrust his fingers, curling to hit that inside you that had you seeing stars.

“Mmm fuck, you’re soaked.”

His eyes locked on your pussy, staring at how it sucked him in.

“Look at you fighting me but fucking my fingers like a naughty girl.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling from his chest.

You whimpered at the shame, your head thrashing left and right against the pillow, hands clawing at his arm.

Nails drawing blood.

But he didn’t even flinch, his focus on making you cum relentless.

His fingers pumped fast and hard, pressing against your spot with every thrust as he held the vibrator against your clit.

You were going mad.

Now uttering nonsense, nothing made sense and it felt like you're gonna die like this.

The pleasure pain was too much, body shaking.

“I can’t hahh.”

“It’s too much, please please.”

“You can.”

He spoke, voice now soft but no less commanding.

“You will. Let go, petal. Show me how much you need this.”

His fingers thrust deeper, curling constantly as his other hand adjusted the angle of the vibrator and you let out a final wail.

Your climax crashing over you.

Your pussy squirted, soaking his hands, the sheets and yourself in the process.

You basically go mindless.

You didn’t know what was happening, your body not realizing that it squirted for the first time

Wave after wave of ecstasy left you trembling.

But he didn’t stop.

He held your folds open with his fingers and pressed the vibrator harder against your clit, your poor bud so sensitive it hurt.

Each relentless vibration felt like a needle being pierced.

Your hands pushing at him, your legs kicking but he held you down.

“jungkook. jungkook”

You chanted, begging for mercy.

Your voice was hoarse as he plunged three fingers inside you, stretching you even further.

Your arousal dripped down his wrist.

“It hurts please, no more!”

You were getting way too overstimulated.

“You can take it… you have taken my cock, which is even bigger yeah?” he coos darkly.

He knew exactly how much to push you, knowing your body too well—even better than you.

And he's also given you the free rein to use the safeword whenever you want, he would never push you over your limits.

“You’ll come again for me.”

“I need to see it, need to feel it.” he hums.

Your pussy clenched tight, every nerve of your body felt like it was on fire as you moaned.

Your hips rocking, chasing the pleasure pain.

Your body betraying your mind.

He leans down, his lips crashing onto yours, tongue swallowing all your noises, his teeth grazing your lower lip.

“I hate this.” he murmurs.

“I hate that you’re mad and hurting. I can’t stand it.”

His words cut through your hurt and you sobbed into his kiss, your hands clutching his shirt.

Your body trembling as the pleasure built again, unstoppable.

Your second climax hit even harder.

Your body went numb as your cunt squirted again, cries muffling against his lips.

You felt like you'd break.

The walls spasming around his fingers, the stretch a delicious agony, your cum soaking everything and the smell of your arousal was everywhere.

Your body was boneless, mouth agape with drool trickling down your cheek as you clung to him.

Heart pounding.

He finally stopped, pulling the vibrator away, his fingers slipping out coated with your cum.

He brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean, eyes never leaving yours.

A predator savoring his kill.

You struggled to breathe, eyes dilated.

Your tears fell still, the aftershocks hitting you hard.

He grabbed your cheeks, grip firm.

“You have no right to be angry at me,” he rasps with emotion.

“I will never let you cry from pain or sadness. The only tears you're allowed to shed are from this—from pleasure, from me.”

“Do you understand?”

You fisted his shirt, tears soaking it, your heart torn.

“I’m scared.” you whisper in a small voice.

“Of what this means, of what you’re doing to me.”

His eyes softened a bit, thumb brushing your tears away.

You sank into him.

Your body exhausted and your pussy was still throbbing as the vibrator lay discarded, but the feel of its buzz felt like it still lingered.

A pleasure that your body willingly enjoyed.

And the cage he’d built.

You were his and he was yours.

It was a truth that will soon ruin you both.

“There’s nothing to be scared of as long as I’m here…”

Those are the last words you hear from him before you give in to sleep.

۶ৎ

The night was alive as jungkook's bike rumbled through the empty streets.

You held onto him, arms wrapped around his waist, fingers digging into his leather jacket.

The wind whipped through your hair and you wore his hoodie upon his command to protect you from the cold.

Your chest pressed against his back as you felt his hard muscles warming you.

This was freedom, a rare escape.

Your heart raced not from fear but the thrill of him and this, how alive he makes you feel.

How he saves you in his own way.

His silence felt charged with unspoken promises.

You tightened your hold, your cheek resting on his back and the bike's rumble soothing you.

And for a moment you were just a girl on a ride with a man who consumed your every thought, your every breath.

He pulled up at your apartment, stopping the bike and jungkook got off first, his movements quick.

He offered you his hand, fingers engulfing yours as you slid off the bike, legs unsteady from the ride.

His touch didn’t leave you, his eyes scanning you, making sure you were whole.

Untouched by the world's cruelty.

Always making sure.

Putting your comfort and safety above everything.

Inside your apartment, it felt like it was the same, like you never even left it for so long, the terror of what happened the last time you were here felt like it never happened.

The air was clean, the smell of your favorite candle present that you didn’t even lit.

Your books were neatly stacked, that was once a mess, your blankets were folded neatly and kept on the couch.

The rug that was stained with blood was gone.

Someone put so much effort into taking care of your place like it was something precious.

The space felt like you yet not—too perfect.

Something that was done with the hands of a man that was only capable of violence, but your home spoke of his gentleness.

Of his care and devotion while you were absent.

jungkook took care of your things like they were his own, erasing everything that tainted them.

You couldn’t breathe from this, from everything.

From the efforts he puts in and the love he shows but never admits to.

You turned to him, heart fluttering as your eyes welled with tears, bottom lip quivering.

“You did this.” you whisper.

“You made it… mine again.”

He steps closer.

“I’d do anything for you,” he said, lowly.

“But you need to promise me something.”

His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing your skin.

“When I say you need to come to my place, you come. No questions. No hesitation.”

You nodded, breath catching but a small boldness filled your chest.

You tilted your head, lips curving into a coy smile.

“You put all these locks and these cameras.” you say, playfully.

“But they won’t keep you out, will they?”

A growl left his throat, the sound possessive.

“Not even the world’s strongest security can keep me away from you.”

His hand slides down your waist to your ass, cupping it and pulling you closer.

You let out a squeak.

“You’re mine petal. Always.”

A shiver ran down your spine, all his words were the truth of the depth of his obsession for you.

You spent the rest of the time with him.

He sat on your couch manspreading as always, his arm draped over its back, a cigarette was left unlit between his fingers since his focus was on you.

A little too much.

You moved around him, your body hyperaware of his gaze, goosebumps erupting all over your skin as you made tea.

You talked, voice soft, about nothing and everything—your classes, a book you'd read, your favorite weather.

You always talked and he listened intently even if they were such random things.

And you realize exactly how much you appreciated it, how in your life you never had anyone

Who just listened.

A rare smile tugged on his lips, softening his sharp face.

The air shifted when you set the tea down.

You felt your heart race with a confidence tonight that you didn’t know how to explain.

A need to claim him as he'd claimed you.

You stepped between his legs, hands trembling as you placed them on his chest and kissed him, lips brushing his.

This is the first time you approached him when it was always him to start things or lead them, your shyness stopping you.

He froze, breath hitching.

You pulled back, cheeks flushing and he stared at you hungrily with a look that was almost primal.

“Don’t stop.” he husks out.

A plea in his voice

You kissed him again, harder, not holding back this time, your hands sliding under his shirt, lifting it to reveal his scarred tattooed chest.

Your lips trailed over his skin.

The faint salt of his sweat was mixed with his cologne, his muscles tensing under your lips.

His breath ragged as his hands clenched the couch to keep from grabbing you and taking control.

You kissed his collarbone, your breath shaky, placing small kisses, reaching his throat.

Your hands feeling his hard muscles, each kiss was your own way of worshipping him.

For the man who'd broken you.

Who'd made you whole.

Your eyes caught the tattoo—your name over his heart, a mark from when you were taken.

Tears glisten in your eyes.

Your chest tightened and you leaned forward, pressing your lips against it, tongue coming out to trace the letters.

“You did this for me.”

You whispered, tears falling onto his chest.

“I missed you.”

His voice raw as he cupped your face, wiping your tears away.

“When you were gone, I thought I’d die. This was all I had left of you.”

You kissed lower, expressing your feelings through actions, lips brushing on his hard muscles as you looked at the faint trail of hair leading down his stomach.

He was gorgeous.

A man carved from pain, all the scars on his body told stories of his survival and struggles.

Your heart raced as you unbuttoned his pants, your hands shaking.

He lifted his hips, letting you slide them down with his underwear.

His cock springs free, thick and intimidating, you’ve seen it several times before but not so close.

It was massive with veins pulsing, his head leaking precum.

You huffed shakily, your pussy clenching at the memory of how he'd stretched you, taken your virginity and filled you so completely you'd forgotten your own name.

“Go on.” he hums.

Amused eyes locked on yours.

“Do what you want petal.”

You hesitate, cheeks burning.

“What do you like?”

Your voice small, your innocence a big difference to his hunger.

He laughed darkly, the sound making you shiver.

“Just breathe near my cock and I’ll fucking cum… you’re that perfect.”

You blushed, biting your lower lip as you tentatively wrapped your hand around his shaft, stroking him.

Slow and unsure.

You felt him throb, cock twitching at your touch.

His balls were heavy as you cupped them, your fingers exploring.

You kissed the tip, the precum salty against your tongue and he groans, his head falling back, adam's apple bobbing as he gulped.

Your thighs pressing together to reduce the ache in your core at the sight.

He wanted to remain patient and let you take things at your own pace but it was hard, his hands clenching the couch so hard it creaked.

You took him into your mouth, the taste of him almost too much—a unique taste that was so him.

You sucked, tongue swirling around the head, your cheeks hollowing as you tried to take him deeper.

He was too big.

And your eyes watered, making you choke but you didn’t stop, your need to please him overriding everything.

“shitt.”

He growls, hips twitching, fighting the urge to thrust, to fist your hair and fuck that pretty small mouth.

“Goddamn baby.” he grunts.

“You’re literally killing me, hmm yes… so fucking good.”

You teased him, tongue tracing the veins.

Your hands stroke what your mouth couldn’t take and he snarls, not being able to take your ministrations any longer.

And feeling your mouth and hands on him for the first time was his undoing.

He came with a roar, his cum hotly filling your throat and you sputtered, trying to keep up.

You swallowed, your own pussy dripping, the act of pleasing him was making your mind hazy with need.

He panted, eyes wild as he sees you not miss a single drop, cleaning everything like the perfect girl you are.

He saw red, his control snapping.

He can't hold back anymore.

He throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing making you squeal, something he has done several times before.

Manhandling you as he pleases.

Taking you to the bedroom that he’s cared for and kept clean because it was yours.

He grabbed your wrists, pinning you to the bed, your wrists caught in his hand and you panted at the sudden action.

His body caging yours.

He took your clothes off at such a fast pace you forgot to breathe, leaving you bare for him.

Your pussy already soaked, clit pulsing and he didn’t waste any time before he dove between your legs.

He was filled with animal need.

He sucked your clit, teeth grazing just enough to make you scream.

“Ahh, jungkook!” you cried.

Your hips bucking, fisting the sheets

He growls against you, the vibration leaving your lips parted, tongue fucking your pussy, lapping up your slick like a starved man.

Your clit was way too swollen and sensitive and when he bites a bit harder this time, your entire body lifts off the bed, a wail leaving your lips.

“Goshh nghh—”

He pulled you up, positioning you in a 69 position, barely letting you breathe and controlling your body how he pleased.

Your face was over his cock as your dripping cunt hovered over his mouth.

“Take my cock inside your slutty mouth.” he gruffs out.

You let out a mewl and followed his command, wrapping your lips around him, your throat burning already.

His cock was hard again, like he barely softened in the first place.

He connects his mouth to your pussy again, tongue and teeth grazing your overstimulated clit.

His hands gripping your thighs, not letting you run away.

You sobbed around his cock, not being able to keep up with his pace, your tears falling on his cock and mixing with his precum.

“Go on, don’t stop.” he grumbles.

His palm gave you a spank on your butt cheek when you stopped and he started thrusting, fucking your mouth.

“Mmph!”

You gagged, tears streaming, your hands stroking as you remained still, letting him use your mouth and his constant sucks had you very close to cumming.

But he didn’t let you.

“Nooo.” you sniffle, pouting.

It was like he was playing a twisted game and you were stuck in his torment.

“Patience.” he orders, roughly.

He flipped you on all fours on the bed.

You're boneless and weak.

You felt like a rag doll for his pleasure.

Your pussy wet and clenching around nothing, your ass up, face pressed to the mattress.

He thrusts into you from behind without any warning and you were so slick that made him sink deep inside you in one smooth motion.

The stretch was quick and intense, making you let out a broken cry, biting into the sheets.

“You’re so tight.” he huffs.

His hands gripping your hips.

“Always so tight even after getting fucked almost every day, yeah?”

The bed creaked with the force of his fast thrusts.

“Hahh jungkook.”

You called out, drooling on the bed.

His cock hits your spot perfectly and each thrust of his was bringing out expletives from your mouth.

Your climax was building fast after being denied of it for so long.

His eyes were locked on your bouncing ass, watching your tight cunt take him so perfectly as he spanks you again, your skin getting red.

You clenched on him, toes curling.

“Come for me, sweetheart.” he orders.

And you did.

Your body reacting instinctively to his words.

Your pussy spasmed, cum soaking him, your pleas filling the air.

He thrusts hard a few more times and comes deep inside you, his cum coating your inner walls as you gasp for breath.

Owning every part of you.

The room was heavy with the scent of sweat and sex.

He pulls out slowly, making you whimper at the loss and lies beside you, his own breathing ragged, chest rising and falling as he pulls you in his arms.

Your body was shaking with aftershocks—both your bodies slick with sweat and cum.

Your skin tingling from where his hands had groped, spanked, and used.

The bed was a tangle of sheets beneath you both as your nails dug into his chest, your heart beating wildly.

He shifted, his eyes still dark from the passion from before but they softened as they met yours, a tenderness there.

“You okay, petal?” he breathes.

The care in his voice makes your chest tighten.

His hand reached for you, fingers brushing your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized was still there from when you'd cried.

Not from pain but from how dazed you were by everything he's made you feel.

You nodded, throat aching from earlier.

“Yea…” you whisper.

Your lips swollen from his kisses, his cock.

“Just… a lot.”

He hummed and sat up, his muscles flexing but now his touch was gentle as he pulled you into his lap.

Your head resting under his chin

His warmth always a cocoon for you, his heartbeat a steady rhythm against your cheek.

His one hand stroked your back, the other cradling your head, fingers threading through your hair

Untangling your sweaty strands gently.

You hum, melting into him.

“Stay here.”

He says after a few moments and you nodded, too spent to move, pussy sore in the sweetest way.

He eased you onto the bed, propping a pillow under your head.

You watched your eyes half lidded, close to sleep, as he moved to the bathroom.

He returned with a warm damp cloth, kneeling beside you, his eyes scanning your body, not with lust now but with a protectiveness.

Looking at your marks and bruises.

“Gonna clean you up.” he said, gently.

You were too tired to talk, but your legs parted for him.

Your trust a constant thing for him.

The cloth was soothing as he pressed it to your inner thighs wiping away the slickness of your cum and his sticking there.

You let out a contented noise, he moves to your pussy and you gasped at the contact, your oversensitive pussy quivering.

“Shh.”

He soothes you.

His free hand resting on your stomach, thumb stroking the skin there.

“Let me take care of you.”

His eyes flicked to yours, searching, and you gave a small nod, your lips parting in a sign as he cleaned you.

The warmth of the towel easing the ache, his actions a stark contrast to his earlier wildness.

He discarded the cloth, grabbing a bottle of lotion from the nightstand, your usual floral scented one as he squeezed some into his palm.

His hands were strong as he massaged it into your skin, starting at your thighs, fingers kneading your tense muscles, working out the soreness.

You mewl, burying your face in the pillow, his touch grounding you.

“My pretty girl.” he rasps, almost to himself.

His hands cupping your ass and massaging the redness from his spanks.

He moved to the rest of your body, his hands worshipping as always, and you purr under his attention, eyes fluttering closed.

Your own hand reached up to hold onto him.

As your hand brushed the tattoo on his chest, he stopped.

“This,” he grumbles.

“This is forever. You’re forever.”

You reached for him, hands threading in his hair.

“I know…” you croon.

Your voice trembling

He leans down, lips brushing against yours and his tongue enters your mouth, kissing you, his hands cupping your face, coaxing small noises from you.

He pulled back, grabbing a glass of water from the nightstand.

“Drink.” he said, firmly.

This soft, dominating and authoritative aura he had even outside sex when he had to look after you.

Your hands shaky as you took the glass, his fingers steadying it.

The water was refreshing, helping your raw throat, and he watched, eyes dark, ensuring you drank every drop.

He took the empty glass, setting it aside and pulled you back into his arms as you lay against his chest.

Your naked body pressed to his, nipples that were still hard brushing against his skin.

The contact intimate.

He grabbed the blanket, draping it over you both.

His fingers traced lazy circles on your back, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

You both lay there savoring the silence.

“You scared me today.” he admitted.

“Taking charge like that, kissing me, sucking me off… fuck baby, you drive me crazy.”

You smiled against his chest.

“I wanted to.” you say, shyly.

“I wanted to make you feel… like you make me feel.”

You curled closer, your body fitting perfectly against his, legs tangling, your hand resting over the tattoo.

You drifted to sleep safe and warm.

In the arms of the man who's your haven as much as you are his

۶ৎ

You were in jungkook's cabin, keeping the promise that you will be here with him whenever he wants you to.

Tonight you were filled with a purpose, heart fluttering as you moved through the kitchen.

You’ve decided to surprise jungkook and cook his favorite dish—a recipe you’ve learned from watching him.

The kitchen was small but it still felt like home, a part of you, just like it was his, and you were busy cutting the vegetables.

Your hair was tied back in a loose bun, with a few strands escaping it to frame your flushed cheeks, and you wore one of jungkook's oversized t-shirts.

The act of cooking for him, of doing something so domestic, made your chest swell with something you hadn’t known you could ever feel for a man like him.

A man whose hands were stained with blood but whose heart beat.

For you.

You hummed softly as you plated the cooked meat and rice once you were done, each dish cooked with care.

Once you were done setting the food on the table, you stepped back, hands clasping as you smiled brightly, thinking of jungkook's reaction.

His dark eyes softening just for you, a small smirk that made your heart skip.

You wanted to give him this.

A moment of normalcy, after everything he has done for you.

The door creaked open and your head snapped up, your smile wide.

But the sight of jungkook stole the air from your lungs, your joy fading in an instant.

He stood in the doorway, black leather jacket slick with rain and something else—blood splattered across his chest and his hands.

His knuckles were raw, blood oozing from there.

His face was calm, eyes normal as if the blood clinging to him was just as mundane as a simple day.

Like it didn’t affect him at all.

He casually took off his boots, the blood staining against the softness of your shared space.

Your hands trembled as the serving spoon slipped from your fingers, falling against the counter.

Tears welled in your eyes as the memory of that day flooded back—the day he'd saved you, his knife plunging into the man who'd taken you.

Too much blood everywhere.

It painted the walls in red and jungkook's face was unrecognizable, like his soul wasn't even there.

You'd seen him kill.

You've seen the beast he could become and it terrified you.

And now here he was, bloodied again, the strong smell of blood taking away the smell of the meal you'd poured your heart into.

“Why?”

You let out a shaky breath before stepping back, hands clutching the edge of the counter for support.

“Why do you keep doing this, jungkook? That blood—it's someone else's isn't it? You killed again, didn’t you?”

He froze, eyes narrowing.

A flicker of something—anger, guilt—crossed his face before it hardened once again.

He tossed his jacket onto the couch and turned to you, voice low.

“He was tied to your kidnapping,” he said.

“I had to. You think I’d let anyone who hurt you walk free?”

Your tears finally spilled down, your heaving chest.

“Stop it.” you cried.

Your voice rising as you balled your hands into fists

“Just stop, jungkook! I can’t live like this knowing you’re out there killing, becoming that… that thing I saw!”

You yelled, raising your voice at him for the first time.

“You were a monster that day, covered in blood, stabbing him until there was nothing left! It scared me, it still scares me! I—I’m begging you, please just stop this!”

His anger overcame him in full force.

“You think I can stop huh?” he bellowed.

“Killing is who I am! It’s in my fucking being, a part of me ever since I was a kid!”

A sob left your mouth as you covered your mouth to hide it.

“I protect you and I’ll burn this entire fucking city to keep you safe! you want me to be something I'm not? some soft, gentle man who holds your hand and writes you love letters?—”

He pauses before continuing.

“That’s not me petal and it will never be!”

You flinched as you inhaled sharply, backing against the counter.

“I don’t want you to be someone else.” you sniffled.

“I just want you to stop killing, to stop letting it consume you.”

“I saw what you did jungkook. I saw you lose yourself and it scares me! I can't love a man who's always drowning in blood... w—who's turning into a killer every time he thinks he's protecting me!”

You weren’t aware of what you were saying, but you spoke whatever was in your heart and you didn’t hold back.

His eyes flashed at your words, his face a mix of pain and rage.

His jaw was clenching so tight he thought it might crack.

He took a step towards you.

“Love?” he spat.

As if the word were a curse.

“You think love changes anything? I don’t believe in love and I told you that!”

“It’s a lie, dammit and it’s for the weak. What I feel for you is greater than that, and I kill for you because I’d rather die than see you hurt again.”

He looked at you intensely, not breaking eye contact, his brows peaking in the center as if this argument was hurting him as much as it was hurting you.

“You want me to stop? then you're asking me to stop breathing, to stop being me.”

Your knees buckled, your hands covering your face as you sank to the floor, weeping.

“I can’t,” you pleaded.

“I can’t keep living like this jungkook. Keep seeing blood everywhere and living with the fear that you’re becoming something I don’t recognize.” you whimper.

“Please just…try. For me,”

He towered over you, blood dripping onto the floor from his fists.

For a moment you thought he might soften.

He might kneel and pull you into his arms.

But he didn’t.

“You think I haven’t tried? every fucking day I try to be better for you to keep the darkness away, but it's who I am.”

He exhales roughly.

“I kill because it’s the only way I know to protect you, to make sure no one ever touches you again! you want me to stop huh? I can’t change and I won’t lie to you and pretend I can!”

A silence follows after that, you stayed on the floor, tears not stopping, your heart broken.

He turned after that, his footsteps stomping to the bathroom and the door slammed loudly.

After a few moments, you could hear the shower running.

The dinner still remained forgotten, all the happiness from before snuffed out.

You crawled to the bed, body heavy and the sheets, as always, smelled of him, of you, a cruel reminder of the life you'd built together.

A life that was crumbling now.

You lay there silent, eyes fixed on the ceiling, hiccups leaving your lips from the cries and you soon fell asleep.

۶ৎ

You wake up to the feel of jungkook's body sliding over you and the room was even darker now, which hinted that it was late at night.

You lie beneath him, your half closed eyes fixed on his as he takes off your clothes to leave you bare for him.

Your skin flushes at his proximity.

You can smell his shampoo from when he took a shower a few hours earlier.

He moved over you, eyes locking with yours with an intensity that stole your breath as his hands cupped your face, brushing against your tear streaked cheeks.

His expression was desperate and pained.

“You belong to me.” he growls.

As if saying the words could somehow tether you to him forever.

Almost like he was convincing himself.

“No matter what, petal”

Your lips parted, a sob caught in your throat.

“jungkook,” you croaked.

“I can’t… I can't do this. I can’t let you ruin yourself for me.”

His eyes darkened farther, a hurt in his features but he didn’t respond, not with words.

Instead, he kissed you slow and deep, capturing your lips hungrily as you wept, tongue silencing your cries.

His tongue tracing your mouth, tasting the salt of your tears and how you surrender to him so easily.

You melted into him once more.

The last time.

Your hands clutching his shoulders, nails digging, clinging to the man who'd become your whole life.

Even as you knew you had to let him go

He shifted, settling between your thighs, his hard cock pressing against you.

Your pussy soaking for him because it was so used to him now, sensing him like every part of your body.

He didn’t rush his movements, it was slow almost reverent.

As if both your bodies just knew this would be the last time they connect.

Even though he wasn’t aware of what's going to happen.

“Look at me,” he commands.

“Don’t hide from me… not now.”

You met his gaze, eyes wide with unshed tears.

“I’m scared for you, of us, of what you’ll become if I stay.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment you thought he might break, might let the walls around his heart down.

Instead, he pressed his forehead to yours, his breath brushing against your lips.

“You can’t love me.”

He says, like he can hear the words without you saying them.

“I’m not made for it but fuck, do I need you. I need you more than I need anything.”

Like he cant breathe without you.

The words twisted your heart even more but you didn’t pull away.

You couldn’t.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, pussy clenching with need.

With the desperate desire to hold onto him.

Even if just for this night.

He groans lowly as he feels your heat and readiness and he positions himself, the head of his cock nudging your entrance.

“Tell me you’re mine.” he demands.

Eyes searching yours for the answer he wants.

“I’m yours.”

Your voice breaks as you look away.

Tears soaking the sheets, you couldn’t look at him and lie.

“Always jungkook”

He then thrusts into you slowly and you gasp, your walls welcoming him easily.

You arched into him, hips rising to meet his.

“Fuck baby.” he signs.

His voice thick as he grabs one of your hands and pins it beside your head, intertwining both your hands together.

You moaned, your free hand sliding up his back, feeling his muscles and scars for the last time.

Your pussy pulsed around him with each of his thrusts, your nipples brushing against his chest with each thrust.

“mhmm ohh—”

You whine.

The position was intimate, his weight pinning you, his eyes never leaving yours.

You felt every inch of him, the rhythm of thrusts slow and deep, unlike other times when he takes you hard and fast.

“jungkook!”

Your voice high and needy.

“Ohh god… yeah.”

He leans down, his teeth biting your earlobe, making you squirm.

“Take it baby.” he says hoarsely.

His deep thrusts pounded you and it was hitting your spot.

Each movement a promise, a plea and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, moans rising every time he hits your sweet spot again and again.

“Yeah? you like it there?” he scoffs.

Your pussy clenches on him tightly at his words, drawing a groan from his lips.

His eyes never leaving your face, looking at all your reactions, his hips moving according to your noises, knowing exactly how to please you.

“You’re so beautiful.”

His voice softer now, almost broken.

His words pushed you over the edge, your clit pulsing almost painfully as your orgasm crashed over you.

Your cum soaking him.

“Nghh, jungkook!” you sobbed.

Nails raking his back, your toes curling, heart thudding with the force of your release.

He looked at your bouncing breasts, groping one and pinching the nipple between his fingers, making you wail.

He kept going, thrusts harder now, chasing his own climax, overstimulating you in the process, his eyes locked on yours.

“I can’t lose you.” he growls.

The wet slap of skin against skin was an obscene noise in the room, along with the headboard hitting the wall.

“I won’t survive it, petal.”

His hips slam onto you one last time before his cum fills you, mixing with your own, and the sensation was overwhelming—something he can never tire of.

Your pussy milked him.

Your teeth sank into his shoulder as a second orgasm ripped through you, so intense you saw stars.

Your tears falling.

He collapsed onto you his weight heavy but grounding, arms wrapping around you.

His lips left open mouthed kisses wherever he could reach against your skin, along with your lips.

You clung to him, tears soaking his skin.

Your moans faded into soft whimpers and he didn't pull out just yet, your pussy throbbing around his softening cock.

He thought your tears were from pleasure from your connection, but they were from something deeper—a farewell you couldn’t voice.

You memorized him—the heat of his skin and the steady beat of his heart against yours.

You traced the tattoo of your name, fingers lingering as you leaned down, lips brushing it.

A brand of you that he will carry even in your absence.

You lay on his chest, his arms around you and you soon felt his breaths slowing, his face relaxed as he fell asleep.

You look at him, asleep, he looks younger, almost innocent.

Not a murder, not a monster.

Just jungkook.

The man who'd loved you in his twisted, obsessive way.

Though he never believes in the existence of love.

You watched him, your heart full, pussy still warm, dripping with his cum because he filled you to the brim.

But your thoughts were all over the place.

If you stayed, he'd keep killing, his darkness would keep on growing and growing.

Killing you both in the process.

You'd seen it—the blood, the knife, the man's lifeless body that jungkook took away.

He'd turn into something even he couldn’t recognize.

And the worst part.

You'd be his weakness, a chain that will drag him further into committing crimes.

Before you, he'd been unstoppable, a man without any weakness, no one to hold onto, no one that would break him.

He needed to be that again.

For his survival, for yours.

You couldn’t be the reason that will eventually get him killed, you couldn’t let your love blind him like this.

You slipped from his arms, slowly, your body still weak from the sex.

You dressed silently, body trembling.

You packed your things—whatever you could find near you—your clothes, some of your medical textbooks and other necessary items.

You also take the pink teddy bear he’d given you, you couldn’t leave it behind.

It will be a comfort you could cling to in the days to come.

When you missed him, needed something and felt lonely.

Your eyes finally fell on the money you'd saved tucked in a small bag, enough to get you far from this city.

From him.

You stood over him, covering your mouth to stifle the sob that wanted to escape you, the cry of heartbreak.

He slept unaware, his lips slightly parted, tattooed arm flung across the place where you'd been.

You leaned down, your lips brushing against his, careful not to wake him as you kissed him softly.

Tasting him—salt and smoke, hoping to keep it in your memory as long as you can.

“I love you.” you whispered.

For the first time vocalizing about it.

A confession to the man who'd never hear.

“I’m sorry… I have to do this. For us”

Your hand lingered on his chest, tracing his skin as your body shook with a sob again.

The pain of leaving him felt like a physical ache, sharper than anything you’ve felt.

You grabbed his black hoodie, that carried his scent.

A piece of him to hold onto.

You slipped out, not looking back anymore, you feared you would change your mind and get back in his arms.

Forgetting everything.

The door closes with a soft click.

You walked, your mind numb, until you stopped at the bus station, you boarded once the bus came, bag clutched to your chest.

The city went past, everything fading, a place that once held your love.

The obsession jungkook held for you slipping away.

You cried, your sobs muffled by the hoodie.

Your body curled into itself, the scent of him the only thing you have to cling onto.

You prayed he'd live.

That he’d find his way back to the shadow he’d been, that he wouldn’t ruin himself for you.

You prayed you'd survive this empty space in your heart, an absence that will always be there for the man who'd been your everything.

A home you never had.

But the road stretched on.

Leaving everything behind, a piece of you left with him forever.

────

taglist: @wintaemoonjen @minewlove @chaelvrx @nanisblogg @slutology00 @kelsyx33 @furioustrashlover @jjeonjjk7 @kooever @svnbangtansworld @xcviis @asyr97 @ttanniett @bratzdaull @yunhoswrldddd @jeonzll @endlesslysassy @elmarimochi9513 @fangirl-coco-goddess @lisax-30 @moodytangerine @taetaecatboy @katwiththatrat @yikes-ukiyo @minimoninini @lachimolalajeon @flutterguk @snuglymalicioussea @nellbyy @l4yl44 @captainengineer-trixie @cristy-101 @universallywizardkoala @kookxin @mageprincess7 @satisfied18 @existentialzaddy @strawberryberrygirl @tranquilreign @honeybearmin @melooooosusupp @thvflowr @granataepfelchen @cherricherryy @tatamicc @minghaosimp @kooko009 @clrwonuu @withmuchluv-tannie

[stevesgother]

Give me Steddie where Eddie's having a depressive episode and his best friend Steve (who he definitely does not have feelings for and who does not have feelings for Eddie) comes over to check on him and finds him in a complete state of disrepair.

Eddie's curled in on himself atop his bed, tangled in his duvet. He hasn't even been able to bring himself to drag his tired body to the living room to rot there instead; anything he's eaten in the past week was brought to his room and all but force fed to him by Wayne.

And Steve-- who knows he gets like this every year around the anniversary of his mother's passing despite him having been young enough to barely remember it-- makes his way to the Munson trailer equipped with an arsenal of tender love and care.

His knocks go unanswered, obviously. So, he lets himself in.

The trailer is dead quiet; dust floats in the beams of late-afternoon light that filter in from the windows. He knows exactly where to find his friend.

Steve pushes into Eddie's bedroom shoulder-first, "Hey, champ."

"Don't call me that." Eddie mutters, voice muffled with annoyance and where his mouth presses into his decade old, flat-as-board pillow.

"Sorry- would you prefer 'buddy'? Or maybe 'greaseball'?" Steve sets down the grocery bag of random shit he brought on Eddie's desk, "I think I like greaseball."

Steve's aware that the only way to penetrate Eddie's exterior when he's like this is with humor. But Eddie's not laughing, despite his shoulders shaking.

"Oh, dude- I'm sorry, man. I was just messing around," Steve assures him, rushing to sit by his side on the edge of Eddie's bed.

"I know," Eddie sniffles, congested.

Hesitantly, Steve pulls the covers off of Eddie's limp body, skin so pale you could see the blue outlines of his veins, despite it being the middle of July already. Eddie had always been a beautiful shade of milky quartz, but this was something different entirely.

When Eddie shifts, he can see the knot of tangled hair at the crown of his head; can smell the body odor that only comes from days of rotting in your bed. Steve doesn't mind though, doesn't even flinch.

"Don't- I'm gross." Eddie protests when Steve tries to touch him.

"Don't care," Steve waves, "Let's get you in the shower though, yeah?"

A fresh round of tears begins to well in the corners of Eddie's eyes, "I can't. I don't feel like I can."

"It's okay, I'll help." Steve tells him without a second thought, like that's what he was planning on doing anyway whether Eddie felt strong enough or not.

Eddie's brows marry, "Like, in the shower?" He asks with an air of incredulity.

"Why not? We're both guys, it's not weird. You can wear swim trunks if you feel more comfortable."

So that's how they end up in the shower, both naked as the day they were born, because that's normal for buddies to do, right? If Eddie were less depressed, maybe he'd be more embarrassed. If Steve were less concerned for Eddie's wellbeing, maybe he'd be more turned on. They will not talk about this later.

Steve's fingernails scratch soothingly through Eddie's scalp, massaging the shampoo as thoroughly as possible; he doesn't know if he'll ever have this opportunity again, and he wants to make Eddie feel good. Always.

His fingers comb the knots out of his long black curls, coating them with cedar scented conditioner. Steve's never been so privy to Eddie's smell before. In the foggy shower, he's surrounded by it-- like a cloud of his greatest desire.

After a while, it seems the energy it's taking to hold his head upright is more than Eddie possess. He rests his forehead tentatively against Steve's damp shoulder, breathes deep when he realizes Steve isn't pushing him away.

The contrary, actually. Steve pulls him in closer, wraps his solid arms around Eddie's frail frame and rubs circles into his back where the soap runs down the notches in his spine.

"I love you, Teddy." Steve speaks softly into Eddie's ear. The only person Eddie allows to call him that. The only person who's ever wanted to.

"I love you, too."

[thewayilikemycookie]

📞┆Too Busy Being Yours .ᐟ

Spencer Agnew x gn!reader

Summary: When you are feeling overwhelmed, Spencer is there to comfort you in every way he can.

Word count: 684

You could count with your fingers the amount of times you’ve zoned out during this video alone. It was a ‘don’t win Mario party’ scheduled at the end of the shoot day and you were sitting next to Spencer and Chance, who were both bringing the energy for this video.

“Hold” Alex called “Scott needs to fix an issue with your mic, Chance, can you come over here? And you guys can take five.”

Spencer instantly tuned to face you “You okay?” He asked with sympathetic eyes

You looked at his concerned expression and tried to speak your feelings, but no words came out. You decided to simply bury you head in the crook of his neck and reach for his hands. You felt as if he understood your thoughts immediately, shifting his position to comfort you.

You felt him place a soft kiss on your head. And though you were eternally grateful for his sweetness and wanted to thank him, you couldn’t even formulate a coherent sentence at the moment.

“You got this” He whispered and the tenderness of it all made you look up

“I love you so much” you said

“I love you more” He softly smiled and laid a final kiss to your forehead

You managed to survive the rest of the video, getting second place overall, profusely thanking Shayne for getting first, as you dreaded the idea of wearing the cone for the next one.

After you took your mic off, you walked towards Spencer “When are you leaving?” You asked

“I gotta fill out a few requests for the art department” You frowned at his answer “why?” “Cause I want you to come home with me” you frowned, reaching for his hand

“I’m sorry baby,” tucked in a strand of your hair “but their deadline is today”

“Can I wait for you then?” You asked

“You’re welcome to,” he smiled “but I would feel a little guilty to be the one to keep you waiting”

“I would wait until eternity for you, Spencer Agnew”

You laid down on the games pod couch while you waited for him, using the time to read your book. After Spencer was done, you both made your way to his apartment and he did everything he could for you. He ordered your favorite food for you, landed you makeshift pj’s for when you’re done with your shower and put on a cooking competition show, knowing you loved them.

Now, you were curled up on the couch right next to him, wearing one of his hoodies (which you suspected he chose because he likes seeing you in his clothes) and eating your favorite food.

“isn’t it crazy how you’re always joking about being misogynistic but then you do all of this for me”

“It’s just a joke though, I would never treat a woman like that, specially you” He looked over at you with a smile

“I know. You’re one of the good ones,” you smiled back at him “the best.”

“Isn’t that the bare minimum?” He laughed

“treating someone well, yes,” you explained “but ordering their favorite food and watching their favorite show, I don’t think so”

Spencer nodded, but he didn’t agree with you exactly. In his mind, he would do all of it and more without any hesitation if it means you would feel at least a little better. If he loved someone, he would make sure to show them that through every single way he could.

When he noticed you were starting to drift off, Spencer asked you if you wanted to go to sleep, to which you said yes. You tried helping with the dishes, but he told you not to worry.

So you got into bed with Spencer holding you tightly and started to drift off again. After you fell asleep, he kissed your head once again. If he felt like you needed it, he would do it all over again tomorrow, then the next day, then the day after.

Maybe it was a little surrealistic, but he was too busy being yours to care.

A.n: Inspired by Hozier’s cover of “Do I wanna know?”. Also I’m sleepy so idk if this is good, hope you have/had a good day, love ya!! <3

[sunsetcupid]

IT’S NICE TO HAVE A FRIEND (PART 1) ; 2025 ROOKIES, MV33, & FA14

synopsis: Y/N L/N meets six boys that will change the course of her life forever. Also known as the Friends!AU.

trigger warnings: Use of Y/N; Use of feminine pronouns from the reader’s perspective; Descriptions of romantic acts and behaviors; Suggestive remarks; Mentions of cheating; Use of curse words in English, Italian, French, Spanish, and Portuguese

a message from the author: There are a lot of languages used in this series, because the rookies are from all different countries, so make sure you have a translator available if you do not speak the languages. Anyways! Finally, Part 1 is released... I hope you all love this universe, just as much as I do.

The hallway was barely lit. You knew your father would have called it a safety hazard, one that needed to be repaired before somebody got seriously injured, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Because your boyfriend of nearly six months had just broken up with you, completely out of the blue. 

You would have taken the news better if it had been something you were expecting. If the two of you had been arguing every day over the phone, or if you’d been crying nonstop for weeks, maybe it would rectify the situation you were in. Except, none of that was true. Mateo had been a dream boyfriend, always attentive to the little details and eager to spend time. You had no idea why he had suddenly decided to split up.

Right now, you were numb. You knew the tears would come later, but for now, all you wanted was some time to be introspective. Finding that would be difficult if you stayed inside the flat, with your father there to pick apart every detail of the story. As much as you loved him, he was incredibly nosy: one sign of your despair and heartbreak, and he’d be on you like a hawk. It was why he was such a good landlord – he was someone that others could rely on to solve a problem.

Nevertheless, this was one issue you wanted to grapple with alone. You moved down the stairs, holding onto the metal railing as you padded past Apartment 104. It was embarrassing how you had to act in this particular space; there was an annoying middle-aged man staying in that flat who, somehow, could hear every noise. Even walking hurt his ears. 

You straightened back up, tightening your knapsack across your back and heading down the cobblestone lane to where it met the rest of the town. It wasn’t what you would typically define as small, but it was cozy, and there were lots of places you could find peace and quiet in.

The sky above you was warm and sunny, and you shielded your face from the rays. You hadn’t thought to snag a cap from the hook behind the door, but then, you hadn’t even gone home at all. Your father was probably meeting with clients or busy with work, and he wouldn’t miss your absence until later.

You made it to the town center about ten minutes later, and wove through the crowd efficiently. Growing up in the same place, never moving towns like so many of your peers did, ensured that you would know the quickest paths. 

A café at the end of the road was your destination; nicknamed Moonbeam, it was one of your favorite places to frequent. With black-and-white checkered tiles, blue-leathered booths, and vinyls taped up on the walls, it was retro and oozed charm. You took a menu from the counter (even though you weren’t that hungry) and sat down in one of the corner spots, leaning back and resting your head on the soft material. 

“Is this seat taken?” a voice floated in front of you, and you jolted up, meeting the eyes of an unfamiliar teenage boy. He had dark curls and a pale complexion that made you wonder if he ever saw sunlight, but his smile was genuine and he looked sweet enough.

You shrugged one shoulder. “You can sit, if you’d like.”

“Thanks,” the boy said. “I’m Ollie. I’m new here, and my friends recommended this café to me. Do you like it here?”

“I’m Y/N.” You introduced yourself, then tapped your foot against the floor, thinking. “I mean, if you’re looking to go back in time to the ’50s, it’s pretty great. And the food is good too.”

Ollie snorted at your answer. “Good. I’m glad they didn’t lead me astray.”

“Where are your friends?” you asked, trying not to seem too curious. There weren’t a lot of boys your age here, just the few lads you knew in school – and they were not worth your time.

He blinked. “Um, probably back at the flat playing video games. They kicked me out.”

You spluttered out a laugh. “And why’s that?”

“You like asking questions,” Ollie said, “But that’s not quite fair. I’ve only asked one.”

You propped your elbows on the table, meeting his gaze. “So ask another one, to make it equal. If you dare.”

“Why are you here?” The question came a moment later, rapid-fire, and you exhaled, having expected something more nefarious.

“Because I’m really craving a raspberry waffle, and this place makes them so scrumptiously. I’m telling you, one bite and you’ll be addicted,” you fibbed, the color in your cheeks rising the slightest. That hadn’t been the full reason why you were here, but Ollie didn’t need to be let in on that secret quite yet. “Seriously, though. Why did they kick you out? You seem nice enough.”

Ollie rolled his eyes. “I may have accidentally…used one of their shavers without asking. I was out, and I didn’t think they would notice, or care. We share stuff all the time.”

“Even personal things like razors?” Your eyebrows creased in confusion. “I mean, I hate to say it, but I’m on their side. It’s fine if my friend uses my stuff, but I’d like to be warned beforehand. And for something like razors? Yikes…”

Ollie pouted. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“So…how long are you staying here?” You picked up the menu, perusing its contents as you waited for Ollie to answer.

“We’ve moved permanently,” he informed you. “Because this city has the only university we all got accepted to.”

“Yeah?” you grinned. “Oakland’s a decent university. I’m going there in the fall.” 

Ollie nodded. “We’ll be starting then too. Maybe we’ll see you around?”

“Sure.”

A waitress with a bobbed haircut and too much red eyeshadow came up to take your orders, and Ollie ordered the same thing as you did – a large stack of raspberry waffles, with a vanilla milkshake on the side. “You’re a copycat, did you know that?” you teased.

“Hey, I’m trusting the seasoned veteran! Don’t judge me,” he countered with a growing smirk on his face. “You’re the one who knows what options are the tastiest. I’m just following your lead.”

You rolled your eyes, but secretly, you were pleased. It was nice to know that somebody believed what you had to say, when so many times, others doubted you. 

More specifically, your father. Which reminded you – “I think I’m going to have to take my food home,” you blurted out. “My dad’s going to be home soon and he’ll be absolutely furious if I’m not there.”

“Ah, OK,” Ollie said, his voice tinged with some disappointment. “That’s fine.”

The food arrived a minute later, and you were able to snag a box from the waitress, who looked a little concerned. “I’m sorry, Ollie,” you apologized profusely as you stood up to leave. “I’ve never been grateful to live in a small town, but at least it guarantees that I’ll see you around sometime. I promise.”

Ollie nodded. “Don’t worry about it, Y/N. It was nice meeting you.”

“And the same to you!” you chirped back, beaming. 

Because he was right – your town had just gotten a lot more interesting…

Safely back upstairs in your penthouse flat, you put the waffles in the refrigerator. Your father, Max Verstappen, stood behind you, his beady blue eyes laser-focused on your every movement. “Why didn’t you text me?” he said gruffly. “You know you’re supposed to tell me where you are going when you don’t come home.”

“I didn’t think you’d care,” you grumbled. 

He adjusted his position, crossing his arms. “What aren’t you telling me? I know you’re hiding something.”

You whirled back around, annoyance flaring in you like a burning hot flame. “I’m fine, Pa, I told you already.”

“Don’t give me that attitude.” His jaw flexed. “I care about my daughter. When she disappears without a single message, I am allowed to be worried. Now, I won’t ask again nicely. What is wrong?”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “My father won’t leave me alone. That’s the issue.”

“Give me your phone.” His voice went steely, and your body tensed. Your father’s frigidity was worse than his outbursts, and you hurried to comply, although you were reluctant to do so. He unlocked the phone, scrolling through your messages, and then he looked up. “What happened with Mateo?” he questioned calmly.

Your face burned instantly with the mention of your boyfriend – no, ex-boyfriend. It was still hard for you to reconcile the fact that he had broken up with you. “Nothing.”

“Really?” Your father scowled. “Then explain this.”

[YOU] Mateo, I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did. 

[YOU] Forgive me, please. Take me back.

[YOU] I’ll do anything, I swear.

“It was a joke,” you lied defensively. “It’s not…”

His eyebrows furrowed. “You must think I’m stupid if you believe I’d fall for that. Did he end the relationship?”

Tears suddenly pricked your eyes, and you blinked them back rapidly. “Yes, Pa. He did. And I don’t know why,” you exclaimed. “I don’t.”

“I never liked him,” your father mused. “He always acted so superior, like he was out of your league and you were not worth his time. You’re much better off without him.” He handed you back the phone. “Don’t lie to me again or you won’t be getting this back for a week.”

You inclined your head slightly. “Het spijt me.” I’m sorry.

“Go do your homework. I’ll have dinner ready in an hour, so be ready.” Your father walked away, leaving you in the kitchen and shaken to your core.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Ollie. Stop doing that, will you – ?” A voice echoed throughout the hall, and you poked your head out to see what the commotion was about. A boy with slicked-back blond hair was gesticulating wildly to someone who was out of your line of sight. He had a thick accent, not exactly British…maybe Australian? You couldn’t quite put your finger on it. “Kimi, can you please reason with him? He took my Cars DVD, and I can’t watch it anymore.”

“Porca miseria! Why am I being dragged into this?” You assumed it was Kimi who spoke next, with an agitated lilt to his voice. “Ollie, please end this argument. Let him watch Cars again.”

“No!” A third voice was added to the ruckus, and it was one you were familiar with. This Ollie was the same as the boy you had met at Moonbeam! Your heart leapt. “I won’t – he keeps playing it on loop, I’m tired of it. I can hear it through the walls.”

The blond-haired boy uttered a low curse. “It’s not yours to take away. I bought it, so I own it, and I can play it whenever I want.”

“Liam, give it a rest. No one cares about Lightning McQueen!” Ollie seethed. “My ears are going to bleed if you play it one more time.”

Liam opened his mouth to say something, but Kimi interrupted before he could. “Give back the DVD to Liam, and he’ll promise not to play it until the weekend. That gives you three days to recharge, sì?”

“I need something more like three years, but fine.” Ollie said, exasperated. “It’s in my bedside drawer, under…you know what, I’ll get it myself.”

He ducked back inside the flat, and Liam deflated as the anger left him. “He’s such a prick,” he muttered lowly, and Kimi patted him on the shoulder.

“At least you got it back. I know Ollie – he’s stubborn, but he’s a good guy.” Kimi flashed him a smile and steered him inside the flat across from the one Ollie had entered.

You closed the door, withdrawing yourself from your spying site as your mind whirled with what had just unfolded in front of you. It seemed as if you would be seeing Ollie a lot sooner than either one of you expected, as the both of you were practically next-door neighbors. So, what was your next move? You didn’t want to reveal yourself quite yet; that would be awfully embarrassing and awkward to explain. 

You could plan it out, a meet-cute in the hallway. If you had enough time, you could figure out his routine and match up your own so it synced together. But that was unfeasible. Something else would have to be calculated.

Your phone buzzed in your hand; a notification from your best friend, Charlotte.

[CHARLOTTE] Girl, I just saw the cutest guy ever walking down the street by your condominium. Do you know who he is? (Photo attached)

You tapped the image to enlarge it, which was a covert photograph of a boy with curly brown hair and a side-profile that made you do a double take. He was shorter than Ollie, but his muscles were way more defined, and he had the most delicious freckles dotting his skin. Damn. Charlotte was right.

[YOU] I have no idea who he is, but I definitely want to. Whoever that is has been personally blessed by God.

Typing bubbles appeared on your screen a millisecond after the message was delivered. 

[CHARLOTTE] I think the angels wept when he was born. Zooweemama.

The next time you saw Ollie was two days later, and it was by a twist of fate you were extremely grateful for. You were rushing down the stairs, in a hurry to get to the bookstore before the doors opened. The store had been boasting about an enormous sale for weeks now, and you were positively sparking with excitement. It meant you were fantasizing about all the novels you would be buying.

With a loud thunk, you collided into somebody’s back, your neck thrown backwards with the force. “Ow!” you yelped, massaging your nose. 

“Are you OK?” the person you had hit turned around, his eyes widening when he recognized you. Ollie. “Oh my God, Y/N. I’m so sorry!”

You waved him off. “It’s not your fault. I was the idiot flying down the stairs at seven hundred miles an hour.” You plastered a bright smile on your face. “What are you doing here?”

Ollie’s eyes widened. “I, um, live here. Which I’m assuming is the case for you as well? I’m surprised I haven’t seen you sooner.”

“My dad keeps me locked up,” you joked. “But yeah, I live here too. Sixth floor.”

He nodded. “Me too.”

“Cool,” you responded. “Um, I have to go, I have a book sale.”

Ollie grinned. “Can I come along? I mean, if you don’t mind. My friends may or may not have kicked me out again.”

Your jaw dropped. “What?”

“I promise I’m not that bad of a roommate; they just hate me,” he clarified. “I might have accidentally eaten my friend’s leftover food. To be fair, he didn’t mark it, nor did he say he wanted to eat it later.”

You chortled, putting a hand over your mouth to quiet your laughter. “No freaking way.”

“It was really fucking good, though,” Ollie proclaimed as he followed you down the rest of the stairs and out of the apartment complex. “Like, I don’t think I’ve ever eaten pasta that flavorful before.”

You snickered. “I can’t believe you did that. Your friends are saints for not killing you; I know I would’ve.”

Ollie gasped, faking affront. “You would do that to me? Wow, Y/N.”

“Let it be a reminder not to eat my food – or anyone else’s, for that matter.” You put your hands in your pockets, looking down at the cobblestone path below your feet. “Which friend was that?”

“His name is Kimi,” Ollie said, his ears turning the softest shade of pink, the name rolling on his tongue like he had years of practice saying it. “Um, we’ve known each other for ages. But the friend that kicked me out was Franco, our other roommate. He stays out of the arguments for the most part, but he was probably sick of all of Kimi’s swearing.”

“That’s funny.”

Ollie raised an eyebrow. “Oh, no. Trust me, if you heard just how colorful Kimi can be…”

“Like a sailor?” you suggested, and Ollie’s head bobbed rapidly. “I think I need to learn from him.”

“Except it’s all Italian. Cazzo, and merda. All of that.” Ollie lifted his head. “I should know more, but I’m forgetting right now. Wait – I think it’s vaffanculo. That’s the bad one he saves for when he’s really pissed.”

You smirked. “I bet he says that to you often.”

Ollie rolled his eyes, huffing out a laugh. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Y/N. Means a lot.”

“Of course! Any time.” You winked. “OK, but let’s be serious for a second. We have to walk a little bit faster than this tortoise crawl if we want to make it and get dibs on the best books.”

You spent an hour and a half searching through tall bookstacks with Ollie, who kept picking up random novels and asking you if you wanted it. After a few times of this happening, you told him to stop and be quiet or make a pile to show you later. 

He chose neither.

“Ollie –” you broke off, spotting the boy from the street that Charlotte had texted you about. He was leaning over a romance section, admiring the sheen of the covers. “Give me one second.” You curled your fists into a ball, forcing back uncertainty as you made a beeline for him. 

The boy looked at you over his shoulder when you reached him. Ollie was somewhere behind you, obviously confused but not enough to interrupt you. Thank God. “Got any recommendations?” he asked, his tone light and almost confidential.

“Not really. You don’t seem like a romance sort of guy.” With a crooked smirk on your face, you theorized aloud, “Trying to impress someone?”

The boy barked out a laugh, surprised. “No. I do not think I need to impress someone, thank you, and I wouldn’t do it by reading a book.”

“Right, because your looks are charming enough,” you quipped.

“You said it, not me.” The boy stretched a hand out for you to shake. “I’m Franco. And you?”

You angled your gaze back to the books, picking a random one up – a dual pink-and-black novel from an author you’d never heard of. “Y/N.”

“A pretty name for a pretty girl, yeah?” Franco bumped your shoulder gently. “Maybe I should be buying a book, to impress you.”

Someone tapped you on your shoulder, and you turned around. Ollie. Embarrassment roiled in your stomach; while you were flirting with Franco, you had completely forgotten about Ollie, who you had dragged to this event in the first place. “Hey,” you greeted him awkwardly.

But he wasn’t looking at you.

He was glaring at Franco, whose guard had instantly risen. 

“Um…Do you know each other?” Your eyes darted back and forth. Something was wrong, something was wrong, something was –

“Another girl?” Ollie burst out laughing, making the other patrons shoot dirty death glares at the sudden noise. “Damn, Franco, you’re on fire. Like, genuinely. This must be the tenth girl you’ve picked up since moving here. Fuck, I wish I had your charisma.”

You inched away from both of them. “I…had no idea that you two were so well acquainted with one another. Yeah, so, while you catch up, I’m going to –” You stuck a thumb over your shoulder, indicating that you were going to get the hell out of there. “Bye!”

Once you had made your escape, you blinked, attempting to process who you had just encountered. A friend of Ollie’s; a playboy – someone who had slept with ten women. But, a voice of reason piped in, Ollie might have been lying about that. To make you uneasy, to ensure that you wouldn’t talk to him.

Ollie was jealous. There was no other way to frame it, no other perspective you could take to arrive at a different conclusion.

You smiled at the thought.

Ollie knocked on your door late the next day. Your hair was wet from the shower, and you were wearing an old bathrobe with the initials L.V. “Little Verstappen,” your father had elaborated when you had pressed for answers. But you weren’t quite sure if that was the full story. 

“Hi,” he said by way of a greeting. “Are you busy?”

You cocked your head to the side. “How did you find me? And also, did they kick you out again?”

Ollie palmed his forehead. “No, they didn’t. How kind of you to immediately jump to that conclusion.” He sighed. “I’m just bored. Finding you was an adventure. Before you think I’m a crazy stalker or something, I found you by knocking on every door on this floor.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t help your case,” you goaded slyly. “But, to answer your question, I’m free. Kidnap me all you’d like.”

His face broke out in a wide grin. “Wonderful. I’m going to introduce you to my mates.”

“Oh God. Straight into the lion’s den, yeah?” You winced. “Do you think I have a death wish?”

Ollie pulled a face. “Come on. They’re not that bad.” He tapped his foot impatiently. “I’ll wait out here for you to get dressed and ready. Then I’m bringing you to meet my band of circus freaks.”

“Sounds wonderful,” you said, your voice ripe with sarcasm as you shut the door. “Give me a second.”

You hurried into your room, yanking out the first articles of clothing you saw – a dark black band hoodie that you had gotten at a concert last year – and a pair of baggy gray sweats. Not super fancy, but it would work. You dried off your hair with the towel and dropped it on your chair, sliding on a pair of sandals as you flew out the door.

“I’ll be back soon,” you called to your father, who was on the couch reading old auto magazines given to him by the fellow car enthusiast named Fernando, who lived downstairs. He was also known as the grumpy, misophonic man. “My friend wants to hang out.”

He looked up, his mouth screwing in puzzlement. “Be safe. Take your phone.”

You nodded. “I have it in my pocket, but I won’t need to call you. Bye, Pa.”

Ollie was resting his head against the stone wall when you came out. He straightened up when he saw you, examining you from head to toe. “Not a bad getup for a thirty-second rush,” he complimented. “Let’s go.”

“I can’t believe that I’m so willing to head to my demise.”

“Oh, they’ll love you.” Ollie promised. “Maybe a little too much.”

Three hours later, and you wished that Ollie hadn’t been so on-the-nose with his appraisal. His group of friends were sweet and good-natured, but they were loud.

There was Kimi, who was a stereotypical Italian – he actually did the “mamma mia” hand gesture and made jokes about being in the Mafia. And Liam, the boy who had lost his shit over his Cars DVD being stolen, was actually from New Zealand, not Australia like you had thought. Then there was Gabi, who was relatively quiet but was so witty whenever he butted in with a sarcastic rebuke. Franco was flirtatious and devastatingly handsome, but what Ollie had told you was lurking in the forefront in your mind. You tried your hardest to not be lured in too deeply, but there was something about Franco. Like he had an invisible magnet attached to him, threads tugging his targets in closer and closer. You didn’t want to be another trophy on his shelf and have your heart broken, especially after Mateo.

And finally, there was Isack.

How could you even begin to describe him? He was awkward, nerdy (he couldn’t stop yapping about the latest issue of his favorite manga series), and endearing, with a heart of gold. And lest you forget – he was painfully French. All massive turn-ons.

“Everything OK?” Ollie whispered in your ear when the din had died down a bit. “You look…scared.”

“But happy,” you interjected. “They’re really nice. Honestly. Thank you for introducing me to them.”

The corners of Ollie’s eyes crinkled in happiness. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“I think I have to go, though.” You stood up from the couch, causing the boys to stop talking and swivel their attention onto you. “My father’s not going to be happy that I was away for so long. And he doesn’t know who I was with.”

“Is he strict?” Liam queried.

You searched for the most polite way to describe how your father acted. One time, he had hired a detective to track you down when you had gone on a weekend trip with Charlotte and a group of girls from your history class. Another, he had gone through your phone without your knowledge because he had suspected you of sneaking out past curfew – which had been baseless and false. “He cares a lot,” you said simply. “And I don’t want to push it.”

And of course, without fail, your father’s first question when you walked through the door was, “Who were you with?” 

You sighed, dropping your house keys and phone on the counter with a clatter and turning to him with a sense of dread. “Friends.”

Your father’s eyes slitted; he didn’t appreciate the slick way in which you had responded to him. He adored his daughter, spoiled you, but in an ideal world, you would be his soldier. Little Verstappen. “I know that. I want names.”

“Ollie,” you started. “Kimi, Isack, Franco, Liam, and Gabi.”

You waited until your father processed the names. He blinked. “Sounds like an awful lot of boy names, ja?”

“They are. But they’re nice.” You averted your gaze, picking at a loose flap of skin with your fingernail. “We didn’t do anything, Pa.”  

He affixed you with a cool stare that suggested that he did not believe you, even though you were, in fact, telling the truth. “Then why were you gone for over three hours? I was watching the clock, so don’t lie to me. Ik maak me zorgen om je.”

“Ik weet, Pa, but I promise you I’m telling you the truth. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Your father sighed, running a hand through his shaggy blond hair. “You weren’t truthful about Mateo. How am I supposed to trust you? There were six boys there, Y/N. What were you thinking?”

“They’re my friends,” you shot back defensively, resentment flaring as you understood what he was insinuating. “I’m almost nineteen years old, Pa. You can’t keep me in a cage forever.”

He let out another long exhale. “I’m not trying to, schatje, I’m just keeping an eye out for you. Nineteen years old means nothing; you can make a mistake at any age.”

“But I’m more mature than you think I am,” you retorted. “I’m smart, Pa, look at my grades. I’m not stupid.”

“As much as I am proud of your exam scores, academics means nothing when it comes to the real world.” Your father swallowed roughly. “It takes just one small error to mess up your life. And I don’t want that to happen to you.” 

You gripped the corner of the counter with one hand until your knuckles turned white. “Pa, I’m not you. I’m not going to run off with some boy and have a baby at twenty-one.” 

“I hope I raised you well enough that you know not to.” Your father’s lips thinned into a line. “I will never regret having you as my daughter, but everything changed because of one night. I don’t want that happening to you. You have a big, bright, beautiful life in front of you, Y/N.”

You put your hand on your heart. “I swear, I won’t.”

He laughed loudly. “A promise doesn’t mean anything. Hormones overrule all sense of logic.”

“No, Pa. I’m serious. Like, I was with Mateo for half a year. Don’t you think I would have done it if I wanted to?” You pointed out.

His eyebrows flew up. “Mateo was your childhood crush. That’s it – nothing sexual about it. But when you find the right boy for you, everything will feel different, and I’m worried that you will get caught up in it.”

“I appreciate your concern, but I think my prefrontal cortex is developed enough that I won’t.” You kissed your father on the forehead. “Thank you for caring. Anyways, they wouldn’t do that to me.”

He chuckled. “They’re boys, schatje. They’ll leap at the opportunity the minute it becomes available.”

Ollie invited you over to watch a movie (“Not Cars, I can’t stand that movie anymore”) two nights later. With a lot of wheedling and promises to be careful, you convinced your father to let you go. It was a miracle: Max Verstappen was as stubborn as he was fiercely protective.

“So,” you said as you sunk into the plush black-and-white couch in Ollie’s shared flat. “What are we watching?”

Franco scowled. “They promised me we could watch Fast and Furious, but they’re liars.”

“You said you’d already seen it twice!” Gabi protested. 

“Doesn’t matter.” Franco hissed a curse under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “A promise is a promise.”

Kimi wrestled the remote out of Liam’s hand, instead selecting the first movie he saw. “Otherwise, we will argue too much,” he explained to you as he took a seat beside you. He tugged the blanket off of Ollie, who glared daggers at him. “So, this is the only way.”

“Hmpf,” Franco muttered.

The movie turned out to be a devastating romcom about a girl and a boy falling in love over and over, in thousands of parallel universes. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a sole tear drip down Isack’s cheek as the pair was torn apart yet again, but he made no move to dab it away. Once the film had concluded, all seven of you remained frozen, staring at the screen while the credits rolled. “I think I need a shot,” Liam speculated. “Or a nice punch to my jaw, because why am I about to cry over a movie?”

“Nah, mate, I’ve already lost the battle,” Kimi said wetly, and everyone burst out laughing. The poor boy’s face was absolutely drenched in tears, his eyes puffy and red, nose clogged. “That was so sad. I’m never watching that again.”

You bent over double, nearly hyperventilating with the force of your glee. “Oh my God, you’re hilarious. It’s as if you’ve never experienced emotion before in your life.” Your face cracked open with a large smile. “I’m definitely going to research the saddest movies ever just so I can watch you weep like babies.”

“Mulher má,” Gabi croaked as tears continued to rivulet down his face, pooling on his shirt collar. “Why would you do that to us? Haven’t we suffered enough?”

You puckered your lips in a remorseful frown, suppressing the laughter that was threatening to bubble up again. “As penance, I’ll bake my famous butterscotch and caramel cookies. Sound good?” you questioned. “You obviously don’t have the supplies – I doubt you have more than a jug of milk in your refrigerator right now – so I’ll make it on my own and bring it over as soon as I can.”

“That sounds delicious,” Isack gushed, and Kimi dipped his head in agreement. “I’ll be more than happy to accept that.”

“Me too,” Ollie added. “Don’t forget some for me.”

“I’ll bake for all of you. Two dozen should be enough; there’s six of you, so four cookies each.” You calculated aloud, watching as their eyes grew wide with greed. Franco even licked his lips. “But if you want me to make it, I should probably go home. I’ll see you around. Thank you for letting me come over.”

“Thank you for coming,” Isack said as the boys paraded you to the door. “That movie was terribly sad, but I’m glad I watched it. Bonne nuit.”

“Goodnight,” you said to all of them, and they waved farewell.

Your father was already asleep in his bedroom, the door shut, when you arrived home. You didn’t mind; in fact, it meant he wouldn’t be bombarding you with questions, and you would be more prepared for the onslaught. 

You opened your phone to see seven new notifications from Charlotte, and you flopped down on your bed, getting comfortable.

[CHARLOTTE] I just saw Mister Angelic again. And guess who I saw next to him?

[CHARLOTTE] You.

[CHARLOTTE] I feel like there was a major bombshell and you didn’t tell me about it! 

[CHARLOTTE] Like, what?! Tell me everything. I’m DYING to know how this happened.

[CHARLOTTE] Is he as hot as we originally thought?

[CHARLOTTE] Or is he as dumb as he is sexy?

[CHARLOTTE] Let me know, queen. Sorry for the spam. XOXO

Franco was sexy, and funny, and flirtatious. He knew just how to make you laugh, called you sweet pet names like cariña and mi rey. But it was too soon to jump head-first into a new relationship, especially after the blindside that Mateo had dealt you. And besides, Franco wasn’t the only eligible bachelor of his group.

Ollie was a viable target; he was gentle and thoughtful. And Kimi, too – but he seemed more focused on Ollie than on you. Liam was fine (a little hot-headed, but nonetheless), and so was Gabi. 

And Isack? Isack was a different story. He wasn’t intrusive; he let you sit in silence rather than force you to talk. Yet, when he did, it was like the whole world held its breath, to hear whatever anecdote Isack wanted to tell you about.

You flicked off your phone, suddenly drained of all energy and too lethargic to respond to Charlotte’s texts. Like your father’s interrogation, it could wait until the morning.

A week later, you were visiting the downtown art history museum for your final project. Regardless of how pleasant the company might have been, you had decided to go alone, not wanting any distractions. You lifted the Polaroid camera again, taking a few snaps of a Renaissance-era bust of an angel, its wings folded over the slender curve of its back. Turning to face the next statue, you caught motion in your peripheral vision – a blur of a denim jacket, a flash of honey-blond hair.

Mateo.

Your heart began to palpitate at a rate you could not believe was possible. He was standing beside a painting of Venus, his back turned to you. Yes, it was him; you recognized the shabby khaki shorts he loved to wear (you had countless debates with him over them – not arguments, in your eyes, but a friendly discussion of the necessity of buying new clothes, toxic consumerism or not). The tousle of hair that he refused to comb, sticking up in the back like a duck’s tail. 

He moved away from the painting, stopping at the next masterpiece a few meters away. You shouldered your knapsack, wondering if it was better to face him, or bolt. Either one would be embarrassing, but why let him wield that power over you? He was the fool who had ended the relationship.

You had just mustered enough bravery to talk to him when you saw who was next to him, leaning in close to crack comments about the art piece. Her name was unknown, but you knew she was familiar, a girl in your literature class? Or was it history?

You froze in your place, watching as he pressed a feather-light kiss to her cheek. So this must be the reason why he had broken up with you. A new girl, a shiny new toy to play with. Hmm. 

Surprisingly, something like sorrow settled in your gut.

Not for you – you didn’t care about Mateo any more than you cared about your shoelaces – but for her. This mystery girl, who had floated into his orbit, enthralled by his easy smile and pseudo-intelligence. How long would it take for him to discard her, like he had done with you? 

It didn’t matter; Mateo was irrelevant now. He had left a mere fingerprint on your life; indelible yet insignificant.

Incredibly – and to your delight – the next invitation to hang out from the boys came soon after your encounter with Mateo at the museum. Not from Ollie, or even Franco; but Isack, the mild-mannered French boy who had handed you a tin of madeleine cookies the moment you had walked inside his apartment. It seemed as if he was eager to get to know you, something you didn’t mind in the slightest.

“We should play truth or dare,” Gabi advocated once everyone had gotten settled. Kimi was draped over the couch, Ollie resting his head on Kimi’s lap. Franco was splayed out on the carpet, Liam scooting away from his precariously close feet, face screwed up in disgust. And Isack was sitting next to you, legs crossed like a pretzel. “To make things more interesting, because vocês todos são chatos.”

“Fine.” Liam caved first, sighing in mock displeasure. “I’ll do it.”

Gabi’s fist punched the air in victory. “Sim! Truth or dare, Liam?”

“Dare.” Liam didn’t hesitate, surrendering himself to whatever punishment Gabi would deliver.

“I dare you to let us put your hair in pigtails.” Gabi sneered wickedly. “You’ve grown it out so long that you look like a little girl.”

Liam touched the pale spikes on his head self-consciously. “No, it doesn’t.”

Everyone lowered their eyes.

“Come on,” Franco whined. “I want to play.”

Liam scowled, but let Gabi approach him with hair ties. “I hate you all.” A few moments later, after some major twisting and pulling on Liam’s hair, the pigtails were completed, in all their short, stubby glory. Ollie snapped a few photos on his cell phone, and Kimi turned beet red in his effort not to laugh.

“Wonderful,” you chortled.

Two more rounds passed, in which Franco did a surprisingly flexible backbend (almost taking out Isack’s eye) and Ollie sang the alphabet backward in a horrible Transylvanian accent. And then it was your turn.

“Truth or dare?” Ollie prodded.

You fidgeted with your hands, not wanting to seem immature for choosing ‘truth’, but too scared to risk selecting ‘dare’, though everyone else had done so. Ollie raised an eyebrow, still waiting for your answer… “Dare.”

“I dare you to…” He paused for dramatic effect, and your stomach sank. “Kiss the person that you think is the most attractive.”

Sweat instantly beaded on your forehead, heat flushing your cheeks. “Um, can I forfeit?” you tittered nervously. “I don’t think I can choose.”

Franco rolled his eyes. “No es tan difícil. Choose.”

“You probably think that because you believe you’re the hottest one in this room!” Ollie retorted – a quite accurate assumption, given the roguish expression on Franco’s face. “Give her a second.”

You scanned the room, contemplating the six (very eager) options before you. 

Ollie. Kimi. Franco. Gabi. Liam. Isack. 

Who were you going to choose? You had no idea, and you felt slightly dizzy as you quickly deliberated what was the best path to take. Franco was the most likely to cop a feel under your shirt, to take advantage of the situation, and you weren’t ready for that. Ollie would be the most chaste, but you didn’t want a friendly peck. That’s not what the others desired.

You rose from where you were sitting on the floor, crawling over to your victim, whose big eyes got even rounder when he realized what you were about to do.

“Come here,” you purred, sultrier than you expected.

Isack, dumbstruck and at a loss for words, blinked. You clasped his collar, bringing him close to you, lips crashing against each other like the ocean meeting the shore. It felt like a new beginning. 

Like the start of something that could bring your heart back to life.

Taglist: @astriddsaysstuff @rayaskoalaland @ifsoniacouldfly @lunaruss

[fairylatte7]

mocktails - Joaquín Torres

a hot, summer day, a cold drink, and joaquín torres; what more can you ask for? 🍹☀️

joaquín torres x fem!reader.

warnings: mocktails (so a traditionally alcoholic drink, with no alcohol), fem!reader, she/her pronouns

Hey everyone! I'm back from my trip to Louisiana. The food was great and the people are even better. I miss it already. I have time to write now that I'm not on vs code 24/7, so I'm back to work yeppie! I'm obsessed with this no exit clip of Danny like omg his smile😵‍💫

also ironheart was phenomenal! I see Parker fics in the near future maybe... 🤭 anyways, enjoy!

You leaned back in your chair as your boyfriend stretched his arms above his head. Despite the blazing Washington D.C. summer heat, it wasn’t the sun getting you all hot and bothered. No matter how many months you two had been together, you were always taken aback by how hot Joaquin was, and confused as to how he was so head-over-heels for you.

 You watched as Joaquin pulled his shirt over his head, back muscles flexing and glistening in the sunlight. The sun gave his caramel skin even more of a golden essence. 

Your eyes traced the scars on his back as he leaned on the banister of the apartment balcony. Mesmerized, you didn’t even realize that he was talking to you until he turned around. 

“You good?” Joaquín smiled mischievously. “Looks like I got you in a trance, huh?” 

“Don’t get too full of yourself.” you joked and rolled your eyes. 

“Too late. I already am. I pulled you.” 

Joaquín held his hand out for you to take. As he helped you out of the lounge chair he snaked his arm around your waist and pulled you close. 

He looked down at you, his brown eyes had a metallic quality to them due to the sun. The color was even more prominent thanks to the dark eyelashes that framed his eyes. They were warm and full of love. 

God, he was gorgeous. 

Joaquín leaned down so that his head was closer to your ear. 

“I was asking if you wanted to make mocktails.” You could feel how his lips were practically grazing your ear. 

“I’d love to.” You responded, with a slight giggle to follow. You couldn’t help it. 

As the two of you went inside, you headed for the kitchen. Your boyfriend’s arm didn’t leave your waist until he had to let you go to get ingredients from the fridge. 

Once the materials had been collected and placed on the kitchen island, Joaquín leaned on the opposite side of the counter to face you. 

He smiled brightly at you. “Okay. Use whatever’s here to make whatever you want. I’ll do the same and we can taste-test at the end. Cool?” 

You agreed and got to work.

Joaquín loved going to local farmers’ markets when he was in town. He couldn’t go nearly as much as he wanted due to his constant traveling. But that made him appreciate the practice even more. 

He had gotten up bright and early that morning to go. You were barely awake when he was on his way out of the door. When you had sat up in bed to speak, he just planted a kiss on your lips and said “Farmers’ market, mi amor.” 

Now the fruits of his morning labor sat in front of you in the form of a cherry, lime, and cucumber mocktail. 

Joaquín’s drink looked great. You could see how focused he got when he made food and you loved it. It was cute watching him slave away, sweating and wiping his brow over a fruity drink like he was on a cooking competition show. 

He topped the drink off with a mint leaf and stood back to admire his creation. 

“Are you done Gordan Ramsey?” you asked.

“Aw, babe. You know good things take time.” he responded with his puppy dog eyes. “But I get it. I’m thirsty.” 

“Shall we try them at the same time?” you suggest. 

Joaquín nods his head. The two of you count to three and try your drinks simultaneously. 

His eyebrows raise and you ask him what he thinks of his final product. 

“It’s good. The flavors layer well. I might have added too much tajin though.” 

“I don’t think you can ever have too much tajin” you respond wholeheartedly. 

“You know what? I agree.” He smiles, showing off those sharp canines that made his smile so unique. “Yours?” 

“I like it. It’s not super flavorful, but it’s refreshing.” you say. “Wanna try it?” 

Joaquín nods his head yes, but as you hand the glass to him he pushes it away. 

You look at him, confused of course, as he walks to your side of the kitchen island. 

“I have a better idea.” he says, with that tone he uses every time he’s about to blow your mind. 

He had a prankish look in his eye as he grabbed your hand and brought it up to your mouth. 

Mapping his hand over yours, he skimmed your fingers over your lips. 

It was what he did next that had you at a loss for words. 

He brought your fingers to his mouth and sucked on them, one by one, not breaking eye contact even once. 

This was definitely going in the Hall of Fame for “Hottest Things a Man Has Even Done” 

Once he was done, Joaquín casually said. “You’re right. It’s refreshing. I can really taste the mint.” 

All you could do was blink a few times and say “You are too much Joaquín Torres.” 

He smirked “Yeah? That’s why you love me.” 

“That is true” 

You step to him and take his hand in yours, rubbing your thumb over his palm. As you bring his hand to his mouth it’s obvious he’s trying not to smile. 

“I hope you didn’t think you were the only one who got to have any fun here.” you teased, rubbing his fingers over those soft lips you’ve kissed a hundred times before. 

He reacted with a raising of his eyebrows as you brought his fingers to your lips. You went agonizingly slow as you tasted the drink residue from each finger. You watched as Joaquín’s face contorted, he was enamored with you. His eyes never left your face. 

When you finally finished, you dropped his hand, turned away, and proceeded to clean up the mess the two of you had made. 

Joaquín just leaned against the counter like a crash-test- dummy.

You really had him down bad. 

“No thoughts on the drink?” he quickly breathed out. 

You paused. “I liked it. Maybe too much tajin though.” A smile began to form on your face. 

Joaquín came up behind you and bent down to shower your shoulder and upper back with kisses. 

“What am I gonna do with you, Joaquín?” you ask, like the girl in love that you were. 

“Keep doing what you’re doing, babe.” he says in your ear “and I will follow.” 

I hope ya'll enjoyed! Is it bad if I say this was inspired by Love Island? Well too late ig lol.

Gif and photo are from pinterest. divider credits to @haonian !

I've had this nostalgic song on repeat for some days now and I thought it fit the feel of this fic:

muah! 😚

[kefiteria]

I had a brainstorm and idk if you do au type requests but

Hear me out. Sebek x reader royal au with him as reader's guard. But- but reader falls first, absolutely smitten by him and breaking all unspoken rules of being a monarch

Salt on the Wind, Silence in My Chest

pairing: royal guard! Sebek x monarch! Reader

tags: yearning like rent is due, brief, but it will haunt you in the shower, this fic is 90% restraint, 10% breakdown, the emotional equivalent of watching lovers on a beach while you drown in royal protocol, like White Nights but Sebek's the oath and you're the moon.

a/u🍨: thank you so much for the idea!! im using this to practice my english😭 i wrote this today after trying to clear my mind with a walk by the beach and it backfired💀i saw kids building sandcastles and flying the kite like joy was their birthright. couples laughing like love wasn’t terrifying. strangers sunbathing like they’ve never been haunted. it was all so soft and easy. all i could think was: happiness really does linger in places i don’t belong~✨ your idea reminded me so strongly of White Nights by Dostoevsky—that kind of delicate, quiet ache that sits between love and impossibility. so this happened. TADAAA!!✨ this is a very short read!

Ah—my dear, forgive me, for I know not how to begin without trembling. Even now, as I set a pen to memory, I cannot name what I felt that evening without shame curling like smoke in my chest.

The sun was folding itself into the sea, and I—I stood above it all, watching through the white railings of the eastern balcony. Far below, laughter danced like bright ribbons over the sand; they moved like waves themselves, those people, too young or too free to care for titles and timetables. A boy gave a girl a handful of frothing sea foam, and she kissed him on the cheek as if it were nothing. As if love were as ordinary as breath.

How strange, that I should ache so vividly, so foolishly, for something as simple as that.

Sebek stood behind me, of course. He always did. My shadow, they called him in jest—though never within earshot of him. His posture was always precise, as if sculpted from cold marble, the sword at his hip no heavier than his honor.

I knew better.

Sometimes I imagined I could feel the burden of his devotion pressing down on him, the way I felt the weight of this crown I never asked to wear.

Sometimes I longed to turn to him and ask, “Do you not tire of standing so far away when I am right here?”

But instead, I said, quite quietly, “I envy them.”

Though behind me, a pause.

“My liege?” His voice held that sharp, unwavering cadence. He addressed me as he always had—never as I wanted.

“I envy how freely they love,” I said with a frown while watching the sun melt into the horizon. “Without rule. Without ruin. They have no one to answer to but each other.”

The silence that followed was thick as dusk. I half-hoped he hadn’t heard me. Or perhaps that he had. I did not know which would have hurt less.

“It is not a luxury we possess.” he said at last.

Oh, how noble he looked in that fading light! The fire of the sky caught in his eyes, though they refused to meet mine. His hands were folded behind his back, knuckles pale.

I turned to him—not fully, just enough that I could see the shape of him in the corner of my gaze. The sky behind us was burning itself into embers, and I thought, foolishly, how he looked carved from what the heavens left behind.

Knowing that speaking any louder would unravel me—I asked, “Tell me… if my name held no weight, if I were only someone passing through your life— would your eyes linger a little longer?”

He gave me a flinch. It was small—barely the shift of a breath, a flicker of tension in his jaw—but I saw it. Yet, my heart, poor fool, dared to hope.

His voice came slowly, low and rough, like something torn from a place meant to stay locked

“Do not ask me that,” he uttered, almost a whisper. “Not when you already know the answer would unmake me, my liege.”

“But why?” I asked again—quieter now, though no less certain. There was an intent beneath it this time, something I dared not name aloud. “Would that be enough to tempt you?”

He said nothing, and that nothing swallowed me whole.

I turned away again, ashamed of my cruelty, my hope. How dare I reach for him? For he was not a man. He was a vow. A citadel. A prayer made flesh.

Sebek—like dusk giving way to a star—he broke the silence. It was the kind of sentence that lives in me still— curled quiet beneath my ribs like a secret sun, a candle I dare not touch, flickering every time I remember what it was to almost be loved.

“I have spent every day rewriting my oaths,” he said—his voice, heavens, his voice—unsteady and low, as though he had torn it from a place inside him that had never seen light.

“One by one… just to find a way to love you without calling it treason.”

From the Hand of the Sovereign, penned beneath candlelight:

I have governed provinces and punished traitors, yet my greatest rebellion is to love you in silence.

Let the stars witness what no court shall ever hear:

My heart belongs to the man who never asked for it, yet never looked away.

[loverstrings]

Tailored Trouble- Established Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Congressman Barnes is getting a new suit. But our pretty lady is looking a little tooo pretty.

a.n - writing buck like the 1940s flirt i know, also i've been thinking about giving spindle a nickname that isn't her old hydra callsign LMAO. i might go with sugar, one because i've kept up with the bear and i miss them and two because its cute and she seems like a sugar.

| can be read as a standalone or apart of project spindle |

——

The shop is quiet, save for the occasional swish of fabric and the muted click of heels across hardwood. It's the kind of place with velvet lined walls and champagne on arrival, the kind of boutique that only opens by appointment—and today, it’s open just for him.

Bucky runs a hand over the lapel of a navy jacket, the fabric smooth under his fingers. It’s tailored already, though the tailor still insists on taking every measurement again. (“Your shoulders look broader, Mr. Barnes.”)

Y/N is somewhere on the other side of the wall, in the matching dress shop—also closed for the day. He’d caught a glimpse of her when they walked in, already grinning like she had secrets.

And now, she’s silent.

Which is always dangerous.

“Try this one,” the tailor says, slipping another jacket onto his frame. Bucky moves through the motions, flexes slightly in the mirror. It fits perfectly.

All of it fits perfectly. It should’ve made him feel awkward—especially after years of uniforms and tactical gear but instead it feels a little indulgent. Almost… fun.

Then the door creaks.

He sees her in the mirror before he turns.

Y/N, in a soft red number that curves just right at the waist and falls in waves at her knees. Her hair’s pinned up, a little messy, like she’s been trying things on and laughing through it. She leans on the doorframe like she owns it.

“Shit,” Bucky mutters under his breath.

She tilts her head. “Good ‘shit’ or bad ‘shit’?”

He turns fully now, jaw slack. “You trying to kill me?”

She laughs. “This one’s not even the final pick.”

“Don’t care,” he says, stepping closer. “That one better come home.”

The tailor clears his throat loudly. “Mr. Barnes—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky mutters. “Back in a second.”

He meets her just outside the fitting room, his hands already sliding to her waist before she can speak. Her grin slips a little when he kisses her cheek, then her jaw, then just beneath her ear.

“You look unfair,” he whispers.

“You’ve said that before.”

“I meant it every time.”

She rests her hands on his chest, fingers smoothing over the buttons of his dress shirt. “You’re not so bad yourself, Sergeant Barnes. Didn’t know I had a thing for men in custom suits, but here we are.”

His hands tighten. “You keep talking like that and I’m gonna get kicked out of this place.”

“You’re the only customer.”

“Exactly.”

She giggles when he noses against her neck, and he smiles into her skin, inhaling the faint trace of her perfume.

“You’re trouble,” he says.

“You love it.”

“I really do.”

A beat. A sharp inhale as his fingers slide a little lower, tracing the curve of her back where the zipper of the dress sits. He presses one more kiss behind her ear.

And then she gently pushes him back, palms flat on his chest.

“We’re in public,” she teases.

He groans. “It’s barely public.”

“There’s still people here.”

“There’s a curtain.”

Y/N snorts. “And a very stressed tailor two feet away.”

“He didn’t see anything.”

“Yet.”

He smirks. “You gonna come back later wearing that?”

She hums, stepping away with a slow sway of her hips. “Depends. You gonna pick a suit that makes me want to take it off?”

“Sugar, I could wear a paper bag and you’d still want to take it off.”

She turns, walking backward toward her side of the shop. “Not if you keep talking like a menace.”

And with a flick of her fingers—just a casual twist of the wrist—fwip, the curtain behind her snaps closed, glowing faint pink for a blink before settling.

Bucky blinks. “Show off.”

“Flatterer,” she calls from the other side.

He stands there for a second longer, dazed, smiling like a man who’s already lost the game and couldn’t care less.

The tailor pokes his head out from behind a mirror panel. “Mr. Barnes?”

Bucky adjusts the collar of his jacket, still grinning faintly. “Yeah. I’ll take this one.”

——

[taylormarieee]

~Back to friends~

A matt murdock drabble

summary: you and matt had a rough breakup in college, but you never stopped loving each other. can you guys go back to being friends?

word count: 1.8k

pairings: matt murdock x ex!girlfriend!reader

warnings: slight angst, flashbacks, matt being a sweetheart and heartbroken all at once, reader being heartbroken, kisses if you squint, fluff, brief mention of death, that should be it!

a/n: hey guys i know he's not in my masterlist but i saw an edit with this song and the idea just popped up in my head so i had to write it! hope you guys like it, plus my fixation on charlie cox is growing back after ddba. lowercase intended.

The years of college are kind of a blur for you. memories with matt and foggy settling in. they were your happy place and now you barely see them at all.

things got pretty bad after you broke up with matt. you went to therapy, you were diagnosed with depression, you lost your grandma and she was your rock, the glue that kept you together.

it was as if breaking up with matt brought bad luck into your life. matt was the joy and the light at the end of your tunnel that you just knew would be there.

matt gave you hope even when he barely had any for himself. but after being with him for three years and he kept such a secret from you... such a dark secret. you couldn't forgive it in that moment.

the guilt and the distrust you felt that night watching the devil of hells kitchen -- matt-- waltz into your shared apartment and stand in front of you? the feeling of knowing that he felt as though he couldn't trust you enough to keep this secret.

you wondered if he had told foggy or even karen. you cried that night. some words were said that night, ones that were unforgivable.

you regret ever getting up out of bed that night. you regret ever yelling at him that night. you regret it all. because the look of hurt on your face could never match matt's.

you hated yourself for leaving the way you did. with just a note. deep down you still love matt with every fucking bone in your body. you miss him so much it hurts like hell.

three weeks after finding out matt was daredevil. he called you and left you messages. he wanted to talk so you went and talked to him. you wanted him to know that you still loved him and that you didn't hate him.

flashback. Three weeks after the break up...

"hey matty." you walk up, hands in your coat pocket as you stand in front of his sitting figure.

he smiles, reminiscing in the times you used to call him that with a different tone, a tone of love and admiration. now it's just casual.

"hey, would you like to sit down?" he asks as he fold his stick and rests it on his lap.

you smile and sit down next to him, you can feel the heat radiating off matt. you wonder if he can feel how nervous you are.

"h-how have you been these days?" you ask trying to start small and light conversation.

he takes of his glasses to reveal red eyes and eye bags. you gasp. "well i've had better days that's for sure." he chuckles before putting his head down and glasses back on.

as if by instinct you grab his face and turn it towards yours. "matt... are you okay? when's the last time you've slept, or eaten?" you ask concerned as your fingers brush his cheeck in a soothing motion.

he closes his eyes relishing in the action and leans his head into your hand.

he was so scared to take a breath, he didn't want you to move your hand. he didn't want you to leave him in the vulnerable moment.

he finally speaks, "i've eaten. sleep is what hasn't been good. can't sleep without you." he mumbles.

you fight back the tears of seeing matt like this... your matt.

"matty, what did you want to talk about?"

he sighs as he fixes himself. "can we start over? please? i need you in my life." he expresses.

"matty... how could we possibly go back to being friends? three weeks ago we were sharing a bed together and now? i don't even recognize you."

"how can you say that? how can you look at me and pretend i'm someone you've never met?! It's like one minute your laying on my chest in my arms and now your gone."

"would you like me to bring back up the fact that your the devil of hells kitchen?!" you confront in a whispered yell.

"that night matt... the devil was in your eyes, and trust me the devil himself can't deny the lies you've sold. the lie's you've sold to me and foggy and fuck matt, even karen." you express, your voice cracking before leaning away from matt.

"i'm sorry and you know that. i can't express it enough. I love you. your the one that keeps me going, your the reason i was able to graduate and without you i'm nothing. i'm nothing! foggy has karen and then there's me! who do I have!?"

"you still have me matt..."

"not the way i used too."

his words break you. you missed him so much. and it's clear he missed you. he just wants your forgivness.

"i forgive you matt. I forgive you forever. I miss you and just know, im not mad anymore. I love you and i always will matt. did you keep a secret from me? yes you did, for three years but without you i'm nothing. without you i have no joy in my life. so matt, you do have someone... you have me. and you always will. thats a promise."

And that was it. That was two months ago. now you and matt were stronger than ever. you guys were such good friends. you quit working at your last law firm to start working with matt, foggy, and karen again.

god, the look on their faces when you came back was precious. you wish you could snap moments like that in a polaroid and keep them forever.

"so, you and matt are friends again?" foggy asks.

"yea, yea we are. and it's never been better." you respond with a smile.

"gosh it reminds me of old times." foggy sighs out with the wildest grin on his face. "minus the moaning and late nights being kept out of my dorm." he adds with a chuckle.

you gasp and karen bursts out laughing as you push foggy out his chair.

"oh shut up foggy." you laugh out shaking your head. you hear a faint chuckle in the other room and you know it's matt.

separated from the group to work on cases on their break vs hanging out and letting himself be free.

you get up and walk into his office while the faint voices of karen and foggy continue into a different conversation.

you knock on the open door and peek your head in. "matty?" you speak out before being met with a 'come in'.

"i heard you laughing. how come you aren't sitting with us?" you ask.

he smiles before opening his mouth to speak before you quickly cut him off as if already knowing what he's gonna say.

"and don't give me the bullshit matt about how you need to work on cases, they can wait." you say with a smirk on your face.

a smirk that matt knows is there. "fine, you caught me. I was just thinking about stuff. foggy's comment brought back old memories." he says with a chuckle.

"good memories. memories of us at our happiest, i know." you say with a smile as you step closer to matt who's now standing. he reaches for your hand and you give it.

he looks down and smiles.

"what? what iis it? why are you so smiley Mr. Murdock?" you asks with a chuckle.

"nothing, it's just... i'm glad I get to be with you everyday again. like old times. you've made in here brighter, I can feel it." he says.

you smile and caress his face with your cheek. he slowly puts his hands around your waist as if to make sure that this move is okay and when you wrap your arms around his neck, he's all giddy like a puppy.

he smiles and he can't control it, your heart skips a beat at his smile and you tilt your head. "what matty?" you ask a smile now adorning your face.

"nothing it just- it feels like old times." he says rocking you from side to side slowly and gently.

you hum and lay your head on his shoulder. "yea, just like old times." you both stand there for a while just rocking back and forth with each other while enjoying the presence of one another.

you are the first one to speak to break the silence. "i should probably get back to karen and foggy." he lifts his eyebrows as if almost forgetting they were here. almost forgetting.

"oh uh, yea sure. I gotta get back to this thing anyway so..." he trails off.

he may think you don't know, but you do. you can tell. matt didn't want to let you go. he didn't want to have you leave him again.

and frankly, you didn't want to leave his side either. but you wanted to go finish enjoying your lunch break before a new client came in.

"matty... i know what your thinking so stop thinking it. join us. join me."

he sighs and looks towards your direction now. he opens his mouth as if to speak but then hesitates for a moment. he looks back down as if thinking of doing something but not quite doing it yet.

he then walks up to you, grabs your face and kisses you. you halt for s moment before melting into him, into his warmth. god how you've always loved how warm matt was.

you kiss him back with intensity. not lust, but longing. the passion of missing him seeping into your kiss as tears drop down your face wetting matt's cheeks.

you kiss him like you miss him, because you have missed matt. you finally break the kiss to catch a breath and revel in the afterbliss.

you hear faint gasps from behind you and you turn around to see foggy and karen watching but just as quick as you saw them, they have quickly scurried off back to their seats.

you chuckle and put your head down. "i'll uhm, get going now. don't wanna distract you from your work. you can have my left overs matt, i'll go buy some more food for you and me." you speak out as you back out of his door.

you accidentally ram your back into the wall instead earning a chuckle from matt.

"did you just-"

"nope, i'll be on my way now! bye!" you interrupt as you quickly speed walk out of the office but not before reading foggy's lip say 'you will be talking later.'

you roll your eyes and close the door behind you. you stand there for a second, smile, and leave walking to your car.

you were glad you and matt were back to being friends.

Taglist:@dollyfl1rt@itzdarling@sammyluvr@liliesdiary@ribbonprincess@bellahadidnt16 @iilovefictionalpeople @aerangi@keiva1000 @madafton @niktwazny303 @prettyluhdavis @kqmbr1a @nuemanfilms + anyone else who wants to join

a/n: yes this fic is based off a sombr song called "back to friends."

[anakinsluvrgirl]

✧ sam monroe x f!reader

summary: you and sam have always been close, maybe too close. now its just late night, quiet kisses, and feelings that neither of you are ready to name.

warnings: none ! simply making out.

a/n: ok this is the first minimally good thing ive written in MONTHS so im kinda proud of it ngl 😣 its pretty simple but i hope you like it as much as i do <3

divider creds: @roseraris

Sam Monroe had many hobbies. None of them particularly healthy. Smoking, dealing, blasting music loud enough to piss off the neighbours — And of course, making out with his best friend like it wasn’t a total disaster waiting to happen. Things to fill the silence.

Risky? Sure. But that wasn’t the right word for it. Sloppy felt more accurate, like something unplanned, impulsive, the kind of thing that started without meaning to and never really stopped. You couldn’t remember the first time it happened. The first kiss, the first time you ended up tangled in his sheets, breathless and laughing like idiots, but it blurred together after that. Like muscle memory.

You didn’t talk about it. You didn’t need to. And honestly? You weren’t really complaining. It wasn’t love, at least not in the clean, safe way people always talked about it. Something kept pulling you back into his orbit, night after night, until it stopped feeling strange and just started feeling like the only thing that made sense. Neither of you asked what it meant. Neither of you cared enough to stop. Or maybe you cared too much to say it out loud.

Though you refused to admit it. Dating? No, you two weren’t dating. Best friends? Definitely. You always said that you two were just really close. But deep down you both knew that it wasn’t entirely true. However, can you really call it a real friendship if you don’t occasionally make out or fool around a bit?

You and Sam had been orbiting each other for as long as you could remember. He’d always just been there. This permanent fixture in your life, like a scar or a favorite song you never got sick of. From scraped knees and schoolyard fights to late-night drives and cigarette ash on hoodie sleeves, he was a constant. Reliable in his own unpredictable way.

You know each other better than anyone else ever could, down to the exact same look he’d give when something was bothering him but he didn’t want to talk about it, or the way his voice dropped when he was trying not to like he cared. He never had to say too much, and you never had to ask. Inseparable didn’t even begin to cover it. You were entangled. Years of shared secrets, close calls, and unfinished sentences had made sure of that.

Deep down, you knew you weren’t supposed to be here again, but you just couldn’t resist the urge to see him. It was a random Tuesday, barely past midnight, and his window was still half open, like he expected you to crawl through it.

Sam didn’t say anything when you stepped inside. He just blinked at you through the smoke curling off the cigarette between his fingers. He was sitting on his bed, hoodie falling off one shoulder, eyeliner faded into tiredness shadows. His room was a mess, still smelled like paint thinner and cheap cologne.

“You forgot how to knock or something?” He muttered, his voice low and scratchy.

You didn’t say anything, you simply sat beside him, your knees touching. He passed you the cigarette wordlessly. You didn’t really smoke, but you took a drag anyway. Something about the way his lips had just been on it made you feel high enough.

“Rough night?” He raised an eyebrow as he observed you. You stayed silent for a few more moments, before finally speaking up, “Aren’t they all?” You mumbled, turning your gaze towards him, the cigarette between your fingers.

Sam leaned in before you could say anything else, pressing his mouth to yours like it was the only thing that made sense. The cigarette in your hands was immediately forgotten. His hands moved to your waist, pulling your body closer. The way his hands slid up your hoodie, the way you tilted your head just so, the familiar scrape of his lip ring against your mouth. It wasn’t rushed, but it wasn’t gentle either. You kissed like you were trying to prove something, like maybe if you stayed close enough, long enough, it’d start to feel real.

Sam pulled back just enough to speak, his voice nothing more than a murmur against your lips, “You’re gonna get tired of this someday,” he spoke. “And you’re gonna pretend like you won’t care,” you shot back.

He didn’t argue. Just kisses you again, deeper this time, like he was trying to drown the silence between the words neither of you would ever say.

His fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. Your hoodie was already half off, and so was his. The room was cold, but his hands were warm, calloused, familiar. He tugged you closer, until you were practically on his lap, your thighs straddling his and your breath catching somewhere between your chest and your throat.

You almost said something, something stupid like “don’t go falling in love with me” but the words died before they made it out.

Because deep down, you weren’t sure which of you would be more likely to mean it.

[kalosinflames]

As he watches her eyes roam the blanket again, Adam wonders what exactly is going through her head. He can tell some sort of shift of some sorts has happened - a positive one by all accounts, though it is too soon to say that for sure. Still, he isn't going to look a gift Ponyta in the mouth.

Her next comment makes him blink and while ordinarily he might suggest that speaks to the company she keeps he is not about to drop a bomb on the conversation, however well-meaning he is with it. Instead he offers a small smile.

"You need not say anything. It seems like common sense, given you would be a guest in my home." He rolls his shoulders in something of a half-shrug. He was being genuine with that at least; it really did just seem like common sense. It was not as though she was lacking in friends, surely?

Or perhaps she was. It must be somewhat lonely in her position. How many people wanted to know her for who she was and not what she was (probably so very willing) to offer them?

He almost drifts into his own world of thoughts before her last question catches him like a brick to the ribs. For a second he looks like a deerling in the headlights before he clears his throat and glances off towards the sun, now barely peaking out across the horizon. He's quiet, visibly thinking.

"Because I wish to get to know you better." He replies honestly. "Do not mistake me; none of this is an act even to that end. But the very fact you were willing to offer me the time of day after all I have said is not something I am particularly used to."

He pauses, realising that might make him sound desperate and like this was simply to get her to listen to him. He scowls quietly to himself and exhales through his nose.

"There is-- something about you, Serena, that I find myself enjoying when you are in my company. It would be too easy to put it down to your kindness, though that is certainly present. It is not your physical beauty - I am many things, but not shallow. Though again, I am not saying you are not beautiful. You are-- intelligent and generous, filled with artistic passion and a love of life that I so rarely see in anyone here."

If Adam was acting right now, he was the best she'd ever met in her life. No; this was very raw and him trying his best to articulate himself. He huffs.

"I must sound insane. Or, heavens forbid, like I am trying to be forward. I promise you it is neither. It is simply difficult to put into words."

     His quip is met with silence, and yet not without an answer—the gentle lowering of her gaze, the ghost of a crease upon a brow that vanishes as quick as it had appeared. And then, a nod. She relents, or perhaps at the very least wishes to say that the woman will think on it further, consider his words in the time between now and then. It would, on some level, keep him busy. Out of trouble. Away from the easily swayed and away from resources not his own. Yet he gives her little more than a handful of moments before his suggestions grow, and in one swift motion does her focus snap back to his features, a pale face now vaguely knitted.

     Adam does not say the word, and yet Serena knows what place he speaks of to be a home. His home. His home, where they would go to look over forgotten designs, and where he would prepare her food and let her wash up and tend to bones and muscles screaming for peace. The ice in her veins screams to say no, to not confuse her immortality with recklessness and stupidity. And yet, with how he looks to her—a single string of the heart pulls and fights against it in some solitary and pathetic protest.

          "That's...” – too far; too much— “…No-one has done that for me for a long time— offered that much after a performance. I'm not really sure what to say."

     A single laugh muffles against her lips. Neither joyous nor free, but sharp and of exasperation with only herself in its crosshairs. She smooths over the skirt of her dress with both hands, fingers spreading closer to the edges before resting back upon her lap entwined with that of the other hand’s. Wrapping over her knuckles, bloodless and pale skin.

          "I think I would like that, too. But, I... I want to understand something, first."

     She expects no honest answer. Perhaps something pleasant to the ears, or a dismissal hiding behind a veil of gentle redirection. Yet it gnaws at the woman’s thoughts, encompasses her chest in a restrictive hold. And it would be better now, she thinks, to ask it than later—in on open field, rather than within the walls of his home.

          "Why do you want to treat me so kindly...?" She asks, her voice barely above that of a whisper—something fragile and uncertain and yet still bearing with it a twinge of that wistful melody. "You've done nothing but that from the first time we met. Despite everything, and knowing that I wouldn't have been to blame if I never wanted to speak to you again. If it’s not an elaborate scheme, I just... wish to know what made you want to see me again."

[msshadowqueen]

Do you ever have characters where you're like...I totally love this character...but the fandom loves them too and they have a group of vehement supporters so you don't feel the need to discuss them at all? And you root for these marginalized characters that somehow get loads of hate and you become more fond of them because somehow so few others are?

[adanseying]

so 😕 about how Tessa has all these moments in internal monologue about how deep down she’s always known Aunt Harriet making excuses for Nate wasn’t right and that he didn’t deserve all they both did to coddle him and that she always compartmentalized to see him as a good older brother, and how that’s all come to the surface now she knows he was willing to sell her out (though not the full scope of that) but then when Mortmain comes she still instinctively doesn’t tell Nate and goes instead ‘to protect him’ ugh. Like it feels so real as a depiction of a woman internalizing societal norms even though part of her is aware…