#taken loosely from a conversation I had with a friend

[jogetsobsessed]

One Night - Paul Lahote x reader

She's backkkkk! I know this isn't what you want, however, this survived the great laptop crash of 2024 (unlike the half-finished prophecy pt2 doc). This however is cutie in my opinion and I would be open to writing a part 2 (if anyone wants it). Also, I'm almost to 200 followers which is so crazy? Thank you for all the love!

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

“No, no, no, no”, you wailed as you looked at your hands. They were shaking as you clutched the plastic, the plus sign clear as day. Your body slumped down the wall of the bathroom, your body curling into itself as you hit the ground. 

What are you going to do? 

You were young, too young in your life to start thinking about starting a family. It's not even like you were seeing anyone. This whole situation came about after you had a bad day and just wanted to forget. To forget life and all your problems. 

You let yourself have fun, with someone you only kind of knew.  At the time that had seemed like the best plan. You knew of him and had met a few times through your friend Emily. It was better than prowling on some meaningless app that you would just delete the next morning. He was nice to look at, extremely cocky, kind of an asshole to everyone else, but always kind to you. 

The few times you had met Paul Lahote before your night of fun he had never gone out of his way to talk to you but that was okay with you. All the other boys that hung around Emily’s house could be way too much. Just dropping her off after work would lead to you being pulled into a two-hour conversation because none of them knew when to shut up. Paul however would always hover on the porch or somewhere else in your eyeline. He never came up to join the conversation but never left his spot of isolation either. 

So after a bad day at the clinic, Emily invited you back to her place for a drink and you accepted. Emily was your friend, one of the only actual friends you had made since moving to the Forks area six months prior. But you haven't spent much time together outside of work, except for riding to and from the clinic. 

But this shift had been so rough on both of you that you needed to vent to each other and get something in your system to make you forget a little. Cut to hours later neither of you notice her fiance and his friends walking in the house to you and Emily losing it on the couch, clutching your sides from how hard you were laughing. 

It wasn't even the alcohol necessarily, the two of you had split a bottle of wine but that wasn't enough to get you messed up to the point of uncontrollable laughter. No, it was finally being able to relax in good company, let loose and enjoy yourself. 

The boys had just snickered at the two of you, Emily’s fiance ushering them back into the kitchen to give the two of you some space. However, at some point, hunger struck and the kitchen was calling your name. 

Emily had declared nachos as the snack of choice and you couldn't agree more. She had charged through the sea of testosterone while you decided to timidly hug the doorframe, not knowing where to place yourself down. The kitchen was full of Sam’s friends and there wasn't a place to sit. You were thinking of slipping into the kitchen and leaning against the counter while Emily assembled plates of goodness.

That was until a particular tanned-skin boy stood up and very subtly gestured towards the chair. A sudden confidence had taken over you, and you certainly can blame that on the wine. Crossing the room in just a few paces you lower yourself onto the previously occupied seat and join the rowdy group at the table. 

Looking up you gave him a silent look of thanks as he stood, leaning his back against the countertop. He reciprocated a small smirk before returning his attention to the intense game of spoons that the other boys were trying to rope you into. 

After that, the night was a blur. You had played a few rounds of the card game, Emily eventually joining with heaping plates of nachos, placing herself in her fiance's lap. Paul had disappeared momentarily, reappearing with an old wooden stool, sitting directly to your left. 

You tried to focus on everything happening, but it was no use. All you could think about was that simple gesture of kindness. The act of chivalry that no doubt was gonna earn him some teasing from his buddies, which is what made it and him so much more attractive. 

Thoughts of the beautiful man plagued your mind the whole night and when he offered to drive you back home at the end of the night you accepted. He blamed it on the fact that he wouldn't feel right if he let you drive home after drinking, even if it was just a few glasses of wine and that had been hours ago. 

Even though you felt completely sober at this point as it had been hours and you had eaten your fair share of nachos you obliged, how could you pass up the opportunity for one of the most attractive men you had laid eyes on in a long time to drive you home? 

Attractive and chivalrous, two things he had going for him. 

The ride home was nice, the windows rolled down, and your hair flowed in the breeze. He drove smoothly and slowly, taking the winding corners with ease. A song that occupied the radio 24/7 played, and you were in such a state of comfort that you allowed yourself to sing along softly. 

It was weird, you barely knew this man, yet you felt so comfortable around him. Being in his presence was easy. 

Once your headlights illuminated the front of your modest home you felt your heart sink. This was it, your night of bliss was going to end. He threw the truck in park, turning to face where you sat. He opened his mouth, to say what you have no idea because you cut him off before he got the chance to speak. 

“Do you wanna come in?”. 

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

That night had been six weeks ago. And since then you hadn't seen or heard from him once. Not that you had reached out much. The last thing you needed was to make things awkward and complicated with a friend of a friend. 

Only now things were gonna have to be awkward and complicated, it was sorta unavoidable. 

Time paused as you sat there on the bathroom floor. Staring at the pinked-capped stick. Part of you wished you hadn't taken the test, even if that would have just avoided the inevitable for a few days, maybe a couple of weeks. 

Your head was reeling as you attempted to comprehend the news. On one hand, you had always wanted to be a mom and had dreamed of it. However part of the dream was a perfect house, a perfect job, and a perfect husband. Someone that loved you and supported you. Having a baby daddy that you hardly knew wasn't exactly in the picture. 

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

At some point your body went on autopilot, you picked yourself off the ground and went through the motions of getting ready for the day. You didn't know what you were getting ready to do, you had already called out after you had woken up before the sun to empty your stomach of last night's dinner. 

The brain fog seemed to slightly lift once you were closing your car door, clutching the steering wheel as your life preserver. The pregnancy test in your pocket feels as if it weighs a thousand pounds. 

You felt insane. 

Who were you to go to this man who you barely knew and just throw this information at him, even if he deserved to know? Because this was his burden too. This wasn't an instance of immaculate conception, it took both of you to get into this situation. 

Recalling an earlier conversation with Emily where you had not so subtly asked what Paul did for work you remembered her mentioning the name of the garage. 

Since today simply could not get more insane you decided to embrace the insanity and started the drive towards the reservation. 

You practiced what you were gonna say over and over, but nothing sounded right. 

“Hey, remember me? I'm the girl you slept with once and ghosted, well I'm pregnant”. 

“Paul, remember me? Y/N, yeah so you kinda got me pregnant”. 

“Hey so remember when I told you that you didn't need a condom, well I say dumb things I don't mean when I’m around pretty people”. 

You were so screwed. 

----------

The parking lot was practically empty because of course, it was. Of course, there wouldn't be enough cars for you to blend in and hide for a little bit to gather your confidence. No besides your car there were only three others, and since you knew that Paul's truck was one of them there was a decent chance that the other two were also employees. The large bay doors of the shop were opening, one of the bays occupied with an old Volvo on the lift. 

Crossing the parking lot, the man of the hour caught your attention. Paul was alone in the garage. Grease and oil covered his hands and forearms as his attention was focused on the car above him. Patting your jacket pocket you made sure your proof was still there. You had only made it about halfway once he spotted you. He did a double take, a minor look of confusion showing. I mean why wouldn't he be confused, you weren't friends and here you were just randomly showing up at his place of business. 

Deciding to pull whatever last shred of confidence you had buried deep down you didn't turn chicken and run back to your car. No, you carried on walking, right up to the edge of his behemoth of a toolbox, slightly leaning on it to gain some support. The nerves make your whole body feel unstable. 

The wrench was abandoned, clattering inside said toolbox and he found a discarded towel that was so dirty it looked like it was only gonna make his hands worse. You couldn't help but study the way his body moved, how he looked in his work clothes, and how his muscles were contracting as he attempted to clean off the grime. Jesus Christ you need to get a hold of yourself, you thought. 

What you didn't notice was he was doing the same to you, looking you up and down searching for a reason as to why you were here. It wasn't until a breeze blew through the garage, that he realized he didn't only smell the dense forest and the various scents of the garage. It carried a faint smell of vanilla and lavender. But it wasn't just that, it was mixed with pine and rosemary. He bristled at the realization, the unique combination meant one thing and one thing only. It had been weeks since he last saw you there’s no way his scent would hang out on you that long unless…

Suddenly nothing else mattered except what you had to say. He wanted to help, to try and make the situation better. So he started to speak, to try and break this ice. But just like you had done weeks prior you beat him to the punch. 

“I’m pregnant”. 

The visible look of relief caused him to calm down, the last thing he wanted in this situation was for you to be stressed out. And the thought of you being so scared to talk to him broke his heart a little bit if he was being honest. 

“Is it mine?”. 

Paul could have ended it all in that moment. Why was he like this? 

He knew it was his, he had definitive proof, and he chose to play the idiot and make the woman who was carrying his child feel worse than she already did. 

“What the hell are you suggesting Paul? Yes it's yours, I wouldn't be telling you if it wasn't”. You crossed your arms across your chest, suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable and exposed. The confidence meter has fully run out. 

“Yeah no yeah. That um makes sense, I’m sorry. That was a real jackass thing to say. Of course you wouldn't tell me if it wasn't mine”. Paul rubbed the back of his neck as he rambled, avoiding eye contact with you. The magic inside of him was screaming at him, his instincts to protect almost taking over what little composure he held. 

He hadn't planned on telling you about the bond you shared. At least not for a while. 

You were still kinda new to town, and it wasn't fair to derail your life because you had decided to be a kind person and drop Emily off just a few weeks after you had moved. The bond had set in that day, as he was leaving Emily’s house and heading out to his truck. His eyes had darted up upon hearing Em’s voice and what he hadn't expected was to almost fall flat on his face. 

Because for a split second, the two of you made eye contact, it was fleeting and you had returned your eyes to your friend immediately. It had meant nothing to you and everything to him. 

Since that day he vowed to protect you but also to not act selfish and to allow you to make your own decisions.  Which is why he couldn't help but feel horrible. He had ruined your life. 

Paul thinks back to that night, running his mind over every minute, had you been drunk? He had only used that as an excuse to drive you home. But if you had been too intoxicated to make coherent decisions he would never forgive himself. 

“Yeah that was a real jackass thing to say”, you sniffled proud of yourself for not bursting out into heavy sobs. Because in all honesty while it felt like a physical blow hearing him question your morals he was handling the situation better than you would have if you were in his position. It was a fair question, you had only slept together once. 

The next few minutes seemed to pass slowly. After standing there basking in the awkward silence he told you to wait a second and walked into the attached office. You did as he said, too nervous to take the opportunity and leave. He returned a few moments later with much cleaner hands and a small smile graced his face. God, how you were growing to love that smile. 

“Boss told me to head out for the day, don't worry I only told him that I need to take a certain pretty girl out to lunch”, he sent you a wink as he slammed the lid on the toolbox down. Your cheeks grew warm at the compliment, even with how pg it was. I mean this man got you pregnant but him calling you pretty had your chest hammering. 

His hand found its way to the small of your back as he walked, ushering you out of the garage so he could lower the bay door. Once it was down he turned to face you with a smirk replacing the kind smile from earlier. 

“Come on doll, looks like I gotta feed my baby mama”. He howled with laughter as the small tinge of red on your cheeks turned into your whole face going crimson. “Oh this is gonna be fun”, he said through his laughs. 

His warmth on your skin brought you back to that state of peace that you remembered so fondly. You let him lead you towards his truck, thanking him as he shut your door. 

As Paul jogged to the driver's side a smile fought against the smirk. This wasn't how he pictured everything going but he wasn't mad. It wasn't like he got some random girl pregnant, no he got you pregnant. And while you may believe that you were just a random girl to him that was not how he felt. But he wasn't going to tell you that, at least not right now. The last thing he wanted to do was stress you out even more than you already were. 

So he was going to wait. 

He could learn to be content with you being in his life as a girlfriend, or even just the mother of his child. And when the time was right he would tell you.

But for now, he could wait.

[crimimnal-mineds-part2]

Reid: my coworker’s kids are great, they’re cute kids

Reid: but they’re also assholes.

Reid: for example, once when hotch asked me to watch Ben, he came home with a gift for Ben

Reid: Ben looks at me and goes, “that’s what parental affection looks like, if you were wondering.”

Reid: I was bullied all throughout childhood, but that was a truly gutting remark

[soobnny]

my girl — jeongin x f!reader ; the boys find out their youngest has a gf

(1.3k words)

It’s a once in a while thing for the boys to be able to eat out together.

Challenges usually pose through schedule conflicts, one or the other being absent, and timing. They can never truly catch a break. So, when the first sign of a temporary alignment showed, they took the opportunity in a flash.

It was going to be their first dinner together in months, one of their off days.

Usually, the next challenge of indecisiveness would present itself. However, their youngest is quick to suggest a place.

Apparently, they had really good jjajangmyun.

(The boys didn’t know then, but it was because the faster they could decide where to eat, the faster he could go visit you.)

(They also didn’t know then that jjajangmyun was your favorite.)

A chorus of laughter echoes through the little corner store as they’re served their third plate of food. Jeongin didn’t lie about their food, and it was a safe enough space for them to celebrate the end of their latest comeback season.

“Seungmin, you’re getting really brave with your jokes about PD-nim.”

“I ran that contract renewal like the military.”

They spend the night joking, revisiting their past, and being hopeful for the future. A few grateful messages are exchanged after liquid courage is brought to their table. And while a simple night, the boys knew they’d remember this day for the rest of their lives.

There’s quiet pop music playing in the back—the kind you’d hear in the early 2000s. And Han Jisung orders another plate of jjajangmyun.

“Ayen, the food here is crazy good. How’d you find this place?”

Jeongin snaps out of his mental chant at the call of his name, fox-eyes trained on the older boy before the question reverberates in his mind. “My girlfriend recommended it.”

A pin drops.

Their youngest has a habit of lying, taken after his roommate, Seungmin. He usually does it with sneaky smiles and a few giggles. However, both signs indicative of lying are absent, and the boy has the audacity to refill his plate and keep eating as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on his members.

“Girlfriend?” Hyunjin is the first to speak, asking the boy to reiterate what he had just said, even though he heard. Loud and clear, in fact.

“Uhuh.” Jeongin replies through a mouthful of food. “What?”

He looks curiously around the table. His friends’ eyes are glazed, and he’d expected the conversation to be over three minutes ago, but it doesn’t.

Jeongin is in the middle of another bite when all hell breaks loose.

“Girlfriend?!” It’s said even louder now, more amplified, and Hwang Hyunjin stands from where he was previously seated in pure disbelief. All the while, their eldest is having an existential crisis. “Innie, what do you mean?”

He perks his head up, pursing his lips slightly and tilting his head. “What’s the big deal?”

“You have a girlfriend and you didn’t tell us?” It’s Han’s turn to be perplexed, and it’s humorous the way his features mimic the dramatic shock on Hyunjin’s.

Seungmin simply keeps eating.

“Yah, Kim Seungmin. Why aren’t you as surprised as us?”

“I already knew.”

“Seungmin knew, but not us?!”

“Not my fault he trusts me with dating advice.”

That boy definitely knows how to add fuel to fire. Chaos erupts as the younger half harass Seungmin for knowing before them.

“How long have you been dating?,” Minho asks.

“Just around 3 months now.”

If Chan was out of it then, you wouldn’t know how to describe his state now. Felix sits next to him to comfort the poor boy.

“My baby has been dating for 3 months, and I didn’t know anything.”

“Sorry.” Jeongin responds bashfully, scratching the back of his head. He knew his hyungs would act this way, which had led to his decision of keeping it hidden for a while. He thinks he should’ve just told them right away.

Though, he thought they’d known by now. He wasn’t exactly the most secretive about it, and he was sure he’d mentioned you before.

And although shocking to suddenly hear that their youngest (and their baby) had a girlfriend, they will not have his head for it. They know he’s responsible enough to know what not to do, and it was a little touching to know the boy had enough time to fit romance in his life.

“Show us what she looks like!”

The boys get a selfie of you that’s set as his lockscreen, and it’s enough proof to have the boys cooing at how adorable you two would be together.

“Motherfucker, she’s really pretty.” Changbin comments.

“I know.”

Meanwhile, Han and Hyunjin are making up fake scenarios in the corner, scrolling through photos and videos. Then a message.

While their youngest is distracted, Han quickly taps on the notification.

(8:23pm) innie: I miss u

(8:30pm) ynie: miss u too!!!!

(8:31pm) innie: Wish you were here right now

(8:32pm) ynie: aren’t u celebrating with ur friends rnnn

(8:32pm) ynie: stop texting me and enjoy !!!

(8:33pm) innie: But i miss u

(8:33pm) innie: Call me later?

(8:36pm) ynie: after you spend time with ur friends let’s call

(8:37pm) innie: Wanna call now. Just for a second

(8:37pm) innie: Haven’t heard your voice in a while

(8:37pm) ynie: ok fine >:( give me like 10-15 mins

(8:51pm) ynie: i’ll call now

“Oh my god, she’s calling.”

That’s definitely enough to get Jeongin’s attention.

“Give me my phone back.” He reaches out to them, but Hyunjin is fast enough to swipe it.

“Answer it!” Changbin instigates.

Jeongin’s eyes widen in horror when he hears your voice go through his phone. “Innie? Oh—hello.”

You sound so shy, and Chan feels like he’s about to cry. “She calls him Innie.”

The youngest finally snatches his phone back when all Hyunjin could do was stare at you through the screen of his phone. You were real. Yang Jeongin actually has a girlfriend.

“Hi.” He mumbles, moving away from their table to talk to you privately. Though, before he does, he makes sure he leaves a threat to the boys not to follow him. “‘M sorry, did they scare you, baby?”

“It’s okay, I was just surprised.”

Jeongin visibly melts at the sound of your voice. “The boys know about us now.”

“I figured.” You laugh, and the service at the restaurant doesn’t do the warmth of your laughter any justice. He can’t wait to see you later.

“Can I see you later?”

“Mkay, but just… enjoy your time with the boys, okay? You told me it’s been a while since all of you were able to relax over a meal like this.”

“Fine.” He sighs, before a smile creeps on his face. “They liked your suggestion.”

“That’s good. Now go!” There’s a pout on his lips when you shoo him away. “Go have fun, go! I’m hanging up now. Love you!”

“Love you too.”

The wide, bright smile remains on his face even when he goes back to their table.

“Who has our Ayen smiling like that?”

“My girl.”

“Innie’s getting soft.” Minho teases.

Seungmin, on the other hand, fake vomits at his response, and another chorus of laughter bursts from their seats. The night continues through conversations over Jeongin’s sudden revelation, and the promise to let the boys meet you properly next time. He agrees if they promise not to scare you away.

And while he’d kept you a secret for a while, he can’t help but feel a tinge of happiness in his heart that the most important people in his life know about you now, are even eager to meet you. There is no better contentment than all of the people he loves aligning with one another.

The entire night, Jeongin itches in anticipation to hold you in his arms and hear your voice in person after his schedules had torn apart his much needed quality time with you. And when he asks to leave, they don’t need to know where he’s going.

One look at his face, and the only evident answer is you.

[cherriesnpapaya]

Fashion Killer - LN

In which Mr Norris is left speechless over a sundress.

Warnings: NSFW - smut. unprotected sex, oral (both male and female receiving / giving), friends with benefits, soft dom!lando,

Lan <3 - are you coming to the race?

Miami Grand Prix. In which the men on the grid couldn’t get away from models. Families definitely weren’t invited to this exhilarating mess of a weekend.

On my way sweet cheeks, please find me the coldest drink you can. - sent

Lando couldn’t care less what model they had behind him, trying to seem interested in the sport. He was watching her walk to the paddock in that ridiculously perfect sundress.

Loose, hung perfectly over her american doll legs. The cream of the linen light and only complimented by her brunette hair curled to perfection on her sides. He could practically feel how soft the stands felt as his hands gripped his bottle.

The tan she sported a crude reminder of her skimpy attire she had been living in whilst they lounged around the villa the last few days. He got them the quiet space, filled it with his friends to distract everyone and then revelled in her presence.

Bright smile on her cheeks as she waved for the cameras. Max Fewtrell by her side as they came to join Norris after supporting Fewtrell with his racing activities.

“How are you dressed in that.” She groaned, slipping onto a stool next to him. Lando had to peel his eyes off her legs before he ditched the car to catch a ride instead.

“My job, honey.” He chuckled, holding out his bottle for her. Bad idea.

He watched her lips wrap around the straw. He’s taken back to when he was teaching her how to use the bottles, and somehow ended up with a blowjob.

Final calls were being made to start the pre race media, so Lando stood up and opened his arms for his friends to fall into them.

“Go get em tiger.” She chuckled, the bottle handed back to him with the deep pink stain of her lipstick around the top of it. God how Lando wished to be a straw.

He certainly got them, coming first place for the first time in his career. He dripped with sweat, and some water he’s poured over his face, gleaming ear to ear. His tan still deep golden next to his orange suit.

The celebrations were never ending. From the crowd, his team, other garages and of course his fellow drivers. They poured into his villa, music and drinks flowing freely. The hum of chatter with the occasional cheer as the winner would join conversations. He worked his way round, trying to find the girl he’s been thinking about every second of the day.

“Thought I’d lost you.” He made her jump, slipping into her room. She turned from her position in front of the mirror, earrings in hand.

“I was just going to change.”

“But you look fit.” He could help but speak his mind. The filter between them had been lost about 6 shags ago.

“Have caught you staring a few times.”

“Oh no, punish me for my crimes please.”

He sneered, falling back onto the plush white bed. She rolled her eyes, placing the earrings down. The carpet muffled her steps, letting her slip between his open legs quietly.

“Aren’t you meant to be celebrating?” She teased, arms crossed as he peaked a look at her:

“I am, what’s my prize?” He hummed, sitting up to place his hands on the back of her thighs. Cheeky eyes gazed up at her, watching as her lip caught between her teeth. His thumbs worked circles into the soft skin. She didn’t know if she was desperate, but it felt like they slowly moved inwards.

The music vibrated through the floor, which she was quick to notice when she dropped to her knees. Lando couldn’t help the smirk taken over him, quickly removing anything in the way. He propped back on elbows as she finally took him into her hands.

Profanities rough from his throat as she took him down hers, tongue tracing the vein down the side of him. Bobbing her head, tongue piercing running over his top just how he liked. He throbbed, excitement having built up all day. She hummed, smirking when his head would fall back from watching her.

“Shit baby c’mere.” He ran a hand over her jaw, pushing her off his stained cock. He had the stamina for races in incredible heats, but she knew just how to ruin a man. He slipped off his tshirt in a blink, hands back glued to her hips as he pulled her to straddle his legs.

When she moved to slip her dress off, he caught her wrists, pushing them behind her back to drop them there. Her insides giddy with the move, grinding down slowly on his crotch.

“No chance. You’ve been teasing me with this all day.” He spoke against her neck, leaving sloppy kisses and sucks on any exposed skin. She didn’t even notice his fingers lingering over her panties, moving them to the side.

“Lando.” She whined, arms now hooked around his neck. He kneaded her arse, hips, tits as he sunk into her slowly. Her head rolled, moans covered up by the sounds of some asap song underneath them.

He could barely speak, weak moans fell from his open mouth as she took more control. Moving up and down at her own speed, occasionally rolling her hips to get him to hit that one spot.

She gasped, eyes shut as she rolled continuously into the same spot. Lando knew the tightness, he knew what it meant for you to get close.

“Just like that pretty girl.” He cooed, fingers brushing slowly over her clit in an aggravating manor. A string of swear words left the previously painted lips as she rolled, now mixing between rutting against his fingers and his cock.

Thank god for the loud music as she came for the first time that night, her body spasms into his as the rocking comes to an end.

“You good?” He checked, hands playing with the hem of her dress.

“So good.” Practically drooling, Lando chuckled at the cock drunk girl slumped into him. He attached his lips to hers, lifting her up to swap them around. Her legs rested over the end of the bed, not having a chance to even prop herself up before Lando licked a stripe through her folds.

It was a guilty pleasure of Lando’s, enjoying her body’s reactions to the way he rolled his tongue over her bud. Her legs wrapped around his head, before spreading again as she ran her fingers through his curls. She moaned out as Lando spat into her opening, the smile on his lips almost pushed her over the edge itself. And there she came, for a second time.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He complimented, overwhelmed by the look of her on the bed currently. Fucked out, face flushed and smiling. Hair sprawled out over the mattress, looking like a goddess. It made him harder to just look.

“Fuck me Lando.” She pulled him back in, heel digging into this back causing him to practically fall forward. He pretended to be shocked, moving her ankles to hang over her shoulders as he got right back to it.

“So fucking tight.” He hissed, fucking in and out of her and she swore he was in her stomach. He knew he was nearly fucked out, her nails digging into his stomach hinted the feeling was mutual.

Before he could pull out, he was pushing the warmth into her further. Moaning out probably a bit too loud, stilling completely as they both caught their breaths. Once he had pulled out, he was helping her clean up, pulling the dress back down to sit perfectly again.

“Wear that dress for me again sometime.”

“That’s a boyfriend privilege Norris.”

——————

Thank you for reading! New to the scene, so send any prompts/inspo over. I hope to write lots more for ya ;)

[itsswritten]

wings

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader, IC (platonic) x reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Warnings: 18+, smut, P in V, lots of fluff

Summary: Who would've thought that your found family would be so captivated by your hidden wings? As they reminisce about their first glimpses of your ethereal secret, you realise just how cherished and adored you truly are.

Wings Universe - More from this world.

"I distinctly remember," Mor began, her voice filled with excitement, drawing not only your attention from the comforting cocoon of Azriel's arms, but also the rooms. She sat opposite you, a slight mischief twinkling in her eyes as she leaned forward.

You were all nestled in one of the many living rooms at the House of Wind. 

Under the flickering faelight, you sat beside Azriel– your mate. His large presence ever the comfort, as he enveloped you in his arms. His fingers, tracing intricate patterns through your hair, each touch sending ripples of relaxation through your body. 

If it weren't for the loudness of your friends and family, their remarks not failing to echo through the room, Azriel’s touch alone could have lulled you into a blissful slumber. 

"It was a surprise for sure," Feyre chimed in, a playful smirk dancing across her lips as she glanced over at your slightly confused expression. Sensing your distraction, Azriel reluctantly released his hold on you, joining the conversation with a gentle touch of his hand settling on the small of your back.

"My experience was quite a shock," Cassian added with a grin.

“Mine, I have to say is one I’d like to forget” Rhys grimaced as Feyre gave him an annoyed knowing look.

Amren, rolled her eyes at her family's theatrics. "You all make such a big deal out of everything," she remarked, her tone dry.

Your brows furrowed as you pieced together the fragments of the conversation, realisation dawning as Mor's words began to paint a vivid picture.

The topic of discussion? The first time they laid eyes on your beautiful wings.

 𓇢𓆸

Mor, Feyre and Nesta.

It was one of Feyre’s first nights out since welcoming Nyx into the world; she’d been dying for a night off. Craving the simple joys of the company of her girlfriends. Sensing her desperation for a night to let loose, you, Mor, and Nesta had taken it upon yourselves to orchestrate the perfect girls night out for your High Lady.

The night quickly unfolded into a flurry of laughter and dancing. Drinks were spilled, songs were sung. Rita’s being your chosen sanctuary for the night. You all let yourselves get lost in the music and infectious energy of the bar. Drinks were flowing freely, and the hours quickly slipped away like grains of sand in an hourglass.

It wasn’t until the sun had started to rise again that you all quickly realised you needed to get home. You’re not sure how in their drunken states, but Mor and Feyre had successfully managed to winnow you all back to River House, all collapsing in a giggling heap in the foyer.

A fit of laughter overtook the group as you stumbled and pushed, trying to untangle yourselves from one another. You managed to push yourself onto unsteady feet, only to trip over Nesta’s dress and stumble back onto Mor. With your balance faltering, a shimmer of magic danced through the air as your wings burst forth, a kaleidoscope of iridescent pink hues unfurling into the air. Your wings, delicate and light, burst with specs of fairy dust that glowed around you.

The room fell silent, the trio frozen in awe at the sight before them. Then, like a spell breaking, laughter bubbled forth, filling the space with joyous echoes. Mor's eyes sparkled with delight as she pulled you into an embrace, Feyre's lips curled into a grin, and even Nesta couldn't help but crack a smile.

"You sneaky thing," Mor teased, reaching out to brush her fingers against the delicate wings "Keeping such beauty hidden away."

“I bet Azriel loves keeping this side of you to himself,” Nesta purred, her voice laced with mischief as something provocative glinted in her eyes.

You responded with a playful stick-out of your tongue at Nesta, before turning your attention to Mor and Feyre, who were now a pair of mesmerised females, giggling like children as they reached out to touch this new part of their friend they had never seen before.

They had always known you had wings, from the type of fae you were, but you had always kept them hidden and they never dared to ask for you to reveal them.

"Hands off!" you exclaimed, your voice a blend of amusement and mock outrage as you swatted and smacked at their approaching fingers, the sound of laughter echoing through the halls.

Of course, they respectfully obeyed your wishes, but there was a warmth that filled their chests as you all stumbled arms wrapped around one another through the house, enjoying a new part of their friend that had been revealed.

 𓇢𓆸

Cassian.

Cassian's mischievous streak knew no bounds, especially when it came to playing pranks on you. He found something undeniably endearing about your reactions, and there was a certain satisfaction when he knew these teasing antics could also annoy Azriel too. 

On this particular day, you were busy in the kitchen, practising a cake recipe that Elain had shared with you. Determined to make the perfect cake for Azriel's upcoming birthday, you meticulously measured ingredients, oblivious to the looming presence of your giant friend.

Cassian's eyes twinkled with mischief as he saw his chance to play. With careful grace, he approached, holding his breath before unleashing his voice.

"BOO!" His voice boomed across the room, his figure looming over you with a triumphant grin.

Startled, you spun around in a flurry of flour, heart racing in your chest at the sudden noise. And then, in a moment of surprise, your magic wavered, and your wings unfurled in a burst of ethereal light.

The room fell silent as Cassian's eyes widened in disbelief, laughter fading into awe at the sight before him. "What in the Cauldron," he breathed, barely a whisper, his finger pointing at the delicate appendage. "What are those?"

You fluttered your wings away, annoyance evident in your voice as you retaliated with a playful toss of flour in his direction. "Cassian!" you exclaimed.

"YOU HAVE WINGS!" Cassian's excitement was palpable, his grin spreading from ear to ear.

"Of course I have wings, I'm a fairy," you retorted, arms outstretched in exasperation.

“AZRIEL…YOUR MATE HAS WINGS” he screamed knowing his vibrating voice would find his brother.

Azriel materialised from the shadows, concern evident in his eyes as he approached, brushing away the flour that had settled on your face. His expression shifted to admiration as he took in the sight of your wings shimmering behind you.

"Stop tormenting my mate, Cass," Azriel scolded gently, his protective instincts kicking in as he pulled you into a soft embrace, his lips pressing to the top of your head.

"She has wings!" Cassian exclaimed once more, disbelief colouring his tone. There was a touch of annoyance, as he realised he may have been the only one to not know this about you.

Cassian, like a moth attracted to a light, reached his giant hand out again wanting to get close to the wings that were so unlike his own.

"No touching" Azriel growled, his tone leaving no room for argument. Cassian withdrew his hand, a hint of disappointment flickering across his features as he chewed his lip in an attempt to avoid pouting.

"So does this mean... we can go flying together?" Cassian asked as the revelation came to his mind, excitement bubbling in his voice.

Your brow quirked slightly, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as a small smirk tugged at your lips. Cassian watched you carefully, anticipation written across his features, while Azriel pulled away knowingly.

You nodded slowly, a challenge evident in your gaze. "I’ll race ya," you declared, a thrill of excitement coursing through your veins.

With that, you pushed past Cassian and darted out of the room, your wings fluttering gracefully as you made your way to the nearest balcony. Without hesitation, you leaped off the edge and into the open air, the wind rushing past you as you soared into the night sky.

Cassian was quick to follow, a grin spreading across his face as he embraced the exhilarating freedom of flight. And not far behind him, Azriel joined the fray, his own wings beating with a steady rhythm as he soared through the air.

Together, you three took to the skies, weaving and darting through the night sky.

 𓇢𓆸

Rhys and Nyx.

“And stretch them out…That’s it my boy” Rhys spoke proudly as he watched his son in front of him stretch and extend his wings.

You had found yourself in the company of one of Rhys’ flying lessons, nestled on one of the chaise lounges on the balcony, a book in hand as you half-read, half-watched your High Lord teaching his son how to use his wings.

Nyx, though perhaps still a little too young to fly, was eager to learn. So desperate to be like his father and uncles. With Rhys' guidance, he tentatively stretched out his wings, mimicking his father's movements under the watchful gaze of the night sky.

Rhys, a picture of fatherly pride, stood by Nyx's side, his attention unwavering—until a sudden commotion from inside drew his focus for just a fleeting moment. In that brief lapse of attention, the sudden gust of wind caught Nyx and his perfectly poised wings off guard, sending him teetering towards the edge, a gasp escaping his lips.

Instinct surged through you like a bolt of lightning as your wings burst forth in a flurry of motion, carrying you across the expanse with a grace honed over centuries. With swift precision, you swooped in, catching Nyx in your embrace just as he hovered on the brink of danger.

Wide-eyed and breathless, Nyx looked up at you in awe, his innocent admiration pulling at the strings of your heart. "Pwetty," he murmured, his wonder mirrored in the glow of your own wings, illuminated by the moonlight.

You wasted no time in safely landing back onto the balcony, Rhys rushing to your side with bewilderment and shock etched on his features as a torrent of thank-yous spilled from his lips.

As Nyx pawed at your wings, you carefully fluttered them away from his reach, mindful of their delicate nature. Rhys, after the scare of what had just happened, or almost happened. Took a moment to truly appreciate the sight of your wings— beautiful and light, shimmering a pink glow that was a stark contrast to his own.

His relief was short-lived, however, as it became apparent that Feyre had witnessed the entire ordeal. With a swift scolding, she whisked Nyx from your arms, sending you a silent 'thank you' before retreating inside, cradling her son protectively.

"No flying lessons with Daddy from now on," Feyre scolded directly at her mate before she cooed at her son again. "What would we have done if Auntie Y/N hadn't been here?" she mused aloud, her words lingering in the night air.

Rhys glanced over at you, questions swirling in his head at how you had so quickly been there to rescue their son from danger. 

"They may be more delicate than your wings, but I am quicker, swifter, and more agile than you big Illyrian babies will ever be," you teased lightly, your words carrying a hint of playfulness.

"Thank the Cauldron you are," Rhys breathed with a soft smile, his eyes reflecting the depths of his gratitude. You gently patted his shoulder before ushering him inside.

 𓇢𓆸

Azriel.

“Gods you are beautiful” Azriel groaned, sweat beading down his temple as he looked at you. Your own eyes fluttering shut in pleasure as you continued to ride your mate.

You had both finally and officially accepted the mating bond, preparing Azriel’s favourite meal as a gesture of your acceptance. He had eagerly devoured the food, the golden thread connecting you both deeper and stronger than you ever thought possible.

You had felt his emotion rippling towards you that night. There was a sense of overwhelming gratitude, a deep-seated appreciation for finally having someone who understood him in ways no one else ever could. There was a feeling of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, knowing that he had found someone who truly accepted him for who he was.

But above all, there was a profound sense of belonging—a feeling of being chosen, not just as a lover, but as a partner, a confidant, a soulmate.

As the night progressed, things escalated quickly. Your bodies entwined in a passionate frenzy. Finally, after months of yearning and longing, you found yourselves in each other's arms.

You straddled him, your breasts flushed against his hard chest, in an unbreakable embrace as his hands tightly gripped your lower back, moving with you as you rode out a dance of pleasure. His large wings stretched behind him, twitching slightly as a sign of his impending release.

"You feel so perfect, angel," he purred against your neck, peppering it with soft kisses before pulling away to watch your face.

Your features were contorted in a mix of pleasure and desire, moans escaping from your lips as you steadily climbed towards climax. His rhythm became deeper and more intense, bringing you closer to the edge.

"Azriel..." you moaned out his name, throwing your head back and arching your body as ecstasy coursed through you. 

“That’s it my love, that’s it…”

Azriel’s words got stuck in this throat as he watched you reach the peak of bliss, the air around you suddenly seemed to shimmer and a soft ethereal light enveloped your beings. Azriel's eyes widened in awe at the magnificent sight before him. Glowing iridescent wings sprouted from your back, their delicate pink hues dancing in the dim light of your chamber. They fluttered gently, casting a mesmerising glow that bathed both of you in a radiant aura of magic.

Filled with wonder and awe, he was sent over the edge, his own release filling you as he held the most ethereal being in his arms. 

"So beautiful..." Azriel breathed out, almost in disbelief as he couldn't fathom how you could be any more breathtaking than you already were. 

Your wings twitched and fluttered as you rode out the waves of pleasure, the intensity of the moment slowly subsiding as you rested your forehead against Azriel's, your breaths mingling in the intimate space between you. A blush crept across your cheeks as you realised what you had just revealed to him in your most vulnerable and intimate moment. The soft glow of your wings gradually settled, the dust they had created floating gently around the room like stardust.

"Azriel... I..." you began, your voice barely a whisper, emotions swirling within you like a tempest.

But before you could find the words to express the depth of your feelings, Azriel's firm yet gentle voice cut through the air, his eyes flickering with warmth and adoration as he spoke.

"Let me say it first," he insisted, his arms tightening around you in a comforting embrace. "You are my guiding light in the darkness, my entire soul's devotion...I..- I love you."

Your wings, now settled and slightly slumped with the weight of the moment, trembled at his words, the warmth in your chest swelling with each syllable he uttered. Tears welled in your eyes, reflecting the tear that had already spilled from Azriel's.

"I love you, Azriel," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. "I am yours forever, in this life and the next."

Your lips found one another again, bodies and souls intertwining under the soft glow of your wings.

 𓇢𓆸

As your friends reminisced about the first time they saw your wings, Azriel, ever the gentleman, only vaguely danced around his recollection. He shared that it had been when you accepted the mating bond for him. The vague blush that covered your cheeks was enough to dissuade further inquiry from your friends.

"Am I the only one who didn't realise you had wings?" Cassian asked incredulously, only to be met with a pillow thrown by Mor.

"You really need to brush up on your Fae race history and anatomy if you didn’t know she had wings" she teased, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"I can’t believe it all had to be so dramatic though," Amren remarked. "I simply asked her to show me the first week we met, and she obliged."

You smiled nervously at Amren's confession, feeling the weight of your friends' stares.

"So you're saying we could have just asked all this time?" Feyre exclaimed.

You chuckled sheepishly. "I only hide them because they’re delicate... and you guys can be, well…"

"We can be what?" Mor's gaze teased as she leaned in closer.

Instinctively, you moved closer to Azriel for protection, but he seemed to find humour in the situation.

"Clumsy... not always spatially aware," you admitted with a sheepish grin.

"Is that so?" Cassian drawled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he glanced at Mor.

"Show us your wings then," Nesta declared bluntly, slightly frustrated that Amren had gotten one up on her by simply asking you.

"No," you replied firmly, not wanting to suddenly bend to their will.

Cassian and Mor exchanged a knowing look, a mischievous plan forming between them. Without warning, they both lunged at you, their playful attack catching you off guard.

You cried out for Azriel's help, but to your dismay, he seemed to be thoroughly entertained by the spectacle unfolding before him. Cassian's firm grip on your wrists pulled you closer to him, while Mor's embrace from behind left you feeling both trapped and ticklish.

"Not spatially aware, huh?" Mor teased, her fingers jabbing playfully at your waist, eliciting a cascade of laughter from you.

Your please for assistance only seemed to amuse Azriel further, his smirk betraying the mischief dancing in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry, my love,” he chuckled, his voice laced with mirth. “But the outcome of this is one you know I love seeing.”

Your friends playful assault only continued, your giggles filling the room. And in the midst of it all, your wings unfurled, revealing the delicate, pink membranes that had been the topic of conversation for the past hour.

They fluttered from your back, casting a glowing aura across the room and around you. They resembled delicate petals kissed by the soft hues of dawn, shimmering an iridescent pink that mesmerised anyone who laid eyes on them. 

“There she is…” Azriel murmered under his breath. A fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He could feel the pride filling his chest as he watched you, gazing at your beautiful wings in all their ethereal glory.

But it wasn’t just your mate gazing at your with love.

No, your family found themselves grinning ear to ear, looking at you with admiration as they watched you glow.

A glow they were forever grateful for.

a/n: not really my best work, but just some loveliness for you all to read! It was an idea I came up with that I instantly dumped on @illyrianbitch (as I always do) and she thought it was a sweet enough idea to write, so here it isssss!! Enjoy my loves <3

Hopefully will resume series writing soon - Lottie x

[lxmelle]

Those letters for his students was like Gojo’s way of showing consideration for them.

That’s what Geto Suguru, the “Gojo translator”, would say to them, if he was there.

I mean, there was a reason they were best friends - Geto understood him the best. He helped him learn how to (and the importance of) connecting to others - how to not be lonely.

It was the same in the scene with Kuroi. Right before he shouted for Gojo over the time, he just instinctively knew how to connect with Gojo and helped others with sympathising with Gojo.

I didn’t play the JJK game but I think the undercurrent dynamics is similar. Their bond. The exclusivity. Love. The whole breakup was about their friendship. The change the new generation got was also due to the path forged by them. As it stands, Gojo is shown to be largely misunderstood and nobody aside from Yuta has shown much affection for Gojo. Maybe Yuji ... to some degree. But I digress.

Maybe it’s an unpopular opinion, but considering how Geto-centred Gojo’s GIGA Character book was, he was likely influenced by Geto’s strong protective love for his “family”.

It makes sense to me that Gojo thought it would be important to put the students’ minds at ease with any thoughts/questions about their family. Hence the letters to help tie up loose ends.

Megumi was shown to be thinking about his father, whin he assumed was out there somewhere. Even if he didn’t want to know, there is a subconscious level of unfinished business from thinking this. And to know that Gojo killed him, may have helped him realise that his sensei had his back all this while. He was worth protecting all this while. That chapter of his life can truly close.

And just how bloody typical of his sensei, who has no “delicate-ness” about him!

As a sensei, and as a person, Gojo always protected others from his own personal concerns. He and Geto both stubbornly lived & fought “alone” because this was just their belief as the burden of the strongest = to protect others. The line was drawn and Gojo only ever wanted Geto to understand him, hence his conversation in 236. Only ever needed Geto by his side: hence his only complex was Geto leaving him behind.

We see this in how Shoko felt distant from them both. Stating in her inner monologue how she could never love either of them, but she was there - insinuating what they had between them was not something she could give (love) but her friendship was there if only Gojo let her in. And we see it in how, when she tried to connect with Gojo post-unsealing, by including Geto’s body as someone to be retrieved, he was a bit taken aback, starting his sentence with a long pause “……...” and keeping it simple / not elaborating (だな - it’s like the equivalent of a “yeah” but implies agreement).

Also, the fact the students and others can joke and call him an idiot, etc. means he really hid it well. Gojo protected them all. (As a teacher and adult should, I guess.)

I’m reminded of this scene.

Geto helped Gojo empathise & “not bully the weak”, but to also consider what else may be important... even if they may not think so themselves.

Until they receive what they thought they didn’t want, only to realise it was what they needed after all.

Cuz… y’kow: people (especially children) don’t always know what they want or need.

Sometimes what you want isn’t what you need. What you need isn’t necessarily what you want.

Gojo & Geto lived through that too... didn’t they? On so many levels… wanting, needing, denying, losing, yearning. Carrying their burdens they had nobody to share with. Making decisions on their own. Giving to the other a piece of their heart. Sacrificing themselves. Accepting each others loneliness as their own. Thinking they were better off loving the other by being apart.

The painful lessons that shaped the way for the new world. Children given the protection from The Strongest Sorcerer of the Modern Era. Granted a world with fewer curses for 10 years due to the Strongest Curse User.

Children who had adults to guide, protect, and care for them.

Children who do not have to be killed for the mistakes of others, who were forced to commit sins, or for being born a certain way.

I think every single sorcerer who were adults helped the kids in some way. The layers and layers of this story is just... overwhelmingly beautiful.

Much remains to be seen now. I’m worried that Yuta will have to live in Gojo’s body and that Kenjaku’s eerie words of Yuta being “the next Gojo Satoru” will extend beyond that battle.

People on X seem to be speculating whether a world without curses will exist (going back to jjk 0 and Geto’s ideals). What of the barriers without tengen? Some question reality as we are being shown - is it an elaborate dream? Hm.

I hope for the plant/flower trio at least... Megumi and Yuji can use their shared tragedy as vessels who committed sins to bond and support one another. Nobara is a great buffer and heroine in her own right. Their dynamics are really amazing. Independent, yet so bonded.

I’d love to see Gojo & Geto at peace. I guess whatever happens, chapter 236 is a bit like salvation. And doesn’t Megumi’s smiling pic (above) look similar? If these two smiled as if they had no regrets , we can assume Megumi smiled sincerely upon receiving the letter, too.

As long as Gege doesn’t do anything to change it.

Please please don’t. They deserve a reward for their hard work and sacrifice!

[choerypetal]

Their Princess / Billy Loomis x Stu Macher

Summary: Billy and Stu have one motivation for their killing spree: to make you theirs, regardless of whether you realize they are Ghostface. They will stop at nothing to achieve this.

ps; english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammar errors xoxo

Being close to Sidney meant enduring her gossip, endless talk about boyfriends, and tantrums over the next party at Tatum's house. Now, with a serial killer on the loose and a mandatory curfew in place, you had to deal with Stu constantly trailing you. Clutching your books to your chest, you tried to focus elsewhere, only to bump into the talk of the town—Billy himself.

"Y/N..." His voice sang in your ear, just enough for Stu to rush to your side, his silhouette eclipsing your own. He leaned in close, nestling into the crook of your neck. You were fortunate that neither Tatum nor Sidney was there to witness it—unless their initial motive was evident from the first glance they shared. A glance of deceit, perhaps, when Stu’s pouty lips appeared as Billy spelled out your name, letter by letter. "Coming to this weekend’s party?" Billy asked, raising his brows while barely breaking his gaze. Stu’s sly fingers brushed your shoulder, tempting you not to react, especially under Billy’s intense stare.

You were taken aback by the question. Yes, Tatum had invited you—practically begged you to come because one of Randy’s friends would be there, and she wanted to set you up with him. Naturally, this information made its way back to Billy, thanks to Stu, who had overheard the entire conversation. His clingy hands were all over Tatum’s, trying to resist thinking about you the whole time.

"That would be great for Y/N, don't you think?" Her innocent question nearly made Stu choke on his drink that night. It was clear, the plan was to make you the grand finale. Not you with someone else. Someone who couldn’t satisfy their girl. Tatum smacked Stu’s chest, startled by his reaction, and nodded innocently with a chuckle. "Right, right," he said, obviously annoyed. "It sure would be great for Y/N." 

“Yes,” you said, your voice as soft as he expected. His lips curved into a smirk, and he bit his bottom lip, resisting the urge to devour you on sight, especially with the new skirt you had bought– thanks to Tatum. “Loving the new skirt,” he whispered, making you blush. Stu eagerly agreed. “Maybe our girl should wear that skirt this weekend,” he purred from behind you, his breath almost touching your skin. Billy quickly snapped Stu out of it with a sharp tap on the back of his neck. “What did we say about public intimacy?” Billy’s voice was almost a threat. 

Stu gulped silently. "Right," he said, smirking in perfect sync with Billy. Billy nodded, his gaze fixed on you, the main topic of this weekend's party conversation. "So," he paused, his eyes scrutinizing you in a way that made you shift uncomfortably—it was the same intense look he gave Sidney. Which you weren’t. "You'll be there?" You had almost forgotten the main question and quickly nodded, feeling vulnerable. Your swift response made him chuckle, clearly enjoying how small you felt between them. “Yes..”

Billy huffed in silence, ready to leave. Stu slid his fingers around your waist. "See you this weekend, princess," he said. Billy, anxious to avoid suspicion, muttered something under his breath, careful not to make any devious stares around the school. Despite hating the idea, he couldn't help but steal glances over his shoulder as he walked away, thoughts of you on top of him driving him nearly crazy. Unlike Stu, though, he had some boundaries when it came to sharing. 

The week flew by faster than you had expected. With the curfew in place, days ended earlier than usual, with bedtime set at 10 p.m. School was canceled until the suspect was caught, leaving you eager for some fresh air and the chance to join the Tatum’s party. The boys, especially Billy, were particularly impatient for your arrival. Particularly him, struggling to keep himself sane through the night, especially with Sidney wrapped around his finger. And you with another guy. 

"Jeez, man, if you keep pacing like this, our plan won't work. You look way too obvious right now," Stu's voice echoed in Billy's mind as he moved to the living room, leaving Sidney waiting in the bedroom. Mistake number one was to be as inconspicuous as possible around everyone. Kill, then execute plans A and B, and finally claim you as theirs. Easy, right? Billy thought to himself. But then your name was called out, and Randy’s arm was a little too close for his liking. He reconsidered. "Randy won't always have her around. Soon enough, she'll come begging for her hero’s to save her," Stu had said, and Billy appreciated the comment. After all, why would you be with a complete nerd?

He nods silently, feeling his friend’s hand squeezing his shoulder. “Deal with Sid. I’ll deal with her. Treat her like the princess she is.” And he wasn’t entirely wrong, focusing all his attention on you. While he noticed Randy welcoming you with open arms and the others happily handing you a bottle of beer. Tatum back at the garage to grab some extra beers. Billy couldn’t help but steal glances in your direction before finally trying to distract himself. He immediately needed a distraction, one with Tatum, then moved on to Sidney. “Just don’t scare her yet, okay?” Even though he was the mastermind of his own plan, he didn’t want Stu—or you—to mess things up. And he definitely didn’t want you to know they were the Ghostface. 

In a way, you kind of messed up their whole plan. Stu was doing everything he could to keep Tatum distracted and maintain Sidney’s obliviousness, as planned. Until you were completely out of his sight. Right after Randy had told you to go check up on Tatum. ‘The beers won’t be coming on their own’, he had said to you with a cocky grin. It wasn’t until you arrived at the garage yourself, hearing some muffled sounds, that you couldn’t help but smirk. With a party full of alcohol, girls, and boys, you didn’t think much of it. That is, until you heard the door swing open and came face to face with Mr. Ghostface, himself.

Billy's knife almost slipped from his hands as he saw you this close to him. Stu had just enough time to catch you, blinking twice to make sure he wasn't imagining things—Billy, and you. You, on the other hand, had a look on your face they both expected to see. "Y/N—" Stu’s voice was cut off by Billy’s stare from beneath his mask. You stood still, but the second you heard Stu’s voice, you wanted to run to him, hoping he would save you from this killer everyone was talking about. But then Billy’s grip tightened, catching you right into his trap.

“No, no, no…” Stu purrs, his sickening chuckle filling the air as he approaches you. Now in the middle, Billy had no pleasure of covering for himself. Because he knew you’d be on their side, meaning you’d do anything possible to avoid getting caught. Starting off with a proposition. “The game, only just started love,” Billy’s voice, unmistakably familiar, came from beneath his mask as he spoke and gently removed it. His face was covered in sweat, his eyes darkening as he glanced down at you. With a slight chuckle, he said, “Love the skirt,” as the knife gently touched the fabric. You could feel Stu’s breath on the crook of your neck. Just like at school, but now away from prying eyes.

You managed to exhale a few whimpers as Stu’s tongue traveled down your neck. Billy watched for a moment, sensing you had something on your mind. “Go on, spill it,” he demanded, his voice hoarse and threatening. Your muscles tensed as he gently pinned you against the wall. “Tatum—” you began, but Billy’s fingers traced down your waist and then touched your bottom lip. The tension between Stu’s pants and your skirt was unmistakable, the obvious bulge appearing beneath his pants. The friction among the three of you was undeniable. Your cheeks flushed with a shade of pink, which only made Billy enjoy it more. “I think she’s enjoying it,” Billy remarked, clearly trying to change the subject. Stu agreed, purring, “Oh, she does.” 

"Boys, boys..." Your voice sounded so vulnerable to their ears that it took them by surprise. Initially, they thought you were afraid of discovering their true identities as Ghostface. However, as you spoke, it became clear that you didn't mind at all. In fact, you might have found Billy in the costume, with a slight droplet of blood on his cheek, somewhat attractive. Stu couldn't help but comment, "Princess doesn't seem to mind?" His remark, tinged with a mix of offense and confession, revealed his surprise at your attraction. Billy's eyes widened slightly, reflecting both shock and amusement as he watched you eyeing him up and down. "Oh, I bet she doesn't, does she?" 

You hummed quietly, drawing chuckles from both men. Billy's knife glided gently down your body, stopping at your skirt to reveal a hint of your red underwear. "Loving the red on you," he remarked with his trademark smirk. Stu, unable to resist, let his fingers travel under your skirt to grip your rear. "How about we treat our princess the way she deserves?" he suggested, his tongue now exploring the crook of your neck, nuzzling and licking every inch until your soft whimpers filled the room. The sounds of your pleasure spurred them on, making them crave more. "Stu..." you murmured his name, and Billy, watching with slight hesitation, hushed you with a gentle touch to your bottom lip before leaning in to kiss you hungrily. 

"What?" Stu's obvious teasing wasn't enough. Billy soon caught your lips in a kiss, one he didn't want to end. He wanted more, more than just your lips, resisting was difficult, especially after seeing you with another boy at the party. "More..." you whispered through the kiss, and Billy, catching only a fragment of your plea, paused midway, leaving you breathless and wanting. Your face was flushed with lust, your eyes begging for more. Before you could voice your protest, Billy scooped you into his arms, gripping your arse, his fingers digging into your flesh. Stu's chuckle echoed as he followed you both to the nearest bedroom.

"What?" Stu's obvious teasing wasn’t enough to satisfy him. Billy soon caught your lips in a kiss, one he didn’t want to end. He wanted more—more than just your lips. Resisting was difficult, especially after seeing you with another boy at the party. "More..." you whispered through the kiss. Billy, catching only a fragment of your plea, paused midway, leaving you breathless and wanting. Your face was flushed with lust, your eyes begging for more. Before you could voice your protest, Billy scooped you into his arms, gripping your rear with his fingers digging into your flesh. Stu's chuckle echoed as he followed you both to the nearest bedroom.

Billy’s fingers then traveled around your inner thighs, his thumb gently brushing on your clit. Which he couldn’t stop admire. “Look how tiny it is,” he pouts with a mockery, licking his bottom lip with the resisting urge not to devour you on the spot, which he does completely the contrary. Leaning in to eat you out, his fingers now gripping on your arse, as you moans his name out. His lips curving into a smirk the you felt his tongue gently brushing your clit. “I think she likes it, Billy…” 

Stu's voice echoed in your mind as he settled beside you, his large fingers trailing down your body. He leaned in, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck, his tongue tracing your skin, coaxing more moans from you. "Come on, doll. Don't be afraid... Tell me. Tell me how you like it."

"I like it..." you paused momentarily, caught up by another whimper, your back arching as Billy's tongue thrust inside your vagina. "I like it a lot!" you then exclaimed in a high-pitched voice just before Stu leaned in, cupped your chin, and kissed you hungrily.

Billy growled with a pout, “Randy will have to find someone else,” he said, his eyes filled with hunger. His thumb brushed your clit while his tongue devoured you completely. Your eyes watered, pleading for more.

"You belong to us, princess," Stu said, savoring the sight of your now-exposed breasts. He couldn't resist caressing them, pinching your nipples to hear your cute moans. Billy nodded in agreement, both of them murmuring, 

"Our princess."

[riddlesb1tch]

Loved You First

Azriel x reader

summary: reader and Azriel are in love with each other but too afraid to admit it. What happens when reader gets asked out on a date and is seemingly very interested in the guy?

Loosely inspired by "Loved You First" by One Direction

warnings: this is so fluffy its borderline cheesy. Actually no, it is cheesy. Enjoy the cheese my loves!

a/n: the results from the poll are in!!! and Azriel very obviously won lol so here is a fic that has been in my drafts for like a year and I haven't had the motivation to finish.

Had my chances,

Could've been where he is standing

That's what hurts the most, 

Girl I came so close,

But now you’ll never know, 

Baby, I loved you first 

Ever since you joined the IC a decade ago, you and the spymaster have been close. Rhysand had walked into a coffee shop one day where he found you, sipping on your coffee while lost in a book on the history of Prythian. Rhys had taken a liking to you after a lengthy conversation about the inaccuracies both of you had spotted. He invited you to dinner with the inner circle where you met the infamous Shadowsinger. 

The first time you met, a hum or two of acknowledgement is all you got from him. You felt like he hated you after that first meeting but the rest of the IC had taken a liking to you which led to you being invited to many more dinners. Eventually, he started speaking to you like you weren’t his enemy but was still closed off, keeping the conversation about you and providing as little information about himself as possible. Initially, you weren’t too fond of the spymaster due to his closed-off nature and the vibe you got that he didn't particularly enjoy your company, but everyone in the IC spoke fondly of him and he wouldn’t have been friends with all the kind people in the inner circle if he wasn’t nice himself. Then, you realized soon that he had built up many walls around his heart to prevent himself from getting hurt.  So, you decided to give him a fair chance and struck up a conversation at one of the dinners about a book both of you had read called ‘The Name of the Rose’. It was a safe territory that got him to be surprisingly chatty with you. Suddenly, his whole demeanour changed. He turned his body towards you, asking you questions about your theories while you were reading, proposing his own. The moment you saw his eyes light up when you two agreed on who the culprit should have been, you knew this male was the most precious being you had met.

Since that dinner, you and Azriel were like two peas in a pod, always together, relentlessly teasing each other, chatting amongst yourselves which led to infinite inside jokes. During the inner circle dinners when everyone would be talking about their weeks, random gossip from here and there, and sharing stories, you and Azriel would be sitting together, commenting on the conversations happening around you in the other’s ear and laughing to yourselves. 

Rhysand often said you two were like little kids. 

Both of you often got teased by the other's name by the rest of the IC. According to them, you two should have started dating the moment you met. Feyre even said you two reminded her a bit of Cassian and Nesta with the way you disliked each other during your first few meetings but quickly became inseparable. 

And in a way, they weren’t wrong. 

When your chemistry was that good, you couldn’t help but fall for the spymaster. He was always there for you when you needed him, and you were the first person he let himself be truly vulnerable with, always coming to you after a mission gone wrong. You saw a side of him that no one had seen before: the childish, playful side that took every opportunity to make you laugh, to snatch up the last piece of cake or candy, a side that played pranks on you, a side that loved to laugh wholeheartedly. It was his genuine smile, the boisterous laughter that you loved the most, and did everything in your power to hear it as often as you could. 

The only problem that seemed to be standing in the way of you confessing was that he didn’t seem interested in you. Little things he would do made you think he viewed you as nothing but a friend, such as ruffling your hair, his incessant teasing about how no one would want to date you, and the fact that he never said anything to you about it. You knew the spymaster wasn’t exactly a talking about his feelings kind of person, but then he wasn’t afraid to confess kind of person either, which left you confused and sad that he didn’t reciprocate your love. 

Recently, at a coffee shop, you had been asked out by a fine gentleman who had struck up a conversation with you. He complimented your features, telling you how he loved your hair, and soon, asked you on a date. 

Since the thing with Azriel was never going to happen, you didn't see a reason to turn down the very handsome male who was interested in you. 

“Awesome! There's this restaurant near the rainbow ‘Velarian’, ever heard of it?” he asked. 

You nodded with a shy smile. 

“Perfect! I will pick you up tomorrow at 7 pm, milady.” He gallantly bowed, taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles, making you blush. 

“Will do,” you replied. 

The male left after getting his coffee, throwing a wink your way before taking his exit. 

“Y/n, what’s taking you so long?” Azriel stalked into the shop, seeing you standing there staring at the door and smiling like an idiot. A smile of amusement took over his features. 

“What are you smiling about?” he asked. 

“I just got asked on a date!” you replied cheerfully, snapping out of your daze and clapping your hands together. 

His whole world went silent. It had finally happened, the moment he had been dreading: someone was going to come in and take you away from him and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it because he was too afraid to tell you how he felt. And how could he when you seemed so excited at the prospect of getting asked out? He mentally chastised himself for not going inside with you so he could chase away the male as he’d done countless times before. He could not stand the idea of you dating someone else so he did something he shouldn’t have and threatened any male enamoured by your presence from getting close to you. But when you had that smile on your face when you looked more excited than you had in a while, how could Azriel ruin that by telling you the truth about his feelings? 

So, he conjured that playful lilt back into his voice despite his heart rejecting the playfulness and furrowed his brows. “Hold on, someone actually wants to date you? Like without getting paid for it?” he said in a surprised tone. 

You punched his shoulder hard, making Azriel laugh out loud. 

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” you said with a frown. 

Azriel nodded. “You’ve told me a few times,” he stated. 

“And yet you can't seem to understand it.”  

Understandably so, Mor was very excited when you told her you got asked out on a date and you both set to figuring out your hair, makeup, and outfit for the night. 

“So what's his name?” Mor asked while she put up your hair in different ways, trying to figure out what looked good. 

You blushed slightly, looking at Mor in the mirror. “His name is Damien,” you said in an almost whisper. 

It killed Azriel that this other was able to make you blush like that when it was his right to bring that colour to your cheeks. 

“Oh my, look at the blush!” Mor teased. “I don’t even think I need to put any blush on you if this is how pink you get from just his name!” 

Mor laughed out loud and you hid your face in your hands in embarrassment. 

“Mor, stop,” you chastised, and both of you erupted in giggles.

Azriel watched as the two of you chattered excitedly, wanting to but not having the guts to ask you to not go on the date. So he did the only thing he could and watched you go on a date with a male you met in the coffee shop. 

You looked stunning in a little black dress with spaghetti straps and a wide neck, displaying the beautiful necklace you wore with a reflection of the Velaris night sky captured into a little globe. Your hair was hanging in loose waves down your back and framing your beautiful features, and a beautiful diamond bracelet adorning your wrist that matched the sparkle of the necklace perfectly. Your eyes were lined with kohl and shining bright with excitement as Azriel took you, his heart breaking the brighter your smile got. 

“Wow, Y/n, who knew you could look like a female,” Azriel teased, making you roll your eyes and slightly chuckle. He smiled, moving closer to you with his hands in his pockets. “Good luck on your date, n/n. Have fun.” He moved his hand to ruffle your hair but you ducked, stopping him mid-movement. 

“Please don’t, I spent hours on this hair and I can’t have anything ruin it,” you grimaced. 

“Of course, my bad,” Azriel replied, stepping away from you. 

A gentle rapping sounded on the door and you turned to your friends one last time for a check. They shot you thumbs up before you opened the door and greeted the very attractive male. 

“Ready to go?” Azriel heard his rich, deep voice, feeling a pang of jealousy shoot through his chest. 

You smiled, stepping down carefully and closing the door behind you.

You didn't return till the next morning, hair messed up, heels in your hands, and his scent all over you. 

“So I guess the date went well?” Mor smirked, sipping her coffee as she eyed you walking in. 

You smiled sheepishly before slipping off to your room for a bath and some much-needed rest. 

The next few days, Azriel had been extra broody and everyone was confused about why. He wouldn't talk to even you and mostly kept to himself. 

“Y/n, I think you need to talk to Az,” Cassian said while leaning against the kitchen counter. 

“Why?” you asked with your brows furrowed, continuing to butter the bread. 

“He's been…moody these past few days. Like more so than usual, and it's worrying all of us. He won't talk to us, barely looks us in the eye, and he’s been training non-stop. I don't think the training dummies can take much more of this,” he joked, trying to lighten the atmosphere but you could hear the worry in his voice. 

You huffed in amusement before turning to Cassian and nodding. “I will speak to him today. Thank you for telling me.” 

You made another sandwich for Azriel and plated both of them before heading up to his room. The room was shrouded in darkness meaning the Shadowsinger was upset about something, and that concerned you because he didn't come to you this time about whatever was bothering him. 

“Az?” you called out into the darkness. When you didn't get a response, you slowly tracked your way to the bed, estimating from memory how far it would be and avoiding obstacles on the way. 

You set the plates of food down on the bed when you found it, feeling around for Azriel whom you felt sitting with his legs outstretched, leaning against the headboard. Your hand came in contact with his shoulder first and you rested your palm there gently, stroking it soothingly. 

“You okay, Az?” you asked. 

A grunt of acknowledgement was the only response you got. 

“Hey, what's wrong?” you asked, carefully sitting down on the bed next to his legs. “Talk to me.” You took his hands in yours, squeezing to tell him you were there for him. Slowly, the shadows receded from around the room, once again cloaking the room with light and letting you get a view of the spymaster. 

Azriel looked horrible with tired bags and messy hair. His eyes were red as if he had been crying and his shoulders slumped from exhaustion. You reached a hand up to gently stroke his cheek. His eyes lifted to yours and you could see the pain in them. Your heart broke to see him like this and wanted to do everything in your power to take the pain away. 

“What's wrong, Azzy?” you asked softly. 

He opened his mouth to tell you but stopped himself and shook his head. “I can’t tell you.” 

You slightly laughed at that. “Come on, Az, we’re not kids. You can tell me and we can have a mature, adult conversation about it.”

Azriel sighed, dropping your hands and getting up from the bed. 

“You won’t understand, Y/n,” he said and you heard agitation in his voice. 

You turned to where he was standing, your feet firmly planted on the ground and hands fisting the bedsheets at your sides. 

“Then make me understand, Az,” you said softly. “Something has got to be very wrong because you haven’t spoken to me in days, you haven’t spoken to the rest of the family, you’re training yourself to death, barely eating, barely sleeping. I mean, is all that worth it when you can talk to me and we can work it out?” you questioned. 

“It's worth it if it means you’re happy,” Azriel said so softly you barely heard it. 

“You’re miserable, Az,” you said, getting up from the bed and walking up to him. You reached for his hands, giving them a firm squeeze. “I can never be happy knowing something is bothering you. Please tell me.” 

Azriel looked at your concerned face, at your hands holding his, and the feeling of rightness in his chest. Maybe it was reckless, maybe he’d been building up to this moment for a long time, but his chest physically hurt from holding onto what he desperately wanted to say. 

“I love you,” he blurted. 

Your face went slack and his heart stopped. 

“W-what?” you gaped. 

Your grip on his hands loosened, eyes looking up at him in utter disbelief. 

But Azriel was not going to take that back. He’d said it and it felt fucking incredible to be able to admit it. 

“I love you,” he repeated. 

“Really?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“I’ve been in love with you since we talked about ‘The Name of the Rose’,” he admitted. “And it's not right that you’re with whats-his-name now because, Y/n, I loved you first. I have always loved you and I cannot hold it in any longer.” 

Tears collected in your eyes from his monologue. 

“I love you too, Az,” you said. 

It was like he could breathe again. Hearing you say those words to him was the utmost bliss he had ever experienced and Azriel did not want this moment to end. He now stood as stunned as you had been when he’d said that to you. 

“R-really?” he stuttered out. 

You laughed, grip tightening on his hands once again. Nodding, you replied, “Ever since the day you let me hear your laugh and see your smile I’ve been in love, Az,” you admitted. 

Not wasting any more time, Azriel smashed his lips on yours, pulling you closer by the waist. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him down, running your fingers through his hair. 

You both pulled away, panting but grinning all the same. Azriel rested his forehead on yours and took a moment to just breathe you in. Then, he pulled away and asked, “What about whats-his-name?” 

“Oh, the date went horrible. I hated him. Literally one of the most pretentious and presumptuous males I’ve ever met. At the end of the night he asked when our second date was and I said ‘Never. And just in this universe. There is not a single parallel and/or alternate universe where I would consent to see your face again’, then left,” you stated proudly.

Azriel laughed out loud at this. 

“Damn, my little heartbreaker,” he said and kissed you again. “Wait then why did you come home the next morning with hair all messy and heels in your hands?” he asked. 

“Oh after the date, I saw one of my friends coming out of the restaurant and I hadn’t seen her in a while so we spent the entire night walking and talking along the Sidra,” you chuckled. 

Azriel gaped at you. 

“You mean to tell me that I brooded for nothing?” he exclaimed. 

You pursed your lips and nodded. “Yeah. take this as a sign to work on your communication skills.” 

Azriel laughed, making you laugh along with him before he pulled you into another kiss. 

From behind you, you heard a loud whistle then cheering followed. Your entire family stood in the doorway of Azriel’s room, watching the two of you in each other’s arms. 

“Finally!” Mor clapped her hands together. 

“Both of you were insufferable moping about each other,” Cassian said and both of you held up the finger for him. 

Everyone laughed at that and you and Azriel hugged tightly.

tags: @thelov3lybookworm @sarawritestories @berryzxx @milswrites @lilah-asteria

Masterlist

[taylorman2274]

We Care About You (Part V)

You are forcibly summoned to Teyvat via dream trawling for answers. A long awaited discussion ensues...

Content Warning(s): Xiao Story Quest Spoilers

Notes: SAGAU; GN!Reader;

Word Count: 1.4k

Previous || Next

Taglist: @silverstarred; @victoria1676; @angelofdarkness2; @areaderspov; @andromeda-gay; @ash1; @mercy-not-merci; @toodledoodl3; @jellyedkazoo; @namine123; @innuwu; @agaygothicmushroom; @tired-of-life-86; @fantasyhopperhea; @sweetsourbxtch;

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

After you had decided you were no longer going to play Genshin Impact, you felt as if a massive weight was lifted off your shoulders. Had the past few weeks really taken that much out of you?

"I suppose it did," you assumed as you were playing another game with your friend group. "I haven't felt this relieved in a long while."

You and your friend group spent many hours talking, laughing, raging, and sharing memes. When you noticed it was just past midnight, you felt that it was the best time to get some sleep. You bid goodbye to your friends, closed your computer, and went to take a quick shower.

While in the shower, thoughts began to ruminate in your head. "It's gonna be hard for me to find another game that will get me addicted as much as Genshin did. But maybe something in my backlog might work for now."

The thoughts continued after the shower, after brushing your teeth, and after getting in bed. "I almost forget what game I was playing before I started Genshin. Was it something I finished? If not, maybe I should go back to that."

Before long, you fell asleep. However, unbeknownst to you, your computer mysteriously turned itself back on and began to launch a certain application...

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

"Do I need to remind you again how to perform Dream Trawler?" Xiao asked.

"Nuh-uh," Paimon shook her head, setting down a Seven-Star Lamp. "Paimon has a great memory! First, we offer incense with respect for Rex Lapis. Next, we meditate and think of our target. Then, we shout 'Bring Forth Sin'!

"It's 'Devayaksha, Bring Forth Sin'," the Traveler corrected as they were adjusting the position of the censer.

"Right!” Paimon nodded, setting down another Seven-Star Lamp. “Lastly, we let loose a couple of arrows towards the two yaksha statues to... to uh... uhhh...".

"Tsk. Fools."

This conversation was taking place while the Traveler and Paimon were setting everything up for the Dream Trawler ritual. However, instead of going back to the two yaksha statues on the southern face of Mt. Tianheng, Zhongli suggested they perform the ritual at Luhua Pool.

"If my guess is correct, [Y/N] will most likely panic upon realizing where they are. If that's the case, it would be better for them if they weren't so close to the harbor. It's best if we do not attract any attention."

Both the Traveler and Paimon agreed. Neither of them wanted [Y/N] to be afraid. They only wanted to give them the warmest of welcomes.

"Are you two done yet?" Xiao asked, annoyed at how long it was taking to get everything set up.

The Traveler and Paimon walked up to Xiao. "Yep! Everything's set up just like last time."

Xiao nodded. "Good. Get ready to initiate the ritual."

The Traveler and Paimon nodded in return. They put the incense inside of the censer and began to meditate.

"Since we are dealing with someone from another world, I would imagine that a great deal of focus should be needed to summon [Y/N]. This is especially true since we have no idea what they look like. I'm sure Xiao warned you of the consequences this could cause should you not take this seriously.

Zhongli's words echoed in your mind as you put all of your focus towards [Y/N].

"Hmm..."

[Y/N], who has been with them since the beginning.

"Ohh..."

[Y/N], who has done their best to guide them along their journey.

"Ahh... Hmm..."

[Y/N]. [Y/N]. [Y/N]. [Y/N]. [Y/N].

"Devayaksha, Bring Forth Sin!"

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

...

... ...

... … …

It's cold.

You shifted in your sleep and immediately felt the lack of bedsheets surrounding your body.

Instead, you felt... rock? Sand?

Slowly opening your eyes, you were met with the cloudy midnight sky, trees with orangish-red leaves, and tall, rocky mountain peaks.

"...Wait. ...Why am I outdoors?"

Your eyes slowly began to adjust to the moonlight.

"...And why does this look so familiar?"

You brought your hand to the ground to begin pushing yourself up, but stopped moving once you noticed the light blue glow surrounding it.

"What the hell?!"

Shocking the exhaustion from your body, you quickly rose up from the floor, nearly losing balance as you stood due to how light you suddenly felt. You looked around the rest of your body and found that you were completely surrounded by the light blue glow.

"This has to be a dream... This has to be..."

"My job is done. I'm leaving now."

Startled, you quickly turned around to find three familiar persons standing a couple of yards away from you.

"Huh? Why don't you wanna stay?" A floating pixie asked.

"...Paimon?"

A short, tattooed man with azure hair scoffed in response. "I don't deal with mortals."

"...Xiao?"

You let out a crazed chuckle. "I've got to be dreaming."

Paimon, oblivious to your decreasing sanity, shook her head. "Nope! We summoned you here via dream trawling. Isn't that great?!"

You were silent for a few seconds before you responded. "Dream... trawling...?"

Sensing that you were still confused, Xiao sighed in annoyance. "You are [Y/N], right?"

Hearing the sound of your name shook some sense into you, but you still involuntarily nodded.

"Good. When you're ready to send them back, speak my name." Xiao told the Traveler before disappearing.

However, seeing Xiao disappear right in front of your eyes shook you even further. "Woah...! That looked way too realistic."

The Traveler let out a small cough to grab your attention. "If you wouldn't mind, [Y/N]. We summoned you here because we've been wanting to talk to you for some time now. Please, grab a seat."

They gestured toward a stone table that was definitely not there the last time you visited. They then sat down on the stone seat facing you. When they looked up, they realized that you hadn't even moved as much as an inch. Additionally, you stared straight at them, yet still appeared lost in thought. Sensing that you may still be bewildered about your current situation, they spoke up.

"You don't need to worry about anything, [Y/N]. There is nothing around here that will hurt you," they gestured to the seat again. "Please."

Had they been unable to see your chest moving in and out, both Paimon and the Traveler would have thought you to be a statue.

"This is a dream. This is real. This is a dream. This is real. This is a dream. This is real..."

Paimon shared a worryingly glance at the Traveler before floating on over to you. You were too oblivious to your surroundings to notice her approaching, but when she finally reached out a hand to tap your shoulder, you flinched back. Hard.

"Wahh! Sorry! Paimon's sorry!" Paimon quickly apologized.

Meanwhile, your brain was working in overdrive to assess the situation. "I felt her! I felt her! I'm not dreaming! I'm not dreaming! This is real! This is real! THIS IS REAL!"

"Paimon get back," the Traveler commanded, standing up from their seat. "They're in shock."

"In shock!? What do we do about that?" Paimon questioned.

The Traveler didn't respond, instead, they slowly began to walk towards you.

Becoming more aware of your surroundings, you noticed the Traveler approaching and slowly began to back up, raising your arms in front of your body. "No no no no. Don't come any closer."

However, the Traveler continued to walk forward one step at a time. They raised their hands up in the air. "It's okay, [Y/N]. It's okay."

You shook your head. "No, it's not okay," you rapidly spoke, breathing loudly. "I'm not supposed to be here."

"Yes, you are. We summoned you here."

You backed up into a broken stone pillar. "Why?" you asked, looking behind you for a quick second. "What did I do?"

They stopped in place before a sorrowful gaze appeared on the Traveler's face. "You’ve done nothing wrong."

Silence hung in the air for an agonizingly long time. Finally, you spoke:

"...Nothing?"

The Traveler nodded. "That’s right. We just want to talk."

You slowly lowered your arms. "About... what?"

Both the Traveler and Paimon smiled. "About our future journey together."

Confusion set upon you once again. "What? But I… I said I was done."

The Traveler sadly shook their head. "We know, but we can't let you leave. Not after all you have done for us."

Paimon chirped in. "Exactly! You're our friend after all!"

Your breathing stopped upon hearing Paimon. After all that effort you put into making amends with them. After believing that it was all for naught.

"You... you see me... as a friend?"

The Traveler nodded, their smile growing bigger. "We do."

Silence fell upon the three of you once again. This time, it was the Traveler who broke it.

"I think it's time we all grab a seat. Shall we?"

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

Author's Notes: I was originally going to make this longer, but I once again struggled at trying to write this scene out. It's hard trying to figure out how people should believably react to this scenario.

Because it's never happened before, duh.

Anyways, the next part will be the end of this series. Stick around for the ending!

[sinner-as-saint]

you're no good for me.

Bucky x Reader AU

Run-through: After leaving a well-paying job you hated, you took the money you had saved and decided to roam around Europe: Paris, Monaco, Italy, Greece, trying to find a new purpose in life. That’s when you meet this drop dead gorgeous older man named Bucky. He’s respectful, funny, kind, flirty, and has a nice yacht. Honestly, he’s all you need at the moment. And together, the two of you embark on a journey that has potential to last a lifetime. 

Themes: age gap (reader is in her twenties), fluff, sugar daddy!bucky (basically), smut, praise kink, nicknames: princess, baby girl, daddy kink, soft!dom!bucky, HEA. 

a/n: inspired by this ask. Thank you @aquariusbarnes

“I guess I never realised solo travelling could get so… lonely, you know?” 

You said quietly to your best friend on the phone while you browsed through second-hand books in a small, cosy little bookstore you found while staying in Italy for the week. 

“Don’t get me wrong,” You chuckled, “I desperately needed this and I needed to get out of the city but, this is not doing what it should. All I do is eat, sleep, shop, and I have no one to talk to. I guess I can’t even make new friends anymore.” 

Your friend sighed, “Of course you can! You should meet new people. Go to a bar, wear something nice, and talk to some guy. Seriously, get some!” 

You laughed quietly. “I’m tired of the bar or club thing. That’s what we usually do in the city.” You groaned. “I need something new, and exciting, and-,” 

A deep voice spoke from somewhere behind you. “Excuse me, miss.” 

You turned around and had to blink a few times to register the sight in front of you. A god of a man. Tall. Well dressed in loose pants, white tank top and a delicious light blue shirt left open to show off his muscular chest. He had longish hair, tied neatly in a low bun. Pretty face, ocean blue eyes. Sharp jaw. And a slight smirk on his pink lips.

He looked older, maybe in his early forties? He radiated elegant masculinity. Very much old money. He looked like he belonged in some fashion show, or the cover of a magazine. 

“Uh, I’ll call you in a bit.” You quickly ended the call and gave the man your full attention. “Hello.” You said softly, sounding a little confused as to why would a man like that even stop and talk to anyone. 

The man gave you a stunning smile. “I noticed you dropped this.” He held out his hand and there was your tiny purse, in the palm of his large, veiny hands. 

“Oh.” You sounded a little embarrassed as you quickly took it from him. “Thank you.” You said, looking up and meeting his dangerously enticing stare. 

“Wow,” He said, with a little nervous chuckle. “You’re beautiful.” You froze at that and then he quickly added, “I’m sorry if that was too forward. It’s just… you really are beautiful.” He sounded so sincere, and you hadn’t had a proper conversation with anyone in weeks so you didn’t know how to act. 

“Oh, um,” You let out a nervous chuckle too as you looked down at your shoes, embarrassed. “Thank you.” Then you added as a nervous ramble, “I think you’re really beautiful too.” 

He smiled, then let out a little laugh which made your skin tingle in the best ways. He raised a perfect eyebrow and asked in his silky smooth, deep voice, “Then how about us beautiful people go get a drink and get to know each other a little better?” 

You actually felt your face get really hot as you laughed, “So this is the part where I’ll wake up tomorrow and find out you took my kidney?” 

He chuckled. “No, no kidneys will be taken, I promise.” Then he gave you a pretty smile, “Just one drink. You’re too beautiful for me not to steal an hour or two from your day. Else, I’m gonna regret it my whole life.” 

“I see you get your way in and out of everything by being a smooth flirt, huh?” 

You gave in. And said yes to having a drink with him. 

— 

One drink turned into a late lunch, then afternoon tea, then an early dinner. The conversation flowed so easily it surprised you. He told you mostly everything about him. You noted that his name was Bucky, he was in his forties, no immediate family as they had all unfortunately passed, he was a bachelor, a businessman, currently taking some months off work to travel and sail across Europe on his yacht. 

While on a quick bathroom break, you googled him just to confirm and sure enough, he wasn’t lying. Also, the guy was much more wealthy than he let on. But you liked that. You hated men who bragged constantly. 

When it was your turn to give him your back story, you were just as transparent as he was. You mentioned where you were from, how you moved to the city after uni once you found a decent job. You mentioned how although the job paid really well, you quickly realised that being a PA isn’t as glamorous as in the movies or books, but in fact so stressful and anxiety-ridden. So you quickly began hating your job and life. Hence the resignation letter and the sudden tickets to Europe. 

“So, you’re here all alone? That’s brave I think.” He said, after you were done narrating your story. 

You scoffed before taking a sip of coffee, “No, it's quite the opposite.” You argued, defeatedly. “I couldn’t handle it and I just got up and left. I quite literally packed my stuff and ran away from the city. And now I’m just roaming around, trying to see if I can find a new purpose, I suppose. That’s the opposite of brave. If I were brave I’d face it properly. Like an adult.” Your shoulders drooped down a little. 

“Hey,” He said softly. Then reached for your hand and held it in between both of his warm palms. 

This was the first time in the past hours where he touched you. He’d been so respectful so far, not once getting too close. But right now, as he held your hand lovingly and as his thumb gently caressed your knuckles, you realised you loved having your hand held by him. 

“That’s not true at all.” He said. “You were strong enough to walk away from a situation you no longer wanted to be in, do you realise how brave that is?” 

His voice was so understanding and soft, you immediately melted. 

He continued, “I mean, you’re braver than me when I was twenty something.” He chuckled at the memory, “My father had just passed, and I was suddenly responsible for the family businesses. And…” He sighed, “How I wish I could’ve packed a suitcase and travel at that age, but I couldn’t. I was so lost at that time too.” 

You watched him as he spoke. The intelligence and experience in his eyes. The crinkles by his pretty eyes as he smiled at something he remembered from the past. The sad smile when he mentioned his now dead family. He seemed older and wiser than his age. 

“What I’m trying to say here is that you’re so young. This is your time to be selfish with your years. You don’t like a job? Leave it, find another. You don’t want to be in the city? Leave that too, travel the world. Of course, you must have some sort of makeshift plan of where you might want to be in the next five or ten years, but for the most part, live for right now.” He gave you an enchanting smile. “So tell me, where do you want to be right now?” 

The sky began to turn darker. The golden lights from the restaurant made his eyes look magical. Deep blue, and shining like jewels. The chain around his neck caught the light and suddenly you wanted nothing more than to yank on it with your teeth… 

Woah. Where did that come from? 

“Just… away. For everything.” You answered, truthfully. Wasn’t that what you were looking for? An escape? Something new and exciting. And right now with your hand in Bucky’s warm ones, this felt new and exciting. And you selfishly wanted it. You wanted this. 

“Come with me. Just for tonight. We won’t sail too far from the docks, I promise.” He said, holding your hand firmly in his. “I’ll bring you back tomorrow morning. Kidney and all still in place.” He teased. 

You laughed. And said yes because fuck it. 

—

Bucky walked with you till your hotel, and waited downstairs in the lobby while you got your things for the night. Once you met him back downstairs, he offered to carry your backpack while the two of you walked towards the docks. 

Once you reached his yacht, you had to refrain from dropping your jaw. “Oh, she’s pretty.” You whispered as he held your hand and helped you onto it. 

He smiled and said, “She’s my favourite.” Because of course he owned other luxury yachts. 

The more steps you took inside the boat, the more mesmerised you got. He had a full staff even. Bucky gave you a quick tour, showed you the bar, the hot tubs, the main deck, and all. Then led you to a spacious bedroom. 

“Get settled,” He said, “I’m just gonna get us out a bit further into the water.” He traced a gentle finger down your cheek and you found yourself nodding immediately. Then he paused, and said, “If you don’t wanna be down here alone, come find me at the helm. Okay, babygirl?” 

You froze for just a fraction of a moment, then quickly smiled and nodded again. Bucky left with a wink and once the door closed behind him, you let out a loud sigh. Fuck, he was so dreamy. 

Once he left and you explored the room a little bit, you realised you didn’t in fact want to be here all alone. So as the boat moved smoothly, you took a quick shower, got changed into your swimsuit, with a flowy beach cover up and went to find Bucky. 

Finding the helm was easy. On your way there, you saw two staff members and they both smiled at you. For a moment you wondered if they were thinking of you as just another young girl on a rich man’s boat. Oh well, whatever. 

You found Bucky standing in the middle of the area, facing multiple screens and the helm itself and so many buttons and switches it made your brain hurt. 

“Hello captain.” You said, stepping closer to him. The sun was setting now, and it was all orange and pink, quickly becoming dark blue. 

Bucky gave you a bright smile, “Hello you.” He grabbed your hand and placed it on the helm, “Here,” He came up and stood right behind you, both of you steering the boat, “There you go, keep it straight. Just like that, see?” 

You laughed, while your heart raced both at the excitement of manoeuvring such a giant boat, but also because of how close Bucky was. Your back was right against his chest, but he was still keeping a good inch or two between your bodies. 

“Alright,” He said after a while, “We’ll stop here for tonight. Come, the stars look great from the deck.” 

He held your hand and led you out onto the spotlessly clean, spacious main deck. There was a circular fireplace in the middle, surrounded by sofas and a large hot tub in the corner. And the view… oh the view was to die for. The moment Bucky let go of your hand, you rushed to look over the handrail. The water reflected the colours of the sunset, and the sky. The stars began twinkling, the more you looked the more of them you found. The light summer breeze was just cool enough. 

“It’s so beautiful out here.” You whispered, looking over at the shore, where more and more lights were turning on. You could see the place at which you’d just had dinner. You could also see the bookstore if you squinted. Just then, you felt a warmth press up against you. 

You smiled as Bucky wrapped his arms around you from behind, placing his chin on your shoulder and holding you close. “Just like you, baby girl.” He whispered into your ear. 

You froze again, a familiar warmth washing over you at the nickname. A tingling sensation between your things which made you want to clench them together. Bucky must've felt the way you tensed up because he pulled away immediately. 

“I didn’t mean to make you-,” 

You cut him off quickly as you turned to face him, “Oh no, no. I don’t mind that.” You laughed, now a little shy. “It’s just that,” You couldn’t look at his pretty face as you admitted, “you make me a little nervous.” 

He laughed at that, and wrapped his arms around you once again. “Do I?” He teased. 

You hid your face by shoving it into the crook of his neck, which made him laugh even more. You couldn’t help but breathe in his scent. Fuck, it had been messing with you the whole day almost. He smelt like sin. Like pure, dangerous sin. But then he had that sweet, bright smile. And the contrast was making you dizzy. 

“Don’t hide from me, baby.” He held the back of your neck gently as he pulled your face back so he could look at you. 

You almost kissed him right there and then. He looked so good in this golden sunset. But you didn’t want to seem too desperate so you-

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, cutting off whatever you’d been thinking about. “I’ve been wanting to do that all day.” He admitted, with a handsome smirk. “So, can I? Please?” He gave you the softest puppy dog look ever. And you melted. 

You nodded once and the next thing you knew, he pushed you against the handrail and kissed you deeply. Lips soft against your own, his tongue stroking yours in a way that made you want to ride him until the sun came up the next morning. His hand remained at your waist, the other holding your head gently as he kissed you even deeper. 

“Fuck,” He groaned against your lips. “Does all of you tastes just as sweet as your mouth, babygirl?” He chuckled when you whined and squirmed. “I can’t wait to find out.” He whispered before kissing you again. 

Your brain was all foggy with desire. Your body warm and tingly under his touch. His mouth left yours and he kissed down your chin, and all over your neck and collarbones before kissing your lips again. “Bucky,” You gasped into the kiss when you felt his hand moving downward, towards your inner thighs. 

“Too much, baby?” He asked, pulling away to look down into your eager eyes. “Are we moving too fast?” 

You smiled up at him, “No. This is okay.” You grabbed his wrist and moved his hand even closer to where you desperately needed him. The thin swimsuit was all that separated his hand from the wetness accumulating at your core. 

He held your stare as he moved the fabric to the side and carefully touched your throbbing clit. You squirmed, grinding against his fingers slowly. He chuckled, “Oh?” He smeared your wetness around a little more, “All that for me? Hmm?” He leaned in and kissed the corner of your mouth while his fingers moved up and down your wet slit. “Have you been this wet the whole time we were together?” 

You couldn’t help but whisper a quiet, “Yes…” 

He smirked, kissing your skin. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? So unfair of you to keep this from me, babygirl.” He carefully slid a finger inside you, moving it in and out of you so slowly you couldn’t help but moan. “I would’ve taken care of you much sooner had I known you were dripping wet for me this whole time.” 

You whined again at the sound of his shameless words. “Please…” You begged. 

Bucky pulled away to look right into your eyes as he slid another finger inside you, moving both of them in and out of you while his thumb toyed with your clit. “Please what, baby?” 

You squirmed, holding onto him for dear life while moving your hips in time with his fingers. “Please,” You begged again. 

He smirked, “Use your words, princess.” He cooed. “Come on, tell daddy what you want and he’ll give it to you, baby.” 

You bit your lip to keep yourself from moaning too loud, afraid the staff might hear what a dirty young woman you were being. “I want to come, please.” You whispered, face burning at the lust in your voice. 

Bucky smiled in triumph. “There, wasn’t that easy?” He kissed your lips again, “Of course you can come, babygirl. You’ve been so good all day,” He said, “So kind and polite,” He chuckled, “Pretending like you didn’t want to climb into my lap anytime you looked into my eyes.” 

You gasped, both in pleasure as his fingers touched a sensitive spot, but also because he had just read you like a book. 

Bucky smirked. “What? You think I didn’t see it?” He leaned closer, lips brushing against your open mouth as he spoke, “I saw the way you looked at me. Longing and desire in your eyes. You just want to be taken care of. Just want a man to hold you and tell you it’s all gonna be okay and that you’re safe? Hmm?” 

His fingers brought you right to that edge. You were a whimpering mess by then, his words making you even more dizzy. 

“Look at me, baby.” When you did look up at him, he smiled softly down at you, “It’s okay babygirl, you’re with daddy now. You’re safe, and I’m gonna take care of you. Okay? Now, can you be my good girl and come for me? Hmm? Can you do that for daddy, baby?”

You came with a loud whimper, coming undone all over his fingers. Bucky watched you in awe, lips parted as he breathed deeper along with you. 

“That’s a good girl,” He whispered, leaning in for a kiss. “You are so beautiful, babygirl.” 

You kissed him back with even more passion than before, and your hands began exploring his body. His chest, down to his toned stomach, and further down… but then he stopped you by grabbing your wrists. 

“Later, baby. I don’t want to rush.” He said. “I’m gonna take my time with you.” He promised. “Now come on, get in the tub. Don’t want you to get too chilly.” He pointed towards the tub and you began walking towards it. When you turned around you found him walking in the other direction, towards the mini bar. 

You turned back around and headed over to the tub finally. You took the beach cover off and stepped in, nearly squealing with how perfectly hot the water was. Once you took your seat and submerged yourself till your shoulders, you noticed Bucky walked over with champagne flutes and a champagne bottle. 

But not just that. He was also not wearing anything other than tight black boxers which left very little to the imagination. You had to turn your head just so you’d look away from the gorgeousness that was this man in front of you.

But of course, he caught the look. “Don’t look away, babygirl.” He said as he stepped in and sat down next to you, his thigh rubbing against yours, “You can look. I don’t mind.” He smirked, and winked at you before popping open the champagne. 

He handed you a flute filled with bubbles and poured one for himself, set the bottle aside and clinked your flutes together. You each took a sip and you couldn’t help but close your eyes and moan at the taste. Expensive champagne always tasted heavenly.  

When you opened your eyes again you found Bucky looking at you intently. 

You smirked and asked, “What?”

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you onto his lap. You put up no resistance as you settled onto his thighs, an arm around his neck. “Nothing. Just thinking about how you’ll moan with other things in your mouth.” 

You chuckled. “Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” You replied, starting to get a little more playful around him. 

He raised an eyebrow, “Oh?” Then leaned in and kissed your neck, making you giggle and pull away. “You’re ticklish I see.” 

“Please don’t.” You yelped, and laughed as he tickled you even more. Champagne splashed everywhere, but Bucky didn’t seem to mind. “Stop!” You cried out in between uncontrollable giggles. Right as you were about to fall off his lap, he finally stopped. Kissing your face multiple times to make up for the tickle attack. Once you calmed down you said, “You’re mean. I think I wanna get off your boat now.” You teased. 

Bucky tightened his arms around you. “No,” He groaned playfully, “I’m sorry, I’ll make up for it. Right now, I promise.” 

One moment you were on his lap, and the next he was lifting you up and sitting you down on the edge of the tub. The handrail was right behind you to support your back, and you giggled as Bucky knelt in the warm water, right in between your thighs. 

“What if someone sees?” You asked, looking around to see if you’d find some of the staff members around the deck. 

Bucky placed both of his hands on your things and got closer to you. “They won’t.” He assured you. “Now come on, spread those legs for daddy.” He demanded, and you obeyed. 

You leaned back into the handrail and parted your legs. Bucky smirked, grabbing the backs of your knees to pull you closer, lowering himself and leaning in until his mouth was right above your core. 

“Don’t even try to hide your moans from me. You hear me?” He questioned, holding your stare. 

You nodded. 

“Say ‘yes daddy’.” 

You squirmed, pushing your hips closer to his mouth involuntarily. “Yes, daddy…” Your words ended on a gasp as he placed his mouth down and licked along your slit through the fabric of your swimsuit. 

He placed a soft kiss right over your throbbing clit before he finally slid the thin fabric to the side and looked up at you, held your stare as his wet tongue licked down your folds. He moaned loudly as he tasted you. “Knew you’d taste like heaven.” He murmured, going in for more. Eager and impatient to make you come all over his tongue. 

Your hands immediately grabbed the back of his neck, fingers sliding into his hair and gently messing up his neatly tied bun. You giggled at the sight, “I’m sorry I’m messing up your hair.” You whispered, followed by gasps of pleasure as he ate you out relentlessly. 

Bucky pulled away for a moment, looking up at you. “I must be doing terrible if you can still speak coherent sentences, babygirl.” He smirked. “I’m sorry, let me do a better job. Hmm?” 

You opened your mouth to tell him that he was just perfect but you ended up whining loudly instead as he parted your wet lips and pushed his tongue deeper into you. You threw your head back, resting it on the handrail as you moaned shamelessly, occasionally giggling as his fingers all over your thighs made you slightly ticklish. 

His warm tongue stroked you so perfectly, and Bucky growled as you lost control, moving your hips instinctively against his mouth as you chased that feeling of pure bliss. 

You whined loudly, goosebumps all over your body. You felt tingles shooting through you as his tongue teased you incessantly. Your fingers tugged harder on his hair, messing it up even more. 

“That’s better, isn’t it?” He murmured, before moving his mouth upward to suck on your throbbing clit. “You look so pretty like this, baby. All open for me to taste, whining and whimpering…” He playfully bit your inner thigh, “What is it?” He asked as another loud moan escaped your mouth. “Too much? You want to come? You want more? What is it, huh? Tell daddy what you want.” 

You just looked down at him, whimpering as you tugged harder on his hair, trying to get his mouth back on you. Your reaction made Bucky chuckle. 

“No,” He cooed, “Use your words, baby.” 

Damn him. 

“Oh please,” You whined, “I want you. I want your mouth… please daddy,” You cried out, trying to clench or rub your thighs together for some kind of friction but his muscular body being between them stopped you from doing that. 

Seeing your desperation only deepened his smirk, and increased the mischief in his eyes. “Such a good girl,” He murmured, biting down on your inner thigh before gently pushing his tongue inside of you again. You whimpered under his agonisingly soft touch. 

Bucky looked up at you as he teased you with his tongue, the intensity of his gaze making you tremble. The sky was getting darker, the stars shining more and more now. And yet, you couldn’t look away from his ocean blue eyes. 

“You’re all mine, babygirl…” he whispered, thrusting his tongue deeper into you. You moaned and whimpered, your body getting warmer and warmer with each touch of his tongue. “Say it.” He demanded, licking up and down your slit, making you grind on his tongue. “Tell me you’ll be mine. Tell me you’re daddy’s good girl.” 

You cried out, “I’m daddy’s good girl…” You felt your walls tighten around nothing, and you knew you were close. 

Bucky could tell as well. “Then come for daddy, babygirl.” He whispered against your skin before biting down on your inner thigh as you whined under him. 

You could only moan and whimper as he kept licking deeper into you. You felt him quicken his pace and you felt the pressure building up in between your hips until you couldn’t handle it anymore and you came undone all over his lips, moaning and whimpering. Humming in satisfaction, Bucky kissed his way up your body again, until he reached your mouth. Carefully, he pulled back into the tub and on his lap as he kissed you deeply. 

The warm water felt heavenly, but nowhere near how good his tongue had felt just seconds ago. You sighed in pleasure through the kiss, and you felt him smiling against your lips before he pulled away to look at you. 

“Where have you been all my life?” He asked, looking no less than a god in that tub. The soft lights made his eyes look ethereal. The darkening sky as a background made him look even more godly. 

You smiled at him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you straddled him. “Stuck in a city I don’t like. Doing a job I hated. Surrounded by people I no longer could relate to.” You joked, hiding the painful truth in your words. 

Of course, he caught the sadness in your eyes. “Well, you’re here with me right now. Forget about the city, the job, and the people.” He leaned in and pressed his forehead to yours, he said, “It’s just you and me right now, princess. Just us, and no one else.” 

You smiled, closing your eyes. Warmth from the bubbling water, warmth from his body, the cool breeze, the scent of summer and excitement in the air, it all surrounded you and it couldn’t have been more perfect. 

“More champagne, baby?” He asked, pulling away. 

“No,” You said, giving him a look he knew all too well. “How about we go inside now?” 

Bucky smirked, already moving to grab towels. “Whatever the princess wants.” 

—

You and Bucky made a quick stop in the kitchen found in the lower levels of his yacht, to grab some snacks. You held on to your chocolate fondue and strawberries while he held the other goods. And once you made it to the lovely bedroom, the two of you ended up lounging on the bed, just eating and talking about random stuff. 

“Wait,” You said, swallowing down a mouthful of rich chocolate and strawberry. “You haven’t been in a relationship in over ten years? A whole decade?” You questioned, right after he finished telling you about how he hadn’t. 

Bucky gave you a funny look. “I’m a busy man, babygirl. I didn’t have much time.” 

You frowned, confused. “Well surely you’ve liked someone. Or are you too busy to have a crush and all that?” 

He chuckled, and you along with him. “No, I haven’t. I guess it’s been just work and more work.” 

You sighed and shrugged, reaching for another juicy strawberry, “I can’t even judge you, I haven’t been dating for years either. My last relationship…” You trailed off, “It doesn’t matter, I-,” 

Bucky cut you off by grabbing your arm and pulling you on top of him, making you straddle him again. “No, it matters. Tell me what happened.” His tone was serious, caring, and attentive. 

You sighed again, “Well, it ended badly. We were both too young I suppose, and then he cheated and we were on and off for a while before I ended it a few years ago.” 

Bucky cupped your face, “You deserve so much better than that, baby. You hear me?” 

You nodded, smiling down at him. “Look at me now,” You teased, then finally took a bite out of the strawberry, unintentionally moaning. “Oh fuck…” You whined, “This might be the best thing I’ve ever had in my mouth.” You said. 

Bucky smirked, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer, “You know, I could give you something even better to put in your mouth, princess.” 

You swallowed your fruit and smirked down at him. “Oh?” You played along. “What’s that?” 

He caressed your cheek lovingly, “Want daddy to show you?” You nodded enthusiastically. And he said, “Okay, get on your knees, baby.” 

You shifted from his lap to kneel in between his legs and in the meantime, Bucky was undoing the towel from around his waist. The sight of his erection had you almost begging just so you could have a taste. 

“Do you want to take daddy in your mouth and make him feel good, princess? Hmm?” He gently grabbed your chin so you couldn’t look away from him. “Do you want to make daddy come? Make him feel so good that he fills your mouth with his come, baby?” 

You nodded quickly, “Yes. I do.” You couldn’t calm your racing heart as you watched Bucky lean back into the pillows, making himself comfortable while you knelt in between his muscular thighs, his cock pointing up… looking too good not to wrap your mouth around it. 

“Go on then, baby.” Bucky’s hand slid into your hair as you leaned down and took him into your mouth. 

You moaned, with Bucky’s cock in your mouth, at how good he felt. Warm, thick, veiny. 

“Your mouth feels so good, princess,” Bucky cooed, tugging on your hair gently. You looked up at him and took him even further into your mouth. “There we go,” He gasped, “Careful baby, I don’t wanna hurt you.” 

You whined, that caring tone of his driving you insane. Bucky held your head gently and slowly pushed himself deeper into your mouth. “That’s it, you’re doing so good, babygirl. You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” He said as you took him in until he hit the back of your throat. “Now be a good girl, and make daddy come.” 

You did as he asked, moaning around his cock and using your hand to play with what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. 

“Oh princess, you’re so good to daddy.” 

Bucky’s groans and moans were delightful. His head thrown back, eyes closed, lips parted slightly as he breathed deeply, occasionally grunting or moaning while you worked to make him come. 

“Just like that, babygirl, come on make me come in that pretty mouth.” 

You could feel the wetness starting to leak from you again. Fuck, this was so hot. The sounds he made, the sounds your mouth made, the desire and warmth washing over you… it was all too much. 

You teased his tip with your tongue, alternating between sucking on it and taking him deep in and out of your mouth until Bucky came with a growl, his grip tightening on your hair for just a moment before he went limp. Chuckling as he emptied into your mouth, and watched you swallow all of him. 

“Fuck, baby…” He groaned, “Come here and give me a kiss.” He said once you pulled him out of your mouth and you didn’t hesitate to climb onto his lap again, pressing your mouth against his. 

You moaned into the kiss, slowly grinding down on his thigh trying to alleviate the sweet pain in between your legs. 

“You’ll be the death of me.” He murmured against your lips, then went in for a kiss again before groaning, “Oh babygirl, daddy’s gotta have you now.” Then he flipped the two of you around, hovering above you as he smiled down at you. 

“Is this okay, babygirl?” He asked, caressing your face lovingly. “You still want daddy to make you feel good?” 

You trailed your hands up and down his muscular back, and nodded. “Yes,” You smiled up at him, then the chain dangling from his neck caught your eye. Without thinking, you grabbed it in between your teeth and yanked on it playfully. 

Bucky laughed looking down at you. “Is that what you want? The chain?” With one hand he got it off of him and put it over your head, you pulled it down until it rested on your neck. “There,” Bucky said, leaning down to kiss your neck, “First gift from daddy to his princess.” 

You chuckled, “Why thank you,” You pulled him down for a kiss. He deepened the kiss, his hand drifting down in between your bodies, getting rid of the towel that had been hiding your body from him. 

“You are so beautiful,” He whispered against your mouth as his hand touched you everywhere. “Wait, are you on birth control?” He asked. 

You chuckled, “Yes, don’t worry.” 

“Oh fuck, baby I can’t wait.” He groaned, pulling away to look down at you, “Can I fuck you now? Please? Can daddy make you feel good?” 

Your head spun with how badly you wanted him. Especially given how he shamelessly slid his tip up and down your slit. You nodded immediately, “Yes.” You said, “Yes, please.” 

He leaned in for a kiss again. He kissed your skin from your mouth to your neck as he carefully slid into you, so gently. “Tell me if I hurt you, baby.” He breathed into your ear. “Is this okay?” He asked, looking down at you. His pretty blue eyes so caring and gentle. 

You nodded, “I’m okay.” You whispered, feeling warm all over. 

When he pushed even deeper, your walls welcomed him perfectly and he moaned under his breath as he filled you up entirely, inch by inch. You gasped and moaned as he moved so slowly you almost lost your mind. 

Bucky swore. Your warmth wrapped around him, gripping him so perfectly he couldn’t help but just stay still for a moment and just enjoy the feeling of being inside you. “Babygirl, you feel so perfect for daddy. Look at me,” Once you did, he smiled down at you and said, “That’s it, keep your eyes on me while I fuck you, okay? I need to know I’m not hurting you.” He said. 

That only made you wish he’d fuck you like an animal. You groaned, “You’re not hurting me,” You said, “Please, daddy. Please fuck me harder.” 

He chuckled, “There she is,” He whispered into your ear, “You’re daddy’s dirty little girl, aren’t you?” Bucky laced your fingers together and pinned both your entwined hands above your head as he sped up into you. Fucking you nice and hard, “Does that feel good, baby? Hmm? Does my pretty princess feel good?” 

You nodded, moaning shamelessly, “Yes… more, more please.” You cried out, throwing your head back as he started rocking in and out of you. 

He leaned in and kissed your lips again, “I said eyes on me, baby.” He groaned, panting against your lips as he fucked you deeper. “Look at me.” 

The air around you got warm again as you met his heated stare, his movements were slightly rougher, but passionate and loving. His hips rolled against your body perfectly, and his body weight pressing down gently on you was comforting and intimate. His grip around your hand tightened each time you’d moan his name under your breath. 

“Oh babygirl, you’re all mine.” He whispered against your lips, and leaned in to kiss you deeply while he deliberately stroked his cock against your walls as slowly as he could just to make you whine and whimper even more under him. 

When he pulled away to look down at you, his stare was intense, but loving. His lips were full and swollen as he looked down at you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen. You felt his cock hit all the right spots each time he moved against you, and his lips parted and he groaned the moment your walls started clenching around him. 

He moaned at how tight you felt around his throbbing cock, and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Come for me, babygirl…” He whispered, voice strained and gravelly which sent chills down your body. “Come for daddy,” He growled. 

His voice was enough to take you right to the edge. You felt the pressure and the familiar, sweet pain in between your legs, making you gasp for air and your walls clench violently around him. You moaned loudly again, wantonly. 

His hands reached down and grabbed your sides gently, keeping you in place as he sped up into you, his cock slipping in and out of you with ease. Your bodies moved perfectly against each other. He held you as close to him as he could, pushing his face into you and nuzzling your neck as he fucked you relentlessly. 

“Oh baby, you take this cock so well,” He growled into your ear, making your brain all foggy. “Look at you, so fucking beautiful while you take all of me in there, huh?” 

With a few more strokes of his cock, you came undone with a cry of pleasure, gushing out all around him, grinding against him eagerly while he moaned against your lips as he came right after you, filling you up. 

“Fuck,” He gasped, getting off of you quickly and holding you close to him as you caught your breath, “Are you okay, babygirl?” He asked, kissing your head. 

You ended up giggling as you came down from that high. A place so far away that no one ever took you before. “I’m okay,” You said, “I do want some cuddles though.” 

Bucky chuckled, “Whatever my princess wants,” Then pulled you into him, spooning you from behind. “Get some sleep, baby. I’ll wake you up tomorrow.” 

–

The next morning, neither of you could get your hands off each other. So that meant spending half of the day in bed. And by mid-day when you said that maybe he should take you back to the shore, Bucky refused. 

“Just spend another night with me. Please, babygirl.” He begged with those puppy dog eyes. “I’ll take you back to your hotel room tomorrow morning, I promise.” 

– 

He did take you back. But not to drop you, because he had convinced you to check out, take your things and move them to his boat. 

“We’re travelling to the same countries,” He said, “Let's just take the boat and go together.” 

You ended up spending two whole weeks with him after that conversation. Going into the third week, you forgot all about real life. All that existed were these perfect days with Bucky; sailing around Europe, watching sunsets and sunrises and stargazing, having amazing sex, and repeat. 

–

Reality hit you like a freight train one night when you finally remembered to charge your phone and realised that you had forgotten to update your friends and family about your location and whose company you were in. You scrolled through the endless missed calls, emails, and unanswered texts, and quickly responded to some of them. 

You didn’t get much sleep that night, not only because Bucky kept you up until the early hours of the morning, but because you were scared of having to get back to the real world. 

Bucky found you out on the main deck that morning. You leaned against the handrail, looking at the sun that would rise in a few minutes, wearing nothing but one of his shirts. He stayed a few steps back, just admiring you. 

But you knew he was there. You could always tell he was watching. So you looked over your shoulder and gave him a smile, “Good morning, handsome.” 

He rushed over and wrapped his arms around you. “I can’t get over how good you look in my clothes.” And when you didn’t respond with something sassy as usual, Bucky knew something was wrong. “What is it, baby? Are you okay?” 

You turned to face him instead of the sunrise, and just said it. “I should go back home. I’ve been away for longer than I should’ve been.” You watched how he frowned at you, his eyes still a little sleepy. His hair was tied into a messy, low bun. 

You knew you’d never be able to forget this man. Even if you go back home and get sucked back into a cycle you wanted no part of. You couldn’t help but touch his face gently, caressing his cheek. 

“But,” He said, a little confused still, “We’re having fun, aren’t we, baby?” He leaned closer, holding you tighter. “You can stay. You should stay, you hate that city.” 

You nodded, “I know. But I can’t stay here forever, Buck.” It hurt to even say it. 

“Why not?” He argued. “I’ll take care of you. Haven’t I been taking care of you?” He questioned, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “Please babygirl, don’t leave me.” 

You gasped softly as he kissed and nibbled on your skin, his mouth moving all over your neck. “I.. I need to go home at some point.” You said. 

Bucky pulled away to look at you. The sky began to get lighter. His eyes still shone like jewels. “And where’s that?” He asked. “Where’s home, baby? Hmm? In that city you don’t like? Surrounded by people you can’t relate to? Stuck in some job you hate?” He returned the words you’d said to him the night you first met. 

And for some reason, that made you tear up. The thought of the life before him. “I… I don’t know.” You said, lips quivering as a tear fell down your cheek. 

He quickly wiped your tears away, “Baby…” He whispered, “That’s not a home, princess. Home is supposed to feel warm, free, and happy. Are you happy or free in that city?” 

You shook your head. “No,” You sniffled. “But I can’t just keep running.”  

“Just be with me. Here.” He said. “This isn’t running, this is us having fun.” 

“Well, you’ll have to go back to real life at some point too. What then?” You asked. 

He gave you a smile, “I’ll take you with me when I do, princess.” 

You scoffed, “Bucky, I’m serious.” You said.

“So am I.” He insisted. “Stay with me, babygirl. I’ll take care of you. You know I will.” 

You sighed, and wiped away your own tears. “And then what? Make you my sugar daddy?” You joked. 

“Like that’s such a horrible thing.” He argued. 

You rolled your eyes at him, tried to get out of his arms but he wouldn’t let you. You faced him again, “I can’t do that.” 

“This is gonna work.” He insisted again. “Just stay with me.” 

“We’ve known each other for mere weeks.” You said, thinking back on how these mere week have been some of the best days of your entire life. 

Bucky gave you a wise smile, and said calmly, “I’ve been in relationships that have lasted months, and even years, and yet no one has ever made me feel the way you did these past few weeks.” 

You shed another tear, “I’m a mess, Buck. I don’t even have a job.” You chuckled humorlessly, then sniffled. 

“I’ll get you a job.” He offered. 

“No.” 

“No?” 

“No.”

“Okay then, whatever you want, princess.” He said, holding you close. “But I can't let you go. I won’t.” 

“You’re awfully stubborn.” You whispered, hiding your face into the crook of his warm neck. 

“Stay with me.” 

“Bucky…” 

“Baby.” 

“What am I gonna tell my parents?” You questioned. “Oh I found a really kind, charming and handsome older guy who took me on a nice ride on his nice boat and I think I’m gonna move in and start living with him?” 

Bucky chuckled. “I took you on more than just a ride on my boat.” 

You shoved him playfully. Then relaxed into his arms again. “I’m scared, Buck.” You admitted. 

“I’m not.” He said firmly. “Baby, we’ll figure it out. Tell me you don’t want this. Look me in the eyes and tell me you wanna leave what we have right now and go back to the city.” He pulled away to look at you. “Tell me that truthfully, and I’ll let you go. Can you do that?” 

You sighed, tears filling your eyes again. “No,” You whispered. “I don’t wanna go.” You said, “But I’m scared.” 

“Shh,” He hugged you close again. “I’ve got you, babygirl.” 

You wrapped your arms tightly around him, breathed in his scent and wanted to cry some more because this man was so dreamy. “What if you stop liking me?” 

“Hey.” He chided playfully. 

“I’m just saying. What if?” 

Bucky pulled away to look down at you again, “Why would you ask me that? Is it really that hard to believe that I love you? Haven’t I shown it to you these past weeks?” He questioned. 

Your eyes widened. “Oh. You love me?” You didn’t mean for it to sound like you were teasing him, but it did. 

Bucky rolled his eyes. Whispering under his breath, “You’re such a brat.” As he tried to pull away, you tightened your arms around him to stop him. 

“No, no, don't go anywhere.” You chuckled at the expression on his face. “Tell me more about how much you love me.” 

He gave you a kind smile, leaned down to kiss your forehead and whispered, “How about I show you?” 

So you let him show you. And you stayed. 

And the life you had together couldn’t have been more perfect.

[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 18 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

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

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, mentions of violence, descriptions of smoking, ANGST, some fluff, SLOW BURN

words: 13.9k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 18 ► if everything i said was true, then why am i paralysed?

You and Jungkook spent the rest of Rated Riot’s day off in your hotel room in Manchester.

People kept coming to check on you, including Minjun, who made a hesitant appearance but brightened up immediately when he heard you and Jungkook laughing just before he opened the door to your room. And after the last visitors—the rest of the Rated Riot members, who had accidentally knocked over a lamp and broken the wardrobe door within fifteen minutes of entering the room—had left, you and Jungkook found yourselves alone in the room again.

You both reached a compromise to lie on the bed and talk since you refused to sleep, and he refused to let you out of the room.

It wasn’t exactly a pillow fort that you’d built for yourselves—really, it was more of a loose, cosy blanket hut—but it still brought back memories of the nights you’d spent in your dorm room years ago. And after last night’s conversation, you couldn’t help but think about all the nights that hadn’t happened because Jungkook was trying to do something more for you.

Really, this was all you needed—back then and, as it turned out, right now: some pillows for comfort and Jungkook laughing next to you.

He rolled onto his side, and you mirrored his position until you were facing each other. Suddenly, you both had to strain very hard not to laugh again. But the story that had amused you at first—about Jungkook and Hoseok’s failed attempt to bake a cake for Yoongi’s birthday the previous year, which was another thing Jungkook hadn’t mentioned to you after nearly setting his apartment on fire—had almost faded from your mind.

You were just happy to be in the moment.

You felt dizzy from the vitamins you’d received over the past few days. And from the shower you’d taken half an hour ago. And from the fact that lying here on the hotel bed with Jungkook was almost overwhelming. It felt a little like you had lost an important piece of yourself—just dropped it somewhere absentmindedly—and now you’d accidentally found it, fully intact.

But at the dark corners of your mind, there were worries. You couldn’t help it—not even the star-shaped pattern reflected in his dark eyes could distract you from the inevitability of the Future. And of Consequences.

What did this mean?

All the thoughtful gestures, the well-meaning mishaps, the inevitable insecurities, and the constant presence of his friends that the two of you had talked about last night. And the bet, too.

What would happen next?

You were about to pull away and succumb fully to your anxiety, but Jungkook reached out a hand—his tattoos blurred in the shadows of your dark room—to sweep a strand of hair from your cheek, and you discovered that, despite everything, your body had not relinquished its instinctive response to his touch.

You felt your breath slowing down, your muscles relaxing. His fingertips gently brushed over the skin of your cheek, and the goosebumps on the back of your neck ran wild. You closed your eyes and exhaled.

Five minutes, he’d once asked you. Five minutes that won’t mean anything once they’re over.

“I feel,” he spoke up softly, and you opened your eyes again, “a bit like we’re back in Amsterdam.”

Hesitantly—against his wishes, really—he withdrew his hand and placed it on the pillow under his cheek.

“We’re, uh—we’re very far from Amsterdam,” you replied.

You didn’t mean the physical distance, of course. You meant the moments from leaving the bed in Amsterdam to being in this bed here, in Manchester—with your arm still slightly stinging from the catheter.

“I know,” Jungkook said. You rolled onto your back, your eyes fixed on the ceiling, even though your mind kept shouting at you to look at him. “But I’m scared to leave this room because I don’t know what’s going to happen.”

You pressed your lips together and ran your tongue over them. You wondered if his fear matched yours, or if they were two opposite sides of the same coin.

You turned your head. “What do you mean?”

He observed you for a moment. The lines of laughter hadn’t faded from your face yet, and you looked breathtaking.

He realised that it was much harder to admit things in the daylight than at night. Arctic Monkeys had made a good point.

“I mean, I don’t know if you’ll be okay,” he said. “If—”

“I will be,” you cut in.

He swallowed. “I don’t know if you’ll talk to me again.”

The look in his eyes was hopeful but uncertain, and you turned back to the ceiling. There was something comforting about the smooth tiles above. They didn’t make you feel like your chest was exploding into millions of little pieces, each with his name inked on it.

“I’m talking to you now,” you managed to say, even after your voice broke on the third syllable.

“Right,” he said. “But I mean about things that really matter.”

“Well,” you inhaled, “we talked about a lot of them last night.”

“Yeah, but that was—you know.” This time, it was Jungkook who rolled onto his back and clasped his hands on his stomach. “Things that happened years ago.”

“Yeah, but they’re new to me,” you pointed out.

“Sure,” he agreed. His foot twitched as he tried to find his words. “But I’m—we haven’t decided if that changes things. Not that I’m—I mean—”

“It changes things.”

He turned his head to look at you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said. “I don’t know what to say because my mind is just, sort of… well, I don’t know. What I do know is that I like being here with you, and I don’t want to think about leaving.”

Jungkook thought that feeling this way was impossible.

After the existential fever that he’d gone through—and all the cigarettes he’d smoked to stay on his feet—his chest and lungs and, really, about three-quarters of his entire body should have turned to ash by now.

But lying next to you and hearing you say that you liked being here with him made him feel more alive than ever before.

“I don’t want to think about it, either,” he admitted in a hushed tone, as if he was revealing a secret. “B-but—we—we’ll have to leave, though.”

A small smile formed on your face. “You sound like me.”

He smiled, too. “I try.”

You snorted and looked away. There was a time restriction on how long you could look at him and keep your brain functioning.

“I know we’ll have to,” you said. “But here’s a, um—an unconventional suggestion. How about we don’t do this right now? How about we don’t talk about the bet, or about us, or about what anything means, and just—let’s just not talk.”

He could do that. He could just not talk.

But it would kill him—having five, fifteen, even thirty minutes of ignorant peace with you. That was simply not enough time.

He didn’t just want an hour with you. He wanted a lifetime.

“Okay. So,” he started, scratching a spot between his knuckles, “what do you want to do?”

“I want,” you replied, swallowing your inner disquiet, “not to have to make any decisions.”

“About us?” he asked. The slight hint of panic in his voice made you tap your restless fingers against the blanket beneath you.

“About anything.”

The room lit up as a car pulled into one of the side alleys behind your hotel room window.

“Reconnaissance?” he said—not really a statement, but not quite a question, either. The name of the band that he’d loved so much suddenly sounded like the start of a curse. “Have you—have you decided if you’re leaving?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, almost nauseous from the sudden surge of stress. It seemed like every aspect of your life required your immediate attention and demanded an answer to a crucial, life-altering question. It felt like everything was slipping away—and you were trying to catch it all at once, and couldn’t catch anything at all.

You really didn’t want to leave this room.

“I haven’t decided how I’m getting out of this bed,” you finally said, your groan muffled by something thick lodged in your throat. You shifted your body to face him but kept your eyes closed. “I don’t know what to tell you, Jungkook. I’m so—I’m just—”

“Okay,” he cut in hastily. He didn’t like the wrinkle between your eyebrows—he preferred the wrinkles by your lips. “Well, look—we don’t—we don’t have to talk about anything that makes you uncomfortable. If you want to go back to work, we can do that. If you want to avoid me, then I’ll—well, I—”

“I don’t want to avoid you,” you said.

“Okay,” he said again because that was the only word he trusted himself with. Hesitantly, he added, “so… truce, then?”

You opened your eyes. “Truce?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Let’s stop avoiding each other. And let’s just focus on our work.”

It sounded a little like another one of his five-minute promises—driven by the urgency to make it so, to drown out the doubts that this was weak. That it wouldn’t work. That you could never go back and expect everything to be okay without making any real decisions about anything: not your relationship, not your future, not even what you’d do tomorrow.

“Can we actually do that?” you asked anyway—and because you did, Jungkook nodded enthusiastically.

“Of course,” he assured. “We can do anything.”

You needed to hear that—even if it wasn’t true. Even if it was temporary.

Knowing that someone was willing to take the responsibility for a decision away from you was good enough for the moment.

“Okay,” you said. “Truce, then.”

He nodded. “Okay.”

“We’ll talk,” you promised quietly, closing your eyes again. “Just not right now.”

You could almost feel the unease settling into a slumber deep inside your mind. It would wake eventually.

All the words, all the feelings—all of it had been left unsaid. Some of it unthought. But it was still there, hovering on the hazy edge of your subconscious, and fighting—the more you resisted—to break out.

But then Jungkook asked if he had ever told you about Taehyung walking in his sleep when he had the flu on tour last year, and all the anxious spaces inside of your chest eased. You smiled as you listened, and you had all you needed—and nothing less—right here again.

The next morning, you left your hotel room feeling a little lighter.

You haven’t fully processed—or adjusted to—the things that Jungkook had revealed to you, but you’d found somewhat of a common ground with him. You could tolerate each other’s presence with surprising ease despite the weight of all the decisions looming over you.

You returned to your duties as soon as you left the hotel. You saw a new text message from Nick on your phone, but you had no time—or wish—to deal with Reconnaissance right now.

At such short notice, the best solution you could find for Jungkook’s black eye was an eye patch. Fortunately, you didn’t have to go far from the venue to find one before Rated Riot started their soundcheck.

Even more fortunate was the fact that the band and the staff all found the eye patch so amusing that they kept making pirate jokes—much to Jungkook’s growing annoyance—and it distracted everyone from your fainting spell and the two days you had spent in bed.

The eye patch was black to match his outfit, or at least that was what you told him. In reality, the only place near the venue where you could buy eye patches was a costume shop.

When you returned to the venue with a dark costume bag, Namjoon happened to be passing by in the corridor. He had no choice but to become an accessory to your petty crime as you grabbed the eye patch and hid the rest of the costume in Namjoon’s suitcase.

There was no reason for Jungkook to know about the rest of the costume, and Namjoon—once he stopped laughing—agreed.

You figured that as long as the patch covered the bandages and discolouration around Jungkook’s eye, it would be okay.

Jungkook, of course, had a different opinion.

“I look stupid,” he insisted when you and Jimin were double-checking the sound equipment. The two of you wanted to make sure no damage had been done to it when the venue staff cleaned up after the flood.

“Should’ve thought about that before you got a black eye,” you mumbled half-heartedly, too preoccupied with the list of electronics that Jimin had handed you. You didn’t recognise most of the devices on the list and couldn’t even read what some were called in the awful lighting backstage.

Meanwhile, Rated Riot’s temporary opening act finished her set, allowing Seokjin to go out and prepare the stage for the band. Expectant cheers from the audience lifted your spirits as you followed Jimin’s list.

Maggie had been the one who secured this up-and-coming artist to open for the band tonight. Her name was Ivy, and she had tattoos of ivy vines all over her arms, which may have been the initial reason Maggie chose her. But as soon as Ivy started to sing, there was no question about her talent.

“Hey, Jungkook!” Seokjin called out ten minutes later, and you glanced up just as he walked down the steps from the stage. “Serious question: what has six eyes, six legs, and six arms?”

You guessed the punchline before Jungkook could even open his mouth. “How is that—”

“Six pirates!” Seokjin answered, and his endearing—and so contagious that it was almost ungodly—windshield wiper laugh made you chuckle as well. Jimin hiccupped and turned away from everyone, presumably to conceal his own laughter.

“That’s it, I’m taking this off,” Jungkook declared in frustration, reaching for the string that secured the patch.

You stopped laughing and jumped up, shouting a panicked “no!” and quickly grabbing his wrist.

He looked up, momentarily stunned by your touch.

“If you go on that stage with your bandages and a black eye underneath, the label will send us straight home,” you said. “I don’t care how much you sweat or how many pirate jokes these guys make. You’re wearing this.”

He pouted, exaggerating his reaction, but there was genuine discomfort in his healthy eye, even if it was drowning in black eye shadow. He knew it would be unprofessional to get on stage without covering up his wounds, but he worried the eye patch was a worse alternative.

“I look fucking stupid,” he said, and to be fair, he did look silly—to say the least. But you had seen him at the soundcheck. When he performed, his make-up and accessories faded against his voice and stage presence.

“You don’t,” you reassured him again. “You’re a rockstar. You can pull off an eye patch.”

He continued to watch you, his pout becoming more dramatic when he scrunched his nose. You felt a smile spreading on your lips. He had looked at you like this on purpose many times—usually to convince you that he couldn’t possibly survive without seeing you right this instant, even though you had to study for exams—and your chest immediately warmed.

You managed to nod again to reaffirm what you’d just said. Finally, he sighed and let go of the patch. You released his wrist and took a step back.

Just then, Jimin emerged from behind one of the amplifiers to your left. You couldn’t see the wide grin on his face, but Jungkook could, and he reached for Hoseok’s drumsticks right away.

“Ready when you are, Captain,” Jimin said and then quickly ducked as Jungkook tossed the drumstick at his head.

“Fuck off,” he grumbled, ignoring Jimin’s laughter and allowing Yoongi to guide him to the stairs that led to the stage.

“Do you really think he can pull this off?” Jimin asked you as the band members walked towards the dimly lit stage entrance.

All four of them stumbled over their feet at least once, but you didn’t react—you’ve been their manager long enough to know that tripping before a concert was almost a good luck charm.

“Because I assume,” Jimin went on, “that he was trying to divert attention from his eye patch by applying all the black eyeshadow he has to his other eye.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, suspecting the same. “Up close, he sort of looks like Captain Hook and Edward Scissorhands had a baby.”

“Oh my God, he does,” Jimin whispered in awe and grabbed onto your shoulder to steady himself as his laughter erupted in violent waves. “Someone needs to get him a wig, so—so he could wear Captain Hook’s hat, too—with the—with the feather and everything—”

The image finally made you lose your composure, too. Seokjin looked up when he heard your laughter and approached to learn what was so funny. After Jimin panted through an answer, the stage manager joined in.

The three of you laughed so hard that you transcended noise and just wheezed voicelessly like malfunctioning dog whistles.

Suddenly, Jungkook turned to look at you from the side of the stage as he inserted his earpiece. You had half a second to pull yourself together before he lost confidence and threw the eye patch away.

Quickly, you raised your hand and formed an ‘O’ with your fingers to signal that everything was okay—even though you had tears in your eyes and the laughter of the two boys did not help you keep a straight face.

Jungkook had doubt in his eyes—well, eye—but you bit your lip and gave him another reassuring nod. Despite your amusement, you could tell he looked ready. And from this far, his eyeshadow didn’t look all that threatening.

As you watched the intense concentration on his face, it was hard to imagine there being anything in this world that could make him look bad. Neither the eye patch, nor the heavy make-up truly managed it.

Jungkook took a step forward just as Taehyung played the first note on his bass. The audience greeted the band with explosive cries that reached you at the back of the stage.

“I have to go,” you told Seokjin and Jimin while they continued to gasp for breath—because they started laughing every time they looked at each other. “Someone has to make sure the eye patch doesn’t fall off during the show.”

“We should find him a bottle of rum,” Seokjin said, and Jimin threw his whole body backwards as he laughed.

“A parrot,” he managed between wheezes, prompting Seokjin to clap in vigorous approval as his face contorted with near-painful laughter.

You were still snickering when you walked away to watch the show from the venue.

Fortunately, Jungkook’s eye patch stayed in place throughout Rated Riot’s performance. What surprised you, however, was the effect it had on the audience.

Unlike everyone backstage, the fans didn’t find the eye patch funny or ridiculous. They loved it.

Granted, you probably should have seen this coming. When Jungkook took off his shirt in the second half of the show, which had become almost a tradition at this point, the eye patch—along with his tattoos, dishevelled hair and messy make-up—did, sort of, make your breath catch in your throat as well.

But as luck would have it, you couldn’t concentrate too much on what was happening on stage because your friends—bless them—kept giving you worried looks. It was very sweet of them, of course, but you started to feel sicker than you really were.

As the show approached its conclusion, you realised that you were feeling slightly lightheaded, after all. It usually got very hot very quickly this close to the stage, so you weren’t too worried. Still, you decided to miss the last few songs just in case.

You returned backstage just as Rated Riot started their encore. You hoped to have a few minutes alone with your thoughts and a bottle of water. However, as soon as you walked through the corridor towards the waiting area, you nearly collided with Minjun.

You pulled back, startled. “Hey. What are you doing here?”

“Headache,” he said, holding up his beer bottle as if that was his solution to the problem. “What about you? Do you—do you maybe happen to have a minute?”

You were surprised that Minjun would need any of your minutes at all.

“Uh—” you glanced back, even though the noise of the concert was loud enough to hear without turning around. “Sure. What’s up?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” he explained, putting his bottle on the table near the dressing room. He shoved his hands in his pockets and paused before turning around. “Uh, first of all, um—are you okay?”

Your polite smile seemed to hide a deep weariness. The corner of your lip fluttered treacherously.

“Yeah,” you said. “I’m fine.”

“I heard that’s your default answer,” he remarked sheepishly.

You hadn’t expected that. Unlike Sid, who only asked questions to fill the silence, Minjun observed you in a way that Jungkook often did—with a quiet determination to get you to admit the truth.

Your expression softened.

“I mean it,” you said. “I really do feel better. Just a little dizzy, but I guess that’s because it’s really hot out there.”

“Yeah—oh, can I get you water? A beer?” he asked. You sensed guilty undertones in his offer; as though he wanted to do something nice for you to redeem himself.

“Water would be great,” you said. “But I can—”

“One second!”

He hurried into the dressing room and returned half a minute later with a bottle of water from the mini-fridge, its plastic cloudy from condensation.

“Thank you,” you said. “Do you want to sit?”

You gestured towards the couch, pushed against the far wall of the corridor. He nodded in response, and the two of you sat down in complete—and a little awkward—silence.

“So, was that… what you wanted to talk to me about?” you asked, unsure what to make of his discomfort as he fiddled his fingers next to you. He looked like he was about to shed his skin.

“No, um—it’s not,” he said. “Uh… I wanted to talk about Jungkook. I meant to do it earlier, but, well, you weren’t feeling well, and I didn’t want to—”

“That’s okay,” you said, hoping to hide your impatience with another polite smile. “Talk to me.”

You took a sip of your water, which was far too cold to feel refreshing, while Minjun collected his thoughts.

“Well—h-he fucked up,” he said profoundly.

You nodded, not quite present in the conversation because you were trying not to open your mouth and hah-hah-hah from the cold water like you would if your throat was burning.

“Sure,” you said.

Minjun looked a little thrown off by the word. Given the extent of Jungkook’s suffering after he told you about the bet and couldn’t convince you to hear him out, Minjun assumed you would refuse to even hear a word about it.

“Sid had a lot to do with that,” he added, crossing his arms and stretching his denim jacket.

You nodded again, still as nonchalant as before. Minjun was a little perplexed.

But really, you’ve already talked to Jungkook—and Luna—about this. Not extensively, but it was enough for you to accept that it had happened, and that you didn’t possess a watch that could magically turn back time and make different choices.

Sid had proposed the bet, and Jungkook had played along with it. It was done. And now there was no reason to scream or storm out.

“He always does,” you said.

“That’s—well, that’s very true.” Minjun looked at the ground. He knew what he wanted to talk to you about, but your reasonable responses had left his thoughts in disarray, and now his mind was throwing random, incomprehensible bits of his rehearsed speech at him. “Jungkook, um—he thinks Sid likes you.”

You were already nodding once more when you froze, frowning instead. “Excu—what?”

“Yeah,” Minjun said, feeling a little more collected now that you finally reacted as he’d expected. “Apparently, he believes that Sid pressured him into making this bet because of that. To sabotage your relationship, I guess.”

You couldn’t help a scoff. “That’s dramatic.”

Minjun arched his brow. “Have you met Sid?”

“I didn’t say it didn’t fit his personality,” you said. “I just said it’s dramatic. And unnecessary”

“Well,” he shrugged one of his shoulders, “those are his middle names.”

“I don’t think it’s true, though,” your answer was quick. As if you hadn’t needed any time at all to think if this was possible. The very idea that Sid liked anyone other than himself was laughable.

“You don’t?” Minjun asked. He didn’t seem surprised by your disagreement. Merely curious to hear your reasoning.

“No,” you said. “If he liked me, he would have done something about it. I’ve known you guys almost as long as I’ve known Jungkook. And all that Sid’s done in this time, is make my life difficult.”

Minjun lowered his head. Those were his first assumptions as well. Sid wouldn’t stay on the sidelines that long. If he wanted something, he went to great lengths to get it.

But on the other hand, if Sid couldn’t get something, he often acted as if he’d never even wanted it, and harboured a deep resentment towards the object of desire at the same time.

Minjun sighed.

“I think I agree with you,” he said.

You turned to look at him. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” he said. “I don’t know if Sid ever really liked you, but I think the real problem is that Sid’s jealous of Jungkook and everything Jungkook has. He’s inferior to Sid, you know? That’s how Sid sees it. And yet, Jungkook is in a rock band. He has shows almost every night. He has real friends, real talent, real support. And he has a girl he loves more than anything. All Sid has is money. He probably doesn’t even understand how it’s possible for money to matter so little.”

You bobbed your head in contemplation. Money held such a massive significance in this world. The fact that Sid had it in abundance and still couldn’t find contentment only proved how pitiful he truly was.

“I thought the same thing,” you admitted. “I always assumed there must be some tension between them now that Jungkook is more than just Sid’s friend. Or, really, his sidekick.”

Minjun nodded. “Exactly, yeah.”

You exhaled and stretched your legs. You wondered what Minjun’s logic was, since he knew what Sid was like, but did not do anything to rid himself of him.

“Why are you, by the way?” you asked. “Sid’s friend, I mean.”

Minjun’s sad smile confirmed to you that there was something more here. No one would have willingly chosen to keep Sid in their lives.

“I’m doing a community service to rescue Jude from his claws,” he said in a very serious tone. “And to leave Sid alone and miserable.”

“I admire your mission,” you said with an amused smile. “But seriously. Why?”

He sighed. He preferred the silly, made-up versions of his story.

I’m an undercover FBI agent collecting information on Sid so we can lock him up for good.

I’m writing a book on insufferable psychopaths. Sid is my primary research subject.

All of these made him appear like he had some control over his choices. They made him feel less pathetic.

“It’s a family thing,” Minjun said, closing his eyes and pulling the corner of his lip into his mouth. “I don’t...”

He let the sentence trail off, and you interjected softly, “you don’t have to tell me everything.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” he said, giving you an apologetic look. “It’s just… stupid. My family—well, my parents—they’ve been business partners with Sid’s mum for a long time. She bought my parents’ company, and they signed some partnership agreement that was supposed to guarantee that my parents retained full control of their business. But, uh, you know.”

“They still answer to Sid’s mum in the end,” you finished.

Minjun clicked his tongue. “Yeah. It’s… they used to send me off to play with Sid, and they would tell me to be nice to him. Because if I upset him and it gets to his mother, my parents are the ones who suffer for it.”

“That’s—that makes no sense,” you said, lacking a better description for something that sounded ridiculous and, frankly, surreal.

“I know,” he agreed. “But Sid’s mum is—he’s her only kid. And she really, really wanted to have kids. I don’t know the whole story—I never cared—but from what I’ve heard, Sid’s parents tried everything they could for a very long time to have children. They have the money for it. Still, nothing worked. And then, all of a sudden, Sid. Their miracle baby. Their little angel. Maybe if they hadn’t treated him like he was king, he would have turned out differently. But his mum doesn’t even hear the way he talks to her sometimes.”

You tsked, unimpressed. “I’m not surprised. Nothing’s sacred to him.”

“Yeah. He doesn’t care about others. And still, his mother is ready to unleash hell if anyone wrongs him,” Minjun said, reaching to brush some invisible dust from his upper arm. “The ironic thing is, though, everyone in my parents’ company was very happy when Sid was born. His mum was—well, understandably, she wasn’t the most pleasant person to be around when she was going through… all that, you know? And I say that respectfully. She threatened to bankrupt my mum after she got pregnant with me and tried to talk to Sid’s mum about parental leave.”

You’ve never met Sid’s parents, but you’ve had the misfortune of meeting Sid, and it wasn’t hard to imagine where he got his personality from.

“Ah,” you said. “So, the apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree, huh?”

Minjun snickered and shook his head.

“Hmm, it doesn’t. But Sid’s mum found out a few weeks later that she was pregnant, too. And from then on, she was a real saint,” he said. “So, my parents were hoping that I could be the leverage if something went wrong in their business. ‘Oh, but our sons have always been almost like brothers’ kind of thing. That way, they won’t lose all their money if Sid’s mum has a sudden change of heart.”

“Fuck,” you concluded.

“Yeah. They would have gotten him and me engaged, too.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t, actually.”

A small, ironic smile had crept onto Minjun’s lips.

“I’m sure they’ve thought about it,” he said, looking at the bottle of beer he’d left across the room. He’d put it there because he didn’t want to drink if you weren’t drinking, but now he was regretting his manners. “Unfortunately, Sid isn’t my type. My parents had the decency to respect that, at least.”

You chuckled, and Minjun brightened a little, too.

“To be fair,” you remarked, “I don’t think Sid is anyone’s type.”

“Good point.”

You looked at the floor tiles and considered this. You wanted to know if it had happened before—something to convince Minjun that he should obey Sid as much as possible, or his parents would face the consequences—but you didn’t think it was fair to ask him to elaborate.

The way Minjun looked right now, with all colour drained from his eyes as he tried to keep smiling, it seemed like he knew exactly what Sid’s mum could do if her son said one word to her.

So, the two of you sat in silence for a little while longer, while shouts of excitement from the concert echoed around you.

“And, uh—what about Jude, then?” you asked after a minute. “Why does he stick around?”

Minjun didn’t make jokes this time.

“I honestly think Jude just doesn’t know any better,” he said. “He’s known Sid the longest. Their mothers were friends before Jude’s parents got divorced and his mum moved abroad. He just doesn’t know a different life.”

“You mean he’s too used to Sid to see that he is bad for him,” you summarised.

“I think he sees it,” Minjun said, analysing the plaster on the walls of the waiting area. “He just doesn't care.”

“Ah.” You nodded your head. “He needs help.”

“Lots of it.”

“Mmhm.”

That about confirmed to you that Sid had always been the problem. The poisonous leech.

Jungkook saw the problem, even if it took him a while. And Minjun saw it, too. It was just absurdly unfair that there was nothing he could do about it.

And then you wondered if Jungkook could do anything about it. He’d fought Sid and banned him from Rated Riot shows. But would that accomplish anything?

This was Sid. Sometimes it seemed like all it took for him to be summoned was just the mention of his name. He had to be at least half-demon.

“Kind of sad, when you think about it, isn’t it?” Minjun spoke up then. You thought he was referring to himself before he added, “that Sid doesn’t have one real friend.”

You grimaced.

“I’m—not sure if I’d call it sad,” you said. “I don’t think he deserves to have real friends.”

“Yeah, no, that’s true,” he settled. “Still, though. He acts like a king. And all he really has is just paper.”

You considered yourself a compassionate, caring person. But you didn’t think you were capable of genuinely pitying Sid.

“Did you come here to make me feel bad for him?” you asked. “Because if that’s the case, we might be here for a while, and I’m not sure either of us has the time.”

“No,” Minjun said, chuckling awkwardly. “He’s the last person you should feel bad for. I’m just saying… he’s miserable and he likes to make others miserable, too. Especially Jungkook.”

He gave you a look, and you turned away, realising that you were circling back to his original reason for talking to you.

You took another sip of water. It had warmed a little and tasted less violent in your throat.

“Yeah, well.” You popped your lips. “Pretty much everyone who knows Sid knows that.”

“Yeah, and I… I should have found you earlier,” he said, lowering his head in a manner reminiscent of all the times you had seen him avoid your gaze when you entered the room. “Sid made sure Jungkook couldn’t tell you, but I wasn’t—I could’ve told you about the bet.”

“That would have—well, it would have saved us a lot of, uh, time,” you said and gave him a kind smile that was supposed to let him know you weren’t really angry. But Minjun only felt worse after he saw it.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He looked up as he spoke and the regret in his eyes added a deeper significance to his apology. “I was… afraid, I guess. I don’t know how else to—well, it’s not a good excuse, but—”

“I get it,” you interrupted. “And thanks. It’s not really your mess to clean, though.”

He didn’t think it was. Still, he felt like he had let Jungkook down.

After seeing you two laughing together in your hotel room, Minjun hoped that Jungkook had explained his decisions—no matter how backwards they were—to you. So, now it was time for Minjun to say something, too.

“Jungkook, uh… he made the stupid decision to play Sid’s game,” he said. “And now you’re both suffering because of it. I don’t think you should give Sid that much power.”

You contemplated this for a minute and gave a slight shake of your head.

“See,” you said, “I think Jungkook is the one suffering because of Sid’s game. And I’m in this because of the consequences of a stupid decision that Jungkook had made.”

“True enough. He shouldn’t have cared about Sid that much,” Minjun agreed. The pounding in his head doubled as he tried to think of how to phrase himself next. “It’s not really my place to say, but um—I’ve been friends with Jungkook for most of my life, so I think I know him pretty well. He’s—he has always been in love with you. He’s just… blinded by a lot of irrelevant things. And I think he realises that now. He was really shaken up after the bet, and that’s when these things happen, isn’t it? Something massive strikes and it makes you rearrange your priorities. Well, his priority is you.”

Minjun felt your body tense next to him on the couch. He had never said anything like this to you—and Jungkook had never soberly told Minjun that he loved you, either—but it was about as obvious as your warm eyes and clenched jaw.

You knew it, too. You just didn’t want to acknowledge it.

“He made a really stupid decision,” Minjun reiterated. “And I think he knew that right away. Except you know Sid. He couldn’t let him off the hook, especially when he saw how miserable this made Jungkook.”

You hummed, incapable, suddenly, of a verbal response.

The shouts around you grew louder. Rated Riot were finishing the final song of the encore—and it started to sound like another band member had removed a piece of clothing.

“The bet and his feelings for you,” Minjun continued, “those are two separate things. So, I just—well, which one of them do you feel upset about?”

The anxiety in your lungs didn’t have much room to spare for oxygen, but the question still knocked all breath out of you.

“I—”

“No, actually,” Minjun said, closing his eyes and drawing back, “you know what? This isn’t something I should be asking you. I’m sorry. It’s something you should talk to him about. When you’re ready, of course.”

You still looked near panicked when Minjun glanced at you, and you hurried to respond in a way that would end the conversation, because the staff and the band would soon join you backstage. You needed another bottle of water before you could return to your job.

“Yeah. Uh, I’ll—I’ll see about that,” you ended up saying, which wasn’t much, but Minjun wasn’t going to push. “I’m, uh… they’re about to get off stage—I—I have to go check on them.” You stood up. You still hadn’t made eye contact with him. “We have an eye patch situation as you’re well aware, I’m sure.”

Minjun smiled courteously.

“I know,” he said. “But make sure to think about what I said, okay?”

“I will,” you said, trying to nod, but your head felt too full. You were worried that if you moved it, all of your uncertainty and fear would spill out.

You had hoped to delay talking to Jungkook about everything a little longer, but something in your universe was pushing against that.

“Thank you,” you said almost as an afterthought.

“Hm?” Minjun raised his eyebrows. “For what?”

“For staying with him.”

Minjun’s eyes warmed as his smile spread.

“He’s my oldest friend,” he said. “Of course, I’m staying.”

The usual lines of people waiting to meet Rated Riot at the merch stand after the show had tripled tonight. It appeared that almost everyone who had bought a ticket stayed back for the band.

You didn’t know if the eye patch had anything to do with it, but Maggie’s Instagram post with preview pictures from tonight’s show, half-jokingly titled “Rockstar Pirate”, quickly became the most-liked post on her account.

However, before Jungkook could go out and meet the fans, his bandages had to be changed. The intense jumping and sweating had not been good for his wounds, and the ten-minute shower after the performance had not been enough to prevent some fresh bleeding.

But that was to be expected. Some of his cuts were narrow but appeared deep.

What was unexpected, however, was his insistence that he was fine. He would just put the eye patch on and head right back out.

“Do you have any idea,” you scolded as you forcefully sat him down on the counter next to the sink in the bathroom of the venue, “what sort of problems I’d have if these got infected?”

You brought the cotton swab over the scrapes above his cheek, and he gritted his teeth as the antiseptic burned his skin. “It sounds like it’d be me who would have problems.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Maybe even sepsis. But I could get sued for not doing my job.”

“Hmm. And if I die?”

“Then I’d have a funeral to plan on top of that, too.”

He snorted and rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry my death would inconvenience you so much.”

“It would,” you said, pulling back. “So, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t die, seeing as I already have a lot to do.”

He grinned, always thrilled to tease you back. However, this time, he took the opportunity when you weren’t looking at him to ask, “how are you feeling?”

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, equally as determined to insist that you were okay and that the last two days hadn’t happened.

“I’m fine, of course,” you said.

“Of course,” he repeated dryly.

“I really mean it,” you said as you struggled to open the glass bottle of ointment. Jungkook had informed you earlier that the nurses at the hospital ‘had used something similar’ when he went there the other day, so you felt a bit more confident about this procedure. “I got eight hours of sleep two nights in a row. That’s unheard of.”

“I’m glad,” he said.

You finally got the bottle to open. Jungkook frowned and drew back.

“Well, can you be glad without moving?” you asked, approaching him with the ointment and a few cotton pads. You’d hoped the antiseptic had soaked into his skin by now. You didn’t have time to wait.

“Is that even necessary?” he asked, pouting and pulling his head back until he hit the mirror behind him. “This stings like a bitch.”

You were nearly leaning over him with all your weight to reach his face. One of your palms pressed into his thigh as you fought to keep your balance, and Jungkook stilled, but did not shut up.

“T-the cuts are not getting infected,” he insisted. He paused and bit into his lip ring when you exhaled and he discovered that he could feel your breath against his cheek. As soon as he realised that he didn’t actually pass out for a minute there, he continued, “do I really need bandages if I wear the eye patch? I personally think I’m—”

“You’re sweating under it,” you cut him off, your eyes narrowed in concentration as you traced the cuts on his cheekbone with the pad. You continued to speak distractedly, “and it’s a rental, in any case. You can’t put that on a bare wound.”

He blinked and jerked his head to the side, nearly causing you to topple over him.

“Jungkook, come on—”

“It’s a rental?” he repeated, his face twisted in a comical expression of disbelief. “How—how do you mean?”

You sighed. You shouldn’t have let that slip.

“I’m sure they disinfect the costumes after they’re returned, so, don’t worry about that,” you said. “Now please—”

“It’s part of a costume?!” he shouted, but you grabbed the back of his neck with your free hand to keep him in place. He felt a sudden shiver ripple down his spine. “Wait, w-what—a-am I a joke to you?”

The corners of your lips quivered as you tried to resist a smirk. You dabbed the cotton pad onto the bruise around his eye and did not speak until you finished applying the ointment to every cut and scrape you could see.

“No,” you said then. “You’re not very funny.”

Locked in place by your cold hands on the back of his neck, Jungkook realised he did not have any reflexes left whatsoever. He did not have much of anything, to be honest, aside from a severe case of hot, violent wings in his stomach.

“Not very f—I’ll—oh, I’ll show you funny,” he finally managed.

He grabbed your wrist, halting your movements. Surprised—and, honestly, amused—you tried to pull back from him, but found yourself trapped in his grip as he jumped off the counter.

You pressed your lips together to stifle a laugh. He tried very hard to glare at you, but his lips were pursed in an obvious attempt not to smile back and his cheeks were tinted with the softest shade of pink.

A part of you was glad, actually, that he was restraining you right now because you weren’t sure if you would have found it in yourself to resist the urge to bring your hand over his flushed cheeks.

After a loaded minute, Jungkook finally released you and shook his head, turning his back to you in a dramatic demonstration of defiance.

“Jungkook,” you said. He could hear the playful lilt in your voice. “Come on, sit down. I’m almost done.”

“I’m wearing a pirate costume!” he protested.

“You’re not wearing a costume. It’s just an eye patch. Sit down.”

He shook his head again, but turned around, mustering as much irritation as he could. You were smiling and he was hardly capable of being angry about that.

“I look like Jack Sparrow’s long-lost, half-blind cousin,” he accused half-heartedly.

He looked almost scandalised when you laughed at this.

“You wish,” you teased, peeling off the adhesive tape from the new bandages that Namjoon was kind enough to buy earlier in the day.

“Excuse me?” Jungkook raised his eyebrows. “Now you’re going to tell me I’m not good enough to be related to Jack Sparrow?”

You were glad he did not move when you approached him again and carefully applied the adhesive pad to his bruises.

“That’s Captain Jack Sparrow,” you said.

He glowered, but his image crumbled the second he saw your grin.

“You nerd,” he said, breaking off into a soft laugh. His eyes were fixed on you as you gently tapped the edges of the bandages to make sure they stayed in place.

“Hey, now,” you warned, pulling back to give him a look that was about as stern as your tentative touch. “You’re the one who forced me to watch the films.”

Jungkook felt his smile spread—impossibly so. He thought he looked a little like one-eyed Joker now as he remembered watching films in your dorm room. He remembered how the two of you had complained about the slow wi-fi, which kept reducing the film quality to 240p. Remembered pretending not to cry when one half of the couple in the film died. Remembered getting distracted by the look in your eyes as you got immersed in the plot. Remembered kissing you. Remembered making you smile as you gently pushed his chest away and told him to ‘look at the screen.’

And then he remembered where he was now, and the dim bathroom brightened under your smile as you packed up your medical kit.

“Hey, so, um…” He swallowed, watching you walk away to dispose of the waste. “Can we talk, then? Later?”

Your head was still heavy, and you had a startling realisation that the only time the weight on your shoulders lightened was when you were with Jungkook—when you were smiling at each other like middle-schoolers on a clumsy first date.

“We’ll talk,” you said while trying to quiet down your thoughts that insisted that this moment here was a sign. That this was the decision. “When the time is right.”

Jungkook looked almost ready to protest, but then he realised you were teasing him for having said the same thing to you before.

He remembered how that conversation went—he remembered everything and with such clarity that his palms tingled and his heart pounded.

“3 AM, then?” he asked, grinning. “Will you come find me?”

You smiled back. “I’ll come find you.”

When the members of Rated Riot returned backstage after meeting fans, the drinks had already been finished. Everyone was leaving for the bus.

Jungkook knew better than to stay in the dressing room by himself—despite having banned Sid from his shows and being across the continent from him—so he asked Taehyung to wait for him.

Then, as he was unplugging his charger by the bathroom door, his phone vibrated with a text message—from Jude, of all people. Throughout their friendship, Jungkook didn’t think Jude had ever texted him personally, and not in their groupchat.

The text read, “come outside to the smoking area? Sid is fuming bc he can’t enter the venue.. gotta talk.”

Right away, Jungkook felt a sense of unease in the pit of his stomach.

He’d kicked Sid out in Cologne. What the fuck was he doing in Manchester?

For a brief moment, Jungkook toyed with the possibility of saying he was busy. He did have to return to the bus in case you would look for him, after all. However, he knew that not answering Sid’s call—because, really, Jude was just the proxy here—could have ugly consequences.

Why’d he fly to the UK? What was wrong with him?

It wasn’t that Jungkook felt afraid of him. He was annoyed more than anything—he’d blacklisted Sid, and still couldn’t escape him.

But Jungkook was afraid of the impact that his inescapable connection to Sid could have on you and your relationship.

“You know what?” he said, raising his head to look at Taehyung. “Maybe you should go ahead without me. There’s something I need to take care of first.”

Taehyung glanced at the younger member’s phone, then back at his face. “You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s nothing,” Jungkook said as he typed back a “K” to Jude. “It’ll just be a second.”

Taehyung merely shrugged. This reaction was so casual that Jungkook automatically assumed it to mean that the older member was going back to the bus.

“I can wait then,” Taehyung said instead.

Jungkook did a surprised double-take before he put his phone away. He realised suddenly that he was embarrassed for Taehyung to witness whatever would happen in the smoking area.

“No, it’s—I have to talk to Jude,” he said, hoping that the name would deter him, but the older boy stood his ground even more firmly.

“All the more reason for me to stay with you,” he said, making it clear that one black eye was already too much.

Jungkook knew they could continue to argue about this while Sid raged outside the venue. And he knew that if he refused Taehyung’s company again, the older boy might seek you out instead.

“Okay,” Jungkook decided. “That’s fine. You can wait here. Jude’s right outside in the smoking area, so—”

“Great,” Taehyung said, taking the first step towards the door of the dressing room. “I’ll come with.”

Jungkook watched him open the door. “Why? For the fresh air?”

His bandmate gave him a sarcastic half-smile. “To make sure you won’t need a whole blindfold for your performance tomorrow.”

Aware that he’d been outwitted, Jungkook rolled his eyes and left the dressing room with a protective Taehyung following behind him.

Sid, Jude, and Minjun were all gathered in the smoking area. Sid and Jude were standing tall—with Sid towering over the other boys, of course—while Minjun looked more like he was crouching. His eyes were downcast, and his posture reflected his wish to be anywhere but here.

Fortunately, Mick, the head of security, was there, too.

“What’s going on here?” Jungkook asked, his voice surprisingly firm—as if these people had never been his friends.

“This gentleman refuses to leave,” Mick reported, casting a scornful glance at Sid. Sid, in turn, responded by raising his middle finger. “I think that calling the police will resolve this issue faster.”

Jungkook would have loved to see Sid in the back of a police car.

But he was worried that this would only cause you more problems with the label. The executives were okay with Rated Riot embodying the rockstar stereotypes, but they probably wouldn’t approve of any police involvement.

On the other hand... why not get rid of Sid once and for all? If he continued to preach his truth without listening to anyone else, it might do him good to spend the night at the station. And if he was high, too, or happened to have something on him—both were likely, Jungkook decided when he glanced at the pockets of Sid’s puffy jacket—then he might stay in a cell for a while longer.

“Give me a minute, Mick, please,” Jungkook asked, taking out his phone. He’d decided to try to handle this quietly, but he still wanted the option of calling the police.

Mick looked at Taehyung for confirmation—which irked Jungkook, because he didn’t like being reminded of his young age and relative lack of authority here.

After Taehyung nodded, the bodyguard turned back to the vocalist.

“Alright,” Mick said. “I’ll be right inside.”

Minjun raised his eyes suddenly, and Jungkook expected to see relief on his face. He saw anxiety instead. Minjun regretted that Jungkook was getting involved again.

After Mick left, Sid finally stepped into the light from the neon sign above the exit. Immediately, Jungkook started to feel more confident about his eye patch, because Sid’s face was red, black, and blue, and so swollen that he could have auditioned for the role of the pumpkin in Cinderella.

“You have one minute to state your business and get your ass out of here,” Jungkook told him. “Or I’m calling the cops.”

Sid scoffed. Challenged by the doubt in his eyes, Jungkook unlocked his phone.

“I’ll pretend I don’t know that you’ve blacklisted me,” Sid snapped, ignoring Taehyung’s presence—which was alarming, because that had never happened before. Sid typically only showed his true self to those closest to him. Or to total strangers. “But it has come to my attention that Minjun broke the rules of the bet, and I can’t ignore that.”

Of course, Jungkook thought. Of course, he would follow him to a different country, even after their fight. Sid thought they had unfinished business.

“Technically,” Minjun said, “the rules don’t apply to me, seeing as I’m—”

“Seeing as you’re the one supposed to enforce the fucking rules,” Sid finished for him, feral rage dripping from every single word he spoke. “What should I make of that, hm? You’re picking sides?”

“I’m not—”

“Your parents won’t like that, I’m sure,” Sid added because he couldn’t help but always assert his dominance with veiled threats.

Minjun clenched his jaw. He remembered the repulsion in your eyes when he told you about this earlier. He felt himself gain strength from your reaction.

“Grow some balls,” he rasped, “and keep our parents out of the shit that you pull. We’re not in kindergarten.”

Sid narrowed his eyes and took a threatening step closer to him.

Meanwhile, Jude leaned over Jungkook to provide an unnecessary explanation, “Sid knows Minjun gave you back the keys.”

Jude smelled of booze and of something intentionally sweet. Ignoring him, Jungkook kept his gaze on Sid.

“It’s just a bet, dude,” Jungkook said before Sid decided to raise a fist. Minjun had never fought anyone before. Jungkook didn’t like his friend’s odds. “Let it go.”

Sid turned his head in what seemed like dramatic slow motion.

If there was a worse thing that Jungkook could have said, he hadn’t found it yet—Sid looked about ready to bite his head straight off and tear it into little pieces before feeding the remains to baby cheetahs or whatever scavengers he undoubtedly raised in the backyard of his family’s mansion.

“That narrative works out awfully well in your favour, doesn’t it?” Sid sneered. “Considering you walk out of here with the girl, after all, hmm?”

“The girl,” Jungkook countered, “was mine to begin with.”

Sid laughed, throwing his head back. “You were ready to give her up for a game just a few weeks ago!”

Jungkook clenched his fists. He couldn’t help but notice that it was “the girl” in particular that Sid brought up as unfair.

Taehyung watched the younger boy’s body language. He knew what might happen next: Jungkook had nothing to say to that, so he seemed intent on shifting the conversation to a more physical level. A level that would likely result in more black eyes and knocked-out teeth.

God, when did he and Luna become babysitters?

He let out a sigh and took a step forward. “We should go, Jungkook. The bus is leaving soon.”

Grounded by his voice, Jungkook glanced at the older member. Taehyung nodded and Jungkook took a deep breath to relax his muscles. He turned around.

There was no point to any of this. He had nothing left to prove to Sid.

“Oh, that’s right,” Sid called out as soon as Jungkook started to walk away. “You don’t have shit to say, so you leave. Fucking typical. Once a loser, always a loser.”

Like any rational person, Taehyung groaned and opened his mouth to suggest calling the police since Sid clearly didn’t want to go away quietly.

But the older member wasn’t able to react quickly enough when Jungkook suddenly whipped around and marched back towards Sid, his expression not just determined, but downright murderous.

Minjun widened his eyes and stepped into the gap between the two boys.

“Drop it, Sid,” he said, facing away from Jungkook. His voice sounded nervous, but he pushed Sid’s chest to prompt him to take a step back.

Sid stepped back—and then took another step to give the impression that he had pulled away voluntarily.

“Why should I be the one to drop it?” he demanded.

“Because you’re the only one who still cares about it,” Minjun said.

“And I’m one part of the bet,” Sid argued. “So, it’s hardly fair, isn’t it? I won the bike.”

Jungkook calmed down when he lost sight of Sid. Instead, he noted that Jude hadn’t objected once.

Technically, three people had made the bet, but Jude seemed to consider himself part of Sid now. Or he simply didn’t care about being involved anymore.

Taehyung lingered by the door, keeping quiet as Minjun handled the unfolding situation.

It was difficult not to say anything, however, because they seemed keen on having a discussion here, yet no one was bringing up the thing that seemed the most obvious to Taehyung: the real reason why Sid cared about the Katana so much, considering that he could have easily bought twenty of them if he wanted.

Just then, Jungkook chuckled sardonically.

“You just want to win for the sake of winning,” he said, giving Minjun a grateful pat on the back and stepping out from behind him.

Taehyung was taken aback by the statement. He had assumed—perhaps unfairly—that Jungkook would resort to violence to make his point. He wasn’t expecting the younger boy to voice everything that he’d been thinking.

“You don’t care about the bike,” Jungkook continued. “You just want me to suffer. Or—oh, that’s right. She’s the one that you really want. That’s what this is about, isn’t it?”

Everyone in this empty lot behind the building, including the stray cat that monitored the scene from across the street while licking its paw, watched Sid hesitate.

Probably for the first time in his life, Sid was confronted with the unexpected increase in his heartbeat.

He scoffed. Then scoffed again. Then once more, so that everyone and their mothers would understand that he found the accusation ridiculous.

And everyone understood, really. But Sid’s fidgeting wasn’t making the point he thought it was.

“I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re implying,” he retorted. “I’ve—I always get what I want. Why the fuck would I play games about—I never fucking grovel for girls. I don’t care how hot they are—”

“Right. But not this time, hm?” Jungkook countered. “You couldn’t get what you wanted, so now you’re doing everything you can to make sure I don’t either. You want to make us both miserable.”

Sid was embarrassed, Minjun realised as he watched his jaw tighten. He was utterly humiliated that someone would accuse him of having a crush.

“No. No, that was you. You made yourself miserable,” Sid deflected. “I had no part in that.”

How pathetic, Jungkook thought—but there was a satisfied smirk on his lips. He’d seen through Sid. And he’d forced him to lose his composure. Forced him to defend himself.

Jungkook remembered your description of Sid’s appearance last night; namely the comparison to a sewer rat—which was, honestly, very unfair for the rodent in question—and couldn’t hold himself back.

“Seeing your face every day actually brings me nothing but misery,” he said to Sid, “so you can’t escape the blame there.”

Taehyung looked away and puckered his lips to hide his reaction to the immature remark. Even he had to give a point to Jungkook here. Childish or not, it was clever enough to make Sid squint his eyes and hesitate once more.

“Don’t change the subject,” Sid said, which made Jungkook smile wider. “You broke the bet. The bike is mine.”

Minjun cut in with a groan.

“Sid, for fuck’s sake,” he said, tired of listening to the same thing over and over—and over—again. “It’s just a bet, so just fucking drop it. We’ll pay off the Katana if you care so much—”

“No.” Jungkook reached out a hand to touch Minjun’s shoulder, cutting him off. He glared at Sid. “You know what? You can keep the fucking keys to the bike,” he said as he pulled the keychain from his pocket, removed it, and tossed the keys roughly at Sid’s chest. The older boy scrambled to catch them. “Choke on them for all I care.”

Despite the venom in his words, Jungkook did not lose the sneering smile, and Sid’s eye twitched when he looked at him.

It didn’t feel satisfying when he held the motorcycle keys, but Jungkook was the one who looked like he won.

Jungkook turned away before Sid could come up with another mocking comment to make him stay, and headed towards Taehyung, who looked a little confounded.

The bassist needed a moment to process that the conversation had ended because Jungkook had decided it was over.

Taehyung felt quite proud of him, and when Jungkook looked at him, he reached out to tousle his hair affectionately. Jungkook backed away from his touch with a groan but still gave him a grateful look.

Instead of entering the venue, Taehyung led Jungkook to the side of the building, gesturing at the pack of cigarettes he had in his pocket.

A puzzled Minjun caught up with them a moment later.

“Why did you do that?” he asked while Jungkook turned to watch Sid and Jude walk away—both of them looked a little awkward, like they weren’t sure if the show they’d started was really over. “Why did you give him the keys?”

“He can keep the bike,” Jungkook said. “He’s never getting anything that really matters anyway.”

Minjun and Taehyung exchanged a look. They had both heard Sid stumble over his words earlier. They could tell that Sid had hoped the bet would end with Jungkook losing you, and not just the motorcycle.

Minjun still wasn’t sure if Sid’s actions were motivated by his wish to make Jungkook suffer, or if he really had feelings for you.

But he supposed it didn’t even matter anymore. Jungkook seemed ready to go to war for you either way.

“So, what—what are you going to do?” Minjun asked.

Jungkook shrugged and stuffed his hands into his now-empty pockets.

“It’s too late to do anything,” he said, smiling at his friend. “There’ll be other bikes. I don’t—it’s not what I’m worried about.”

Minjun nodded. He knew Jungkook wasn’t thinking about Sid actually trying to make a move on you. You’d snap his neck if he tried, and leave his body for the crows and pigeons to enjoy. Everyone knew it, and they would have wholeheartedly supported your reaction.

No, what Jungkook was really worried about was that Sid might have already done irreparable damage to your relationship. Minjun had hoped to help Jungkook by talking to you, but he wasn’t sure if it was any help at all.

“Good riddance,” Taehyung said slowly. “Sid, I mean.”

“Oh, yeah,” Minjun agreed right away. “Fuck him.”

“I can’t believe he’s here, though,” Jungkook said. He turned back to make sure that Sid had really left. “You think he’ll come to Glasgow, too, just to fuck with me?”

“Honestly, he might,” Minjun admitted. “He’s got the bike, but he can tell he didn’t actually win. He might want to retaliate.”

Jungkook groaned. Despite his hopes, he feared that Minjun was right.

“What can he do, though?” Taehyung asked, taking out the Marlboro pack from the pocket of his oversized leather jacket. “He’s alone.”

“Yeah.” Minjun pointed at him in agreement. “It’ll be a while before he finds someone who will follow his orders.”

“Well,” Jungkook said as Taehyung passed his cigarettes to both boys, “Jude might.”

“Jude can’t wipe his own ass unless he’s high as a kite,” Minjun said—his vowels softened by the cigarette between his lips. “I’m fucking pissed that he left with Sid, but—I mean, there’s nothing we can do.”

Taehyung opened his engraved Zippo lighter with a crisp click. He lit his own cigarette, then did the same for Jungkook and Minjun.

“If he shows his face anywhere near us again, I’m calling the cops,” Jungkook decided, shakily inhaling the smoke. “Tonight was the last time. I gave up the bike. I don’t care whether he thinks that’s enough. There’s nothing that he can hold against me anymore. We’re done.”

Minjun smiled at this.

Truth be told, he felt a little giddy from the significance of this moment. He’d never spent any time with Jungkook’s bandmates, and he knew it was because of Sid. Taehyung would not have offered them cigarettes if the obnoxious menace had been here, so this moment felt a bit like the start of something new. Something better.

Minjun exhaled the smoke while Jungkook confessed, “I don’t know what it’ll be like with him gone, though.”

Taehyung scoffed so vehemently that the smoke from his cigarette nearly got caught in his throat.

“I know,” he said. “Better.”

Minjun smirked and Jungkook nodded in agreement, but he still looked a little pale and wide-eyed as he toyed with the cigarette between his fingers.

“We’ll be fine,” Minjun promised. “Might get bored much faster because Sid won’t be here to think of ways we could kill ourselves, but honestly, I’ll take it.”

“Yeah, no—definitely.” Jungkook tried to smile, but there was something else on the tip of his tongue. He took a deep drag and slowly blew out the smoke before speaking. “This is, um—kind of weird, I guess. I don’t think I’ve ever said this to you, but, uh—thank you. For being… for being yourself.”

Taehyung looked away, exhaling smoke into the parking lot to give the two boys more privacy without actually walking away from them.

Minjun was smiling, too. “Who else would I be?”

“You could have tried to be Sid,” Jungkook pointed out.

“Fuck no.”

They both laughed, and Taehyung stopped trying so hard to hide his smile.

For a minute, Sid’s absence was very palpable and it felt absolutely blissful.

“You’re welcome,” Minjun said, just when Taehyung offered, “another one?”

He pulled out another cigarette for himself and passed the rest to Minjun. While the two of them lit up another round, Jungkook finished his first one.

He was restless all of a sudden. This tended to happen to him, especially lately—the longer he was away from you, the harder it was not to think of you.

You’d told him you’d find him so you could talk.

What if you were looking for him? And he was wasting his time dealing with Sid’s temper tantrums again?

“I’m going to go,” he announced to the other boys as soon as the thought crossed his mind. He dropped the cigarette and stepped on it, twisting the sole of his shoe to put it out. “If those two come back, knock them out or call the police, I don’t care. I’ll see you on the bus, yeah?”

Taehyung chuckled, much calmer to let Jungkook wander off on his own now that he’d seen Sid leave with his own eyes.

“Sure,” he said, blowing smoke out. “You’ll be alright?”

“Yeah. I think so.”

As he walked towards the door, Jungkook remembered what you’d told him in Stockholm. You’d been right back then.

If he surrounded himself with people who genuinely cared about him, he would have enough voices to keep his mind calm. He would have someone to call if he was alone.

He would be okay.

Jungkook came to a sudden stop in the corridor when he heard your voice inside Rated Riot’s dressing room. The door was ajar, and he could see your profile as you leaned against the dressing table and talked to someone. He bent down to listen and recognised Luna’s voice in there, too.

“Did Nick text you again?” Luna was asking you. “After that time on the bus?”

Naturally, Jungkook froze on the other side of the door.

He didn’t mean to eavesdrop, really.

But who in the great fuck was Nick?

As quietly as he could under the circumstances—his heart had flat-lined for a second or two before breaking into the most passionate beating he’d ever experienced—Jungkook stepped to the side so you wouldn’t spot him through the gap in the door, and strained to listen.

“Yeah,” you replied with a sigh. Were you always this quiet when you spoke, or was he going deaf from his rapid heartbeat? “He texted me this morning. I didn’t reply, I was—well, with Jungkook.”

Now, Jungkook thought as he paled to match the plaster on the walls of the corridor, what—the absolute fuck—was that supposed to mean?

“But, uh, he said he’d like to arrange a formal meeting with me,” you continued, and the dressing table creaked as you moved away from it, “when he comes back from Australia with Reconnaissance.”

The terrified lightbulb at the end of the corridor flickered erratically as Jungkook frowned.

Nick Zhou—your supervisor at your first internship after graduation—returned to his memory. Jungkook had heard enough to understand that Nick managed Reconnaissance now.

That probably meant that you weren’t seeing anyone else. But Jungkook wasn’t sure if he was relieved by this.

“Are you going to go to this meeting?” Luna asked.

Good question, Jungkook thought. And then, immediately after—please say no. Please say no. Please say no.

“I… I don’t know. I think I should,” you said. Jungkook dug his nails into the pillows of his palms. “All our conversations about this had been over the phone, you know? I think it might be good to hear him out properly, face-to-face.”

“So, you’re really considering this then, huh?” Luna said.

You were quiet for a very long time.

Jungkook measured each second of your silence in the beats of his heart: bang-bang-bang, one, bang-bang-bang, two, bang-bang-bang, three.

“I guess I am,” you finally said. “N-not because I suddenly decided I don’t want to work with Rated Riot anymore. I just—well, in light of everything that happened, I think that hearing Nick out just seems like a… reasonable thing to do.”

Jungkook decided he’d heard enough.

He thought he knew what you would say next. He knew what happened. He knew what this “everything” was.

His immaturity. His constant dependence on you.

His tendency to fail at everything that he tried to do for you.

His inability to prove that he deserved another chance with you.

Finally, the bet.

So, there it was, then. He’d always been terrified of letting you down, and he did that anyway.

Exhaling shakily, Jungkook turned around and crossed the corridor toward the main exit where the tour bus was parked.

You were supposed to talk. Now he wasn’t sure if he’d find what to say.

If Jungkook hadn’t walked away, however—if he’d stayed for a minute longer—he would have heard what Taehyung caught as he returned to the dressing room, biting on the filter of a new cigarette.

“If it really came down to it, then—you know,” you were saying, “I-I couldn’t be with him, and still be his manager at the same time.”

The door creaked.

“Oh.” Taehyung stopped in the doorway, not sure if he was more surprised by your words or by the unexpected noise from the door. “Sorry, am I—? I can leave.”

You had been cleaning up backstage when Luna joined you after she lost track of Taehyung. That made you realise that you hadn’t seen him or Jungkook in a while. But now that Taehyung was here, the two of you looked at him as if you had never seen him before in your lives.

The expression on Taehyung’s face was not at all ambiguous. He knew what he’d just heard. You hadn’t used Jungkook’s name, but he was everywhere in this room and in your eyes.

Noting your expression and the way the can of beer in your hands began to tremble, Luna slid off the couch and walked over to her boyfriend.

“We were looking for you!” she exclaimed with far more anger than she actually felt. “Where were you?”

“I was—Jungkook and I just—we stepped outside for a second,” he said as he pulled his cigarette out of his mouth and tucked it behind his ear. “Sorry.”

“You could have texted,” Luna said, her voice rushed. She glanced at you over her shoulder. “We were just about to head back to the bus, weren’t we? That’s what we were discussing.”

“Right,” Taehyung said. “Well, I didn’t hear anything else.”

God, you thought. The three of you were the main cast in a poorly scripted tragicomedy all of a sudden.

“Yeah, we should go,” you said, hoping that the warmth you felt all over your body didn’t show on your face—it didn’t. But your panicked gaze still gave you away. “We’re leaving in half an hour. Is he on the bus?”

Again, the pronoun that did not need an explanation—Taehyung nodded right away.

“Yeah, he—he was on his way there,” he said.

“Okay,” you replied. “You can go. I’ll pack the rest of our things first.”

“We’ll help,” Luna offered. “You need to rest as much as possible.”

You were afraid she would say that. But she and Taehyung began to gather the empty paper cups and the staff members’ forgotten phones before you could object.

Stunned momentarily, you realised—like Jungkook had before—that you were surrounded by people who loved you.

And you were afraid, suddenly, to lose this if you left to work with Reconnaissance. Just like you were afraid of what would happen between you and Jungkook if you didn’t leave.

The hopelessness of the situation stayed with Jungkook as he got on the bus.

He chose not to wait for you, and instead went to the mini-fridge to find Jack Daniels. And while looking for that, he also befriended Jim Beam and Johnnie Walker. Jose Cuervo was, sadly, already almost empty.

When you opened the door of the bus half an hour later—surprised (and a little concerned) to see that it was empty—Jungkook was already feeling a pleasant buzz. He wasn’t quite drunk, but he definitely wasn’t sober as he stumbled a little while trying to climb out of his bunk and stretch his legs outside before the trip.

The alcohol had dulled the pain a little—as it was notorious for doing—but he still flinched when he saw the door open and heard your voice outside the bus.

“You need help standing?” you asked—louder than he had anticipated—and he spun on his axis, gripping the stair railing to steady himself.

He was happy to see you. And so tremendously hurt.

“Nope,” he said, licking his lips. “I’m perfect.”

“Where’s everyone else?” you asked.

“Flat tire,” Jungkook mumbled, slurring the consonants as he joined you outside the bus. “Driver said we’d be here for another hour. He doesn’t have a spare. Everyone else went—for a smoke, I don’t know.”

His eye patch had slid off and was caught in his messy hair. But the bandages around his eye had remained in place.

His scent was whiskey, but the look in his eyes was sober pain.

You were a little afraid of him like this because you didn’t know what he would tell you next.

“Mmhm,” you said. “And, uh—how come we’re drinking tonight?”

“Ah.” He chuckled. “We have our reasons.”

You waited for him to continue by counting the dark pebbles under your shoes. He leaned his back against the metal railing of the bus steps and gave you a long look.

“Sid’s here,” he said.

You looked up, aghast. Terror was the first thing you felt, and aggravation followed shortly after.

“What?” you questioned. “How?”

“He followed me to Manchester for the Katana,” Jungkook explained. “Minjun had given me back the keys, and Sid found out about it.”

“I thought you had—”

“I had,” he confirmed. He’d triple-checked with Mick to make sure Sid was really banned. “He couldn’t enter the venue, so Jude texted me to come outside. Mick suggested calling the police.”

You liked Mick. Everyone did. He was the quiet backbone of this entire tour.

But you didn’t like that Jungkook seemed to disagree with Mick’s suggestion.

“Why didn’t you?” you asked slowly. You thought you understood why Jungkook decided to finish off the most expensive bottles of whiskey that you had on the bus. Sid’s unexpected reappearance was a good reason to drink.

“I would have,” he said. “But I gave Sid the keys and he left. He’s got no reason to come back now. We’re done.”

You appreciated the cold wind on your face, because learning that Jungkook had given up his Katana willingly—to get Sid off his back for good—was painful. It felt heavy in your chest and in your lungs.

“Oh,” you managed.

“I really mean it. If he decides to show his face again despite that, I’m—I’m letting Mick handle it,” Jungkook promised. “He can call the cops or do whatever else he wants. Sid wanted to win the bet, well, he won it. I’m not going to see him again. I really mean it.”

His voice grew in volume despite getting hoarse. He was so distressed that he was nearing hysteria.

It occurred to you that he thought you would blame him for this. Like it was his fault that Sid was so dedicated to his craft of being a pest that he travelled across Europe for it.

“I’m not saying one word to him ever again,” Jungkook continued, all his words coming out in one breath. “I’m—I’m done. I swear. I’m not going—”

“I know,” you cut in softly before his panicked rambling could get worse. “I believe you.”

“I—” he stopped. His face regained some liveliness. “Thank you.”

“Is that your reason for drinking?” you asked, even though, deep down, you knew it wasn’t. “I thought we were supposed to talk.”

“I thought so, too,” he said, then inhaled sharply and plopped down on the bottom step, banging his thigh against the metal railing and wincing in pain. “Shit. But then I thought—I thought I’d rather get drunk than have my heart shattered. So here we are.”

Your stomach plummeted and the muscles all over your body jolted awake.

“What—what are you talking about?” you asked, looking around. Taehyung and Luna wanted to grab some snacks at the corner shop across the street, but you were still worried they’d catch you here.

Jungkook rested his head against the door frame.

“I’m... really, I’m tired of everything,” he said with a sigh. “I shouldn’t have messed around. I should have been honest with you about—about everything right away.”

You leaned your hip against the side of the bus. You appreciated him talking to you now, but you both knew that this hadn’t always been the case.

“You... should have been,” you concurred awkwardly.

“But I wasn’t,” he finished. “And now I’m too tired to keep trying. To keep knocking on a—the door is closed. Locked. I get it. You say you believe me, but I know the truth. I really fucked up. Not just with the—with the bet. I never treated you right. You do so much. You take care of everyone in your life.” He paused to take a breath. “And I’ve always been another fucking burden. I won’t—I won’t be that anymore. You won’t need to take care of me anymore. I promise.”

You looked at him with a worried wrinkle between your brows. “Jungkook, I’m your manager—”

“You’re my everything,” he cut you off and brought goosebumps to the surface of your skin. “But I’ve been fucking awful to you. You deserve so much better. I’m so—I’m so sorry. I have no right to—to expect you to come back to me. B-but I want to show you that I can be different. I want to show you the guy that I am without Sid. You know that guy. You know what he’s like. I want to show him to you again.”

You swallowed as your eyes drifted from his face to the rough gravel under your shoes, to the door of the venue, and eventually settled on your own crossed arms.

You felt tired, too, but this wasn’t what you were expecting to hear from him. You wondered what brought this on so suddenly.

“I really don’t want you to leave,” he continued. You straightened, realising what this was about. “But I… I understand if you will. I’ve always been selfish when it comes to you, but if I want—I want you to see that I’m growing. And because of that, I can’t hold you back.”

Your heart was beating too much, too intensely, too desperately for you to respond.

It felt—and, evidently, your heart realised it before your brain did—like Jungkook was making the decision about the rest of your life for you. A decision that you didn’t want to make.

“It’s over,” he said. “I get it. But the band loves you. We need you. You’re our—we’re nothing without you. We’re not Rated Riot. But we—the guys wouldn’t force you to stay. And I know I can’t do that, either. So, if leaving the band is the right choice for you… then you should go. You should always do what’s best for you. I wish I was what was best for you, but I’m not. Actually, I don’t think there’s anyone who would be good enough for you in my eyes, but—”

“Jungkook, please,” you finally whispered—the words painful on your numb tongue.

“Right, sorry,” he pulled back. You were afraid that if you closed your eyes, you wouldn’t be able to hear him anymore. “What I mean is, you deserve the best, and I’m so fucking far from it. I love you so much, but I don’t know if that’s enough. I just—I want you to know that if you decide to stay with us, I’ll never let you down again. But if you choose to go… I-I would understand. Ultimately, it’s your choice, as it should be.”

He stopped talking and allowed the night to fill the silence.

You didn’t know what was going to happen next.

He’d told you a lot over the past few days. He brought back a lot of memories, a lot of mistakes. And now he was taking action, too, to make sure to fix those mistakes. To make sure he didn’t repeat them.

He made a bet with Sid.

And this bet tried to prove that he still hadn’t changed, that his friends were still his main priority. But he black-listed Sid from Rated Riot’s shows and gave up his bike to make sure Sid didn’t come back.

The bet tried to prove that the two of you still couldn’t communicate. But he told you everything that he had been too afraid to say in your relationship.

The bet tried to prove that he didn’t really care about you. But he stayed with you when you were feeling your best and when you were at your most vulnerable.

The bet tried to prove that he only cared about himself. But after telling you how much he loved you, he was letting you go.

Again and again and again his words echoed in your head.

The determined I’ll be here, and the tentative It’s a song about my favourite thing in the world.

The terrified I can’t lose you, and the confident I’ll always love you.

You didn’t want to believe him when he had told you he loved you—and that was what this was about.

You were afraid of what it would mean—of what would happen—if all that there was to it, if all that hid under your uncertainty, was just your love for each other.

Minjun had made a reasonable point when he asked whether you were upset about the bet or about Jungkook’s feelings.

Perhaps the bet had quickly turned into an easy excuse not to be together. It was bad, it was awful, it was so terrible—but all it really did was provide a comfortable cover for your own fear and anxiety about him. About yourself. About you, together.

In retrospect, probably the worst repercussion of the bet was that it returned the two of you to the same place you were in before you learned about it. The place where you both wanted each other—so much—but you couldn’t.

As the silence continued to envelop the bus, competing with the night for dominance, it swallowed the sounds of the distant chatter of the people nearby.

You pulled back from the bus. It was time to stand up. Time to go.

“Come on,” you said quietly. “It’s getting cold.”

Jungkook looked at you from the bottom step by the door, and you realised that he’d been wrong that night in Manchester when he said that your favourite thing in the world was the night sky.

It wasn’t.

It was the stars—whole constellations, each formed after a specific moment in life—and the moon, and half of an entire galaxy in his eyes.

It was the way they brightened when he smiled at you, and the way they narrowed when you teased him. It was the way they stilled when he was listening to you speak, and the way they softened when he saw you at every venue. At every practice. Every soundcheck. Every concert. Every hotel. Every empty European street. Every night, and every morning. Year, after year, after year, after—

Your hands trembled as you watched him, realising with a startled burst in your chest that he loved you. He has loved you for as long as you’ve known him.

And against all odds, against all rational thoughts and fateful coincidences, against all wishes upon stars, you realised that you’ve always loved him, too.

“Yeah,” Jungkook said, standing up. “Let’s go.”

chapter title credits: the devil wears prada, “salt”

prev ○ next

[osamiiya]

“But that one’s obvious”

Atsumu x reader

warnings // very suggestive! postcotial discussions. mention of alcohol

summary: Atsumu keeps a bucket list of things he would like to experience in his life.

notes: stares and blinks.

— — —

Atsumu is entirely ungraceful as he flops onto the bed next to you, skin damp with sweat as his chest heaves.

It’s quiet for a moment, the only sounds in the room heavy breathing and the ticking of the clock in your kitchen.

When you realized your crush on the MSBY setter, you hadn’t anticipated his reciprocation, much less the admission that he’s liked you pretty much since you met.

The hookup had also been a spur of the moment thing, the two of you were together at a charity event MSBY was invited to, and you tagged along as his plus-one. The two of you spend the night laughing while sipping cups of water as Bokuto and Hinata made tipsy fools of themselves.

One surprisingly deep conversation later, you found yourself cupping his jaw affectionately and his eyes seemed to flutter shut as you leaned in.

It’s a blur of confessions and clothes and kissing before you find yourself staring up at the ceiling, chest heaving.

“Crossed that off the bucket list.” Atsumu huffs from next to you.

You turn your head to give him a confused look, hair mussing slightly.

“..What?” Your voice is slightly scratchy from your previous activities.

“Making a hot person scream my name in bed.” Atsumu sends a shit eating grin as he wipes at his forehead.

“You’re impossible.” You laugh, head shaking in disbelief.

Atsumu just grins as he goes to collect a rag from your bathroom to clean up with.

“Everyone has one.” He hums as he returns.

His hands are gentle as he cleans you up, eyebrows knitted in concentration as the rag brushes over the panes of your body.

“What’s on it?” You sigh out, relishing in the feeling of being taken care of.

He doesn’t respond as he pulls on his boxers, and finds something for you to wear before flopping next to you on the bed.

“What’s on what?” Atsumu grins, he’s clearly getting a kick out of this. He doesn’t tease further as he lists off some more… intimate, items on his bucket list.

“Are they all sexual?” You snort, pushing him away as he inches further to kiss at your neck.

“Why? Did you want to cross some more off tonight?” You can feel his teeth against your neck as he smiles, laughing slightly.

“Absolutely not, keep your hands off me.”

Atsumu whines dramatically as he places one last kiss on your neck before gathering you in his arms as best he can from his angle.

“I want to try skydiving.” He hums, “And going to the olympics.”

He’s surprisingly thoughtful as he lists off various items on his bucket list, along with a short explanation when you press him for more details. Atsumu’s hand finds yours to hold loosely, thumb drawing languid circles as the two of you just talk.

It’s comfortable, you’ve been friends longer than you’ve been dating. Considering the series of confessions that had only happened earlier that evening.

You can tell Atsumus nearing the end of his mental bucket list when he hesitates and looks you shyly in the face.

“And confessing to you, but I checked that one off.” He hums thoughtfully, he chews on his bottom list as he lists off one last one.

“And treating you well. Dating you for a long time, spending as much time as I can with you.” He smiles fondly, eyes softening.

“But that one’s obvious.” He hums, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

It’s as if the air in your lungs has been sucked out of your body as he speaks, and there’s no stopping the smile that creeps onto your lips.

“That one’s obvious.” You echo softly, eyes searching his.

[puppym3]

um maybe like the opposite of the felix one? where reader is subby? or maybe like changbin and brat!reader,?

｡･ﾟﾟ･ under the table ･ﾟﾟ･｡

-ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛-

dom!changbin x brat!reader

synopsis: you and your boyfriend, changbin, are at a restaurant with the other members. freshly back from a workout, changbin looks irresistibly attractive in a tight shirt that accentuates his toned physique. unable to resist, you let your desire get the better of you, subtly exploring his muscles under the table.

wc: 3k

warnings: MDNI! 18+, bratty needy reader, dom changbin, the reader is horny, reader wants to bite changbin's biceps (me too), teasing, semi-public sex, bondage (restriction with hand), edging, body worship, piv, fingering (f rec.), a lot of dirty talk, reader is called slut, unprotected sex, sex in public bathroom (would not rec...), creampie, (lmk if i missed anything)

a/n: i already have 2 felix fics and no changbin yet, so this is a perfect opportunity to finally write for him <3 ive honestly been dying to write ab him.

idk why but so far this might be my favorite out of all the fics I've written, i hope you guys like it too... ⸝⸝(˵´･⌄･`˵)⸝⸝ ♡

-ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛-

It wasn't a rare occasion that Changbin would invite you out with him, he had just finished his workout and you missed him, so you sent him a quick text asking when he'd be free; that's when he invited you to dinner with him and the boys.

When you got to the restaurant, it was bustling with energy as you and the others settled into your seats. The chatter and laughter of patrons filled the air, blending with the aroma of delicious food.

When you finally saw your boyfriend, your breath was taken by the tight shirt he was wearing. You couldn't help but admire how his shirt clung to his frame, perfectly accentuating his muscles.

Your eyes traced the defined lines of his well-toned biceps and chiseled chest, feeling a warmth spread through you. He looked effortlessly handsome, and you were drawn to him more than ever. As the conversation flowed around the table, you found it increasingly difficult to focus on anything other than the man beside you.

Under the table at the restaurant, you reached out tentatively, your fingers brushing against his thigh. Changbin didn't react at first, too engrossed in a discussion with Bang Chan about their plans coming up. Encouraged by his lack of response, you let your hand travel up, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt.

Changbin's breath hitched, and he turned to you, his eyes widening slightly. You offered him an innocent smile, your fingers still tracing the contours of his biceps. He cleared his throat, shifting in his seat, but he didn't push your hand away.

"What do you think?" Seungmin's voice broke through your thoughts, pulling you back into the conversation.

"Hmm?" you replied, trying to mask your distraction.

"About the dessert menu? Do you have any recommendations?" he repeated, holding out the menu for you to see.

"Oh, right," you said, glancing at the options without really reading them. "The chocolate lava cake is always a good choice."

"I like that one too," Felix chimed in, nodding his agreement. "It's always so gooey and delicious."

You nodded absently, your attention drifting back to Changbin. Your hand was still resting on his thigh, your fingers tracing lazy circles on the fabric of his loose pants. You could feel the tension in his body, the slight tremble of his leg as you explored his body.

He had no idea how badly you wanted to admire his arms up close, to appreciate their strength and size, maybe even take a playful bite of his biceps. But alas, you were in a restaurant with your friends, the true cockblockers, and you had to maintain your composure.

Your eyes flicked up to his face, finding him watching you intently, his eyes looking at you like a warning as if you were passing the red line. Changbin leaned in closer to you, his breath warm against your ear. "What are you doing?" he whispered, his tone a mix of amusement and caution.

"Just fully appreciating the view," you whispered back, giving his bicep a gentle squeeze.

His eyes sparkled with a mix of surprise and delight, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Behave," he murmured, though his tone was far from reprimanding.

"But if my meal is right in front of me, why wouldn't I eat it?" you pouted, keeping your voice low enough for only him to hear.

He laughed at you, before swatting your hand away and putting his hand on the small of your back. "Later, I'll let you feast on me later," he whispered, causing your face to burn up and look at the ground.

You couldn't help but smile as the conversation shifted again, the others oblivious to the exchange between you and Changbin, but you still couldn't keep your eyes off of his body, the remnants of his workout from earlier still on him making your mouth drool.

"You're staring, they're going to notice you." Changbin's voice brought you back to the present, a small smirk on his lips.

"Staring at what?" Your hand slid up to squeeze his arm, "at this?"

He laughed and shook his head, "you're such a brat," he smiled, his voice a soft whisper.

You could only pout at him, wanting nothing more than to run your fingers along the hard planes of his muscles. It wasn't fair that he could look this good after working out.

You couldn't resist imagining the salty taste of his sweat as you trailed your tongue along his glistening arm. Imagining the sensation of your teeth sinking into his skin, leaving a trail of beautiful marks across his sculpted body.

"Stop that," Changbin's voice snapped you out of your thoughts, his hand tightening around yours.

"Stop what?" You gave him an innocent smile, your other hand moving up his arm, squeezing his bicep gently.

"I know that look," his eyes narrowed at you, his gaze intense. "We're in public."

"That's never stopped us before," you replied, letting your fingers trace the lines of his muscles. You couldn't help but lean closer, pressing your lips against his ear. "You don't even have to fuck me, just let me touch you," you whispered, your voice dripping with need.

Changbin's breath hitched and he glanced around the restaurant, making sure the others were still engrossed in their own conversations before turning his attention back to you.

"Do I have to restrain you?" He teased, his voice low.

You couldn't help the excitement that shot through you at the thought, your cheeks flushing. "Would you?"

Changbin laughed, a sound that made your heart skip a beat, his eyes sparkling. "You're a pervert."

You couldn't help but let your mind run, the thought of him restraining you at your wrists while he had his way with you was enough to make your core pulse.

"Changbin," your voice was soft as you leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear. "You know how much I love when you dominate me," you whispered, feeling his breath catch.

"If you keep this up, I might have to do just that," he warned, his hand squeezing at your thigh.

You felt a shiver run down your spine, excitement bubbling up inside you. "I want that," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

Before he could reply, a waiter approached your table, and you reluctantly moved away from Changbin, trying to put on a straight face as the others turned their attention to the waiter.

"Are we ready to order?" the waiter asked, a pleasant smile on his face.

The group started ordering, and you tried to focus on the menu in front of you, but your mind was clouded.

"What can I get for you, miss?" the waiter's voice cut through your thoughts, and you blinked up at him, trying to remember what the others had ordered.

"Uh, the, um, the steak salad," you said, fumbling with the menu.

When the waiter finally left, you breathed a sigh of relief, glad that you hadn't gained any suspicion from the members.

"You're lucky you're cute," Changbin smirked, squeezing your thigh gently. "I can't believe you were trying to start something in the middle of the restaurant."

"Who says I was trying?" You feigned innocence, a smirk playing on your lips.

Changbin just rolled his eyes at you, but the playful smile on his lips told you he wasn't mad.

You couldn't shake the feeling of incompleteness in arousing him, fueling your persistence. You were determined to have your way with him, no matter what.

When the food finally arrived, the group settled into their meals, the conversations flowing easily between the boys.

You didn't want to keep yourself in check, not when the man of your dreams was sitting next to you, his body looking delectable. You had no idea what it was about his post-workout appearance, but you were weak for it.

You grabbed his hand, still resting on your thigh, and brought it under your skirt, laying on the heated skin of your inner thighs.

Changbin choked on his drink, the others glancing at him as he coughed, the heat in his eyes unmistakable.

"You okay, Bin?" You asked sweetly, as you slowly guided his hand to your soaked panties.

Changbin cleared his throat, trying to keep his composure. "I'm fine," he said, his voice strained.

You bit back a smile, enjoying the power you had over him. You watched as his gaze traveled down to where his hand was, the flush on his cheeks deepening.

"Baby?" You whispered, pressing his hand against your dampness, watching as his breath caught in his throat.

"I'm fine," he said, clearing his throat again. He was clearly trying to remain composed, but his fingers were twitching, as if he wanted to touch you.

You smiled, letting your gaze drift over the others, making sure they weren't paying attention before continuing to guide his hand.

"You're so wet," Changbin's voice was a low whisper, and you had to bite back a moan.

"It's all your fault." You murmured, a teasing smile on your lips.

He couldn't help but let his thumb caress your pussy, his fingers lightly massaging you. You let out a soft sigh, biting your lip to hold back a whimper.

You weren't sure how long you could last like this, Changbin's touch was making your entire body hum with pleasure. You needed more, and you needed it now.

"Let's go home," you whispered, leaning into him.

"I won't be able to hold back until then," he replied, his voice strained.

You let out a soft laugh, the thrill of being caught spurring you on. "I'm not asking you to," you murmured, your hand sliding over his growing erection.

Changbin stifled a groan, his eyes fluttering shut as you squeezed his hardness. You couldn't help but smirk, reveling in the power you had over him in that moment.

"Meet me in the bathroom." He said, as he discreetly pulled his hand away from you.

You watched as he stood, excusing himself, his gait a little wobbly. The others didn't seem as he slipped away from the table.

You waited a few moments, your heart pounding as you excused yourself to freshen up, trying to appear nonchalant as you headed to the bathroom.

As soon as the door closed behind you, you felt hands on you, guiding you into one of the stalls.

"You're such a brat," Changbin murmured, his lips finding yours.

"Mm, I'm your brat." You breathed, tugging at his clothes.

"Ah- ah, no touching," he said as he grabbed your hands, holding them above you and squeezing your wrists together his a singular hand. "You're such a slut, you wanted this, didn't you?"

He used his free hand to squeeze at your face as he turned your head, whispering in your ear, "You wanted me to take you right here in this restaurant, huh? In front of everyone? Wanted me to fuck you and fill you up while everyone watches?"

Your breath hitched, a jolt of excitement coursing through you. You were already wet and dripping, aching for his touch.

"Yes," you moaned, grinding your hips against his.

He chuckled, his hand gripping your ass, guiding your movements. "Tell me how bad you want me," he whispered, his lips trailing down your neck.

"So bad, so fucking bad," you breathed, arching into him.

"You want me to fill you up? To stuff you with my cock and fuck you until you're a trembling mess?" He was practically growling now, his grip on your ass tightening.

"Please, please," you whimpered, desperate for him.

He smirked, his hand slipping under your shirt, his fingertips brushing against your bare skin.

You couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips, your hands struggling to break from his hard restraint.

He pulled his hand back, a dark smile on his lips. "No touching. Keep your hands up."

You whined, the heat pooling in your stomach as you watched him unzip his pants, pulling out his thick cock.

"Look at this, just for you, baby. Do you want it?" He murmured, stroking himself.

You could only nod, your mouth watering at the sight of him. He looked delicious, his cock hard and heavy, pre-cum leaking from the tip.

He chuckled, his gaze lingering on your flushed skin and dilated pupils, savoring every detail. "Such a pretty slut," he cooed, his hand reaching out to stroke your cheek.

You couldn't help but melt into his touch, the praise going straight to your head. He grinned, his fingers tangling in your hair, giving it a light tug.

"So good," he murmured, his free hand moving to cup your breast, giving it a firm squeeze.

"More," you breathed, arching into his touch.

He smirked, his fingers finding your nipple, giving it a gentle pinch. You whimpered, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

"So sensitive," he cooed, his touch becoming more insistent, his thumb rubbing circles around your stiff nipple.

You bit back a moan, your hips bucking against him, desperate for more. He chuckled, his grip on your hair tightening, keeping you in place.

"You like that, hmm? You want me to fuck you? To make you cum all over my cock?" His voice was a low growl, and you couldn't help but shudder, his words turning you on even more.

"Please," you begged, your hands struggling against his restraint.

He smiled, his fingers trailing down your stomach, teasing at the hem of your panties. "How badly do you want me?" He asked, his voice low.

"So bad, I need you," you panted, your body trembling with need.

"Good," he murmured, his fingers pushing past the fabric, finding your slick folds.

You gasped, your body tensing as his fingers explored your wetness, the heat building up inside you.

"God, you're soaked," he groaned, his fingers circling your clit, sending shocks of pleasure through your body.

"Yes, yes," you cried out, your hips bucking against his hand, seeking more friction.

He smirked, his thumb pressing down on your sensitive nub, making you see stars.

You moaned, your head falling back, your hands grasping at nothing but air as he kept his other hand restraining your hands.

"Fuck, look at you," he growled, his fingers moving faster, his touch relentless. "Such a good slut, begging for me to fuck you."

You whimpered, the coil in your belly tightening as he brought you closer to the edge.

But then, he suddenly stopped his movements, his hand pulling away from you.

"No, no, no," you whined, desperate for release.

"Didn't you want to cum on my cock?" He smirked, his hand reaching up to grasp your chin.

You could only nod, your gaze fixated on his hard length, his pre-cum glistening in the light.

He used his free hand to grip your hip, lifting you and placing your legs around his waist. You couldn't help but whimper as he rubbed his cock against your entrance, teasing you.

"I could take you right here, right now. I could fuck you until you're screaming my name, and everyone would hear. Would you like that? For everyone to know who's making you feel so good?" He murmured, his lips brushing against yours.

"Please, please, I need you," you gasped, the heat burning in your core.

You could barely breathe as he slowly pushed inside you, stretching you and filling you up. You let out a strangled moan, your walls fluttering around him.

"That's it, take all of it," he groaned, his cock sliding deeper inside you, the pressure delicious.

"Changbin," you whined, your body tensing as he started to move, his pace slow and steady.

"So good," he murmured, his hands gripping your hips tightly, guiding your movements.

You couldn't help but rock against him, his cock hitting all the right spots.

He smirked, his thrusts picking up, the sound of skin-on skin echoing in the small bathroom. You were close, so close, and he knew it.

"You gonna cum on me?" He whispered, his lips ghosting over yours.

"Yes, yes," you panted, your body tensing as he continued to pound into you.

"Do it, cum on my cock, show me how much you love being fucked with my cock," he growled, his hips snapping against yours, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

That's what sent you over the edge, your body shuddering as your orgasm hit, white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins. You moaned his name, your walls clenching around him, pulling him deeper inside you.

"That's it, so fucking tight, feels so good," he groaned, his cock throbbing as he came deep inside you, his hips stuttering as he filled you with his seed.

You whimpered, your body tingling with aftershocks as you clung to him, trying to catch your breath.

"You're such a good girl," he cooed, his cock twitching inside you, his cum spilling out and dripping down your thighs, his grip on your wrists finally loosening.

You could only moan in response, your mind still hazy from your intense orgasm. He held you close, his lips finding yours in a deep, passionate kiss.

You couldn't help but giggle at the ticklish sensation as he placed gentle kisses on your cheeks and neck, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"You're such a brat, you know that?" He smirked, his hands squeezing your hips.

You trailed your hands over each of his bulging biceps, relishing the opportunity to fully appreciate their sculpted strength.

"But you love it," you teased, leaning forward and kissing his forehead.

"I do," he replied, his hand reaching up and caressing your face. "Now let's get cleaned up before someone comes looking for us."

-ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛-

taglist 4 my lovelies: @loverbangchan, @reignessance

[mrsstarkey1]

my shirt - jj maybank

A/N: i wrote this last year and i didn’t proofread it so.. be warned. also check out my most recent jj fic here

SUMMARY: you wear your friend jj’s shirt, then maybe he’s not just your friend anymore

WORD COUNT: 0.7k

WARNINGS: none

you were sitting on the boat with kie and pope, drinking a beer and laughing about something pope said. pope was much more comedic when he had a couple beers in his system.

john b and jj were taking forever, doing god knows what in john b's house, "I wonder why they're taking so long,” you thought out loud, reaching for another beer.

"they're hooking up. definitely." pope said and you smacked his arm, rolling your eyes.

kie shook her head with a laugh, "don't worry y/n, jj only has eyes for you."

your cheeks flushed red despite your best efforts to stop it, "yeah, right."

you had a thing for jj, and it was obvious to everyone except him. the whole group has been trying to push you and jj together for months now, ever since they noticed the looks you gave each other while the other wasn't paying attention.

pope gave you a look, but you ignored it. john b and jj finally joined you guys on the boat, immediately grabbing a drink, and jj lit up a cigarette.

john b started the boat, and you all fell into normal conversation, laughing at nearly everything anyone said. you were all buzzed, per usual.

you put your sunglasses on and rested your head back, ducking out of the conversation for awhile.

"are you wearing my shirt?" you heard jj's voice all of the sudden. your eyes widened as you looked down at the loose blue t-shirt you were wearing.

"oh I- uh," you cleared your throat, "you must have left it on the boat. i got kinda cold while we were waiting for you guys. I can give it back-"

"no no it's okay," he avoided eye contact, "you look good,” he said softly, in a way that made you think he didn’t even mean to utter the words aloud.

you looked at him, taken aback by his words, and he locked eyes with you. you both wanted to say something, but just couldn't find the right thing to say.

"uh guys?" john b's voice caused you both to look away from each other and to him. he looked back and forth between you two for a moment,” uh, we're gonna swim now. you can go back to.. whatever that was."

"way to ruin the moment dipshit," pope smacked john b on the side of the head.

you stood up, pulling jj's shirt over your head, deciding to avoid the further awkwardness with jj. you jumped off the boat into the water and swam over to kie, leaving jj on the boat, finding himself wanting you to come back.

you hung out in the water, and then on the boat for awhile before deciding to call it a day. when you reached the dock, you grabbed your bag and tapped on jj's shoulder. the rest of them got off the boat quickly, saying fast goodbyes to each other, leaving you and jj alone.

you held up jj's shirt, "here.” he looked at the shirt, and then at you.

"no uh- you keep it." he offered you a soft smile, and you sensed his nervousness.

"are you sure?" he nodded, and you smiled, just now realizing how close you were to him. you could practically feel his breath on your face.

in that moment you wanted to kiss him more than you ever have wanted to do anything. like ever.

with a sudden burst of confidence, jj took a small step forward, making the gap between you two so small your noses were almost touching.

"so are you gonna kiss me or what?" you whispered, and he crashed his lips on yours, smiling into the kiss. he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

you both stumbled back, nearly falling off the boat, causing you both to laugh. "you have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." he said, the smile not leaving his face.

"oh, I think I do," you both laughed, and you pressed your lips back to his.

"I'm really glad I left my shirt on the boat."

"me too."

it was inevitable that the shirt wouldn't be the only piece of clothing left on the boat.

———

REQUESTS OPEN

check out my masterlist

if u follow me & reblog my posts i’ll do the same for u !! i love making tumblr friends !!

[screamingcrows]

Afternoon tea - Dr. Ratio x gn!reader

This was requested by @yinyuedijun as part of the initiative by @/ficsforgaza Thank you for donating and requesting from me; If anyone else wants to support the effort, here are links to their page with directions and a masterlist of writers participating.

Tags: soft, fluff, implied friends to maybe lovers, mildly suggestive, acts of service as a love language Note: istg feed this to an ai, asmr thing, lore.fm or the like and I will have Ixodes scapularis at your heels Minors, ageless, and blank blogs will be blocked

"Come again?" Ratio had an abundance of patience when it came to you, but even so, it was difficult to keep disbelief from making his words a little more clipped than usual.

Without hesitation, the book in his hand was closed and found a home atop the worn coffee table, his body twisting to glance at you in the kitchen. Surely, he had misheard you. There was no way you would-

"A codpiece, Veritas. Have you ever considered getting or even making one?"

The way heat flooded to his face made the wish to hide under a familiar alabaster head resurface, an urge not often felt in your company. It was frustrating really, somehow you always made him loose his footing, and what on earth could have compelled you to ask such a ridiculous question?

Wearing the piece around you would be too great a shame to not see clearly how the light warmed whenever it touched your smile, how gracefully you moved around the table with a tray of freshly baked scones, the crinkles around your eyes when you laughed. Always your eyes, attentive and light, ensnaring him whenever he sought answers from you, and he would let them without hesitation. That was a truth.

If perfection existed, it had to be contained within you.

"Well, have you? They have been very fashionable is what I've heard. I'm sure you could cause an uproar if you made one out of that mineral you like so much," amusement was clear from your tone, and as always your words were most likely carefully picked.

"Alabaster was simply fitting, I would hardly call it my favorite. You should know better than thinking me rash enough to act on your whims, I have no intention of causing any uproar at the University unrelated to my teaching material," a scoff left his lips before he continued, "and don't think I missed your little 'have been'."

He enjoyed these peaceful afternoons, as peaceful as any room could be with you present at least, but it was not unwelcome. What had started as a simple apology on your end, having ruined one of his books by accident, had quickly turned into a weekly occurrence when it became clear how much you both enjoyed what you'd taken to calling 'tea parties'.

Your company was refreshing, carefree but wise, and utterly without restraint when it curiosity took hold, the routine of your little gatherings were pleasant while still allowing ample room for variety in topic of conversation. Lately you'd begun requesting taking turns reading aloud to the other, which he had no problem indulging. A small chuckle slipped past his lips, carefully concealed as clearing his throat.

Upon lifting the delicate porcelain to his lips, it was impossible not to notice how your were grinning at him from across the table, already curled up and comfortable as usual. There was no reason not to inquire, the beaming look in your eyes having already summoned butterflies inside his body. It was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore how pleasant your company was, especially on days such as today where he'd showed up unprompted after work, yearning more for your voice than he did a long bath.

Or perhaps, inviting you home to bathe with him would've been the optimal course of action?

Oh that wasn't good. He shifted uncomfortably, one leg crossing over the other when blood gathered in an inconvenient place. That ridiculous garment you'd suggested would have been a blessing in his current predicament.

"You're clearly enjoying yourself, did I not notice you brewing us a new tea?" He set his cup down, eyeing it with skepticism as he awaited whatever had you looking so giddy, the sight of your lips stretching in a smile enough to have his heart struggling to break free.

How he wished he could've cursed out loud then and there, how he had been foolish enough to go months without being able to identify exactly what the budding feeling in his chest was, was far beyond him at present moment.

"I fixed your book. It's not perfect, but I did my best, and bookbinding was a lot harder than expected, so it took a while… Sorry," there was such pride in your eyes that he could practically feel his heart about to burst.

With a slightly shaky hand, the lightheadedness from his arousal only intensified by the sheer disbelief as he accepted the leatherbound book. By no means had it been valuable before, holding neither monetary nor sentimental value, but as Ratio set it inconspicuously in his lap, he couldn't help but trace his fingers along the now slightly uneven spine, knowing there was only one thing he could ever treasure more than this.

[live-laugh-lenney]

housewarming makeout - arthurtv.

hello. hello. hello.

i've been in dire need of some arthurtv content and fics and i can't seem to find very much on tumblr so i thought i'd write my own in hopes that it would help me out with all my feels.

let me know what you think.

any comments are much appreciated at the moment. thank you so much!

*

“Where’s Arthur?”

“Where’s YN?”

The two synchronised questions came from outside the storage cupboard in George Clarke’s flat where, at that moment, Arthur had YN held in the confined space between his body and the wall. Darkness swallowed them as they relied solely on the sense of touch to guide them, adding a whole new sensation deep in the tummies, never knowing where the next touch would be. His hair was tousled and sticking in all directions from the way her hands magnetised to his scalp, her ponytail having come loose with tendrils drooping down by her cheeks and catching between their lips from her lipstick which, in the backs of their minds, would be smeared across their mouths. The overshirt, pink and stripy and something that she’d paired with a white bodysuit and a pair of ripped jeans, had fallen and exposed the bare skin of her shoulder and he’d taken full advantage of that, peppering the softest kisses down the crevice of her neck and down the stretch of her collarbone. His lips were swollen from pressing kisses to the expanse of her neck, to her collarbone to her shoulder, and her chest rising and falling rapidly from the rather intense make-out session they had previously been in just seconds ago. 

His plan to leave a mark of his love coming to a halt, their eyes widening, as they realised they were being looked for after having snuck away from the housewarming party George had thrown that evening to delve into something that was a rather common occurrence for the two of them whenever they were together. 

“Arthur-” 

He shushed her, hand tight to her mouth, as he focused on listening to the muffled voices of their friends discussing their whereabouts, just centimeters from the closed door that kept them hidden from the curious eyes looking for them. One voice belonging to George Clarke and the other voice belonging to Christopher Dixon who, just a mere ten minutes ago, was in an in depth conversation with YN about a video idea he was a little skeptical over. One that she’d been happy to be a part of, if necessary, because she loved a shoot when all of them came together for something to be broadcast for a weekly video (no matter whose channel it was going on) and had fun and filmed every moment that happened - and she was all for helping her friends out.

“I only went to go and get a drink from the kitchen and she’d disappeared by the time I came back.”

“Arthur said he was going to the toilet, snuck out the room, but- but I’ve just been to check in there and no one was there.” 

“Do you-”

“Do I think they’ve finally decided to just shag? Coincidence that they both disappeared, if not.”

“George, fucking-”

She was thankful for the darkness in the cupboard as heat rose up the back of her neck and flushed over the expanse of her cheeks, taking in a deep inhale and blowing it back out, her breath hitting Arthur’s clothed shoulder on the exhale. She shuffled on her feet and the motion had her chest brushing against his, accidentally… well, that’s what she would have excused, anyway.

“YN, seriously-”

“What?”

She could feel his breath over her warm skin and she really thought he’d moved away from her in the terror of getting caught, like a deer in headlights, but he hadn’t. He was still there, the scent of his cologne and beer mixing together and making him seem even more delectable to her, and she had a longing in the depths of her belly that just wanted him more and more. A slither of hope that they would just walk away, get back into the midst of the party, and agree that the two of them would be back out when they were ready to show their faces.

But she knew that was pretty much unlikely.

Especially with Chris. Especially with George.

“Do you want to get caught?”

She shakes her head erratically but she felt sudden stupidity when she realised Arthur couldn’t see her gesture, “no.”

“The tension between the two of them tonight, man. Almost felt like we should have forced them into a room to fuck..”

His hands tightened around YN’s waist at the comment and his fingertips dug into the bare skin of her hips, pulling her closer to him, a twinge of electricity shooting up her back as she nestled closer into his front. The urge becoming too much and she let her lips attach to his neck as her fingers combed through the hair at the back of his neck, twisting the strands between her digits and giving them a gentle tug every now and then, his breathing becoming more tense. Licking up the length of his neck, tasting every inch of him, and dragging her lips, soft and gentle enough that it felt like a tickle, as she left a long line of kisses beneath his jaw. 

“Jesus, YN.”

His gentle whimpering only spurred her on, seeing just how far she could take it before enough felt like enough… challenge accepted, she thought to herself, as she kissed up to his ear and nibbled against his earlobe. 

“Do you think they know that we know they have a thing going on?”

“Honestly, they seem oblivious to what everyone else thinks. Their own world. They’re not subtle about hiding it. He practically eye-fucked her as soon as she walked through my door earlier.”

“I mean, she looked incredible tonight though.”

The conversing voices seemed to sound more and more distant as the atmosphere became more and more intense within the four walls of the cupboard. Their worries disappeared for just a moment as he grabbed her face in the palm of his hands and indulged in a kiss that really did make them forget where they were for a while. Back in his flat, both of them drunk on double whiskeys and coke, having spent the night trying to divert their eyes from one another, without a care in the world about being caught. 

They thrived on being mysterious. 

There was an underlying kink neither of them wanted to dwell on - if they had a chance of getting caught then it added to the excitement and it became a thrill of knowing their secret could be blown by the off chance of them being clumsy.

And, upon searching for a bit of leverage in the darkness to hoist her up onto, like a shelf or the top of a column of cardboard boxes that George had yet to unpack in his flat, Arthur had forgotten their drinks that they had placed on top of one of his suitcases in their haste to close the door and start something they’d been longing to do since the start of the housewarming get together. His cautious yet wandering hands knocking both his bottle of Corona and her pink gin and lemonade onto the floor, the thud causing the conversation outside to come to a halt and their bodies to freeze on the spot. 

“Shit.”

“Arthur, for fucks sake.”

“What was that?”

“Did you hear that?”

“What have you got in there? Rats, already?”

“It’s a storage cupboard. I’ve put my unpacked cases and boxes in there because I didn’t have time to pack it all away before you guys came tonight.”

And Arthur and YN didn’t need to see the faces of their friends to know that they’d clocked on. That they’d been caught, mid make-out, mid-party. YN’s head dropped to his shoulder and his head fell against hers, a heavy sigh leaving her lips as her hands dropped from around his neck and fell down to her side, stroking his arms in the process. 

“Wait-”

“We can’t go in there..”

“Why not? We need to-”

“He’s probably balls deep in her right now, George. Do you really want to see that? I don’t.”

She snorted into his shoulder and rolled her eyes, his head shaking from side to side, a smile on his own lips, hands still holding her waist. 

“We should probably face the music, right?” She whispered into the darkness, “might as well get it over and done with, embrace the awkwardness.”

“Just a little while longer? Just me and you. Once we step outside of here, we’re not a secret to them any longer. We can't sneak around after this,” Arthur responded, tightening his hold on her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder, hugging her close to his body, “we’re public to those divvies after that door opens. Just wanna enjoy you, to myself, for five more minutes.”

“You two are the least subtle people I’ve ever met.”

“At least make yourselves look like you’ve not just had a quickie. I don’t want to be known as the Tiktoker who lets his mates bang in his cupboard.”

“Go away, George,” Arthur called out, a laugh muffled by the door filling the awkward silence, “fuck.”

*

-- ynyln just posted --

YNYLN; happy housewarming @georgeclarkeey !! always the best time when celebrating with these lot. heads pounding this morning. all the fucking love, guys. xx georgeclarkeey  thank you for being there. always the best time celebrating when you’re around, lovely. even if you did go for a make-out sesh in my storage closet. and spilled beer all over my possessions.

arthurnfhill I'm simply amazed they haven't clocked on that we know what's happening. -> ynyln we do now. -> arthurtv @ylyln It was fun whilst it lasted. -> ynyln @arthurtv damn. i loved our time together. -> arthurtv @ynyln At least we can kiss in public now. Want one? -> ynyln @arthurtv come over now then... doors open. -> arthurnfhill Please don't flirt in my replies.

chrismd10  i mean, you spent most of your time celebrating with a game of tonsil tennis whilst the rest of us where celebrating with a game of with beer pong… 👀

fan01  make-out session? in a storage closet? you go, girl!

arthurtv  Somehow, house parties always end with you spilling my drink. You owe me. → ynyln  you owe me a drink, too. → georgeclarkeey  you owe me a new suitcase. and new clothes. and my carpet needs cleaning. → ynyln  @georgeclarkeey i’m sorry. :((( → arthurtv  @georgeclarkeey I take full responsibility. My fault. → chrismd10  @arthurtv always your fault. for being so god damn irresistible, am i right? 😉

fan02  hold on for a damn minute.. spilling their drinks, ‘tonsil tennis’, george's possessions getting soaked in beer, a make-out session in a closet… i’m not sherlock or anything but… are we getting boyfriend!arthur content?

fan03  i’m telling you now, yn and arthur will be together by the end of the year. i’m getting the whole boyfriend-girlfriend vibe just through this interaction.

fan04 they've all just soft-launched arthur and yn being 'together' and i am HERE FOR IT.

fan05 we love a duo who promote secret shag sessions. gotta do what you gotta do.

*

if you got this far, thank you so much for reading!

please let me know what you think of this story. not the best when it comes to thinking up ideas so it would mean a whole lot to me if you left your comments and reblogged to help spread it.

it's my first fic i've written in a long, long while so i really hope it'll help get me back in the game. i really want to start being here more regularly.

ask box is always open so don't hesitate to send anything in, day or night. x