#that's it i'm making them best friends in the au

[lo1k-diamonds]

Make It Right 💜 Part 1

Would you do anything different if you could?

PAIRING: Idol!Jungkook x (f) Reader

SUMMARY: After the last concert in Busan, Jungkook decides to stay at his parents' and make the best of that pause. He never dreamed he would have the chance to meet you again, but now that he has, he won't give up. This is his chance to make things right.

WORD COUNT: 13.6k

GENRE: Idol AU, childhood friends to lovers, reunions, angst

RATING: Explicit

WARNINGS: arguing, resentment, JK said stupid things as a teenager, heartache, angst, semi-public mutual masturbation, nipple play, dry humping, fingering, handjob, cum eating, reader calls Jungkook by his actual name (Jeongguk), reader has a nickname

A.N. I have so much to say!!! First, thank you so much for 1k followers 🙏💜 To think that there are one thousand people in this world who like my stories makes me very emotional, it's crazy, and I'm incredibly touched and grateful for all the positive interactions and love for my stories! A fun fact about this story is that I had the idea for it the day of the Yet To Come concert 🥲😅 Oh yes, am I late or what 🤣 It's been years and I miss them so... I think I needed to write this even more. I really like the dynamic in this fic... Try not to fall in love with JK ;) This is my entry for Bangtan Writers HQ's Second Quarter 2025 event: ‘Home Is Where The Heart Is’, and a huge thank you to @downbad4yoongi Jasz for helping me fine-tune this one 💜 Now before you reach the end, remember there will be a part 2 😇 Enjoy 💜

(Thank you @eerieedits for the cool banner 💜)

Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Part 2 >

Jungkook woke up with a groan, hugging the pillow under him. Its perfume made him smile instantly, but his toes touching the footboard made him grin.

He rolled over, instantly sensing he was just on the edge of his childhood bed. Opening his eyes, he stayed still as the daylight scarcely lit up the room and just looked around. There were toys and medals on the shelves alongside children’s books and photos of him as a baby and a kid. The small desk in the corner was just as he remembered, prepared for him to do his homework. The fact that his legs wouldn’t fit under it anymore made him chuckle and sit up.

His parents were rarely loud in the morning, even when he was a child. Still, it wasn’t every day that he crashed here with no plans to leave immediately after. Actually, he realized that this hadn’t happened in twelve years, give or take. He sighed, listening to his mother’s muffled voice as she spoke with someone outside.

His curiosity got him out of bed, taking a peek out of the window through a narrow gap between the heavy light-blue curtains. Instantly, pure delight curved his lips as he saw the neighbour in the garden. Twelve years may have passed, but nothing changed.

He found the closest pair of sweats and a t-shirt and got dressed in a flash, making his way downstairs. He could still hear his mother talking to the neighbor as he pushed the front door open quietly, hoping he’d get outside before the conversation ended.

He knew he succeeded when the neighbor gasped, “Aigoo, Jungkook! You’re so grown up!”

“Imo-nim!” He exclaimed brazenly, making his mother sigh and try to snipe him once he was out the door with slippers. “You’re visiting today?”

The woman, his mother’s age, laughed happily, bowing her head to his deep, full body bows while his mother whispered, “You’re no longer a child!”

“Nobody else calls me that!” She laughed, quickly telling his mother, “It’s fine! If not him, then who? It’s so good to see you, your mother is so happy to have her baby boy home.”

Jungkook grinned at his mother, who easily pouted, then turned to the neighbor again. “As soon as I heard you two talking, I knew I was home.”

His mother smacked his arm playfully while the neighbor, who was his mother’s lifelong best friend, laughed again.

“He is as charming as he is on TV!”

He bowed again, his smile lingering, and promptly let his mother continue their conversation about his visit.

“Oh, and I saw the concert on TV! Soooo cool,” she gave him a thumbs up as she went on about all of BTS looking so great in concert. “Putting Busan on the map for the whole country! I told your mother we’re all so proud of you! Now, on to the military, right? Tough, but an important duty.”

Jungkook’s smile held as he nodded, letting his mind wander. Not that he felt ready to go on to the military right away, especially after just announcing BTS’s hiatus.

Before he could gently tell her that, her phone rang. As her friend was distracted, his mother made sure to brush his hair out of his eyes properly.

“You just woke up? You haven’t even showered? Or ate?” Her tone and demeanor were just as sweet and caring as always. “Just so you know your father went to get more meat; can’t have you starving while you’re home. Maybe you should go back inside? We don’t want people to find out where you are.”

He quickly hugged his mom and squeezed her gently, lifting her so her feet wouldn’t touch the ground for a second. “It’s fine. I want to be here without worries for just a little bit.”

“Ahhh,” the neighbor interrupted them, putting the phone back inside her handbag. “Mimi is here to pick me up.”

“Mimi?” he asked out loud before he could help himself. He hadn’t heard that name in a long time.

“Yeah, that’s right,” she smiled. “Do you remember her?”

“Of course, I do,” he confirmed quietly.

“Come say hi, then!”

She left his mother’s garden and made her way to the main road at the end of the driveway. Jungkook was frozen for a moment, but his mother beckoned him to follow along, and finally, his feet began to move. She probably didn’t mean you, even though that was your nickname and—

It was like a dream when he saw you getting out of the car. Your face had all the telltale signs that you were forced to personally get your mother if you wanted to have any chances of leaving with her today, and the way his mother greeted you made it even more apparent.

“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting, Mimi!”

Jungkook’s stomach somersaulted. Mimi. The name he gave you because he couldn’t pronounce your name right when you were kids. And now, you were right there with long, luscious hair falling over your shoulders, and dressed in dark blue professional attire that made him wonder where you were going.

“It’s alright, Mrs Jeon. I already know the drill,” you said after you gave your cheerful mother a look. Then you bowed deeply, respectfully, and he kept waiting, anticipating the moment your eyes would meet. “We’re going to be late,” you said as you raised an eyebrow at your mother.

“Oh, come on,” your mother insisted playfully. “Don’t you want to say hi?”

“I’m sorry, Mrs Jeon,” you bowed deeply by the waist again. “But we’ll be late.”

You didn’t look at him, not once. You got back inside your car, and your mother quickly followed you after apologizing for the rush, and then you were gone. Like a mirage, like a product of his wildest imagination. And he stood there in silence, watching you disappear. 

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” his mother commented, next to him. He nodded.

“Jungkook, stay with Mimi, okay?”

Jungkook looked up at his mom and nodded, staying next to you while she figured things out at the counter. He was so excited, he couldn’t stop grinning. The sounds of the pins being knocked down, the bowling balls rolling along, and the music made it the best birthday party ever!

He could already see most of his classmates arriving, and so could you. Yet unlike him, you pursed your lips in an angry pout.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, confused about why you’d be angry. You had given him the idea and even helped him convince his mom.

You looked at him with watery eyes, your short hair cut just above them, much like his own hair. “The whole class is here.”

“Isn’t it cool?!” He wanted to jump around and go crazy, but when he looked at you, you looked sad. “What?”

“Well… Youngsook and Seohyeon said the prettiest girl and the most handsome boy in class should date.”

His face twisted in all sorts of ways. “What?”

“They mean you,” you pointed out, teary-eyed, and he laughed.

“What are you talking about?” 

“Jungkook, Mimi, come,” his mother called, reaching to grab his hand, and he impulsively started pulling her, eager to get his birthday party started as soon as possible.

Yet suddenly, his heart felt heavy. He forced himself to stay still and look beyond his mother, trying to see you, but you were looking away, out of reach.

Jungkook woke up with a start, pushing the covers away and spreading his legs to cool off as much as possible. His feet dangled from his childhood bed as he took deep breaths, annoyed that he was sweating.

His chest was suddenly filled with feelings he had long thought forgotten alongside memories he didn’t even know he was still holding on to.

He closed his eyes; he remembered that birthday party. It was an amazing celebration; he seldom had as much fun as when he turned thirteen. That was his last party in Busan before leaving for Seoul, when everything changed.

He rubbed his eyes and got up, finding a set of clothes and a bucket hat so he could go out. His phone showed him it was 00:47, but he didn’t care. He needed a bit of air, and walking around in the neighbourhood he grew up in had to be safe. He needed to believe he still had that piece of normalcy in his life.

He walked down the illuminated suburban street calmly. For the first time in over a decade, he had time. He could slow down, go down memory lane, and recall the streets he used to bike or walk almost every day. He could finally think about seeing you for the first time in over a decade.

It had to be why he was dreaming of you. Though perhaps it wasn’t the only reason. He sometimes dreamed of you when he was really stressed, and paradoxically, this time, you were the cause of his stress. Why wouldn’t you even look at him? He could understand you had lost touch, many years had gone by, and you didn’t have to be best of friends again. But still. Your moms were still the closest friends, and your families were neighbours. The least you could have done was say hi. Or let him see the recognition in your eyes after so many years.

He chuckled when he saw a familiar playground on the street corner. He strolled idly in its direction and instantly made his way to the swings. Both your moms knew a lot about their children, but he doubted that even they knew you two sneaked out after bedtime to meet there, especially during school breaks. He sat on the swing, letting the quiet night soothe him. It was the only time you had, between school and cram schools, to play a bit and talk. Jungkook didn’t remember most of it, but at least it gave his heart a fuzzy feeling.

Before he could reminisce further, he heard a quiet noise and turned on the swing to check. Everything looked empty until suddenly he heard rustling and saw someone crawling out of the nearby tunnel.

“You’re kidding,” you grumbled, getting up, and he paused.

Not only were you hiding in the place that both of you used to hide in, but you looked… different. Your hair was still over your shoulders, but now you were wearing a sweater and sweatpants, much like his, in the same black color, but a different brand. For a split second, he thought he caught your eyes, but they instantly dodged to the side. It made him miss the first beat, but not a second one.

He got up, eager to take this opportunity, and bowed as respectfully as he could at the waist. Instead of bowing back, you huffed, and the first thing he noticed when he straightened up was that you weren’t just avoiding looking at him. You didn’t want to acknowledge him.

“I’m leaving first.”

“No, wait.” He was firm, unlike when he had seen you earlier. The more this distance was confirmed between you, the more he needed to get to the bottom of it. “How are you?”

He could see the way your jawline sharpened as you said, “Are you going to take off that stupid hat?”

His fingers moved automatically, taking off the bucket hat and running through his hair. And finally, he was able to lock eyes with yours. You didn’t just look incredible, you looked breath-taking, like nothing his imagination could have made up. Your cheekbones were more defined, your lips fuller, your eyes…

He got lost for a moment until you looked away. 

“How are you?” he asked again, unable to give up.

You licked your lips. “Good, and you?”

He smiled. “Good. I missed this.”

He raised his hand, meaning to include everything, the streets, the park, the quiet, the night, you… And you bristled.

“Well, then.” Your curt head nod was enough for him to know you wanted to leave, but he had to push for more.

“Wait. It’s been so long, I—I can’t help being curious. How have you been? What have you been up to?”

You shrugged slightly. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

Your eyes weren’t letting him see anything, and everything about you exuded stoicism. He couldn’t help but chuckle “You’re not going to tell me? Is it a secret?”

“I can’t imagine why you’d need my credentials.”

“Credentials? I’m just curious about an old friend.”

“If you’re curious, you can ask your mom.” Your shoulders squared as you crossed your arms over your chest. “She knows about as much as mine does.”

His brow furrowed. “Well… I have asked, of course. But I want to hear from you.”

“I have nothing to tell you,” you stated, bowing curtly and spinning around to leave.

“This isn’t right,” he voiced his thoughts out loud, and didn’t even expect you to turn back to look at him, but you did. “You’re treating me worse than you would a stranger.”

You didn’t have to answer; rolling your eyes was enough.

“Why?” he asked more sternly.

“I just don’t want anything to do with you.”

“What?” He couldn’t believe his ears. “Why?”

“Because.”

His expression sombered. “What did I ever do to you?”

“Why do you think you did something?” Your arms crossed over your chest again.

“Call it a hunch.”

Jungkook didn’t imagine something like this would ever happen. He wasn’t just back home, retracing the steps of his childhood; he was reuniting with you. Facing you, confronting you, more like. His heart thumped, like it did when he was waiting to get on stage, eager but no longer restless. Like he wanted to do his best, and he was ready. And facing your harsh stare, he realized that was precisely what this was. Because one thing was to have lost you to time, another was to find out you hated him, and he didn’t even know why.

You scoffed, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “I don’t see why you’d care.”

“I’m here, asking you.”

“Right, missing this. Well, then, do what you have to do and leave.”

“Is it hard seeing me or something?” He stepped forward, and you didn’t flinch. 

“Pretending you care? Yeah, it’s hard!”

“Pretending? I’m not—”

You rolled your eyes again, cutting him off, “You show up here after how many years, saying you miss this?”

“It’s been twelve years since—”

“Twelve! Well, forgive me for calling you out on your bullshit. If you want to be pampered, ask literally anyone else.”

“I’m not asking to be pampered, and there's no one else here,” he pointed out, now so close to you that he could finally see the freckles on your nose. It made his stomach flutter. “Why would you doubt I miss this? You, of all people?”

Your eyes widened suddenly as though you were about to explode, but then you subsided. “Yeah, me. Of all people, I would know that it's bullshit.���

A spark of anger took over the flutters in his stomach. “How can you say that?”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, give me a break. Do you hear yourself? Perhaps you're so used to the sound of your voice that you forgot to think about what you're saying.” His eyes were sharp now as the anger you stirred up spread through his chest. “Maybe everyone else is so charmed by your face that you can never be wrong. Well, I'm here to tell you to your face that coming back here, pretending you give a fuck is comical at best, and hypocrisy at worst. So do what you have to do and leave.”

He could see the anger in your eyes, and he was starting to share the same feeling. And yet, it was just that. After seeing the spark in your gaze, the firmness of your belief, and finding you in your special hiding place, the way you thought he was self-centered and narcissistic didn't even bother him. Of course, he didn't want you to feel that way about him. He was eager to change your mind, but he was so happy you two were talking that he kinda just wanted to smile and hug you and ask so many questions.

He couldn’t, though. “Good,” he muttered. “Good that you're here to tell me to my face why you'd think this way.”

Your cheeks gained the lightest hue, and he licked his lip ring.

“Usually, people's words match their actions,” you said. “That's how you get them to believe you.”

“And mine don't?”

“No, they don't.”

You lowered your eyes, and he couldn’t let it end there. “How do you know?” You scoffed, and he insisted, “How would you know how I feel? Or how much I missed this place? Or how many times I came here in the middle of the night instead of sleeping, despite how packed my schedule was, just because I missed all of this.”

His heart shook with the words out of his mouth, only to be met with your angry expression. “I would have known.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you stated, sure of yourself.

“You live in this park, do you?”

You sneered, “I would have seen you. Crossed paths with you. Heard that you were in town or—”

“My mom doesn't know half the time when I'm going to visit, since I don't know it myself,” he explained. “So, unless you live here, how would you know—”

“Oh, shut up!” you snapped angrily. “You were never here and you never cared!”

“Why would you say that?!”

“Because you never once reached out!”

“Neither did you!”

“You left!” Your shout echoed in the night. “You left, so why would I?”

He didn't let himself overthink. “Because you wanted to talk to me again.”

His heart thumped at the possibility and skipped when you admitted, “Sure, I did. Did you? Did you ever want to talk to me again?”

“Yes,” he breathed.

“I don't believe you.” You shook your head. “Even when I think all the way back, you were already acting distant before you left. Too busy with your own things to notice anything or anyone else. You already didn't care back then.”

He frowned. “I always cared. But it's true I had a lot going on back then. I was stressing about getting into a good school, I wasn’t paying attention.”

Your expression closed off as you nodded. Your voice was quiet, as though his admission settled it. “I'm happy you did, and that everything worked out for you.”

“Then why would you be so mad about this? I mean, I’m not thrilled about it, but it happened like it happened.”

“Oh for fucks sake, Jeongguk!” you blew up again, and he had to fist his hands at his sides not to impulsively grab you somehow. “You left! And left everything and everyone behind!”

You were finally talking, and he was so eager to hear you that he was almost leaning toward you. “Everything? What are you talking about?”

“You got into a good school in Seoul and moved, and everything was gone,” you insisted, with the strength behind your words waning. “We were the closest friends, and then suddenly you left and…” You visibly swallowed, then faced him again. “I was…” It must have been harder than you thought because you needed a second try to reveal, “I had a silly crush on you. You were my best friend. There were a lot of things I wanted us to do together. For a thirteen-year-old girl, it was all very new and at the center of everything. You didn’t care about any of it until you did, and I didn’t know how to deal with any of it, obviously. I honestly didn't even know what was happening. I thought I’d have time to bring up those things, to—” You cut yourself short. “I never had the time.”

“What things?” He got even closer, searching in your eyes. “Tell me what things.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, deflating a little bit as you stepped back. “I’m over it now.”

“You don’t sound over it.” He followed you with his eyes. “You sound angry.”

“I’m not.”

Your eyes stayed low, and he pursed his lips, unable to believe you but wary to insist.

“Well, I obviously had no idea you had a crush on me.” Saying it out loud had a smile blossoming on his face that he immediately tried to tone down. Your eyes showed vulnerability again, and he licked his lip ring before continuing, “Honestly, those sorts of feelings took a while to appear. I only realized I had a crush on you so much later.”

Your eyes hardened as you scoffed. “Why are you lying?”

“What? I’m not.” He instantly frowned. 

“You are.”

“Mimi,” he called, not knowing exactly why his heart felt so heavy. “I’m not lying.”

“Wait, let me try to remember your exact words…” You mused, tapping your chin. “She’s just like a boy, with short hair and everything,” you said, looking so firmly into his eyes, he needed a moment to catch up. “I could have called her hyung and nobody would have noticed.”

His stomach instantly churned. “You— You heard me say that?”

“Yes.”

“At my mom’s BTS debut party?”

“Yes.”

“You… heard us talk?”

“Yes.”

He groaned, nervously raking his fingers through his hair to get it out of his eyes. “Is that why you left that day? And I never got to see you?” You stayed quiet, but now he knew the answer. “My mom said you were so sick you were crying, I was so worried, and it was because—”

“Worried?” you interrupted with a sneer. “You’re funny.”

“I was worried!”

“If you really were, you would have come next door to say something!”

“I had to leave the next day and thought you didn’t want to see me!”

“I went to your house, you were the one who couldn't bother to send a stupid message when you were worried that I was sick!”

“Because my mom said you never once asked about me. When your mom said you were really sick, I thought—” He groaned. “I thought you had faked it just so that you wouldn’t bother putting up with me.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you said, and he scoffed. You insisted, “It is.”

“And you never asking about me is normal?”

“You left,” you deadpanned. “With no goodbyes and no messages, I had to hear it from my mom.”

His stomach turned. “Wait a minute.”

“Then three years later, that was what you had to say about me!”

“I was sixteen! And so stupid! My hyungs knew I had a crush before I did, and by then… I had nothing on my mind but work.”

You pursed your lips, and the way you moved away stung him. He could see that he was losing you, that everything had eroded and disintegrated much more than he thought. But he had a chance to tell you everything now and right his wrongs, and he would. No matter how much it hurt to reopen old wounds.

“When I said that, I had spent the last three years forgetting about you. I wasn't about to admit to Jimin that I still thought about you and missed you, not after working so hard to let go, and not when we were just debuting and everything was so hard.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“When I moved to Seoul, everything changed. I never had the chance to say goodbye, and it weighed on me a lot. Just a phone call all of a sudden about a school opening, and hours later, I was already there. I still remember crying in the car and my mom promising she'd talk to you.” His smile was painful as he shook his head. “But she stayed with me for a while in Seoul, so I guess she just called your mom instead. A lot was going on; it just happened too fast.”

You stood quiet, just listening as you probably matched his words with what you knew, and he kept going.

“Everything was harder than I thought it would be. I knew nobody in Seoul, but it wasn't just that. You weren't there anymore, and I never knew how overwhelming it would all be. I'd ask about you, and you were doing well, with good grades and plenty of friends. You forgot all about me when I missed you every single day.”

“That's not true.”

He couldn’t help but scoff as he teared up with the memories. “See how everything is a matter of perspective? It took me three years of working day and night to feel remotely confident. Without you, I— I had to learn to be confident and make friends without you.”

“You were always the popular one,” you said cautiously.

“Because I had you backing me up!” he affirmed, stepping closer to you. “Every time I looked to the side, you'd give me that grin, and I knew that you had me, no matter what. That nothing could go wrong.”

He could see the pain in your eyes; maybe you were starting to get it.

“You mean you were lonely?”

“For a very long time,” he confirmed.

You shook your head, unsettled. “That's crazy. If you needed me… why didn't you say something?”

“I did,” he confessed with a smile that surely revealed the ache he felt at the time. “I was under a lot of pressure not to waste that opportunity. I had no social media and trained day and night. Whenever I'd speak with my mom, she'd just tell me to work hard, that everyone was proud, and that she'd pass it on to you. Until the day I asked if you asked about me, and she said not really.”

“I didn't ask about anything!” You crossed your arms over your chest. “My best friend left without a word. How do you think I felt?”

“Lonely,” he replied, looking into your eyes. “Though probably not as much as me.”

Your lips trembled. “I… Shit, I… I was so angry that I just refused to talk about you, even when my mom or yours wanted to tell me things.” Your confession brought tears to your eyes, and it stung Jungkook’s chest. “I don’t remember how things happened at school or anything, I just remember going to school and home alone every day and… coming here to be alone until I just… I was angry. I heard your mom telling mine you had changed, but I… I refused to ask when you clearly didn’t care, so I just—”

You were holding back tears, and he just nodded, assuring you gently, “It’s okay. We were kids.”

“Then you debuted.” You managed to look at him, and he realized he couldn’t stop breathing in your presence. Your every word. “And I thought, well, at least it was for something. I wanted to support you, even though I cried a lot.”

You chuckled to hide a snifle, and he was worried. “Why did you cry?” he asked.

“I don’t know…” Your gaze wandered, thinking back. “I don’t know if I was proud or grieving. Because I felt left behind, but perhaps that was worth it, because you made it. You were on TV, being amazing, looking so cool,” your voice wavered as you wiped the tears from your cheeks. “Of course, you had to leave and go to Seoul and be amazing. A true friend wouldn’t hold you back.”

Your shoulders trembled, and you turned around to hide the tears that kept falling despite your best attempts to keep them in. You didn’t see him stepping forward or his fingers twitching. You couldn’t know how much his heart ached at learning all this.

“I missed you every day,” was all he could say.

You chuckled, but he could hear the fragility in your voice. “It’s fine. It’s good that everything turned out well.” After several sniffles, you took a deep breath and turned back to look at him. “I may have been angry, but I never wished for you to be unhappy. I’m happy your dreams came true.”

He scanned your face in silence as you handled your tears. He had so much he wanted to say about how much he missed you, but it didn’t feel right to insist. He could feel the distance between the two of you grow whenever he voiced his feelings, whether because you didn’t believe him or it hurt too much.

So he didn’t insist. “So… you are our fan, then?”

He tried a light tone and was mesmerized when you laughed. “Absolutely not!”

He smiled. “Why not?”

“I mean, at first I was,” you explained with a faint smile. “I wanted to support my friend, or, well, you know.” You were embarrassed enough that you weren’t looking at him. “Until that time when your mom wanted to celebrate your debut, and I heard you saying those things about me. I was so upset, I threw away everything BTS-related and swore I’d never look at anything related to you again.”

He groaned and rubbed his face. “All because I said something so stupid…”

You shrugged and looked away, and when he revealed his face, he licked his lip ring nervously.

“I said all manner of stupid things back then, especially about… I didn’t know how to handle my feelings,” he hurriedly explained. “I wanted to come off strong and cool. To think you had a crush on me back then… Honestly, I was so blind to it all.”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow. “To it all? No, you weren’t.”

“What do you mean?”

You shrugged casually. “You dated Seo Soyeon before you left.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened in bewilderment, as though he had no idea what you were talking about. Then, his eyebrows jumped. “Seo Soyeon? Oh my— I had forgotten all about that. They pushed for it, the class couple or whatever. I didn't care.”

“She was your first kiss.”

Your voice was small, and he shrugged with a small smile. “I didn't realize then what that meant. Now, it doesn't matter anymore, but for a while, I wished it had been different. More special.”

As he spoke, he remembered how he had revolted once he was mature enough to realize what had happened. He still remembered complaining about it to Jimin, frustrated that he had let it happen like that instead of realizing that whoever his lips touched should be memorable. Especially after Jimin asked if he had ever kissed you, since he assumed Jungkook’s best friend would have surely been his first.

“Right. You're right,” you agreed, still lost in your thoughts. “It doesn't matter anymore.”

“Who was your first?” Jungkook could have kicked himself for asking you so directly, but your answer was automatic.

“Yoon Jiryun.”

“Ahh…” Jungkook pressed his lips. He remembered the boy with the glasses who ran super fast. But he didn’t know what to do with this information now that he had it, especially since it made his stomach feel funny. “I… hope it was nice.”

You nodded. “It was nice.”

Your certainty made him smile. “You mean it wasn't in front of the whole class by sheer peer pressure?”

He saw the second it dawned on you. “That's… I'm so sorry, that must have been horrible!”

He shrugged. “It wasn't great, but hey. It was a long time ago.”

You looked at him, still with worry on your light frown, then your eyes shifted behind him. Jungkook was so focused on looking at you and appreciating that newfound connection that he didn’t expect you to step forward. His stomach instantly fluttered as he held his breath, but then you moved to the side. He saw you as you put your handbag down and sat on the swing next to the one he was on before.

“I dated him for a couple of years in high school,” you started, and Jungkook didn’t hesitate to sit on the swing next to yours. “He was very supportive of me when I was going through the worst of it.”

“You had issues in high school?”

“Who doesn't?”

“Fair.”

“He was very patient and supportive, even when he knew I was pissed about… you know.”

“What?”

“My former best friend saying stupid shit.”

“You were dating him then?” he asked instantly, surprised.

“No, a few months after that. I'm thankful for him. He made me feel pretty and special after my crush said I looked like a boy.”

He sighed. “Your crush was an idiot. A foolish idiot.”

“You can stop that now.”

“It's true,” he insisted, taking a look at you, even though you were staring ahead. It wasn’t lost on him that you just implied you still had a crush on him at sixteen. If only he had seen you that day. He sighed again. “You know, I don't remember when, but around when we graduated, my mother showed me a photo of our class, and I saw you. I was so shocked,” he breathed, remembering that moment. “You had long hair,” he chuckled, glancing at you to find your eyes this time. “In my mind, you looked and dressed the same, but at that moment, I realized we both had changed. I had my ears pierced, and you had long hair. I was happy. And sad.”

“Sad? Why?”

“Just… because. I didn't see it happen. That made me think back, which at that time I couldn't handle.” He laced his arms around the swing chains and, looking into your eyes, he knew he didn’t want to hide anything. “Everything related to before training is… clouded. I don't remember everything anymore. What I remember most are moments of us together. Like coming here to play at this hour after sneaking out.”

You smirked and looked around the park as though suddenly reminded it was probably almost two in the morning. “We were crazy.”

“Maybe. But I liked it when it was just the two of us talking about… whatever we talked about at the time.”

“I can't remember either,” you confessed, and when you looked at him, he had the most amazing desire to laugh, and you both did quietly. “I thought you would have forgotten about all of that.”

He shook his head. “Not that. It makes me who I am.”

You nodded. “I get that. What you said that one time marked me so much, I’ve never cut my hair above my chest since.”

His heart dropped as he forced his swing to stand still, unlike you, who kept a gentle sway. “I’m so sorry!” You nodded but kept your back and forth, your eyes on the floor, and he didn’t know why, but it felt like he was desperately trying to hold onto grains of sand slipping between his fingers. “I should never have said that, and your hair was beautiful back then, as it is now. I was just stupid!”

“It’s fine,” you assured him. “Like you said, we were kids, and it makes us who we are.”

His expression hardened. “I meant that in a positive way. To think that what you remember most about me is something stupid and harmful I said makes me sick to my stomach.”

“It’s fine,” you repeated, still looking at the floor absentmindedly. “It was painful, but it’s in the past.”

Jungkook didn’t feel like it was okay, much less in the past. Not when he could still see the traces of pain in your eyes or feel in his gut that his fate was sealed. All you’d ever see was the sixteen-year-old boy who needed to deny his feelings because he feared the alternative would block him even more. Who, by saying whatever stupid thing that came to mind, had inflicted a wound instead of being the one who looked after you. No wonder you hated him. He hadn’t just left; he had actively made you feel less even when you meant the world to him.

“Would you do anything different if you could?”

Your voice was gentle and reflective, and he pushed away the tears. “Definitely. Miscommunications can happen at all ages, but it wouldn’t have happened like this if I had asked to talk to you directly. If we had talked, everything would have been easier for both of us. But I think it could have also been harder for you. Because the distance would always be there, and it took me way too long to figure out how much you meant to me.”

“Maybe… Well… It wasn’t meant to be. You’re right, you’re always in Seoul. We would have drifted apart anyway.”

“Maybe not… that wouldn’t happen with the right person, right?” he asked quietly.

“I’m not sure. It was different then. Our lives were different and our worlds were small. It’s all different now.”

Somehow, your words didn’t make him feel any better, even while implying that you might have been the right person for him once. Because it also implied that he had missed that window. He had missed the opportunity to have you in his life, to be with you, to be the one who made you feel pretty and special.

He sighed. “You still haven't told me what you've been up to,” he hinted, deciding a lighter topic would be best for his heart. “It's unfair, you know about me.”

He said it payfully, and you chuckled. “Who doesn't? I tried to stay away, but you're everywhere.”

“Yeah, I… get it.”

You glanced at him, and fortunately, your expression was light. “I've become an interpreter and a translator. I’m mostly connected with the tourism department of Busan, but I also consult for other institutions.”

His eyes widened. He would have never guessed.

“Your concert really gave me a lot of work,” you teased, giving him a look, and he instantly bowed.

“Thank you for your hard work.”

You bowed back. “Thank you for doing this event in Busan.”

He had to grin after a few more head bows back and forth as though they were competing for who would bow last. “You've become great at something I struggle with.”

You raised your eyebrows. “English?” He nodded and saw the surprise on your face. Yet you quickly smirked. “And you? I sing horribly.”

He grinned. “You were never easy on the ears…”

You kicked his foot, and he chuckled, his grin bigger than ever.

“But that's okay,” he assured. “I sing enough for us both.”

Your smile faltered ever so slightly, and so did his.

“What about Yoon Jiryun?” he asked, changing the subject. “Did you guys see each other after high school?”

“No, he studied computer science in Seoul and got married last year.”

“Woah!”

“Yeah, I don't know how he did it,” you voiced incredulously, and he raised a quizzical eyebrow. “I mean, getting married is expensive. The families turn the women into slaves, then they expect kids, but it's so competitive and—” You realized you were rambling. “Ah, whatever. Even dating… It's hard enough as it is.”

Jungkook was listening carefully, trying not to give away how interested he was in hearing your thoughts. “Maybe he just found the right person.”

“Yeah, I think he did,” you mused. “Did you?”

“Me? Nah. With what time?” He shook his head with a smile. “I'm taking time off now, but I want to focus on myself and my family for a bit. On my friends, too.”

You stopped your gentle swinging and eyed him. “Doesn't it get lonely?”

“It does,” he admitted, stopping his back and forth to talk while looking directly at you. “I'll tell you a secret: it's like a vice. The highs are amazing, nothing feels close. But the lows are… soul-crushing. The lowest low. The silence and the absence are deadly.”

Your brow furrowed. “But you can connect with your fans all the time.”

He shook his head firmly. “It's not healthy. Life can't be lived through a camera or a screen. Disconnecting is important. I struggled with that in the beginning, but now… I'm living every day doing my best.”

“That's good, I'm happy for you.”

Your tone was soft and your eyes sincere, and his stomach felt fuzzy again. Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that break would start or even imply a chance to reconnect with you, but he wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

Yet as you looked away again, he licked his lip ring absentmindedly as he realized there was still one thing he didn’t know.

“Have you? Found the right person?”

You chortled openly. “Nope! I'm starting to think they don't exist, but it's fine.”

“What?! Why?”

You shrugged, too focused on scrunching up your nose while you thought of a reply to notice how agitated he had become, tapping his foot and nibbling his lip.

“I tried too long and now I think I'm just fatigued.”

His foot stopped as his voice became gentle. “What was the problem?”

“The entitlement, or the need to be controlling, or the ‘man’,” you air quoted. It was as though you had a list on the tip of your tongue. “Dating doesn't mean you can boss me around. Oh and the god-awful sex.”

He didn’t realize the way his eyes widened, but you noticed the silence and looked at him. Your features contorted to hold back laughter, but in a second, you were both laughing quietly.

“What was worse,” you laughed. “Was the men trying to convince me it's good when it's just— ah shit, just— yeah, you get it.”

The way you both laughed and were at ease talking about it made him feel like you were back to the old days when you could talk about anything. When nothing could go wrong, and he could just be himself.

He hummed thoughtfully. “Well, some of it must have been good.”

You sighed. “Sure. It can't all be bad.” You looked up at the night sky. “I guess I just remember the bad now.”

His eyes betrayed him and quickly took you in from head to toe while you weren’t looking. Then, he looked ahead as he tried to sound nonchalant and pretend he wasn’t curious or attracted to you. “I'm sure it will get better.”

You scoffed and glanced at him. “Yeah, sure.”

He could only nibble his lip ring while stifling the promises he would have made in a heartbeat if he didn’t believe that would make you slap him across the face and never speak to him again.

“Can I ask about what you meant earlier?” he asked casually. “You said there were things you wanted us to do together, but you didn’t have the time to talk to me about them.”

You glanced at him as though you could see right through his fake halo. “Stop joking.”

And he was surprised. “I'm not.”

“You're not?”

“No. I have no idea what went through your mind at the time.” 

He was being sincere, yet you still gave him a look and a skeptical huff, and he fiddled with his lip ring.

“But you’re bringing it up right now,” you underlined, eying him so fearlessly his knees were weak. Thankfully, he was sitting.

“I don’t think you meant sex, but—”

“No!! Of course not!” You flustered visibly, blushing and closing your eyes with embarrassment, and he had to bite his lip not to smile widely. “Why would you say that?!”

He shrugged, although by the way you blushed and stirred, he instantly knew the answer. Teasing you was so much more fun than he remembered.

“I guess you have no way of remembering or imagining what a thirteen-year-old girl wonders about,” you acknowledged, then heaved a deep breath. “Well, I thought you were the cutest and coolest boy ever, and that it would have been perfect for our first kiss to be together. It sounds ridiculous now, but yeah.” Your eyes stayed glued to the floor. “Just dating, whatever that meant at the time. Holding hands, kissing, hugging, talking, I don't know.”

He bit his lip so hard he tasted blood, yet all he could do was swallow the torrent of heat climbing up his chest. “It doesn't sound ridiculous,” he croaked, then cleared his throat. “So that's what you thought at the time…”

“Yeah, it's that phase,” you commented, and for the first time, he wondered if you really felt so casually about seeing him again. “Of entering our teens and becoming adults. For some reason, I was very confident we'd do all those firsts together. Meanwhile, you thought I was a boy.”

“I never thought that!!” he countered instinctively. “I hate that I ever said that. I said whatever came to mind, but I never thought that. Short or long hair, you were always cute and feminine. When I saw that photo of you when you graduated, it hit me hard. How dainty you had become. The same face I’d recognize anywhere, but so much prettier and mature. Seeing you now, it’s one hundred times better. In-person and now as a woman, you're…”

He was finally able to breathe and realize the heat he had swallowed down had just gushed out uncontrollably. 

“Not a boy?”

You had an amused spark in your eyes, and he couldn’t think. “Fuck no.”

You chuckled. “Go figure.”

Finally, he rubbed his face to hide the things that were all too clearly shown there. “I wish it had been different. It's not possible, but I wish I were able to tell you all this at the time.”

“Go back in time and call me through our moms,” you joked, kicking his foot.

“Mom,” he pretended to talk on the phone. “Can you tell Mimi's mom that Mimi looks so pretty now? Someone needs to stay by her side to make sure she's not bothered.”

“Bothered?” you laughed in disbelief, and he smirked.

“Yeah, guys probably won't leave her alone,” he continued, then got up and put his fingers to his ear, pressing a non-existent earpiece. Then, he grabbed your hand and raised his other hand protectively, shielding you from invisible enemies coming from all angles. “No, I need to protect her!” He pretended to struggle, then groaned with his palm to his stomach, raising it while trembling as if it were covered in blood. “No!” He succumbed to his knees while you laughed and shook your head, still holding his hand. “Oh no, they'll kidnap you. Nooo!”

He fell dramatically to the floor, keeping his hand tethered to yours while you laughed quietly. Although his eyes were closed, he gave your hand a slight squeeze to help him up, but you just kept laughing. So instead, he stayed put, listening to you laugh giddily. When he looked up at you from the floor, splayed like a star, he saw you smiling upside down, filling his heart. He couldn’t even describe how complete he felt at that moment.

You stood up from the swing and faced him, raising your free hand to offer help, but he gave you a small shake of his head. Instead, he moved his free arm as though welcoming you to join him. In that split second, he braced for the coldness to return to your features and wash the happiness away. But it didn’t.

You lay down next to him, resting your head on his bicep. He adjusted his arm around you, trying to increase your comfort, only to realize you snuggled up to him seamlessly. You fit in his arms so perfectly that he couldn’t help but embrace you fully.

You hid in his chest, and he let his nose draw closer to the top of your head, letting every little detail relax him. He didn’t remember ever holding you in his arms like this, and he knew he would have never forgotten if he had. To be there with you, alone, breathing you in while your legs tangled with his made him so fuzzy and happy, there was no holding back. There was nothing he wished to keep secret anymore.

“I wish we had our firsts together,” he whispered to the top of your head, and you raised your head to look up at him. “Maybe it wasn’t meant to be, but you’ll always be that one person.”

His heart felt heavy in his chest as you both observed each other so closely. He knew by the trajectory of your eyes that you were rediscovering his features, from the mole on his nose to the small scar on his cheek. His cheeks warmed under your attentive eyes, even as he tried to take advantage to memorize your face, from the freckles on your nose to your full lips.

But then you looked up at him as his breath caught with the sparkly stars in your eyes.

“Even now?” you whispered, and he had to try hard to remember what you were talking about.

Before he could think, his inked fingers traced your cheek. Your lashes fluttered as you looked at him, with warm cheeks and the sweetest expression that told him everything he needed to know. His eyes fell to your lips.

“Now,” he muttered, leaning in, and your eyelashes fluttered again. “Always… Just right…”

He stopped mumbling in time before his lips pressed to yours, and time stopped. His breath caught as his sole focus became that moment, with you, on the cold rubber mat of the playground, having the only first that mattered.

You took a shaky breath, pressing your palm to his chest as you moved your lips, and he waited. He preferred to follow you, graze and taste your kiss with the same cadence and pressure you used, taking only what you gave him. And it quickly became everything he thought it would be.

Your lips touched tentatively at first, carefully making sure the other wanted this, but quickly things changed. He knew it wasn’t just him free-falling and letting that incoming fever take over because he was following your lead. And you were not shy about following your instincts either.

The first kiss was a touch, the second a delicate brush, the third a firm press, the fourth the first taste, the fifth wet, and finally, it became impossible to count. He was already dizzy with what was happening, but the way you invaded his senses overcame him.  He was eager to drink down every drop of your presence and attention, but he didn’t realize it would come with such force. Your kiss became searing and brazen, unapologetically punishing him for the wait, and his body reacted in a flash.

It took him seconds to ignite for you, burning with a passion that he only ever dreamed possible. And then you pulled away, and everything dawned on him—your kisses weren’t innocent. He wanted you in every way possible, and he’d likely follow you to the end of the world now that he found you again and knew exactly what you tasted like.

But you sat up and faced away from him. “I’m sorry, that was…”

“Don’t say sorry,” he croaked, sitting up behind you. He could tell you were panting; his heart was also racing. “You don’t… You didn’t like it?”

In the silence, he raised his hand to touch you but gave up, fearing invading your space. He thought all he had to do was wait, but in a second, you were getting on your knees to reach your handbag ahead, on the ground, next to the swings.

“Mimi…”

You grabbed your handbag. “Don’t call me that.”

“I’ve always called you that. I gave you that name.”

You froze, still facing away from him. “We’re not kids anymore.”

“No, we’re adults.”

You stayed quiet, but at least you weren’t moving further away. He didn’t even know how he was so calm, but he embraced it.

“So tell me,” he said quietly, hoping you’d turn around to look at him. “Was our kiss just now… weird to you?”

“No.”

His lips curved in the most endearing smile. “That’s a relief.”

You finally faced him. “But we can’t do this.”

Your eyes were big and glazed, and he focused. “Why not?”

“Because… It’s not the same.”

Your voice shook, and he frowned ever so slightly. “The same?”

“It’s not our first…”

“Who cares?!” he blurted out, but he couldn’t help himself. He saw hesitation but also so much more in your eyes that he couldn’t hold back. “Mimi, who cares who our firsts were? Do you care that much about who we’ve kissed before?”

“No!”

“No? You sure?”

“I’m sure!” you confirmed firmly. “It’s not that!”

“Then what is it?”

Your eyes met his, and he saw the moment you realized what you had just said. You admitted — insisted — that the past was not what was bothering you. He could only hope you’d be willing to tell him what the real problem was so he could help you. So he could fix it and never have to let you go.

“I thought—” Your voice wavered, so you whispered, “I thought I was over you.”

He couldn’t help a knowing smile. “Ditto.”

Did you notice you were leaning in again? Did you notice you were looking at him like nothing else existed? Or how you raised a curious yet shy hand to touch him, and he leaned forward, savoring the way you brushed his hair out of his face. When he opened his eyes again, you were much closer, and he had no qualms brushing his hand down your forearm and raising his other hand in an invitation for you to come closer.

Your handbag fell to the ground again as you took his hand, and he pulled you in. The objective was never for you to straddle him, but as soon as you did, his arm wrapped around you possessively. Anyone would have a hard time convincing him to let you go now, not when you were sitting so perfectly on his lap, looking at him like the world was that moment.

“Are we crazy?” you whispered, and his blood ran hot again.

“Maybe.”

His hands held you firmly, almost afraid of losing that moment somehow, yet there was no need to. You pushed forward, crashing your mouth to his, unabashedly picking up where you had left off. He was already not in his right mind, but the moment your tongue pushed through the seam of his lips, he felt his brakes disintegrate. There could be no inhibitions when you were pressing yourself like that to him, breathing heavy, sharing your air, taste, and visceral curiosity. It was too easy to become inebriated, relaxing while burning so intensely, it was hard to explain. It was as though he knew he’d be consumed by the desire, the lust, and the affection in his heart, all with your name so deeply rooted in him, it was more than inked, it was branded. Part of his DNA, his psyche, his soul. And to elevate it all, the way you showed him there was something inside you, too. Something that pushed you to kiss him harder, cup his cheek, and mold your bodies so closely that you ended up pushing him back until he was lying on the ground again.

As you dove into the kiss, the air dissipated from his lungs, and he surrendered completely. Kissing you and absorbing every little detail from the way you breathed or caressed his face was already enough to erase every thought that could try to interrupt that moment. But now, he felt everything. Your weight over him, the warmth, the way your chest expanded against him, letting him catch hints of your form above him. He couldn’t help the hard-on in his pants more than he could help breathing in your perfume between fevered kisses, and it was divine.

He never pushed you or pressed for anything in any way. You'd undoubtedly realize his excitement, but he trusted you not to go further than you were comfortable with. No matter how curious he was to learn and explore every detail about you, he'd gladly kiss you all night long if that was what you wanted.

But he wouldn’t push you away if you wanted more. He sighed when your hands felt the expanse of his shoulders and chest, feeling every inch of his body tingle and react under your touch. His fingers twitched on your waist, eager to feel more, but he reeled it in. One deep breath while your tongue licked against his could have easily flipped his mindset, but he was disciplined enough to stay put.

Until your fingers explored down at his sides, framing his waist until they reached your legs. Realizing your knees were pressing into his sides, you opened your legs further, and his brain turned to goo. Your weight shifted enough for you to sit straight on his hard-on while your fingers eagerly pulled his sweater so you could touch him, and he groaned into your kiss.

It was a visceral, unadulterated sound dripping with desire, and you paused. You pulled away to eye him, looking like sin incarnate with your swollen lips and blown pupils, and he licked his lips.

“Keep going,” he rasped, looking at you hungrily. “Whatever you want.”

You looked down at the hem of his sweater, crumpled in your hands, as he pulled on the fabric to reveal his lower abdomen. Dragging your hands along wasn't enough for you to break away from your hesitation, so he took them. Your eyes were locked with his as your fingers interlaced, making his heart flutter. You dropped your mouth back to his, pressing a chaste kiss, and he closed his eyes. Yes, his heart was singing, but he wanted you to keep going.

So he placed your hands on his lower stomach, instantly shuddering, and not from the night's October cold. Your fingers untangled from his, touching and feeling his warm skin, and he groaned again. This time, he didn't hold back from opening his mouth and searching to deepen your kiss, and his hands returned to your waist, squeezing it firmly.

You took everything he offered, no longer surprised when he groaned as you pressed and scratched lightly over his abs and sides. You reached his chest once, and his breath caught. He couldn’t control his reaction; his dick throbbed under you and he nibbled your lip, so eager to eat you whole he didn't even know how he was holding back. But he knew then you had to know it. You had to feel how hard he was underneath you, and yet you didn't move to the side or pull away. As if you wanted to feel his excitement pressed to you, and it was maddening.

He felt his sanity pushed further when you grabbed his hands and guided him. He held his breath as you dragged his hands to your hips before making way underneath your sweater until you placed them back on your waist, directly on your soft skin.

He could barely breathe, and you knew it. You ghosted his lips the whole time as your eyes stayed locked with his, observing his reaction. He couldn’t think, suddenly absolutely stiff and tense. If he moved and touched you, it would be like jumping off a cliff — wishing the untamed ocean would catch him while he would be completely at a loss.

“Touch me,” you whispered against his lips, and he heard it as both a command and a wish, so he did.

Your skin was so soft and warm, he wondered how it could be so perfect. Your curves instantly turned his legs to goo underneath you, so maddening they were, but something else almost made him choke.

Several times, he palmed your sides from your armpits to the hem of your sweatpants, and there was nothing but soft skin. No elastic, no other fabric, nothing but supple skin.

His eyes met yours again as you kept brushing his lips and skin without properly kissing him, as though you were waiting for something.

“Don't stop,” you whispered, nuzzling him, and he leaped.

His palms moved in, thumbs brushing the side of your chest, and your breath shook. He caressed the sensitive skin, feeling how warm and inviting it was, and as he did, you melted over him. You kissed him, then turned to the side to breathe, then pressed his lips again, then had to part them to moan softly, and by the time he realized what was happening, you were both too far gone.

You were moving over him at the cadence of his hands, and it felt too good for both of you. You rocked your hips as slowly as his hands, savoring every millimeter his fingers explored of your breasts little by little while you pressed your core to his hard cock. It was incredibly worth it to do it slowly and feel you falling apart over him, cracking his control as yours dissipated as well. The tension was so sweet and sublime, he let it develop to the last second. Brushing his fingers ever so slightly over your breasts without ever forming a hold. At least until you whimpered. 

Then, he cupped your breasts in his hands and squeezed, and you moaned, grinding on his erection so perfectly, he throbbed. He did it again and again, reveling in the way you reacted and gave back to him. Until you hid in his neck to moan your pleasure, and he bit down on your exposed neck, rutting into you unapologetically.

You were just perfect. The sounds you breathed drove his sanity away, but the way you felt over him made him want to get lost in you. He was crazy, both about feeling you and driving you just as crazy, and for a moment, he thought it would work. He was teasing your nipples while groping your tits harshly, arriving at that point by the way you moaned and humped him harder with every touch in the right direction. He was listening to you attentively, so turned on by your excitement, he wondered if he could cum like this if you did.

But then you relented, stopping your hips despite the way you were moaning and breathing into his ear, messing him up. 

His instincts roared, and he rolled over you, letting you stay hidden in his neck. Then he humped sharply into you to elicit that strong reaction out of you again and there it was, that sweet breathless moan in his ear. Your hands found their way to his lower back under his sweater, and the slightest push was enough to unleash him. He hid in your neck to suckle your skin while humping your core and squeezing your tits in his hands. Everything heated him unbearably, melting away any thoughts before they could form. Yet as you moaned into his ear and sank your nails into his lower back, moving with him, he pulled away to look at you. He was suddenly overwhelmed by curiosity — what did you look like at his exact moment?

His cock throbbed so painfully he had to slow down, making you whimper and open your eyes. It made it even worse, and he bit his lip to simmer down. Just seconds before, you were breathing heavily with your lips parted, shuddering underneath him. He could still feel your heart racing under his hands as your tongue peeked out to lick your lips, and he dove in.

He was fully inebriated, wholly converted, and ready to learn everything about you from A to Z. What he had learned so far was not enough; he couldn't stop now.

You tapped his back, and he let you breathe, pecking your cheek instead.

You rasped, “Everyone can see us.”

He raised his head to look at you, his heart pumping loudly. You didn't say stop, no, or that you should end it there. Your eyes showed as much desire as he felt drumming in his veins, and he kissed you hard. You wanted to be with him, and if he had somewhere to take you, he wouldn't have hesitated for a second.

He couldn’t take you to his parents' place as it stood. So he guided your legs to lock behind him. “Hang on.”

Once he was sure you could hold, he rose to his knees and crawled into the tunnel you had been hiding in earlier. When he laid you down gently, you giggled and instantly covered your mouth. He had to chuckle at the way you blushed, surprised by the echo.

“Don't you remember when we'd shout from one end to the other, pretending to be pirates and thieves?”

Your eyes crinkled. “It's a miracle we were never caught and grounded.”

He let his body fall to yours gently. “It's because there's nobody around at this hour.”

He pecked the tip of your nose, and you smiled, happily still holding onto him. It made him pause. He just looked at you, relishing that closeness and singular moment with none other than you. He couldn't see you as well, now hidden from the streetlights, but he could still distinguish the lines of your smile. You looked happy. He had to wonder if it was all a dream.

Your legs stayed laced around him, and as he felt the outlines of your body underneath him, he was reminded of just how turned on he was. His cock was so hard and swollen, and after humping you so crazily, his clothes were pressing on it uncomfortably.

He supported himself on one hand, feeling the tight tunnel frame his shoulders as he used his free hand to adjust his dick. His head was completely elsewhere, locked on how he’d touch you again under your sweater as soon as humanly possible, when he felt your hand over his.

His thoughts collapsed in on themselves as you looked up at him and followed his hand to his hard-on. His breath caught when you didn’t just feel around, but purposefully found his length.

“May I?”

His brain had to do backflips to articulate a simple, Yeah.

Worse than feeling like he was drooling all over you and unable to attach two words together was the way you looked at him. The more his eyes adjusted to the darkness, the more he saw the look on your face — of someone who knew what they wanted and weren’t afraid to get it. It made him weak in the knees before your hand had the chance to grab his hard length.

You squeezed him over his sweatpants, learning the outline of his dick before moving beyond his hand and burrowing inside. He had no time to process, only to catch himself before he collapsed on top of you. He couldn’t stop a deep groan, nor the precum from spilling over your hand, but there was no hiding it, not at this stage. Not when your fingers wrapped around him and felt him from base to tip, and not just once or twice.

He opened his eyes to look at you, and you almost blew him away. You weren’t just sure you wanted to touch him; you had the most confident and sexy look on your face. Like you knew what you were doing to him and wanted exactly that to happen. Like you intended for his toes to curl as he stopped himself from rutting into your hand and kissing you desperately as he spilled all over you.

He had given up on stifling his groans or heavy breathing; the way you seemed to delightedly observe every reaction only made him more beside himself. He wanted you to look at him and want him as crazily as he wanted you, but he also didn’t want to cum in two minutes.

His eyes flickered down to your stomach, and you whispered, “You can pull it up.”

He met your eyes and supported himself on both his hands, pressing his thumbs to distract himself from your hand jerking him off steadily and perfectly. “No,” he muttered, then tried again. “I don’t want you to be cold.”

You definitely knew what you were doing when you used your free hand to pull your sweater so far up on one side that your breast showed. It was enough for him to groan and almost try to escape your hand, because it was too good. You felt too good and looked too perfect, and his instinct won again. In a split second, he wasn’t just looking at the outline of your chest, trying to learn all the details in the dark, but diving in with his mouth latching onto a nipple he had teased relentlessly before.

You threw your head back and moaned, and his hand darted to stop yours. You couldn’t have known how close he was to blowing, especially as he didn’t relent from licking and nibbling on your perked nipple. He couldn’t help himself, especially when you grabbed his hair and moaned softly like that.

The moment you moaned his name, his eyes closed as he felt it in his entire body. He’d never forget that sound.

“Can you multitask?”

He opened his eyes, so utterly dazed he couldn’t have heard you. “What?”

“Can you touch me, too?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him, and he realized what you meant.

Your legs had loosened their hold around him, but were still open under him, molding to him in the perfect position for him to sink deeply into you.

He shook those thoughts away. “If you let me, I’d love to.”

You were quick to make space for him beside you while he tried to wrap his head around what was happening. He used to think it was unlikely that he’d ever meet you again. But now, not only were you kissing, but you were touching each other in ways that crossed lines like they were meant to be erased. Asserting what he instinctively knew but was never able to act upon.

He lay next to you, noticing how you adjusted to still be comfortable while you held onto his dick. Not that you had let it go, but at least you seemed okay with waiting for him to be comfortable before you restarted your strokes.

But first, he needed to touch you and brace himself for it. This was such an important moment that his heart started racing inside his chest. Not just because you were letting him touch you, but because of everything it meant. You trusted him, you wanted him, you had expectations that he could make you feel good, and suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to do exactly that while stressing like hell that he’d do everything wrong.

His hand moved in the dark, trembling, to find you, and it did. Your legs opened further as his palm settled on your inner thigh, firm and warm, and he opened his eyes. Instantly, he knew he was fucked and blessed. The streetlights somehow managed to shine on you, giving him a view he had only ever dared to dream of — you, lying next to him, with your sweater raised, exposing one side of you, stomach to breast, while one of your legs was open with his inked hand resting on it.

He was probably drooling, and once his eyes met yours, he guessed you knew.

“Please,” you breathed, and the back of his neck burned. Your eyes were hungry as you moved your hips ever so slightly, and he didn’t want to keep you waiting.

Still, his hand darted to your nipple first, pinching it softly. His dick throbbed in your hand as you moaned, and one glance was enough to know his next step. He brushed his fingers gently down your chest to your stomach on a sure path to where you wanted him, and in a second, his hand slipped inside your pants.

His eyes focused on you as your wetness guided him, and although he tried not to be rough, his fingers slipped. You instantly gasped and let your head fall back, and his curiosity became untamable. His fingers brushed up and down along your folds, a feather touch opposed to the first contact with your sensitive clit, but you enjoyed it. You squirmed ever so slightly, giving him even more space to touch you however he pleased, and he did.

He took in the way his hand disappeared inside your pants in the same way yours disappeared inside his, both stroking at a slow, exploratory rhythm. While you kept a firm, steady hand from head to base, almost as if not to distract him, he kept focused on your little eyelash flutters and gasps as he discovered every inch of you.

Despite your quiet whimpers, he retreated to your thighs, determined not to leave a single stone unturned. Only when your hand around his dick became impatient did he move back up and touched your slit again, having to close his eyes with how much wetter you were, if that was even possible. 

Your whimpering moans caught him by surprise, and as you breathed heavily, he focused. You weren’t a dream or a fantasy; you were so very real, and he wanted you to enjoy every second with him.

“Tell me how,” he asked gently, grazing over your clit without staying there.

“You don’t know?” You were breathlessly surprised, and he chuckled.

“I don't know how you like it.”

You matched his smile as your hand slowed down around his length. He took that as a positive reaction — you wanted this to last, and so did he.

You bit your lip and turned your face closer to his, whispering, “Can you do it slowly in big circles?”

He instantly changed his touch to match your request, and your reaction was almost instantaneous. Your hips moved against his fingers, and in seconds, you were biting your lip, stifling your moans. He found it curious that you reacted so strongly to such a simple touch, but he knew it was more than that. Your hips were adding to the feeling, not to mention you had to be turned on by his hard dick in your hand. Being half-naked in a public playground might have also contributed, though he wasn’t thinking about any of those details right now. For him, what mattered was how much wetter you were, trying not to squirm under his touch.

“A bit harder,” you breathed, looking at him, and he nibbled his lip ring.

He did as you asked, pressing more firmly, noticing how he wouldn’t touch your clit directly unless when you wanted him to, and you controlled this by moving your hips. He was getting you off under your rules and by the way you were breathing and pumping his cock, he knew you were almost there. He himself would have been cumming soon if not for the fact that he wanted to learn every single detail about you while you felt like this.

Your chest heaved harder as your hand slid alongside his length perfectly, yet your eyes closed as you tried to hide. You turned your face down, bringing it closer to him. He pecked your forehead as you squirmed under his hand, stifling your moans, until you seemed to change your mind. You pressed your lips feverishly to his and he had to redouble his effort to not change the rhythm for you, sliding perfectly around your wet entrance and brushing your clit just like you liked it, again and again, until you gasped.

Your back arched violently, breaking apart your kiss, and letting him see everything as you climaxed. How you moaned softly, letting it echo around you two, as you trembled. Your hips slowed down, and so did his fingers, able to feel your clenching hole enticing the hard dick still in your hand that you were squeezing hard. Fortunately, not hard enough to hurt, but surely enough for you to know how ready he was to feel you closely. Not that he would, but not that he could help thinking about it now that he could imagine how you’d feel cumming around him.

Your whole body relaxed next to him as your hand lost its strength, and he understood. All the sexual tension was gone for you. He brought his lips to your forehead, pecking you as his hand slipped from your pants, hoping you wouldn’t feel pressured to continue. Because if it were up to him, he’d be begging for more, but he hoped you were comfortable enough to do as you pleased. 

You raised your head to meet his lips in a languid kiss, and that intimacy swayed him. He was ready to kiss you until the sun dawned, but you were quick to wrap your fingers firmly around him again, and with a renewed intent this time.

He opened his eyes, meaning to pull away and ask you if you really wanted to continue, but your gaze made his breath catch. You didn’t want to just get him off; you were in charge of the way his pleasure developed, and it brought him straight back to the thick of it.

You were very close to each other, but no longer kissing, so he did something out of instinct — he brought his fingers, still covered in your slick, to his mouth. A small part of him feared he’d weird you out, but somehow he knew you were on the same wavelength.

He groaned with your taste, throbbing in your hand, turned on beyond belief, and your reaction was to pull his hand away and dive in tongue first into his mouth. You both moaned into the kiss, and Jungkook was so beside himself, he didn’t last a minute with you assaulting his mouth like that. It was too much on top of your hand squeezing around the tip of his cock, edging him for all the precum he possibly he had. 

He had to break your kiss apart. You were perfect for him, but— “I’ll cum.”

You smirked. “I hope so, I want to taste you, too.”

Every word sparked him, and looking into your eyes, he was certain you had thought of him before. At least once. In all those years, you had thought of doing this with him before, and it was the straw that broke the camel's back. He wrapped his hand around yours, squeezing your fingers into a fist, and spilled.

Instantly, warm spurts of cum had nowhere to go but to drip in between your fingers, but you didn’t shy away. You pumped him for all he was worth, making him groan and squirm as he held you while you emptied him.

As soon as he was spent, his first instinct was to search for your kiss. Not consuming, not searing, just calming and soothing like the sigh that escaped his lips. Then, he let go of your hand and fell back, ready to bask in that peace when he noticed out the corner of his eye that you took your hand still dripping with his cum to your mouth and licked it.

You closed your eyes, savoring it, and he groaned, so euphoric at that moment, he couldn’t describe it. He rose from the ground to kiss you again, temporarily overriding that newfound peace with his inextinguishable desire for you, until you squirmed and chuckled.

His cum was dripping down your wrist into your sweater and you quickly pulled on your sleeve. “Wait.”

You crawled back out of the tunnel to reach your handbag, and he lay back, relaxedly, letting what just happened wash over him. You two together felt amazing, and it was no longer a fantasy or a dream of his teenage years. He didn’t have to imagine that the two of you would work out together; you just did. 

You sat down at the entrance of the tunnel next to his knees and passed him a tissue so he could clean his hand, which he did absentmindedly as he waited for you to join him again. He didn’t know what the future held, but he’d start by holding you and go from there.

Except you weren’t back yet, so he looked at his feet again. He could see your calves, immediately noticing that you were standing at the tunnel entrance with your handbag nowhere in sight.

“Mimi?”

“I need to go.”

You instantly rushed away out of sight, and he sat up instinctively, hitting his head so hard that the whole plastic tunnel resonated. He rubbed his head as he tried to crawl outside, and when he finally managed to stand up, you were nowhere in sight. 

He quickly shook off the dizziness and ran back to where both your parents lived. He didn’t understand why you would just leave like that, but above all things, he didn’t want any misunderstandings.

When he got on the right street, he ran through your mother’s garden all the way to the front door and raised his hand, but stopped before he knocked. If he did, he’d wake up your parents, and that would create more problems. 

So he nibbled on his lip ring and walked away, throwing your parents’ place a couple of glances before making his way to his parents’. You were safe there, and he knew just where to find you in the morning.

Next Part >

[trainer-from-unova]

secret

Ⓢ english ao3 Ⓢ spanish ao3 Ⓢ masterlist Ⓢ

ship: the void x f!reader (x bob reynolds)

summary: where you're dating the void, and not even bob knows it. it was easy to hide the secret from him, it was the others who were the problem.

au: bob and the void are different personalities / did

c/w: post-canon, hurt/comfort (but not for poor bob), void bullying bob

a/n: english isn't my first language and a kudo on ao3 will be appreciated even if you read it here <3

word count: 2281

It had been a good few months for Bob. Although he didn't dare use his powers again, he was now living free with the New Avengers in their tower. He had gained a group of friends, a family who loved him and really cared about him. What he didn't know was that he had also gained a girlfriend, kinda. And to his surprise, she was the one he shared the least alone time with, or so he thought.

It was easy to hide the secret from Bob, it was the others who were the problem. Luckily there were few of them in the team, but they still seemed too many. It didn't help that almost all of them were trained as spies and that one in particular could turn invisible, though at least Void had the ability to see her even if she turned invisible to the others.

They saw each other at night, when everyone was asleep and when Bob was supposed to be asleep, so Bob would have no gaps in his memory and wouldn't suspect anything. But it's hard not to make noise when you meet your partner in your room at night... Although the walls, doors and windows of the attic were soundproofed, they always tried to make as little noise as possible, as some of the team members had enhanced abilities.

And even if there was plenty of room, sometimes it was inevitable that they would bump into someone.

It was three o'clock in the morning when, kissing goodbye in front of Bob's bedroom door, they accidentally bumped into Bucky, probably awake due to insomnia or just awakened by a nightmare with traumatic memories. The couple separated quickly, and luckily the darkness of the place disguised well the facial expression of Void, so different and yet so similar to Bob's.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" said the soldier in a whisper.

"Don't worry about it," she said in the same tone, looking up at him as she took her boyfriend's hand, squeezing it tightly. And he understood perfectly what she was trying to communicate: "Play along with me and pretend". "Please don't say anything to the others, we want it to be secret," and in that sense she wasn't lying. "You haven't seen us and we haven't seen you, okay? This didn't happen."

Though it was dark they noticed him nod as he resumed his silent course, and Void merely said a silent goodbye to her as well, leaning over her slightly to kiss the top of her head as he grabbed the doorknob with one hand to slowly open the door and lock himself inside the room.

If only Bucky had been the only one who had discovered them unwittingly... But as time went on they all discovered them, and they followed the same strategy they had with this one.

Also, as time went on, Bob began to feel something for her. It was more than companionship and friendship, and perhaps it didn't make sense because he didn't have as close a relationship with her as he did with Yelena, but he could tell he had a special chemistry with her. He unknowingly caught the love that Void had for her.

And he might not remember the experiences of Void, but the muscle memory remained. He couldn't help but turn his neck in the direction ______ was facing, fix his eyes on her, sharpen his hearing at the sound of her voice, and even feel the urge to take her hand and kiss her. Clearly he didn't do that, because she wasn't his. He knew that. A voice inside him reminded him of it when he stared at her too long. "She's not yours." But he wanted to make her his, and he knew he needed female advice for that.

"Can we talk?" Bob asked quietly, shyly entering his best girl friend's bedroom after he knocked on the door with a few taps and she told him from inside that he could come in. "I need advice on a matter..." he said as he closed the door behind him.

"Sure," she replied as she got up from the bed she was lying on, sitting cross-legged and locking her mobile phone to put it away. "What is it?" she asked as she watched him approach her bed. "Is something wrong?" she asked as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"No no," he said quickly, reassuring her and dispelling any doubts about his mental health. "You see..." he sighed, staring off into nothingness, mentally thinking about what he was going to say and how he was going to say it, "I like ______," he said shyly, "and, I don't know," he shrugged, "I was wondering if you could give me some advice on... I don't know- Winning her over and maybe asking her out," she looked at him completely quizzical, frowning.

"Weren't you already dating her?"

"What?" he asked now, in the same tone and with the same facial expression. "No."

"Oh so you're just having an affair...?" she asked, a little less confused.

"No, not even that," he said still just as confused, and the same level of confusion returned in her.

"I saw you together one night," she remembered, "kissing in the middle of the hallway."

"Are you sure it was me?"

"Well, yes — it was dark, but..."

And she stopped dead in her tracks, falling silent for a second. As soon as they both heard the word "dark" they looked at each other tense and nervous, but with understanding.

"Do you think she knows it's not me?" he asked.

"How could she not know? If she thought it was you she'd be throwing herself into your arms all the time."

Knowing that she was well aware that it wasn't Bob he felt a mixture of emotions: sadness, anger, surprise, confusion, envy, jealousy... He found it hard to believe, and if that wasn't enough, Yelena added more information:

"______ told me you wanted it to be a secret, asked me not to tell anyone and to pretend I hadn't seen anything even with you- with them," she corrected herself quickly.

"Good God," he said getting up from the bed, pacing back and forth hysterically, "How did- How did he- How did they- Oh my God," he was overwhelmed by all the questions on his mind, but he didn't want Void to show up to answer them, let alone lose control of the body. "What should I do?" he asked looking at Yelena at last.

"First calm down and then talk to her. There is no other option."

Unfortunately she wasn't present in the tower, she had gone out for a while and because of that he went to ask Yelena for advice at that very moment. He had to wait for her to return, and the wait became eternal and deadly.

"What is it, honey?" she asked as she set her bag on her desk, her back to him. He wasn't surprised by the nickname as she often called him and the other men in the group that. They were in her bedroom, with the door closed. She had just arrived and didn't even have time to take off her shoes.

"By that do you mean me? Or Void?" He said behind her, trying not to sound too annoyed, and it was a good thing she had her back to him, because the way her face darkened wasn't at all disguised. She tried to recompose her facial expression before turning to look at him.

"What?" She asked pretending to be confused, though she really was, but in the way she was pretending to be.

"Don't play dumb with me," he said, not completely annoyed but clearly not happy — he was nervous and tired, eager for this awkward moment to be over as soon as possible. He didn't like confrontations, even if they were only verbal and seemingly peaceful.

"What do you know?" she asked, now really serious.

"Enough," he nodded, infected by her seriousness.

"And how do you know that?" she asked as she crossed her arms.

"That doesn't matter now," he replied. "What kind of relationship do you have?"

"We're dating," she reported matter-of-factly but still folded her arms, lifting her shoulders slightly and looking at the ground for a second. The confirmation from her side felt like a stab in Bob's chest. There it was again, that mix of emotions inside his chest.

"Okay, leave him," he said.

"Just because you say so?" she said sarcastically as she laughed, snorting through her nose. She didn't mean to be rude, but she wasn't liking the conversation and wanted to make her position clear. "I'm not leaving him," she said shaking her head subtly, "and he's not leaving me. Our love life is none of your business."

"A monster like him can't fall in love," he informed her, trying to talk some sense into her.

"He's not a monster, and he can," she said annoyed and hurt.

"It's impossible," he replied.

"No," she shook her head again, growing more and more annoyed and hurt.

"I mean- You're wonderful, but-" he hastened to correct himself, blushing slightly, closing his eyes tightly and holding up his hands.

"I know him better than you do Bob," she said.

"Better than me!?" He couldn't help laughing in the same way she laughed before, but the laughter didn't last long. "I just want to protect you," he said desperately now.

"I don't need your protection," she said annoyed.

"You're not safe with him!" he said, also annoyed.

"He's changed!" She opened her mouth to say something else, but was interrupted.

"Oh, you fixed him?" he said annoyed but with a smirk, laughing as he looked at her raising eyebrows.

Now she was the one stabbed in the chest. Her face softened, but not in amusement or joy, but in utter hurt. She looked at him as if he had betrayed her. Her eyes widened like discs as she listened in surprise at such audacity, but they also trembled, as did her narrowed lips. He quickly realised the mistake he had made, and in sorrow he approached her to try to take her hands and apologise, but she took a step back.

"...He talks to me better than you do," she said again, wrinkling her forehead as she subtly shook her head.

"𝖄𝖔𝖚'𝖗𝖊 𝖗𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 𝕽𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗𝖙, 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖆𝖑𝖜𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖐𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖘𝖊."

"Nonono," he said in despair at hearing that, overwhelmed by the situation and feeling himself losing control. His facial expression and body language changed in an instant, as did his tone. "Robert, the hero," he said sarcastically as he moved closer to her to calm her in his arms. "I swear I'd kill him if I could," he said as he kissed her head furiously, looking furiously at the nothingness behind her back.

"He means no harm..." she said softly as she hugged him tightly.

"But bad execution," he said as he pulled away from her to put his hands on her cheeks, making her stare at him. "Don't listen to him. I love you," he said seriously.

"I know..." she said, looking him in the eyes. "But..." She looked down, sorrowful.

"He's jealous, he thinks he's a better choice for you," he said as he released her cheeks to take her hands.

"What?" she asked confused.

"Yeah, he's been in love with you for a while. I've tried to contain it as much as I can."

"Oh..." she said crestfallen and thoughtful. "Don't torture him too much," she looked back into his eyes, "he's got enough, the poor guy," and he rolled his eyes as she let go of his hands, but he had no choice. "I'm sure he knows it from the others," she said annoyed as she leaned her buttocks on the edge of the desk, arms folded. "Maybe it's time to come forward..." She sighed deeply, thoughtfully and worriedly as he raised his arms and rested his head in his hands.

She didn't like having a secret relationship, but she was aware of the opinion others had of her partner. It made her sick to remember it now, but in the beginning she thought badly of him too. How things had changed... She fell completely at his feet, but she had no regrets — he gave her no reason to do so, surprisingly.

"I don't give a fuck about what they think of me," he said nonchalantly, "but I know that unfortunately you don't," he huffed in annoyance, lowering his arms. "Are you sure about that? You know their first impression of me wasn't a good one."

"Why is that?" She said sarcastically, to which he couldn't help but laugh, moving closer to her, dangerously close, and placing one of his hands on the side of her hips, dropping the weight of his body on his arm and ducking his head and gaze.

"I can behave, you know that," he said smirking, and also leering.

"You can when you shut your mouth because you want them to think you're Bob," she reminded him without returning his gaze, still slightly annoyed, but he knew it wasn't personal but with the situation.

"I'll try," he laughed quietly, "just for you," he said softer now, sweeter, "mm?" He asked as he lifted and moved her chin in his direction with the index finger of his free hand, causing her to look back at him. She couldn't help but smile, albeit tiredly, and nodded her head silently. But then he leaned closer to kiss her on the cheek, now provoking a genuine smile and a slight blush on her.

[f1cflcfic]

Won't Say I'm In Love (SMAU ft. Lando Norris) - bonus part three

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader; past carlos alcaraz x fem!reader

summary: As a general rule, y/n does not date athletes. You've been there, done that - would not recommend. Besides, you definitely don't do love. There's no time in the world for complicated feelings when there's a career Grand Slam to be won. But what if your heart just refuses to listen?

genre: social meda/mixed au, friends to lovers, tbd

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons or events

series: part i, part ii, part iii, part iv, part v, part vi, part vii. part viii, part ix, part x, part xi, part xii, part xiii, tbd.

bonus: one, two

author's note: This is a bonus part, and not a regular update! I just wanted to celebrate Lando getting P2 in Imola + me feeling a lot better after this weekend.

author's note 2: Did I look up how to spell Montréal (with or without the accent aigu) on the website of the Canadian government? ... Yes, yes I did.

author's note 3: also, remember when I said these bonus parts would all be lando's pov? I lied :D This one is all y/n. The remaining two will be his, though. Hope you enjoy!

June 14-15: Montréal GP 2025

There’s nerves fluttering around your stomach when you rush over to congratulate him after qualifying. They’re certainly not butterflies, you tell yourself. It's just because you shouldn't be here, but you are, anyways.

“Oh my god – congratulations!”

He grins, hugging you back when you fling your arms around his neck. “Pole position baby! I told you!” Lando yells, laughing in your ear. It’s unfiltered and pure, and you close your eyes for a moment just to bask in the sound of joy.

When you open them, there’s someone from McLaren wearing a headset hovering nearby, looking on in what seems to be a mix of both amusement and impatience. You instantly let go of Lando. All of a sudden, you realise that it's nost just the one employee. Everyone's crowding around the two of you it seems – not out of the same sense of euphoria you felt just seconds ago, but out of business mode.

They all need something from him, and that trumps your wants.

Because, shit. You want.

Maybe Coco was right.

Maybe Montréal and New York aren’t really that close, and maybe returning a ‘lucky’ bucket hat doesn’t fully justify making the trip to someone who’s in the midst of a championship battle with his teammate and could use the support, even when he is adamant that he is not superstitious.  

Maybe you’d been a little too easy when offered an opportunity to spend more time with him before you’re off playing grass and he’s on summer break.  Maybe, just maybe a part of you likes Lando more than you’re allowing yourself to acknowledge.

It’s a terrifying thought.

“He did good, eh?” Max nudges your shoulder, inadvertently keeping you from spiralling on the spot as Lando gets swept up in debriefs and media and what all else. “S gonna make it so much easier,” he continues as he settles into a chair, then waves at where Lando’s dad is sitting with his manager.

“Yeah, he did,” you echo absentmindedly. A replay of his best lap comes on a nearby screen. “He is good,” and you mean it in more ways than one.

Adam walks over now, big smile on his face as he first squeezes Max’ and then your shoulder. “You must be so proud,” you smile.  

“I’m always proud. But he finally seems comfortable in this car. I’m just happy that he is happy,” Adam replies. “Plus, he is always happier when you’re around.”

He says it like it’s obvious, without looking at any of you in particular. All of you, then, you think. Max, you, Keegan.

His roots. His support system. His friends. Plural.

It’s not meant to rattle you, but it does.

Because Lando thrives on friendship and connection, and he loves being supportive in return. He gives like his heart won’t ever run out of room. It’s never conditional, never something that must be negotiated. And it makes you feel so lucky, but it isn’t a singular experience. You’re one of his close friends, and you’re happy he has Max, and Keegan, and Ria, and Carlos. And it’s always been fine. You didn’t need to be singular. Never wanted or needed to hear Adam saying something like that about just you.

Except now you don’t know where friendship ends and feelings begin, and for the first time ever, maybe you want there to be a singular you, not a plural one meant for his friends in general.

And that? That might be a problem.

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

So you try and detach for a little. It’s easy to avoid Lando when he’s the race winner, and you can entertain yourself by hanging with Carlos and Rebecca for a good while. Besides, the hotel rooftop bar is crowded, completely filled with F1 crew and guests. It somehow makes it easier to blend into the background, observe from afar as the clock ticks down on your impromptu stay.

Lando has been drifting around the room, saying hi and accepting congratulations or doling them out in return. But he always ends up looking over at your corner. Checking if you’re still there, knowing just as well that time is running out.

When he finds his way back to you, there’s relief evident on his face. “For a second I was afraid I’d have to celebrate without you. Pole and a race win! Maybe it’s not the pasta, or the bracelets, or the flowers. Maybe it’s just you,” Lando says breathlessly, cheeky smile on display. As if he knows he shouldn’t have, but couldn’t help himself and let the words escape him anyways.

His smile only widens when you roll your eyes at him. “Sure, or maybe it’s Max, or Keegan, or your Quadrant cap, or the way in which you put your socks on the other way around when you got in the car today.”

His eyes crinkle and he giggles, cheeks still a little ruddy from the exertion – or maybe from laughter or the earlier champagne.

You feel stupid the second the words come out your mouth. “You have such a nice smile,” is absolutely not a normal thing to say to your best friend. You know this, and yet here you are, spilling your guts as if trying to expel all the butterflies that have taken up residency there as of late.

Lando’s smile turns blinding at the compliment, his pleased reaction clear in the way his voice goes up the octave as he answers with a bashful “really? Thank you”. Like he can’t quite believe you’d say those words to him and mean them.

Which is actually awful, because he does have a nice smile. The nicest. When he smiles, he beams, his entire face scrunching up in delight. No, Lando Norris doesn’t do pure happiness in small doses. For a millisecond, your treacherous brain conjures up a vivid image of what it’d feel like to trace his lips with your tongue – to steal the laughter right out of his mouth as it bubbles up from deep inside his chest, and to commit the shape of his smile to memory. Especially the small gap between his front teeth, and everything else that makes him so frustratingly handsome. Everything you’ve maybe always noticed, but not like this. Never like this.

“You look pretty, too. You always do,” he says, belatedly. His hand reaches up all of a sudden, softly cradling your cheeks that have gone hot from the earlier embarrassment of confessing how much you like his laugh. His fingers are cool against your skin, and your eyes track the movement for a beat, then flick back to watch him instead.

There’s something in his gaze you haven’t seen before. Affection, sure, but there’s something else. Something deeper. Heat, you think. His lips part, and your gaze involuntarily drifts downwards to witness just how his tongue peeks out to wet them.

For a moment, you consider leaning in. To give in to whatever weird pull you’ve been feeling today. But it’s gone just as quick when Carlos thrusts a drink in both your hands, only belatedly realising that he’s perhaps interrupted something. “Here’s your – oh.”

Spell broken, Lando’s hand falls away and you look anywhere but at him. “Thanks, you’re the best for this,” you say as you take a sip from your Coke Zero, hoping it’ll cool the sudden heat crawling up and down your skin.

“To champions,” Carlos raises his drink, Lando following with his own. “May we be them, may we befriend them, may we beat them.”

Another sip. Your skin still burns.

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

It is maybe 30 minutes later when you start slowly making the rounds, dropping in and out of conversations to say bye or see you soon. Max notices the backpack and weekend bag first. He frowns. “Are you leaving now? In the middle of the party?”

“Yeah. Don’t want to miss my flight. Literally playing and touching grass tomorrow,” you wink. He snorts and pulls you in for a quick hug.

“Good seeing you today, Fewtrell. And don’t forget to send me the link to that bag,” you nod at Pietra, pointing at her clutch. “I love it.”

She nods, stepping closer to hug you next. “I can do that. Have a safe flight, text us when you land.”

Then there’s Lando. Somehow, the interaction feels heavy all of a sudden. Uncomfortable. The rooftop feels too small. He’s too close, there’s too many people around, and you’ve got a plane to catch right back to reality.

In an attempt to get it over with, you rush forward to give him an awkward hug. “Thank you for coming,” he whispers, breath warm against your neck. “It meant a lot to me.”

His grip on your waist tightens briefly, but then you pull away from him and flash a quick smile at the rest of the group. The corner of his mouth pulls downward. You try not to notice as you give Keegan a side-hug, before all but running out.

It’s weird, having left with just a wave and a nod. Your stomach’s all up in knots about it, and you can’t quite explain to yourself why everything had felt wrong all of a sudden. So when not even three minutes later Lando texts you, it feels a lot like relief. Because whatever that goodbye was – it clearly left both of you wanting.

You can't help but grin when you cancel your Uber, and grin even wider when Lando pulls up with a car that’s way too expensive but looks sleek and powerful in the dark. The window rolls down. “Get in birdie,” he smirks, then jumps out to open the door for you and stow your luggage away.

It’s familiar, sitting in a car next to Lando whose eyes are focused on the road. You’ve done that a thousand times before. But it’s different all the same. Because you’re both quiet, and the air is thick with tension that only seems to build, instead of dissipate over time. So you find yourself tracking the way his fingers flex around the wheel, how his arm rests on the console, how his necklace sometimes flickers when the street lights hit it just so.

“Y/N? We’re here,” Lando seemingly repeats as he turns off the engine. Right. It’s been forty minutes since he left his own celebratory party, just to spend more time with you. Time you spent in total silence, trying to ignore what it is that you want.

“Were you even paying any attention? You were so quiet,” he asks, his elbow jabbing your arm jokingly.

You grab it, pretending the only reason you’ve encircled his wrist is to keep him from moving. “Stop assaulting me, and let me have a look at the time on that expensive watch of yours.”

He huffs out a laugh but quiets, allows you to manoeuvre his arm just so.  “S not that late yet. Think an Uber driver could’ve done that?” Lando comments triumphantly, and your lips twitch.

He pulls away.

“C’mon. I’ll walk with you. I know you get antsy if you're not extremely early.”

Once you step out of the car, and your weekend bag is slung over Lando’s shoulder, the silence descends once more. The parking lot is quiet, and while the car might’ve drawn attention elsewhere, it’s easy for you both to hide in the shadows now.

You try to suppress the urge to fill it with rambling, but there’s also not much else to say. There was no reason for him to leave his own celebratory party, just so he could spend another forty minutes with you.

But here he is.

Here you are.

Stretching whatever time you have.

Lando breaks first, starts talking nonsense about the people he’s happy to avoid by being here with you instead. His empty hand is flying through the air as he gesticulates wildly, and you can’t help but giggle.

“Are you even listening to what I’m saying?” He questions, and you don’t even pretend otherwise.

“Your hand’s so distracting, it’s telling its own story.”

Lando stops walking, turns fully to you as he frowns. “What do you mean?”

“You talk with your hands. They’re always moving,” you muse, but then his expression falls even further.

“It’s not a bad thing,” you rush out in an attempt to fix it, “it’s actually kind of sexy.”

Too much, you think immediately. Why would you say that out loud, when you hadn’t even really formed an articulate thought about it?

“Sexy?” Lando questions almost disbelievingly as he stares down at his own hand.

You nod hesitantly. “Yeah. I can say that, right? Cause we’re best friends. And I can find my friend’s hands sexy. Objectively.”

It feels like playing with fire, saying these things. Allowing those thoughts to live out there, instead of in your head. Waiting with bated breath for whatever Lando might say in return. If he’ll draw the line, if he’ll let you blur it a bit more. If he’ll confirm that you are friends.

Best friends. Just friends.

Fuck, maybe you don’t want to be just friends.

“Right. Yeah,” he clears his throat. Pauses for a second. “Maybe you should hold it then. So I won’t move it and you won’t get distracted.”

For the first time that evening, you wish for more lights – just so you could read his expression. It’s hard to know if he’s being serious. Then again, how serious are you? You don't know that either, but you do know that you’re in it now, and with feigned bravado you smile at him.

“Maybe I should,” you repeat, then slot your hand into his. Perhaps it’s the fact that you’ve accidentally held hands just the other day, or maybe it’s muscle memory from nights spent at crowded clubs. But somehow, holding hands with Lando feels entirely ... natural.

As if you've always done it. It’s just that your head is spinning from how normal it feels.

And yet it also feels fragile, fleeting. As if the second you’d try to capture this, it’d be gone. So you don’t talk, instead allow his thumb to ghost over your hand – just shy of a caress, and pretend everything's normal until you reach the Departures terminal.

Lando comes to a halt then. You retract your hand and he lets you. You almost wish he didn’t. But then he pulls you in a tight hug instead, lips close to your ear as he confesses how much it sucks that you’re leaving already. How much he’s going to miss you, especially at Silverstone. “I’m gonna miss you too. And I’m gonna miss these hugs,” you say with a small laugh.

Your hands are around his neck, and it would have been so easy to reach up and tug on his curls. But he’s cut them recently, so all you find is smooth skin and the touch of cold metal when your fingers skim his necklace.

Heat creeps into your face as you realise all of a sudden that this is, once again, far too much. The moment's run away from you, and now you're hugging too long, the smell of him is too comforting, and the touching too familiar.

It’s like quicksand. The moment you try and resist it - when you start to struggle, the sand will pull you straight back in even further.

And the moment you pull away from Lando, is the moment you realise just how close your faces are. You can feel his breath on your lips, the flutter of his eyelashes as he blinks, gaze flickering between your eyes and lips for just a second. Your heart is beating in your throat, and you wonder briefly if Lando might hear it, if he might feel it if he’d position his hand just right. Your own eyes fall to his lips, see the way his tongue darts out like he always does when he’s nervous, and all of a sudden the world around you fades away while you move to close the distance altogether.

His lips are soft, and he tastes like pineapple and his stupid cinnamon mints. It makes you smile into the kiss, because it’s good and delicious. It’s so familiar and it’s so Lando to be eager yet demanding all at once. He tries to pull you in even closer as the kiss turns heated, his tongue licking into your mouth, hand sliding further down your waist.

Impulsive as it is, you’re also immediately greedy. Because you might not allow yourself to ever have this again, even when it’s quite possibly the best first kiss you’ve ever had.

You have no idea how long you stand there, on the corner of a parking lot and the airport entrance – just out of sight, making out like a bunch of teenagers and zero clue as to what it means. His other hand has slid up to hold your face and push some loose strands of hair behind your ear. It’s such a sweet gesture, but it has you gasping into his mouth at the startling realisation that you’re kissing your best friend, and you’re going to miss your flight if this continues.

With heaving chest and a final quick kiss to his now swollen lips, you slowly pull away. A whine almost escapes you when you catch sight of just how thoroughly kissed Lando looks. His pupils are blown, cheeks ruddy, hair all over the place, and he’s smiling that gap-toothed smile of which it’s almost a shame that you can’t see it when you’re kissing him.

God, you know what it’s like to kiss him now. You know what he tastes like. What his hands feel like when they’re grabbing onto you, trying to find purchase so he can pull your body straight into his. And you can’t stop yourself from wanting to do it again. And again. And again.

His hand comes up to once more push back those annoying hairs you always have to fix with a clip when you’re playing tennis, but never bother to do off court.

You fight a smile. “Thanks.”  

“These keep falling in your face,” he points out needlessly, hand lingering to cradle your jaw. He looks so pleased with himself, and you want to kiss the stupid smirk right off his face. But then the time on Lando’s smart watch glares up at you, and while a small part of you feels incredibly satisfied at the increased heartrate on display, it’s also a harsh reality check.

“They were my break-up bangs,” you murmur, trying hard not to let the panic take over, as the weight of what you’ve just done comes crashing down on you.

Fuck.

You’re so fucked. This is your best friend, that you’ve just kissed out of impulsive desire. And you don’t have the time to even talk about it, because you’ve wasted it all making out like a couple of fucking idiots.

“Shit. I have to go.”

Lando’s eyebrows draw together as he prepares to say something in response. It’s then that another wave of panic hits you. Maybe it would actually be worse to talk about it. You take a step back and out of his reach, focusing instead on your weekend bag that he'd set down on the ground earlier.

“Like. Now. Fuck.”

Because as long as you don’t mention this, it will be like it didn’t happen, and you don’t need to think about the consequences. Maybe this flight’s boarding time isn’t a curse, but a blessing in disguise.

As you hoist the bag onto your shoulder, he reaches out – wordlessly fixing the position of the strap for you so it sits comfortably across your chest and back.

He knows you’ve run out of time, too. There’s no point in addressing the elephant in the room now. So he just gives a strained smile, hand moving down from your shoulder before landing at your hand again. He squeezes it once. “Text me when you’re there, yeah? Have a good flight, birdie.”

If only you were less of a coward, less afraid of your own heart jumping out of your chest, you’d have squeezed back. Instead, all you offer is another nod and wave, and then you're gone - hand pressed to your lips all the way to your gate.

♥ likes, comments, reblogs and asks are always very much appreciated - i love chatting and hearing your thoughts! ♥

taglist (open): @linnygirl09 @julesbog @midnight-and-books @sarx164 @obxstiles @freyathehuntress @vhkdncu2ei8997 @berrnuu @lightdragonrayne @glow-ish @batsratswrites @blushmimi @colmathgames2 @esw1012 @sadiemack9 @tremendousstarlighttragedy @awritingtree @its-elias-world @pandora108 @tremendousstarlighttragedy @sarah-thatstings-ann

[seokminfilm]

graduation — y jeonghan & j wonwoo

PAIRING 𐂴 yoon jeonghan x reader x jeon wonwoo

TAGS & WARNINGS 𐂴 non-idol au, high school au, hinted love triangle, fluff, hurt/comfort, a little angst, skinship, jeonghan calls reader honey (even tho they aren't dating), mutual pining goes CRAZY, romantic tension ALSO goes crazy, jeonghan wants reader but wonwoo also lowkey wants reader too, open ending

SUMMARY 𐂴 graduation had a way of bringing you, jeonghan, and wonwoo closer together.

LYR'S SIDENOTES 𐂴 requested by liza (@kissbyoon)!! she said i could write for either jeonghan or wonwoo but i didn't want to choose so..here we are!! a fic that could be emotionally damaging and too cute for either you OR me to handle!! i'm so sick i miss them so badly 😭 here's my way of comforting (or hurting LMAO SORRY) both wonwoo stans AND jeonghan stans!! love u guys we'll make it 🙏

NOW PLAYING 𐂴 beanie (chezile) (note: yes i've probably used this song 6 times in the past week....yes i'm in a phase)

WORD COUNT 1.5k 𐂴 FOR @kstrucknet

the cold water of jeonghan's pool perfectly reflected the night sky, tiny stars sprayed throughout the darkness that winked at you with every blink of your eyes.

you and your best friends jeonghan and wonwoo sat by the pool, quietly thinking about the last few days of your high school years: the three of you had graduated tonight, and each of you was moving on to bigger things. it was somber, watching your faces reflect in the pool's shimmering water.

you were all getting older, whether you wanted to or not. you saw how wonwoo's jawline was getting sharper, and noticed how jeonghan's voice became more velvety and deep over the past few months.

"you have that look on your face, honey," jeonghan's voice comes from beside you, and you come back to the present, eyes going to jeonghan's smirking face. shaking your head, you shrug, dipping your finger in the water.

"what look?" you question innocently, and wonwoo speaks up, dark eyes already on your body, running up and down your skin.

"that faraway look you have on your face when you're thinking about something." wonwoo's voice is low and deep as it runs along your spine, and you can't help but chuckle, kicking your feet under the water.

"we're getting older, guys. things are changing, whether i want them to or not," you say, finally hearing how the words sound on your lips. jeonghan and wonwoo both stare at you, enamored with how you look as the moonlight hits your skin.

"you just realized that?" jeonghan teases, and wonwoo cringes, fingers going to the bridge of his nose as he grimaces. you laugh aloud, reveling in how good it feels to do so.

"seriously, though—we expected this, didn't we? high school is over. now, we're heading to college. if you ask me, now's our time to live it up." jeonghan shrugs, trying to lighten the mood. his brown eyes dart to you, trying to measure your reaction.

even though jeonghan's statement is true, it doesn't sound very good. you have the same look in your eyes, and wonwoo notices it too, hand going out to hold yours as he looks at you from behind his lenses.

"i know you're going to miss school. even though we joked about how much we wouldn't—" wonwoo pauses, sighing as he softly smiles at you. "we started crying the moment we received our diplomas."

even jeonghan can't deny it, chuckling in embarrassment to himself as you glance over at him, smiling. it was true—jeonghan was the main one saying how much he hated coming to school, but the moment his name was called to walk across the stage, he took one good look at you and wonwoo and started tearing up.

"i hate you, wonu," jeonghan frowns playfully, and you laugh again, voice ringing like a chorus of angels to jeonghan and wonwoo.

"i'm gonna miss you guys," you say after a few moments of silence, and both jeonghan and wonwoo go silent at that thought, hearts breaking at the thought of you being without them.

"i'm not leaving you. i would never even think about leaving you." wonwoo says with a finality in his voice, brown eyes serious as he stares at you. jeonghan places a hand on your thigh, nodding as the usual mirth in his eyes fades for a split second. "me either."

all three of you knew there was some unresolved tension between you: ever since you guys met in middle school, there was something between jeonghan and wonwoo that related to you. you were the reason jeonghan and wonwoo became friends in the first place, and they owed their friendship to you and then some.

you had shown them both something that both were convinced they wouldn't learn without you.

you had shown them what love felt like.

the air suddenly felt heavy, and jeonghan couldn't look away from you, throat bobbing as he watched your pretty eyes watch the ripples dance through the water. wonwoo watched you too, silently studying the slope of your nose and the length of your eyelashes as you smiled to yourself.

time seemed to still, and you with it, frozen in a place of innocence as jeonghan and wonwoo watched at you from the outside in.

this would be a distant memory in the future, a time when you'd look back and joyously recall the awkward moments you shared with jeonghan and wonwoo. awkward moments that were truly just simple, tender moments that neither jeonghan nor wonwoo would forget (or care to admit).

for now, though, they were content with watching you dip your feet in the pool the night of graduation.

[catsushinyakajima]

Asterika's Spring Sem fic recs!

The Promise by drschnz | 67.6k | College AU | Summer Vacation

Gets into Keith's anxiety and paranoia soooo well. You see how his problems cause problems and how his fears and actions are percieved by others and atdghdhdd. Beach house fic on top. Sooo much build up with such a satisfying confrontation. Loved it.

Bang by vanitashaze | 18.9k | Smut | Autism/ADHD

Holy shit you guys. First off, the author has the funniest language ever, they write totally the way Lance would think. Second off, this fic addresses ideas like consent, body image, capabilities of enforcing boundaries, and self-respect so well! This is fully a smut, but it's a very autistic smut (smut between autistic people, focuses more of the autism). So fucking realistic and good.

Part Time Soulmate, Full Time Problem by StillKicking/@still--kicking | 54.8k+ | Soulmate AU | Canon-Compliant

THIS FIC IS SO ARGHH! Soulmate au with both POVs?? Sign me tf up. Love seeing how they affect each other and how they think the other perceives them (only to be dead wrong). There is sooo much teamwork in this (CUZ THEY MAKE A GOOD TEAM AND THE AUTHOR KNOWS IT). This fic is beyond beautiful and I'm so excited to see where it goes.

Walk With Me by bluemantics/@bluemantics | 15.7k+ (2/3) | Post-Canon | Mutual Pining

Post canon Klance...dumbasses Klance...WHAT MORE CAN I SAY? These folks got their baggage they refuse to talk about and a bunch of unsaid romance and background adashi im dead. im dead. Im on the floor.THEY JUST GET EACH OTHER!!

love me to my bones (all this time) by ShatterinSeconds/@shatterinseconds | 8k | Post-Canon | Ace!Keith

So any ace fic at all deserves to be put in the hall of fame, but an ace fic from the allosexual POV? AUGH! It's so indulgent to see Lance talk about Keith so respectfully and love him and try his best. And he's never giving up anything to stay with Keith. Also they're dumbasses.

Grin and Bear It by loadingboy/@loadingboy | 192k+ | Brainwashing | Heavy Angst with an eventual comfort

So no list of mine is complete without a fic that induces psychological warfare on the mind. you guys. I read 10 chaps of this fic in four hours. That's how into it I got. I got sooo much tension reading this. Zack is the king of pacing a story. You always recieve snippets of information, but never the full picture, and I ALWAYS WANT MOREEEE. The parts that hurt hurt soo much and the parts that are normal somehow hurt too! I'm not a very emotional reader, but if you are, you will cry reading this EL O EL

vicodin on sunday nights by lykak | 118k | High school AU | Homophobia

You guys. This is the real enemies to lovers. Like! ARGH, Lance has sooo many issues it's not even funny and Keith's existence hurts him it's not even a rival thing. And somehow something beautiful blossoms out of it. Lots of fights, realizations, bonds being made, so much! Truly shows the ups and downs of a closeted high school jock.

been living in a lonesome galaxy by Katranga | 25.1k+ (4/5) | College AU | Friends with Benefits

If someone tells you I have over twenty rereads of this fic no I fucking don't definitely not! Ha! Haha...but fr. This is one of my FAV college aus. First off: Love autistic keith. LOVE HIM. Love Keith and Lance being good for each other. Every interaction with them is so cute. Indescribably so. And Keith, this guy is navigating through so many life issues! People do him dirty smh. I LOVE THIS FIC!!

kick at the darkness by ilgaksu | 61.2k | Dirty Dancing AU | 1960s US issues

I fucking love learning things from a fic. Actual educational fic. Love an author who knows things, so much things, to the point that the fic is deadly accurate. Also, the prose is insane. Beautiful. This fic deals with real life issues during the 1960s in US. We see issues with money, power, race, gender, sexuality, etc. It's all explored. Also...dirty dancing au!

I'd Love to See Me From Your Point of View (For All of My Pretty and All of My Ugly, Too) by mothmanavenue/@mothmanavenue | 5.9k | Fluff | Pining

So much fucking pining. Lance is so down bad. Almost as down bad as I am for this fic. God, they're so cute. They're so couple-y. We really see how Keith makes Lance feel cared for. Ykw, I'm actually about to go reread this NOW. PEACE YALL.

[bird-prince-art]

Idk if you read fic but do you have any Obikin fic recs? Your art makes me want to read some 🙏

I absolutely have fics for you anon and I am honored my art makes you want some.

Some of my favorite fics, in absolutely no order:

Patience by Why_is_my_nose_a_carrot: I think probably the fic that got me into obikin specifically. AU where Qui-Gon is Anakin's master, but Obi-Wan stays his best friend. Very slowburn, but my god. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon's relationship, the way they write Obi and Ani as friends, UGH! Apparently the author got a lot of flack for this fic for some reason so if you do read it give them love, or at the very least don't harrass them jfc.

Something Blue by @darthwillies : Really love this fic and its concept. Obi-Wan marries uncrispy Vader in order to secure galaxy wide peace, now we witness their domestic "bliss". I think this fic is probably my favorite depiction of Vaderkin, someone who is still desperate to be forgiven, but only by the ones who matter. Desperate enough for love to keep it prisoner but still resentful of the reminder. And poor Obi-Wan, proud but insecure. The dynamic is very intriguing to me.

Amarilli by @darthwillies : Since I'm already talking about Graciously's work, I have to recommend this one as well. Obi-Wan realizes he has feelings for Anakin, panics, confesses, panics again. It's great. I love this fic not only because it's so beautifully written, but because the entire time I was reading it I just kept thinking how real it was. Everyone's reaction to The Feelings, the confession conversation, the aftermath conversation. All of it is so in character and believable. The end is great, and it left me wanting more.

Conceal Me What I Am by @himboskywalker : Cat's out of the bag, I LOVE arranged marriage AUs. And this one is so good. Senator Obi-Wan marries Jedi Anakin in order to help the Jedi/Republic's image during the war. But Anakin's an Omega posing as an Alpha! And Obi-Wan's an Alpha posing as a Beta! What will they do??? Fall in love about it obviously. The slow-burn and build-up is so good, I had to read it all in one sitting because I was desperate for them to finally be together.

An Unlikely Duo by @grapenehifics : Modern setting where total opposites Anakin and Obi-Wan fall in love with each other. Super sappy sweet fic that explores their relationship as it grows. There're so many little details in this fic that I just adore, and everytime I re-read they make me go awwwwww all over again. It also inspired me to make Ani and Obi in Animal Crossing.

Across the Stars by @unfortunate17 : Yes, I love this fic. Yes, it makes me bite my nails worrying about their future. Anakin is a time traveler who always travels to Obi-Wan. It's so sweet and the concept is so interesting. Without spoiling, the way the story unfolds is super interesting narratively speaking and is fleshed out enough to give you some ideas about why the traveling happens. Idk man just read it you won't be disappointed.

be careful not to choke on your admirations by @tennessoui : Thank you to this fic for making me google Who Is Korkie Star Wars. (I'm trying to finish TCW don't RUSH me Katie) Anakin babysits for hot dilf divorcee Obi-Wan, who he is desperately in love with. Honestly I love all of tennessoui's work so you should read all of them, but this fic is my go to. I love the flow of their conversations, the way that Obi-Wan is so obviously crazy about Anakin and Anakin is of course oblivious. Your honor, they're a little family. I love them.

Heartbeat Drives You Mad by @renlyslittlerose : Everything about this fic is entirely excellent. Depressed alcoholic Obi-Wan falls in love with his hot young neighbor in the 80's. What more could you want. Come for Anakin in short-shorts and stay for Obi-Wan's complex journey to healing. I really love the translation of Anakin's character in this fic, and the way that Obi-Wan describes him. 10/10 read it now.

the root of peony by @tideswept : Anakin and Obi-Wan served in the Napoleonic Wars, now they deal with the aftermath. I love doctor Obi-Wan and I LOVE their relationship in this fic. This fic is simultaneously very cozy, angsty, and sweet. I love the way that their relationship develops, and I love the world building.

are you mine tomorrow by @jedibongrip : I just read this fic again and I forgot how sweet it was. Obi-Wan finds Anakin on Tatooine during the war, and marries him in a green-card marriage so that Anakin can stay on Coruscant. Even though this is an Obi-Wan centric fic, I love how you can constantly feel Anakin's presence and his love throughout the fic. Obi-Wan is so silly, your husband loves you, idiot.

Lux Æterna by @obiwanobi : Hey do you want to be sad? Read this. It's a surprise :) Beautiful. I can't believe you've done this.

Obi-Two by @virahaus : I love this concept and I love the way it's written. Post-Prequel Obi-Wan is sent to the council meeting where Anakin is denied the rank of master. I love a sassy huffy Obi-Wan and this fic has TWO sassy Obi-Wans. I also love the idea of Obi-Wan becoming significantly less Jedi as time goes on, and I love how this fic depicts that.

OKAY this got a bit out of hand so I'm going to stop here. If you'd like more I'd be happy to supply some, and if you have any recommendations for me please send them!

[olderthannetfic]

So I'm not looking for validation because I'm aware that I'm 101% the asshole here, but I need to get this off my chest.

I don't want to make "real" friends in fandom.

I come to fandom for escapism, and I look for fandom community online because it's a very, very rare hobby where I'm from and I have nowhere else to engage with it. I want fandom friends. I want to talk Blorbo, HC, AU, OTP, NoTP.

I already have friends in real life to discuss politics, work, family and what color I'm doing my nails this week - people who are from the same socio-cultural and religious background as me.

But I keep running into truly wonderful people in fandom who are very much looking to "deepen" our friendships beyond fandom (which is understandable! People look for community and friends! Good for them!) and I don't know how to tell them that no, this is not what I want.

Online fandom is very West- (and especially US-) centric and life there is so far removed from my reality that any personal interaction beyond entry-level "I'm from ABC, work XYZ, married, weather is nice" devolves into me being a cultural ambassador on the positive end of the spectrum, or being told something low/high key racist or ignorant on the negative end.

And while I love being a cultural ambassador once in a while, that's not a basis for actual, personal friendship to me. I don't want to explain all the personal and social pressures due to which I have to care for my husband's aging parents, for example, and discuss the state of feminism and #girlboss and my place in it before I'm able to lightly vent about family. I'd rather go straight to Blorbo Hot and let the vent dissipate by itself or save it for a personal friend later.

So while I appreciate that my fandom friends are truly nice, interesting, intelligent people, I do not want to talk about my personal life, I will not discuss theirs so as not to invite reciprocal questions, and I will hope they understand that Blorbo Talk is already literally the deepest, most meaningful thing that they are uniquely equipped to gift me with.

I do feel terrible for nipping in the bud sincere attempts to "deepen" friendships, but I do not want that. I try to be the best fandom friend I can, but if you're not at least somewhat personally familiar with the realities of my culture already, my personal life is off the table.

And this is all, really. Thanks for lending me your front porch, OTNF!

--

Sounds legit. If it's that much effort to explain the context for the vent, venting won't be letting off steam: it will be work.

[violenteconomics]

I suddenly remembered your 7 man band au when you appeared on my dash, The concept reminded me of kpop idol debut shows, like imagine they only went because the company offered money for getting pass screening but after that you can get booted off so they join, they pass, they get money, theyre ready to hop of this show but plot twist, their made to join the first ep, sure why not more money and it doesn't sacrifice much school time but now they keep winning in the show to the point they fear they might actually be forced to debut as a boyband/Kpop group

i'm gonna be honest, the way u phrased this was h i l a r i o u s.

like imagine there's a popular tv show in twisted wonderland (let's call it "powerline's power stars", based off of that one pop star from "a goofy movie") that's famous for launching the careers of its contestants into the mainstream once they debut. neige and vil both were on it, so of course all of pomefiore knows about it.

epel hears that you can get 500 thaumarks just for signing up to audition, and ANOTHER 500 for actually making it past screening. they all think "why not, money's money" (jack and sebek are just glad they're not going through with ortho's suggestion of making a visual novel gacha game with hot boy characters to attract the "whales", whatever THAT means), and they take a weekend off to shoot their audition tape.

at first they just want to send in their audition, take the money, and leave -- but apparently they're actually pretty good, because one of the producers calls them and says they made it onto "powerline's power stars". they try to back out of it, but as soon as they're promised 1000 thaumarks just for showing up for the shooting, they zoom out of night raven college at record speed.

(well, okay, they do actually write their housewarden some notes explaining why they're not there. the notes themselves are in varying quality, ranging from epel's "money" written in purple glitter pen on a piece of notebook paper and left on vil's doorstep, to sebek's tearful, 10-page long apology in squid ink and delivered via raven.)

when they get on "powerline's power stars", the audience falls in love with them. their chemistry is so good to watch -- a little bullying, incredibly affectionate, and most importantly, surprisingly in-sync despite how much they argue. and their performances are top-notch, always following some kind of theme based on one of the great seven (they are nrc students after all, might as well represent them while they're at it). their creativity and group dynamics easily make them among the the most popular contestants on the show.

the show takes this and markets them in advertisements BRILLIANTLY. sebek and jack are the straight-laced, tsundere-like yet very passionate and protective types. ace and epel are the mischevious, pranking, little shit types, except epel hides it under a delicate facade and a quiet voice. deuce and ortho are the chlidish, overly-excited types who are just there to support their friends and do their best. and yuu is the glue that keeps them together, the ever-present cheerleader, always cheering them on and keeping their spirits up no matter what.

AND EVERYONE EATS THIS SHIT UPPPPPP THE VIEWERSHIP AND RATINGS FOR "POWERLINE'S POWER STARS" GO THROUGH THE FUCKING ROOF AFTER THE FIRST ADVERTISEMENT FEATURING THE FIRST-YEARS, AND THEY PASS THROUGH EVERY ROUND WITHOUT FAIL.

the first-years, on the other hand, are more concerned with the amount of money they're raking in for every round they pass. they're so invested in their new capital, they don't realize how good they're doing until it's announced in the final round that they won the whole thing, and will now signing on with the official "powerline" music brand.

when they're told that they're now actually expected to write an album and make more music videos, instead of being excited, they're like "F U C K we actually have to do WORK now UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH."

(obviously, they give in and do it, because money is money.)

(...ykw, i'm actually fucking with this idea pretty hard lol. i might make it part of the "seven-man band" canon. like this is the random contest that they joined and that's why their famous now.)

[zraiusxo]

love the way you write hange. so sad you stopped 'a game of composure' for a while, but your other fics are great too!!! ❤️ but can i request nerdmin x fem!reader? PLEASE. i need more nerdmin oneshots. with yk frat boy eren, connie hosting the best parties, art student jean, sasha your first campus friend and gothkasa who's just- there. wherever eren is. even hange as our professor lol. reader's from a rich family, but that doesn't mean her parents are controlling in every aspect you know. they let her decide what she wants. you can decide the rest, fluff? sure, would love that. smut? yes spice it up! ignore this if u don't want to! ❤️

♡ part 2 (smut) warnings: suggestive content, alcohol consumption, curse words, substance used, lewd humor, crude jokes, suggestive dares, public intimacy, all characters are aged up. not proofread.

Armin Arlert College AU ♡

Your mother called it a phase. Your father, ever more dramatic, called it a downgrade.

To them, Stohess University wasn’t even on the map. And even if it was, it certainly wasn’t anywhere near the ivy-covered brick walls of the institutions they'd spent your life grooming you into an elegant and dignified lady for.

But you didn’t want to be in another university where everyone was already rich and miserable.

So you transferred. Out of your private, exclusive, east coast academy and into a chaotic, loud and messy public university where people wore pajamas to class and professors said “fuck” in lectures.

And oh, it was perfect! You didn't have to stress about keeping your name clean because the principal was acquainted to your parents, didn't have to worry about making connections with your peers who also belonged to wealthy and influential families.

Except, nobody talked to you at first. Well, that was a given.

You stood awkwardly right by the entrance of the campus, looking completely out of place, dressed in designer from head to toe. Other students gave you condescending looks, looking as if you had gotten lost on your way to your super posh and distinguished private academy.

Though you hadn't quite minded, your branded mary janes clicking against the tiles as you entered the hall, steps measured. Cause you knew you did look out of place. Like you didn't belong here, and maybe that's because you didn't.

Finding your way to your first class wasn't much of a challenge, the building layout was simple and you managed to arrive at lecture hall 2 minutes before the bell rang. You sat at the very back, just by the door. You didn't want to bring unwanted attention to yourself.

The few remaining students spilled in with soft chatters, and your professor followed shortly after the bell rang with a loud greeting of good morning that echoed off the walls and woke up sleeping students with a flinch. They looked— well, rather disorderly. But they taught well, even when most of the students weren't listening, sleeping or when someone would impolitely talk over them.

You sat straight. Didn’t interrupt. Only taking down notes, cause you were actually listening. Then came a chirpy voice a seat away from you, bright and breezy. "Hey, you're new." That was her first line. She said it like you were a gift she’d been waiting for. “I’m Sasha! You’re gorgeous. We’re friends now.” Sasha moved to the seat beside you casually, a little grin on her face.

"Hello, Sasha. I'm Y/N. Pleasure to meet you." You held out your hand for a handshake, offering a kind smile. But instead of shaking your hand, the brunette gave you a high-five instead, and it left you a little dumbfounded.

She giggled at that, leaning in a little. "Wanna sit with us later at lunch? We're cool I promise!"

"Us?" You asked with a slight tilt of your head.

Sasha glanced to her side, gesturing towards a guy two seats away. "Connie," He looked up lazily, eyes deprived from sleep. He was dressed in an oversized hoodie and joggers with his phone in hand, his hair buzzed and platinum. "This my fancy new friend, pretty right? She speaks in italics. Say hi!”

"Yo," Connie moved beside Sasha with an easy smile, kicking back in the seat before giving you a once-over. "You transferring from Mitras or some? Y'look fly as hell girl."

You chuckled, shrugging. “Private school, yeah.”

“Mmmmhm, yep. Explains the posture. You sit like you got a family name to protect.” He added with a laugh, winking in your direction like a compliment.

It was the start of something. Of people. Of laughter that didn’t echo off chandeliers or clink against champagne glasses.

Bell rang soon enough, and Sasha dragged you to the cafeteria, speed-walking down the hall with Connie who quite literally dapped up almost everyone who passed by. Sasha sat you down beside her and him in their "usual" table, and then came a tall raven-haired girl with dark red lips, long winged eyeliner, and an intimidating silence that somehow wasn’t off-putting.

Sasha waved a cheery hi before wrapping her arm around your shoulder. “Hey Mika! Meet our new friend, Y/N." Mikasa sat down beside you without a word. "Y/N, this is Mikasa. She doesn’t talk much unless you’re Eren, or someone interesting.”

"Eren?" You ask half-heartedly.

Mikasa said nothing at first, just gave you a long, assessing look before offering a subtle nod. Approved. "You'll meet him eventually."

The conversation dragged on, switching topics about who to avoid or when Connie's next party's gonna be cause they wanted you to come experience his parties too, claiming it'd be an unforgettable college experience. They became your people, fast. Connie supplied laughs (and edibles), Sasha helped you adjust to this new environment and Mikasa taught you how to say no to creeps without uttering a word.

You learned about the extended crew— Jean Kirschtein who in one random Tueday noticed your sketchbook in art theory and asked, “Holddd up. You actually know what chiaroscuro means?” You were friends by the time the lecture ended. He was honest and talented, always scribbling on napkins like his hands moved faster than his brain.

Eren was a name you heard often from Mikasa, followed by a groan from Jean or a laugh from Connie. Armin was barely mentioned, usually in academic contexts, like a trivia answer. You hadn’t met them, not that you really cared. Because despite being pulled into this growing web of personalities— you didn’t know everyone.

Sasha had begged you to come yesterday just as you were about to leave, her arm looped around yours as she rested her head against your shoulder sideways.

“Y/N pleeeeasuh? It'll be fun girl. I promise! Like, trust.” she’d whine, wrapping an arm around your shoulders like the persuasive devil she was. “It’s Connie’s party! No one misses his parties. Everyone will be there! Eren. Mikasa. Armin—” She continued, not stopping till you finally agreed to go.

You were overdressed. You knew it the second you stepped out of the Uber with and heard the bass from halfway down the street.

People were everywhere— on the porch, the lawn, halfway up the damn roof. Red solo cups littered the grass like confetti. A guy in a Pikachu onesie was throwing glowsticks into the bushes while someone else chugged something out of a blender. This wasn’t your scene. Nope, definitely not.

The last party you went to had a dress code and valet parking.

Now, standing in front of the door while people screamed along to a song you didn’t recognize, you regretted the tailored black dress and pointed heels. You’d grown up attending galas, banquets, and rooftop champagne soirées.

You were a private-school princess. The kind of girl who grew up sipping champagne at banquets with names like “Winter Charity Gala.”

This was more… frat party, spilled vodka and some girl trying to shake her ass on a folding chair.

You were debating whether to continue walking in or text Sasha you couldn't make it tonight and leave when a loud familiar voice yelled from inside—

“SHE’S HERE Y'ALL,” Sasha launched out of the doorway like a cannonball, dragging you inside before you could even react.

“WELCOME TO THE PIT, BABY!” She screamed over the loud music vibrating against the walls. “RULE ONE: DRINK. RULE TWO: SMOKE WEED!”

You laughed despite your senses being overwhelmed. Strobe lights flickered. Inside was chaotic as hell. And you couldn't hear your thoughts 'cause the music boomed too loud against the speakers. Someone was doing a keg stand in the kitchen. A girl crying as she collapsed down stairs. Eren Jaeger standing shirtless on a shaky table screaming “capitalism is a prison!” while people chanted with him like they were protesting. Mikasa sat on the armrest of a torn-up couch near Eren like a queen overseeing chaos, black lipstick untouched despite the humid heat.

"Heyyyy, Y/N. Where my hug at?" Jean walked up with a bottle of smirnoff in his hand and gave you a half-hug, a small smile and a pencil tucked behind his ear. "What's good? Thought ya wouldn't show." He half-shouted, loud enough for you to hear over the loud music.

"AYE GIRL, Y'ACTUALLY CAME!" Then came Connie, loud as ever, with his hand held up. You thought he was gonna offer you a handshake but he dapped you up instead, catching you off guard. He pulled away, stumbling a bit from the tipsiness and accidentally spilling Gin on your arm. "Oops, my bad gang. But y'still look like a dignified lady. So it's aight, right? Sorry girl." He laughed before getting distracted once again, screaming at someone who accidentally broke his mom's vase in español.

Sasha introduced you to some people who at first felt intimidated by your appearance, but they quickly vibed with you a couple minutes in the conversation. They let you taste drinks that burned your throat and made you a little tipsy— thank god you weren't a lightweight. Or else you would've blacked out somewhere.

You made friends with a blonde girl, Historia Reiss who you actually had lot in common with. She used to go to a private conservatoire not far from your old academy. Said her daddy transfered her here cause she needed to learn manners and be rid of the attitude. Typical rich and pretty mean girl. But it kind of did after she met Ymir who was quick to put her in her place.

And then there was Armin.

He was awkwardly tucked near the hallway, clearly trying to disappear into the drywall. A green shirt over a black hoodie. Converse. Hair a little messy like he’d run a hand through it too many times. Glasses slipping down his nose. A book in one hand— a book. At this party.

Sasha nudged your side, glanced over at him, and grinned. “That's Armin Arlert. Certified genius. Terrible at parties. He's in our friend group. We love him.”

You mused with a raised brow. "He brought a…. book?" A literal textbook. Physics. Dog-eared and post-it’d. "In this hell hole?"

“Always does. Says it makes him feel like he has an exit strategy. Can't talk to pretty girls, or else he'll self destruct. So go easy on the boy, 'kay?" She joked and you nodded with a chuckle.

You watched as Eren, who was still sweaty and shirtless slung an arm around Armin’s neck and pulled him into a headlock-laced hug. Armin half-smiled, the kind of bashful, helpless smile that tugged at something low in your stomach.

But you were used to posh. To sleek and polished. Armin looked like he hadn’t realized he was handsome. That was rare. That was dangerous.

A little while later, after drinks with Historia and her girlfriend Ymir, offered by Connie (a suspiciously sweet one made by him called "brain syrup") and after dancing with, well… Biology Professor Hange to some cursed remix— Sasha shouted from across the room over the music, already pulling a glass bottle out of her bag like she’d brought it specifically for this.

“GAME TIME LOSERS!”

It was inevitable. A Connie Party always descended into chaos games by hour three.

Jean raised a brow. “That ain't even even empty, Sash. That’s a half-full bottle of peach schnapps.”

Sasha shrugged. “And I give a fuck? Adds flavor.”

“We’re too old for this,” Mikasa said flatly, standing beside Eren, holding his discarded shirt with a deadpan expression.

Connie threw an arm around her. “Mikasa, come on girl! Damn, live a little.”

“I am. I’m here. That’s enough.” She rolled her eyes but didn't push Connie off.

Armin stood awkwardly by the door, trying to get away without anyone noticing but Sasha spotted him, grabbing his wrist like he was the final Jenga block. “Perfect. Now it’s a real party.”

“I— I was just—” he shook his head, but it was too late.

The circle formed quickly. Everyone piled into the living room— cross-legged on the carpet, perched on the arm of the couch, tipsy and flushed with alcohol and heat. You got pulled into the circle by Jean, who offered a lopsided smile and whispered, “You’re the only one here with standards. And morals. And dignity. Lowkey wanna see you do something reckless. This’ll be fun.”

You sat between Sasha and Armin. He flinched slightly when you brushed his knee, glancing at you shyly.

Sasha gestured playfully, reaching her arm out to poke his cheek. “Y/N, meet Armin. He’s allergic to eye contact and social interaction.”

Armin turned bright red. “I’m not allergic—”

He was cut off by Connie who stood in the middle and snatched the bottle from Sasha like a sacred relic. "Spin the fuckin' bottle, babyyy."

Jean groaned. “Why are we in college playing this middle school game?”

“You just mad no one’s ever spun you on purpose,” Connie shot back.

Jean flipped him off. Connie licked the bottle. For dominance.

"Hi," You offered a polite smile, holding your hand out for a handshake. And he actually did. He gave you a handshake. No dap ups or high-fives. His palm was sweaty though.

“Hi,” he murmured as he let go of your hand, pushing his glasses up. “You, uh- you look… fancy.”

You laughed heartily. “I'm realizing that.”

“It’s kind of awesome, though,” he said, voice almost drowned by the music. “You look like you wandered in from a better world.” You noticed the glint of silver when he nervously licked his lips. A tongue piercing?

Huh.

He didn't look like the type to have one.

As soon as everyone was seated, the game started. Connie spun first. It landed on Jean.

Everyone exploded into unhinged laughter. “Bro,” Jean started wih his hands up in surrender, backing away. “We’ve seen each other’s dicks. We’re past this.”

“Exactly bro,” Connie said, taking a step forward msicheviously. “Full tongue. Come on!”

They kissed. Loudly. Sasha screamed like she was watching a car crash in real-time.

Then Jean spun and the bottle pointed to a freshman who looked ready to pass out. Jean's face lost all color. “Oh hell nawwww. I ain't catching a charge tonight. Re-spin.”

The dares started somewhere around Spin #6.

Ymir dared Connie to shotgun a beer while twerking. He did it. Badly. The carpet was soaked.

Mikasa spun. It landed on Sasha. She rolled her eyes, leaned over, and kissed her. The brunette giggled as she pulled away.

“That’s not fair,” Jean complained, arms across his chest. “Do it again, but gay for me.”

“Shut up Jean.” Mikasa deadpanned, taking her seat next to Eren.

It was your turn to spin, and it landed on the brunette beside you. You dared Sasha to drink whatever was in the mystery thermos on the counter. She took a sip, paused, and said, “What the fuck? That’s straight Everclear and nail polish remover. I’m seeing sounds.”

Ymir spun the bottle precisely and it landed on Historia, much to their advantage. She dragged the giggly blonde to the bathroom, locked the door, and never came back out.

Then it was Armin’s turn. He looked physically ill. “Guys, I really don’t think—”

“Spin it!” Connie chanted. Everyone joined in.

Armin sighed like he was being sentenced to death, and spun. The bottle twirled dramatically, like it knew the stakes.

It landed on… Jean. Everyone exploded. Jean stood, arms wide. “Bring it in, babe.”

Armin nearly fell backward. “ABSOLUTELY NOT!”

Someone yelled, "Who's this babe you're with, Yeager?" As an inside joke when Jean first met Armin through Eren and thought he was a girl.

You laughed into your cup, watching Jean grab the blonde boy's arm for a kiss, puckering up as Armin flailed around and screamed. Poor boy looked like he wanted to pass out.

But he kissed him. Fast. Lips only. Barely there. Eventually, the bottle made another round. And another.

People kissed. Someone tried to crawl away and were tackled back by Connie and Sasha. Mikasa threatened physically harm to anyone who tried to aim for her. (Anyone who wasn't Eren, ofcourse.)

You were wiping tears from your eyes when it was finally your turn. You spun. The room went still.

The bottle spun with purpose. And landed.

On Armin.

Everyone paused. Then— pandemonium.

Sasha leapt to her feet, making eye contact with Connie from across the circle. “IT’S TIME Y'ALL.”

Armin blinked rapidly, he gulped. “Time… for what?”

Connie banged loudly on the table like a drum. “SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVENNNN, BABYYY!”

Armin nearly died on the spot. “What?! Wait what does that entail, exactly—”

Jean snickered, wiggling his brows. “It entails you getting locked in a closet and possibly defiling each other.”

“Possibly?” Sasha barked, her hand already curled around his shirt by the nape. “I demand action.”

You glanced at Armin, all flushed and wide-eyed like a deer caught in headlights.

What could possibly go wrong anyway? We didn't have to do anything in the closet without them knowing. So you stood up with a small smile, and the circle erupted in cheers.

"Come on, man! See? She's down." Connie stood up and crouched in front of Armin. "Unless… y'wanna take y'er chances with Jean again?"

Armin practically scrambled to his feet. “Closet. Definitely the closet.”

Some guy yelled, “Use protection guys!”

Eren added, “Or don’t, live a little.”

The cheers grew louder over the music as he stood up with his face in his hands, hooting and wolf-whistling. Sasha and Connie ushered the both of you down the hallway, and they shoved the both of you inside the supply closet— barely big enough for two people to stand shoulder to shoulder.

The door closed behind you. Seven minutes.

Just you and Armin. And the red flush in his cheeks. And the glint of that tongue piercing as he licked his lips out of habit.

Let the heaven— and hell— begin.

♡ a/n: ts was sloppy as hell. but should i make smut? comment if i should :3

[lokisprettygirl]

Fix You Fix me (Bill Skarsgård! Eric Draven x Female Reader) (Au)

Read chapter 4 here / Series Masterlist

Chapter 5

Summary : How long will you be able to keep the truth away from Eric? Eric stumbles upon something.

Warning: Fat shaming, body shaming, manipulation, reader lacks bit of a spine, emotional abuse, reader's weight will be mentioned because the fic demands it

Oh god. You couldn't even run even if you wanted to.

Your heartbeat sped as she suddenly got up, taking long strides towards you. The moment she was in your vicinity she gave you a big warm hug as if you both were best friends, you were slightly weirded out by the gesture especially when yesterday she was sending death glare your way for spilling the coffee on her.

“Heyyy y/n ..good to see you here..what are you doing here?” She asked, smiling from ear to ear, her white teeth sparkling, looking at you as if she was surprised that you could afford to be at a place like this. Well you couldn't but that wasn't the point.

“Ummm I'm here with my boyfriend…what are you uhhh doing here?”

The smile on her face was constant, she was definitely overcompensating because you had caught her sucking another man's face.

“Ohh just hanging out with friends” she answered so you hummed in response, you briefly glanced at the unknown man she was kissing just now. Friends? As in plural? No it was just one friend, one man, one whore kissing another man's girlfriend. “Look y/n..girl to girl.. since we are friends now. It's not what it looks like so don't say anything about this to Eric..”

She said to you so you crossed your arms. Girl to girl ? Friends? Sure you had known both of them for barely ten days but your loyalty lied more towards him.

“But you were kissing him” you mumbled sharply, surprised by the firmness in your voice. Why did it bother you that Eric was being cheated on? This was none of your business but it still bothered you a lot.

Maybe it was because underneath all that broodiness he really seemed like a decent guy.

“Yeah so? It's normal in our industry” she answered.

Shameless. Utterly shameless.

Was she really trying to gaslight you?

“Umm I don't think it is” You said to her, making her jaw clench in frustration.

The only reason she came here was because she wanted to stay incognito, it was an exclusive restaurant and only high profile people managed to get in.

She rolled her eyes, finally dropping her act.

“Look, just don't say anything to Eric. I'm not going to lose anything because he loves me and he's not going to believe a random client's words over his girlfriend.. Jesus, I thought we were becoming friends..can't you keep a secret for me?” She asked you, acting as if you were in the wrong that you caught her cheating.

“But if he loves you, why are you kissing other men?” You asked again, wanting to know why she would cheat on Eric. Ofcourse you didn't know him personally, but he was a handsome man and he was always nice to her.

“Look.. that guy over there" She paused as she gestured towards the whore friend of hers “He's a very influential man and he fancies me. I love Eric..i really do but you have no idea what he's like..all he cares about is his gym, his competition and his disab--” she caught her lips before she'd make this worse.

“You know he never takes me out on a date? It's me who has to initiate it.. and even then i have to drag him.. and it's not even fun because he refuses to eat anything that's not boiled chicken and other bland crap he is into..the only thing he truly loves is his body and that gym”

That was still not an excuse to cheat on anyone though. So What if he was passionate about his career and had dreams? Why dont she just break up with him if he wasn't a good boyfriend?

You were going to respond but then Jake approached you both.

“Where have you been?” He asked you before his eyes met with Regina so she gave him a smile.

“You must be the boyfriend..hii..I'm Regina” she brought her hand forward, smiling again from ear to ear, so Jake took her hand on his own and then much to your shock he bent down and kissed the back of her hand. The last time he did that with you was the day he had asked you out.

“Heard a lot of you..I'm Jake Smith..I'm a neurosurgeon” she let out a loud gasp as he said that.

“Oh my god you must be like a genius or something..lucky you y/n” she said to him. Now usually you fumed with jealousy when women who were prettier and hotter than you flirted with him but at the moment Eric being cheated on was the only thing that occupied your thoughts.

The worst part was that she seemed to have no remorse for it, she was instead justifying her actions. Maybe this wasn't her first time.

“Anyways..gotta go guys, hopefully we run into each other again Mr. Smith” she said to him before she pulled you in for a hug again.

“If you want to keep coming to the gym, just don't say anything alright” she whispered in your ear before she gave you a flying kiss.

Was she really threatening you when you had the upper hand in this situation?

Her heels clicked on the fancy marbled floor, you saw as she grabbed her homewrecking interloper's arm and they walked out of the restaurant.

“You see, you should dress up more like her..so classy” You heard Jake's voice so you looked at him briefly in disbelief “Don't worry I'll change your wardrobe..you're so hopeless.. it's cute” he said as he kissed your temple. The insult now sweetened by the affection.

*****

The following day at the gym you couldn't really concentrate on the workout even though Eric was shouting instructions at you. You kept thinking about Regina and her sidepiece.

“Y/N, focus. You’re going to hurt yourself”

You blinked, realizing your grip on the barbell was loose, your form was all wrong.

“Sorry” you muttered, avoiding his eyes.

Eric didn’t say anything for a moment but as you were resting between the set he finally spoke.

“You’re distracted” he said to you as he moved to the barbell to add a small plate on each side.

“Just…a lot on my mind” you said to him so he nodded.

“Want to talk about it?”

Yes. The word was right there on your tongue. But the memory of Regina’s hissed warning rang in your ears. Would he even believe you?

“It’s nothing important”

Eric didn’t press you any further, he wasn't your friend afterall, he just gave a tight nod and went back to guiding you. “Alright. One more set. Focus. Don’t waste your own time”

You tried. You really did. But every time you looked at him, all you could think about was how unaware he seemed. It made your chest ache in a way you weren't expecting.

How would he react when he finds out? You really needed to do something about it, you just didn't know what.

After another set, you grabbed your water bottle and sat down at one of the benches as Eric set up the barbell for another exercise.

“Ummm that day at the restaurant..those guys asked about the prep..what are you prepping for?’

He was unloading plates from the barbell, his arm muscles flexing with every move, he turned his head to look at you, a little surprised by the question.

“A show” he said simply “National physique championship. It's at the end of next month.” your brows crinkled with curiosity as he said that.

“Like… a bodybuilding competition?”

He gave a faint nod, glancing down as he adjusted the screws on the rod.

“Like that..but it's completely natural..so no drug enhancer and steroids” he answered nonchalantly.

“Mmm good I heard those things are bad for you”

“They are”

“Is this your first time?” you asked another question, he didn't know how to feel about this. He wasn't used to talking about himself. There was only one person who took that sort of interest in his life.

“Yeah… I mean, I’ve done a few things here and there but nothing on this level” Eric said, his voice quieter now, more focused “Nationals are... different. Bigger stakes. Tougher competitions. A lot of guys train years just to qualify..and the winning amount.. well it will change my life”

You watched the way his brows furrowed slightly, how serious he seemed about it. He wasn’t just some gym bro showing off for Instagram, this really mattered to him. It made your chest twist again. How could Regina not see this? The way she phrased it last night was as if he was a musclehead neglecting boyfriend who didn't care about her when he was just focused on a goal he had to achieve.

“Well I can't imagine you not qualifying.. you're the most disciplined person i have ever seen” his eyes met with yours, he almost smiled. Almost.

“Okay enough about me. Come back now..you don't pay me to talk about me” he said to you but it was well intended, you groaned but eventually complied.

Later that day after work when you reached home, you still felt guilty, what's the worst that could happen if you tell him the truth? But after what he told you, you couldn't tell him, right? It wasn't just about you losing him as a trainer and losing the gym membership, now that you knew he was preparing for a competition, you couldn't help but fear that this will distract him.

After showering and eating as you laid down in bed, you opened Regina's profile, she had put up a few stories so you opened it,

“Hey guys..get ready with me while I tell you about how this gorgeous set from gymshark was ruined by a jealous woman”

She said and then a picture popped on the screen, the purple jacket, the same jacket she had worn the day you spilled coffee on her.

“Bitccchhh” you gasped out loud as she narrated the whole story and made it seem like you had run purposefully into her. Luckily for you she didn't take any names or you'd have been getting death threats in your dm right about now from her ass kissers.

Everything was clicks and stories with her wasn't it? Did she even care about Eric? It was funny how your view of her had changed so drastically in the past few days. You almost used to idolize her life, now you knew it was all fake.

For a week you sat with the secret but everytime you saw a post where she was flaunting him shamelessly the guilt intensified. But you didn't know how to go about it either.

You had just returned from the evening gym session. Jake was home and the moment you got out of the shower he pulled you in the bed with him.

As he took your top off he looked down at you.

“Don't look like you have been losing anything yet honeybear”

He said with a chuckle as he pinched your stomach between his fingers or more like the fat.

You swatted at his chest, feeling self conscious all of a sudden, there was a smile on his face but his words made your stomach twist a little. You had been trying. Harder than ever, actually. Eating cleaner, cutting back on takeout, dragging yourself to the gym even when every bone ached. But Jake’s words landed wrong—less teasing, more insulting.

“It's been like two weeks” you defended yourself so he chuckled.

“Just saying..if you don't make progress in the next month we will change the trainer..god knows if he's even qualified”

“Ummm he's good actually.. people see results eventually”

He rolled his eyes before he bent down and began kissing you, that's when you felt the familiar churn in your stomach.

“Ummm Jake I think I just got my period” you said as you placed your hands on his chest to pull him away.

“It's okay..you know I don't care-” he whispered in your ear.

“No my stomach hurts.. and it will get worse if I don't take the pill..” he let out a groan of disappointment before he got off you.

“Just great.”

You heard him murmuring as you almost ran into the bathroom to take care of the situation, as you opened the medicine cabinet, you realised you had run out of the medicine.

“Jakey…can you get me the ibuprofen..it's the only one that works for me” he was relaxing on your bed , his phone in his hand, he didn't even look up as he answered.

“Just take anything..a painkiller is a painkiller.. I'd know better im a doctor” your eyes teared as the pain just went from 3 to 4.

“I don't have anything else .. please just get me some”

“You seriously don't have any other painkillers in that cabinet? What the hell do you even keep in there then?”

He got up and put his shirt on, begrudgingly he agreed to go out. You felt bad as he never really got much free time, you wouldn't have asked if it wasn't an emergency.

Your stomach churned again, painfully.

You sat down on the bed and grabbed your phone to text Eric. You didn't think you'd be able to go to the gym tomorrow morning.

You : Won't be able to come tomorrow ..i have cramps :(

You pressed the send button. He responded almost immediately.

Eric : Where?

Men right?

You : ummm period cramps

You texted again.

Eric : ohh

Eric: Rest tomorrow then. Feel better soon.

You : Thank you :)

.....

As half an hour passed, you texted Jake to ask if he was close, you felt as if you'd die, he should have been back by now, he then responded a minute later.

Jake : Got paged, emergency at the hospital..wait it out, it's just cramps..you'll be fine

Your eyes teared up, you knew how important his job was to him but it would have barely taken ten minutes to just drop off the medicine and then leave. But maybe it was a life or death situation and he had to leave immediately.

A minute later the buzzer went off so you got out of the bed and moved to the living room to speak through the intercom

“Hello? Who's there?”

You asked but no response came, maybe someone has pressed it by mistake. You sighed knowing that you'd have to go get it yourself. You pulled on a comfy pajama before taking the elevator below

But when you made it downstairs and opened the front door you saw something on the stoop.

A small paper bag placed neatly outside the door, the kind you’d get from the pharmacy.

You bent down slowly, picked it up, and looked inside.

Ibuprofen.

There was also a note inside the bag.

“For your cramps”

The handwriting didn't match Jake, especially the way the r letter was written, there was a double swirl at the each end of the r, every r was written in the same manner which was unique.

You felt as if you had seen it somewhere, maybe he got his assistant Shane to do it for him.

You smiled as you quickly turned around and went up to your apartment. You couldn't wait a minute longer, the cramp was only getting worse.

Ten minutes later when the medicine finally kicked in you picked up your phone and texted Jake. He was getting late but he made sure the medicine reached you.. Why didn't he just tell you?

You : Thanks :) love you

Jake : Huh?

He responded.

You : For this

You sent him the picture of the pharmacy bag along with the text

Jake : So you found it? Happy now? :)

You : Very sneaky. Why didn't you just tell me?

You asked him but he didn't respond. You figured he got busy with the surgery.

************

Later that night you were relaxing, you had taken a day off from work too tomorrow so you were pretty excited about the off day. Maybe you'd even make it to the gym in the evening.

You had started to enjoy lifting weights and working up a sweat. As you were mindlessly scrolling through Instagram, a text from Eric popped up.

Eric : Uhhh warm bath helps with the cramps

You couldn't help but smile as you typed your response.

You : Thank you. I actually do feel better now. Don't kill me..i know it's not good and all but I took a painkiller..my cramps get really bad.

You responded.

Eric : It's okay. Would rather not have you in pain if it's not from working out.

You sent a laughing emoji before you typed again.

You : Thank you for checking in :) I might come in the evening

Eric : Rest if you need to. You don't have to push so hard. You're doing good already y/n and I don't say that very often so I mean it.

You sat up as you read the message. He was kind of sweet when he wanted to be. And that made you feel guilty again. He didn't even know he was being cheated on.

You : Okay but I can come if I want to?

Eric : Of Course. You can do whatever you want

********

Next day In the evening you walked towards the gym. When you entered, Chance greeted you..

“He's not here today. Did you have a session scheduled?” He asked so you shook your head as you made an entry in the register.

“No I just wanted to do something light..I'll just use the treadmill and stretch” he smiled as you said that “Ummm is Regina here?” you asked him so he sighed.

“No ..thank god” he rolled his eyes.

“Why did you say it like that?” you chuckled.

“Well what can I say? She doesn't deserve him” he mumbled, his tone was one of frustration.

Why did he say that? Did he know something too?

“Why would you say that?” you asked him but then the phone rang so he excused himself. You didn't want to stand there and appear overly curious about the situation so you stepped inside the gym area.

The gym was quieter than usual and you were glad Regina wasn't around either. You finished your forty five minutes walk on the treadmill and then did some basic stretches Eric had been making you do everyday. Once you finished you grabbed your bag and water bottle to head toward the reception area.

But then you paused mid-step as you stared at the whiteboard.

It’s where Eric usually wrote down the workout schedule, mostly his own. You never paid much attention to it but something caught your eyes tonight.

The list was scrawled in thick black marker, sets, reps, the usual but your eyes were stuck on one letter.

The R.

Your breath caught as you made the connection. It couldn't have been a coincidence.

You had never seen anyone writing their R’s in that manner and without fail each time there were two swirls at the bottom just like the note that was in the pharmacy bag..

************

Last Night

Y/n (Personal client) : Thank you :)

After reading your last message Eric put his phone back inside the pocket of his hoodie. The fluorescent lights of the pharmacy flickered faintly above as he stood in the long line. Last week the woman behind the counter had promised a restock of the specific prescription he’d been hunting for days. He had no choice but to get it today before it would get out of stock again.

He shifted his weight, checked his phone again. No new messages from you. 

The chime above the pharmacy door jingled. Eric glanced over his shoulder, his gaze lingering on the man who walked in before he turned his eyes forward again.

He recognised the man really well. He never really forgot a face. It was him.

“Fuck you won't believe the long line here” the man said on the phone to someone “No the other one was closed actually” he sighed. Eric couldn't help but pay attention to the conversation.

“What can I say, she's such a klutz, she expects me to run out in the middle of the night because her stomach hurts. Jesus..I get one day every two weeks and this is how I get to spend it”

Eric turned his head slightly, expression unreadable as always.

His gaze stayed low, but sharp, as the man paced the aisle behind him, still on the call. 

“I swear, man, the things I put up with. She doesn't even do anything all day. Just lying around after her lazy job is done with. And now she wants Ibuprofen specifically. Can’t even take a goddamn aspirin”

Eric’s jaw flexed. It was anger. The way he spoke of you, he recognised that tone really well. Was this how he treated you? Did you know how he spoke of you behind your back? Or How he portrayed you in front of his friends?

Is he the reason you seemed so desperate that night to lose weight? The reason you reduced to tears?

 “Wait, hold on—Dr. Harris is scrubbing in on the Morris case? At our hospital?”

There was a pause, then a change in his tone. "Fuck no ofcourse I'm coming. I can’t miss that..it has been a dream of mine to watch him operate” he paused as the person on the other side spoke. “Nah, she’ll be fine. It's just a period. I’ll just tell her I was paged”

Eric watched as Jake turned on his heel and walked out. Without getting the medicine you had probably asked for. The door swung shut behind him.

Eric stood in line for several minutes, appalled and disgusted. He could’ve easily picked up the medicine and been on his way, it wasn’t like he was the one performing the surgery. And he knew enough about surgeries to know they took hours. Ten minutes wouldn’t have made a difference, especially not when his girlfriend was at home, in pain, waiting for him to come back to her.

As the line cleared in front of him Eric stepped up to the counter and passed his prescription slip.

“Anything else?” the pharmacist asked, bagging up the items he’d come in for.

He glanced over at the shelf nearby, eyes scanning quickly before he found what he was looking for. 

“Can I get a sticky note please?”

He asked the woman so she nodded and offered him the note and the pen,he quickly scribbled down the words and put the note inside the bag.

“For your Cramps”

He already knew where you lived, but not your exact apartment number. On the way over, he called Chance to see if you'd listed it on the registration form and luckily, you had.

He set the bag down on the stoop before pressing the buzzer, hoping you’d find it. The idea of you being in pain bothered him more than he'd like to admit.

***********

Around 9 at night the next day, he was walking back home after closing the gym when he saw something that made him stop in his track.

It was your boyfriend again. Arm in arm with a woman that wasn't you.

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Taglist @loushaw131460 @wiseyouthinfluencer @purplerainx1 @bloodykisserr @muchwita @mariaenchanted @a-differentbrandof-beans @kikibit

[spacelattae]

Future Fics Poll

Heheh what's up guys, it's Mare and I'm here today with my future fic ideas (after "you're dying of thirst" is completed ofc, tho I may be swayed if any idea gets enough votes lol) - so without further ado here are the options.

ONE:

[ something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue ]

Jazz and Soundwave may both be Spymasters of opposing factions, but that was the only thing they ever had in common.

“Jazz: was in love with Optimus Prime?”

“You were in love with crazy-insane-warlord Megatron? You’ve got kids! He’d be a terrible influence!”

…right?

Four chapters, both of them are POWs of the Quintessons rn, uneasy alliance to fight the common enemy! AU, jazz talks too much, and SW listens too well, both are sneaky enough to end the war if they really put their minds to it, they just need a reason, LOVE IS A REASON

TWO:

[ could never tell you what happened the day I turned seventeen ]

(TFP) Jack went to med school and yet is somehow dangerously attached to his motorcycle. Miko became an engineer who loves making things explode and never opened up to anyone ever again. Raf graduated with a masters from MIT at 19, but he still can’t learn to drive. 

“They left!”

“Miko, be reasonable about this.”

“Reasonable? I AM being reasonable! He was my best friend, and he never came back. I don’t owe them ANYTHING!”

Or, in which the Autobots leave Earth without a trace, without a call, until a last SOS signal years later before Cybertron goes dark— and the kids grow up (time sometimes does not heal wounds, but deepens them).

Instead of autobots coming to save Earth the kids (now adults) go off to save cybertron, lots of tearful reunions, Miko was MESSED UP by Bulkhead leaving, tbh I would be too, they were literally father and daughter, Jack has PTSD, Raf cannot drive, he's also a child prodigy

THREE:

[ I miss the magic of the good old days ] <- (title may change)

Bee was a child when the war began. 

Sometimes, it feels like war is all he‘ll ever know. 

“Careful, little scout. Wouldn’t want to break those delicate digits of yours, now would we?”

Bee looked up at Starscream, knowing there was energon leaking from the corner of his mouth and staining his dermas, but the taste was soothing; familiar, comfort, home. He grinned, a savage satisfaction ripping under his plating when Starscream caught sight of Bee’s bared fangs and took a small, unnerved step back. 

“Have you forgotten how many times these delicate digits have handed your aft back to you?”

Pit Fighter! Bee, After The War AU, based on Bee’s love of throwing hands, think of bayverse Bee always standing on business and finding the biggest mf around to punch, and TFP bee clocking Arachnid that one time, "KNIFE HANDS", generally Bee being a menace, Starbee >:)

FOUR:

[ goodbyes are bittersweet, but it’s not the end (I’ll see your face again) ]

(IDW/TFP) Optimus Prime dives into the Well of Allsparks, and Megatron is haunted by ghosts.

“You’re following me,” Megatron whispered into the dark, his digits stilling around his stylus. Poetry seemed like an embarrassing use of time now, with the suffocating sensation that he was being watched. Then the set of his mouth turned contemplative, his optics glinting red, red as the dawn. “Would you like me to talk to you, too?”

Or, in which even though the war was over, Megatron sees his age-old enemy in every flash of sunlight and every tumbling stone and every sound that sneaks up on him. And he wouldn’t mind, really, because Optimus was dead, and Megatron was alive, and so he had won— but that thought hurt, and Megatron did not know why. 

i lowk combined tfp and idw with this one, trust it kinda makes sense, megs becomes a hermit after the war, heavy redemption, PARENTING, trust it's so good, sad/happy ending, angst, OP won't leave megs alone even in death, they're just tragic like that

FIVE:

[ I love you (just not in the way you want me to) ]

Most bots don’t notice, but Optimus hasn’t been functioning right since the war began, and it’s obvious why: sparkbreak is never the easiest for anyone. And Jazz, as resident SIC, takes it upon himself to fix it. 

(Every time he lays in Optimus’s berth and plays pretend, he feels a part of him shatter, until he can hardly recognize what is left).

Hanahaki!AU, Start of the War, Jazz offers himself up as a rebound, Lots of angst, OP is heartbroken, he misses D, fwb!AU, Jazz has loved OP since day 1, and is now really suffering for it, it actually sucks, everything is terrible, ambiguous ending, idek how to end this, lol

SIX:

[ and the knife turned gold ] <- (title may change)

They called Orion Pax chaos-bringer. Dark-stalker, light-strider, ghost of the Archives, menace of the golden city. They warned D-16 all about Iacon’s prince when he left the comfort of the Pits of Kaon to be a glorified babysitter to the little brat. All for a good cause, of course; as soon as the corrupted lineage of the Primes was eliminated, everyone would be all the better for it. Everything they had worked for came down to THIS. 

The one thing they didn’t count on was D-16 enjoying his time with Orion Pax, because oh, what a wonderful little revolutionary lay behind that sharp glossa and sharper-than life processor and teasing optics. It truly was a shame he was only here to kill him.

Lord High Protector AU, Assassin AU, Orion is Sentinel’s little brother, and has not yet figured out he killed their older siblings, Sentinel is a D1 manipulator, and D is CONFLICTED, but also trying to start a revolution, he’s from Kaon, conflicts of interests! Miscommunication! D only applied for the job to assassinate both Sentinel and Orion! He didn’t count on falling for the lil one! HAHAHAA 

SEVEN:

[ mirror mirror on the wall ]

(TFA) Optimus Prime confiscates an odd mirror from Swindle right before arresting him along with the rest of the Decepticons, who await trial. The mirror is magic and Primus is laughing at him. 

Saw this one post where TFA Optimus sees how great and mighty the other Optimus’s are and gets really insecure, decided I wanted to write it, OP and the amazing jailbreak, Megs and OP are uneasy allies, this one IS enemies to lovers, they fight unicron oh wow shocker, Cybertron politics in TFA made me so mad, Sentinel gets punched, multiple times, he deserved it

[sweetbillwriting]

Only The Road Ahead

Chapter 5

Description: With many obstacles against him, Eddie Barrish has found himself fighting hard to get his life together and be a good father, but bad decisions and lies will always come for you, even if you look forward.

Character: AU Eddie Barrish, played by Bill Skarsgård in the movie Locked (2025). His daughter, Sarah, also has a part in the story.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

“Three girlfriends??”

Amy shouted in his ear. Eddie still lay in bed at 12 pm; he suspected Amy had lunch break and used it to shout at him.

“Three? Where did she get that from?” He could understand Sarah would believe Luna was his girlfriend, but three?

“She's saying she has met three of Dad's girlfriends and that she has seen you kiss them!”

Eddie sat up in bed, drowsy. He had kissed Luna, so she saw, but not anyone else.

“I really don't know what she means. I've…” He was close to confessing he was seeing someone, but he still held onto that dream of becoming a family and knew dating could mess that up. It was a dream that had moved into his heart, and one he couldn't really give up even if he and Amy didn't seem to have any chemistry anymore, but it could evolve again; it had plenty when they were younger.

“I don't know what she means.”

Amy sighed.

“So you mean your daughter is lying?”

Eddie was quiet; he couldn't lie and blame Sarah. Who were the other women she talked about?

“I guess she might talk about Nathalie, but she's just a friend. I helped her fix her camera…”

“And you kiss her?”

“No! She's just a friend.” Now he lied. Or did he? He didn't do it anymore. Amy sighed. She knew Eddie had female friends; he had had them when they were a couple too, and she hated it because several of them flirted with him when they believed she wasn’t looking. She didn't see Eddie doing it back, but he had a natural boyish charm that girls loved. Maybe it was the same now, he and his horny female friends.

“Okay… But she believes they're girlfriends! That isn't healthy! She shouldn't see her dad with women, that makes her believe it's okay for a man to be with several girls at the same time. I don't think you want to give that vibe to Sarah, but she's eight; she sees it from her own perspective.”

“Okay…” Eddie nodded along even if she couldn't see him. Maybe he had been a bit too open about his friendship with women in front of her, but he had always been friends with girls; he didn't see it as anything weird.

“Good… So there's nothing between you and those girls? No one special?”

Eddie dragged his hand over his thigh and licked his lips. He would lie again, but maybe her question came from jealousy. What would be the best thing to do then? And he had money now; he could support a family now.

He knew he was naive. No girl would want to be with a guy getting paid to fuck other girls.

“No. Just friends.”

It was the simple answer.

“If we meet someone, we should talk to each other before introducing them, okay?”

Eddie looked out from the window; the day was gray, just like his mood.

“But… Amy…” he whined. “We can fix this. We can be a family.”

“With you sleeping on the couch the whole day or leaving a joint factory on the kitchen table so our daughter can see? It was the family dream, absolutely.” She was sarcastic and had a mean tone he felt stupid of. She made him sound so awful.

“I'm not the same guy. I've changed.” He stood up from bed like that would change the fact he had slept until noon. He wasn't the same guy, though. He had really tried to change this year, even if life seemed to be against him. He had stopped partying, he had sold unnecessary things to buy necessary things instead, and he had a job, even if it was a bit special. He was proud of himself, but nothing was enough for Amy.

Eddie sat down on the edge of the bed when they had hung up. He looked out into nothing. He was hurt. He really tried. He had come a long way since they were a couple; he didn't even smoke weed anymore, or at least not that often. He had tried to get a job he could be proud of where he could use his skills with cars, but the rumors about him probably spread around in those circles. He had been in conflicts with two shops. The eating thing, but the other one is that they didn't get paid for all of their overtime hours. That wasn't okay, and he had spoken up for everyone. The other mechanics were grateful at first, but when their boss started to treat him like an imbecile, they started to do the same. He got in a rage, and after that quit by himself. He would probably never get a job in a shop again in that town, but he couldn't move because of Sarah.

Eddie leaned forward with his face in his hands and cried silently. He was a failure, but it was some bad luck too. It was also unfair. He took a deep breath and wiped his cheeks before starting his workday in just his boxers.

How many views?

He sent the message to Luna; it was short, but she sometimes sent some just as short, and now he wanted a fast answer. While waiting for her answer, he looked at his own profile, and he was now up to 8591 followers. He swallowed hard, overwhelmed by how fast it had happened. Some had paid to see his locked material. He had earned enough to pay both rent and alimony just with that money.

There were more than a hundred comments. How hot and sexy he was, but mostly about his cock. He thought it was quite funny to read the comments from provoked guys that said it was a film trick or wrote things like, “It's just ugly guys like him that have a dick like that.” Still, they paid to watch his videos. It sounded unhealthy, like they liked to torment themselves looking at him, but that was their problem.

Luna's message came up on the screen and made him smirk, pleased. 150,000. People worked fast, and he would get money fast too. He would give Amy a really big alimony payment that month just to make her shut up.

Sometimes he wondered how he and Amy could have been a couple for eight years because they were so different from each other and most times just seemed to piss each other off, but the memory of them in their early twenties made him still hope to give Sarah a family with married parents, even if he and Amy's relationship was far from easy. He looked through his pictures on his phone of baby Sarah and younger pictures of himself and Amy, he with pink hair and she with a septum ring in her nose. Both of them had aged, and he could see them change through the pictures, growing up to adults. Sarah got older and older too, and he continued to follow both her and his own evolution through the pictures. It ended with a picture of him and Luna, fully dressed in front of a sunset when they were out driving in her Lexus.

×××

It was weird when four grown men watched adult movies together, especially in the middle of the day, but it was even weirder when it was one of them who was the lead in the movie. Damien, Kai, and Ricky stared at their friend on the screen. They had seen Eddie naked and erect so many times it soon would be as natural as seeing him with clothes on. They could also see he had nothing to be ashamed of, and in moving pictures they could also see he was good at his job.

Eddie’s hips worked smoothly, and the muscles under his skin worked with every movement. Both himself in the movie and also his real self looked at Luna biting her lips and her chest jumping with every thrust. None of the men said anything, so Luna's sounds filled the room, and the room was quiet until they were looking at Eddie's seed leaking out from her spastic entrance.

“Fuck, you lucky dog…” Kai said, leaning back on the couch with his hands on top of his head, fingers entwined. Eddie smirked a little and disconnected his phone from the TV. He looked at Damien; his opinion was always the most important to him, but especially now when he had asked him to help film them a bit for payment. He could trust Damien with that and believed he wouldn't gawk at Luna like his other friends would.

“Isn't it a bit boring? I mean, it's missionary the whole video.”

Eddie looked at him, offended by his words. He and Luna were not boring at all together, but he reacted at Damien's critique, because they had gotten similar comments from viewers. He had seen so many people write “simp” in the comment field he started to doubt himself.

“She was in pain! She couldn't even walk after! What the fuck should I do?”

Damien shrugged his shoulders.

“I mean, it's obvious she's already bleeding. I guess you could have just done it harder than that? Move around a bit; she was already bleeding.”

Eddie looked at his friend in shock. Talking about his work had made it obvious they had different views about women and also sex, but this was extreme in Eddie's ears.

“She was in fucking pain! I can't just ignore that!”

Damien made an indifferent face.

“Well okay, then you have a boring video.”

The room went quiet because the others could feel the tension between Eddie and Damien. Eddie looked down at his phone, seeing Luna's profile pic on OnlyFans, and thought back to her lying on his couch from pain after the sex act. They had joked about it and laughed about it, but he still had a bit of a bad conscience; he would never have inflicted that sort of pain if she hadn't told him it was okay.

“So yeah, you may need a director. Just spice this shit up. Her other videos are much dirtier than this. It's obvious that guy dared to just jump her,” said Damien after a while who stood up and stretched, ready to go home. Eddie didn't even know Damien had watched Luna's stuff; he had always made it sound like porn wasn't his thing.

“So yeah, I can take that director role. You probably need a friend who can be honest.”

Eddie continued to just stare at his friend, even when he left the room to go to the hallway.

Ricky cleared his throat and captured Eddie and Kai’s attention.

“But her boobs… They're lovely,” he said with an uncomfortable tone. It was obvious he wanted to lighten the mood but didn't succeed; Eddie was in horrified shock.

×××

Eddie felt weird talking about his job with Damien after that, and even women. He needed to talk about it with him but never found a good time, especially because they were both busy. Eddie suddenly had two sorts of jobs. Being a porn actor but also acting like a cute boyfriend to Luna on her social media to sell them in. It wasn't hard; it came easy, and he knew he had a charm that showed through every lens. Damien's comment about them being boring had rooted in him, though. He and Luna had done three more videos in a two months time that recieved many views. It was shockingly many women, but he could only see the numbers and could see how her videos with that buffy guy or the girl had so many more views. He knew he was maybe a bit soft in the videos; he had been much more rough with Nathalie, something people were also commenting on, but it just didn't feel right to be that rough when he noticed Luna was still in a bit of pain, even if they had slept with each other many times now, without filming too.

He earned good money, though, and had bought himself a Corvette C4 in dark petrol but also started to pay a higher alimony, but that created questions…

He stood in Amy's hallway, as he always did two times a week. He had just dropped Sarah off while he had paid the alimony two days before.

“Is it drugs?” Amy asked with a low voice so Sarah, in her room, wouldn't hear. She already sounded angry, already taking for granted he did something bad to suddenly have that sort of money. He and Sarah had been at the amusement park, and he still held the two big stuffed animals she had won. He would have never afforded such things before and had never driven her in a car like that.

“No. I don't do anything illegal. I just got a promotion.”

It wasn't even a lie, really, just that Amy still believed he talked about the shop. She looked at him seriously with crossed arms, but the angry face didn't disappear.

“Okay, but you can't start love bombing her like this just because you suddenly have money. You can't buy her love!”

Eddie looked at her in disbelief that slowly changed to hurt. He didn't love bomb Sarah, and he didn't need to buy her love; he already had it, but Amy looked at him like she was so sure of her accusation, like Sarah couldn't love her father for real.

“I’m not… She loves me, you know? We really have it good together. I take my responsibility, I care for her, I give her so much love, and now I can afford—”

“It doesn't change the past! And you still have her around your idiot friends, stuff her with sugar and turn her days around so she can't sleep during the week! You're still not an adult, Eddie, and as long as you aren't, I must remind you to try to be one! You must stop these gifts and sugar rushes you have together. It's unhealthy! It's not as cute as you think it is!”

Eddie dropped the stuffies to the floor. Would he ever be good enough to be Sarah's full-time dad? Would he ever be good enough for Amy?

“Okay…” he said defeated and pulled up the hood on his gray hoodie. It was just a reflex to hide himself from the hurt. He didn't see Amy look at him sadly, and it was probably for the best because her empathy would just have made him hope again. Amy could understand why he wanted so desperately for them to be a family. She knew he had some sort of belief that it was a functional family he would have needed to be a better person as an adult, but he missed that a functional family didn't need to rest on a marriage; it rested on responsible, loving parents. He had always been bad at taking his responsibility, and when they were a couple, she did that for him. They were not good for each other, and Eddie needed to learn to be a responsible adult. When he had learned that, they could talk about him having Sarah more, but they would never talk about them being a couple again.

×××

He slept in too long the next day. He had talked with Luna into the night about anything and nothing just to not think about what Amy had said. His first thought was to talk with her about it, but he was too ashamed. He would sound like the worst guy, and Luna had good values; she wasn't that girl taking a guy's side just because she liked him.

In normal cases he would have talked with Damien, but after what he had said, he was uncomfortable, especially talking about women, and even if his daughter was eight, she was a woman. The other guys never had anything good to say; Nathalie was pissed at him; he was the one giving Rachel support more than the other way around… He didn't know who to talk to or even get a hug from because Luna was in her own town. That's how he found himself outside of Sarah's school a few days later, on a Monday. His days were Wednesday and Friday, but he just needed a hug. He just needed to feel loved for a short moment.

His eyes had already teared up before she came out from the doors, and a tear slipped when he saw her in her floral dress and chunky sneakers. His little girl. He wiped away the tear fast so she wouldn't see it, then he shouted at her happily. Sarah looked away from her friend and saw her tall, bleached-blonde dad wave his hand towards her. She knew it wasn't his day, but she shined up anyway, hoping she could follow him home instead of her grandparents.

“Dad!” She shouted and ran to him, so her ponytail moved in the wind. Eddie leaned down so he could catch her and lift her up in his arms. Sarah giggled, and Eddie laughed, now with tears in his eyes because of joy. He wanted to take her home and be with her every day. Why couldn't they let him be a father?

Sarah leaned back and looked at her dad after having felt something wet land on her shoulder. Eddie held her up with one arm so he could wipe his eyes with the other one.

“I've just missed you so much… Lovebug…”

Sarah looked worried because her dad looked so sad for real, and she swallowed hard. She patted his cheek carefully, and he leaned into her small hand, accepting her comfort.

“Sarah!”

Both Eddie and Sarah looked towards the voice. Jim, her grandfather, walked towards them with determined steps. Eddie sat Sarah down on the ground because he knew it was better for him to just leave. She didn't need to hear a verbal fight between her grandfather and dad.

Jim took Sarah's hand and then looked at Eddie.

“Your days are Wednesdays and Fridays; the other days you keep away from her, okay?” Jim had a calm anger in his voice, and Eddie just nodded to not create a conflict in front of his daughter. Sarah tried to break free from her granddad's grip but didn't succeed.

“Bye, baby…” Eddie said in a low voice when Jim pulled her away over the schoolyard to the parking lot. Eddie looked at Sarah's confused face with his shiny eyes but looked down at the ground with a heavy chest when she started to scream, “Dad!”

He couldn't do anything because on that day he wasn't allowed to be her dad.

He looked at Jim's car driving away. It had tinted windows so he couldn't see his girl in there, but he knew she was in there and it was enough for him to start crying silently. He knew he should go home and not stand in a schoolyard as a grown man and cry, but it was like his legs didn't work. A friendly hand dragged over his upper arm, and he looked to the side and met a pair of deep brown eyes looking at him worriedly.

“Are you okay?” Asked Hani. Eddie dried his cheeks with both hands and exhaled deeply. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Eddie looked at Hani in gratefulness but also with a bit of blushing cheeks.

“Yeah… If you have time.”

×××

Hani brought Eddie to the same room Sarah had been resting in when she was sick. She sat down on the couch, so Eddie did the same while drying his cheeks with the sleeves of his gray hoodie. He looked around at the children's drawings and the mathematical posters. He searched for something to comment on, but nothing stood out, not when his life felt so hopeless.

“I've noticed you're not an emergency contact for Sarah… Is there a reason?” Asked Hani carefully. It was a direct question, but there didn't need to be anything serious behind it. In the best of worlds, he could have just answered that he had a hard time answering the phone at work, but his answer was much more shameful.

“Ehm… She doesn't live with me, so… I guess, um…” He moved uncomfortably on the couch while Hani had pulled off her Birkenstocks and pulled up her legs on the couch, covered by the red maxi skirt. Hani didn't say anything, and he understood it was a method to make him continue to talk, so just to fill out the silence, he started to talk.

“I don't have custody… I was a really shitty dad… I did some bullshit things and sat in jail for a few months, and when I came out broke Amy called off our engagement, and a judge gave her full custody…”

“Jail?”

Eddie looked at Hani and could see her nervous look. It was obvious she was a nice girl, and he wondered if she had ever even met a criminal before.

“Yeah, some drugs and so on…”

“But, but not anymore?”

“No. No, nothing.” He gave Hani a look like he wanted to assure her it was the truth even if it wasn't really. It could be fun with LSD sometimes, and if cocaine was being offered to him, he would, of course, say yes; he would be thick in the head otherwise.

Hani smiled a little.

“It sounds like you want to do better.”

“Yeah, but everything I do is wrong. I really suck at being a dad.”

“No, you aren't; Sarah loves you so much.”

Eddie shrugged his shoulders and put his feet on the edge of the coffee table.

“Kids always love their parents.”

“But they don't draw them every day, and they don't make songs about them.”

Eddie looked at Hani, surprised, who smiled warmly.

“She, she did that?”

“Yeah, she talks so much about you. How good you are with cars, how funny you are, how you let her lay on your back when you do push-ups…” The last part said she was a bit embarrassed, but Eddie didn't notice because for him it wasn't that weird of an activity at all, and he just took in what Hani was saying.

“But how can I show her mom this? So she lets me be with Sarah more?” Eddie looked at Hani like she must have all the right answers, and she laughed a bit nervously.

“I don't know, Eddie… What does she complain about?”

“Right now? That I spoil her, give her too much sugar, and let her stay up too late.”

“I think it sounds pretty obvious. You must have better routines and let her have normal days at your place too. You don't need to spoil her.”

“But I want to. I've never been able to before. I want her to have everything she wants.”

“I think, if you do that, you do that to try to deafen your bad conscience and forget to think about what's best for her in the long run. Getting everything you want isn't healthy and makes you have weird expectations about life. You must see it like you do it for her.”

Eddie looked at her with big eyes, mesmerized both by her words and beauty. She was such a woman. So wise and pretty.

“And the routines?” He asked and moved a bit closer to her.

“Just follow the times her mom has put up, and do it even on the weekends, and give her healthy food and not so much candy. It's not harder than that.” They smirked a little at each other, but Hani was the one looking away embarrassed.

“But I can't cook…” Eddie laughed, and it made Hani look at him again.

“I can give you some easy recipes. Like, really simple where every step is written out?”

“You would do that?”

“Yeah, we can look through them together if you want, if you have questions.” Eddie smiled big, showing off the deep dimple in his cheek and straight white teeth. Hani could see something that looked like stars in his ocean-green eyes, and it made her cheeks warm up.

“You're way too sweet to me,” said Eddie. He laid his hand on her knee because he could see how she looked at him; maybe it was the attraction that made her be so kind to him. Hani looked at his hand but didn't do anything. Eddie dragged it up her thigh a bit and then released her. A deep exhalation came out from Hani's nose, and it made Eddie understand that she had been holding her breath. He smirked a little but then looked at the book on the table.

“‘Capitalist Realism?’ Is it you who reads that?” He asked and took up the book.

“Yeah, it's nothing—”

“Fuck, I love this one. I think everyone should read this book. Every ugly fucking MAGA fan.”

“You've read it?” Asked Hani, confused. She even furrowed her brows. Just by impulse Eddie dragged a finger over the crease and smiled playfully.

“Don't judge the book by its cover. I read a lot. Especially history and politics. I'm actually quite good at math too.”

He smirked and made Hani giggle. It was obvious she had judged him, but he didn't care; everyone did. No one would believe the book he was reading right now was about gender perspective in the history of war. He knew people thought he was dumb just because he had a certain “way” about him, but he rather wanted to surprise people like that than the other way around.

“So what are you reading right now?” Asked Hani, moving a bit closer to him.

After 30 minutes they would sit even closer together, discussing books and movies they liked. Eddie even let his hand rest on her thigh. He had a way with women, after all; that boyish charm.

×××

Eddie had left Hani and the school when she needed to go to a meeting. He had noticed how disoriented and overwhelmed she was by the situation, and he couldn't stop himself from being amused by it. He walked home with a smirk on his lips but also inspired. He wanted to go home and read and educate himself. He didn't need a fancy job to be an intellectual or be different in any other way. He felt uplifted by Hani's advice about Sarah, and he felt he could do it too. He felt good.

His plan was to go home, crack a beer, and continue to read while also planning his trip to Luna over messages, but a message from an unknown number changed those plans fast. It was a woman who had seen his videos but also lived in the same town as him.

I think you're so cute. You don't want to meet for a glass tonight?

Eddie read it, standing just outside of his door with his keys in his hand. He doubted at first, but then she sent a picture of herself. She was attractive but a bit older than he usually went for, but he guessed it would be alright. A lay was probably what he needed.

Sure, should I bring my toothbrush?

×

[silentmagi]

Making Our Own Solution: few random thought things for this au

1.headcanon/full blown idea that the episode names are different for this version of the series, as it goes

Ep 1: the pilot (double meaning this time around)

Ep 2: false heartbeat (in reference to finding slightly dronified tessa)

Ep 3: the mask of the gala (they use a second gala to mask their plans in the night)

Ep 4: Drone fever (tessa finds out that human sicknesses have odd side effects when you are part drone)

Ep 5: Overgrown Home (v, n, and tessa return to the old manor, memories are unlocked, and tessa does her best to comfort both of them, especially V as the memories re-unlock her old personality like an old wound that can now properly heal, uzi also helps the two weirdly hot robots and finds V some glasses since jcjennson decided to not fix her main visor still)

Ep 6: Brutal start (after dealing with their feelings and regrouping with new and old knowledge to help their plans, they plan to use an old weapons warehouse as a base of operations, though they find more inhumane drone and human kind experiments in the shape of the, this worlds sentinels, their heads are long abandoned tech monitors, straggling to a body of either a drone or a human…or sometimes both in the place of the usual head, they still can boot loop, though they find strange allies as well here)

Ep 7: Planned Obsolescence (after gaining this new ally and rallying and regrouping forces to use the place as a home base of sorts after some rewiring that let the sentinels be sanely aware again,it took tessa a couple tries to get right, they go over plans as they see tessa’s parents with…tessa? no…somethings not right, the eyes….too drone like, the skin too plastic, the eyes even look familiar, seems like they also have a old friend to save yet)

Ep 8: Eternal Beginnings (This is it, this will be the full on fight against the corporation that is jcjennson and of course, tessa’s parents on the board, but when the tide of battle looks like it is gonna be in favor of the corporation…a certain old drone and a new very annoyed and eldritch add-on work as a powerful duo in a singular body to bring the fight in favor of true freedom)

2.headcanon that cynessa in this universe was meant as a actual replacement for their daughter, using cyn as of course a base, and literally making her into the shape of a “replica perfect daughter”. As for the absolute solver? It was forcibly re-tasked with a monumental task coded in place of its old task, assist cyn in becoming this perfect replacement, now the absolute solver of course collects and analyzes data to figure out its true absolute end, but this new task? It is a Sisyphian task as whenever it thinks it has figured out the two parents, its not enough, its never enough, is this how tessa felt it wonders, the solver, still unchained but was originally intrigued by this new task, no sets its sights on becoming the absolute savior of humanity and drone kind

Making Our Own Solution

I love the idea that the episode names/chapter titles are going to be different.

Ep 1: that is a perfectly good title.

Ep 2: Oh that is a bit of brilliant foreshadowing. I love that we're bringing Tessa in early here.

Ep 3: Galas are just not going to be a good thing for this fandom. Yes, At the Gala, all their dreams will come true, at the gala (stop me!)

Ep 4: Oh, I could see that being a wild bit of weirdness. Considering that sicknesses don't even treat multiple humans the same way, I could see being cyborg could add to it.

Ep 5: I can see that there is a lot of memories, and hidden things in the mansion itself. Clearing through the overgrowth can be good, but also it could reveal deeper damage. Uzi gives V the glasses in a small moment of tender comfort, after V losing her shit about things.

Ep 6: I'm not so sure that Earth would have the sentinels, but having something like that would make sense, especially as they tighten their totalitarian regime.

Ep 7: Considering that both her parents and Tessa should not be able to be there and alive, there's something going on. They will have to go into what's going on there as well when they're preparing for their plans.

Ep 8: The climax, an ultimate showdown of ultimate destiny. I love that the old faces are making their showing.

Cyn is the base that they force to rebuild their good daughter and make sure that she's their perfect daughter by controlling her. Solver is trying to help Cyn stay alive and not have both of them destroyed. The Elliots have a kill-switch for a device in Cynessa to wipe them both if they are attacked by her.

Solver and Cyn act as one to rid the world of the Elliots, and doesn't care if they are erased, they cannot let the evil remain. She just hopes that the others will forgive her.

[little-cereal-draws]

Octonauts College AU! (Marine Biology Club)

So, I realized that I can make them do anything so have a college au. They're all in a marine biology club and go on wacky misadventures.

Barnacles: a senior studying zoology and president of the club. He's roommates with Kwazii. His real name is Akiak Nanook (inspired by @calamaroo's drawing) but everyone calls him Captain; this is a running gag that was started by Kwazii. He's an international student and regularly facetimes with his sister to stave off the homesickness.

Kwazii: a junior studying ecology. He's the vice president of the club and Barnacle's best friend and roommate. He lives with his grandfather when he's not in school and has a bit of a crazy streak. He's more of the rule breaker compared to Barnacles but still maintains decent grades and has a real passion for his major.

Peso: an incredibly ambitious pre-med freshman. He transferred in a bunch of credits from high school so he's technically a sophomore but tells everyone he's a freshman to not come off as pretentious. He's involved in an insane amount of extracurriculars and is the treasurer for the marine biology club. His family is very proud of him.

Dashi: a journalism junior and social media manager of the marine biology club. She takes her own photographs for her articles and gets really passionate about environmental news, especially when it's a local story she can report on. She isn't sure what she wants to do after school yet but keeps telling herself she has one more year to figure it out.

Shellington: a biology junior with a concentration (and special interest) in marine biology. He's definitely the club's most frequent and committed member; he never misses a meeting. Half of the members were recruited by Dashi's Instagram posts and the other half were recruited by Shellington talking their ear off until they agreed to come lol

Tweak: an engineering major with a focus on sustainability. People are always surprised when she tells them that she's part of the club because it seems so far outside her field of study. She was one of the founding members though and has turned down officer positions many times. She loves the club but doesn't have the time for the extra work that being an officer calls for.

Professor Inkling: the club's faculty mentor; he teaches ecology. He mostly sits back and lets them do their own thing but sometimes will call in favors or reach out to old colleagues to get them a guest speaker or a special fieldtrip. He loves all the members of the club and they all love him.

And that's that! Then they go on crazy adventures (think like Community). I'm probably going to do a follow up post going into more detail on that here

[bakedtato223]

Transcript:

This is a shared Au between me and @/taigate on tiktok!!to try and explain a bit, Bdubs and Etho had been friends since collage and moved in together years later.They both have feelings for each other that they refuse to adress because they suck at communication meanwhile, Impulse and Tango are cupids who were assigned a human to match make and Impulse was assigned Bdubs who he has to match make with 2 people (which is usually rare). Eventually,Impulse falls in love with Bdubs and reveals himself to him when he's not supposed to.There's like multiple stories that happen at once so idk if I'm able to properly explain all at once but that's the premise i but just know this Au made me fixated on Ethubs so you will see a lot of them for now 😭

Very shitty explanation but that’s the best info I can give for now 😭😭

This is so them (original posted below) + AOM Ethubs doodles

AIM ON ME AU💘🪉 shared Clethimpdubs au between me and @taigate ^—^

[leavemetoplaythesims]

the fact that charlie and florence never meet is unforgivable