#the sad look on his face as he hugs Julia

[skuleighrose]

"Can you tie your hair up?"

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #7] Sex With An Ex

warnings: sad girl hours!! backstory!! wahoo!! reader gets a nickname (byeol (means star in korean)). enter stage left: KIM SEOKJIN. no smut but references back to things said mid-shag. first mention of jk’s lip ring flipping (i think (first of MANY)). very emotionally hurt reader :(

soundtrack:don’t know how to keep loving you - julia jacklin; 3:00 am - finding hope; blender - 5sos

wc: 6k

bd total wc: 540k (on-going)

minors dni | AO3 | series masterlist 

A frigid early morning breeze dances around Jeongguk's bare legs. The hairs stand on end, in protest of the fact he's elected to wait downstairs by the entrance of his apartment.

He knows you're in a taxi - had sent you his address, and had been sent a message back a few moments later saying 'omw', but he isn't sure if you remember which floor he's on, nor which apartment is his. It's almost as if he didn't put a decal sticker that resembles Iron Man's Arc Reactor on their doorbell.

Jimin is yet to notice it.

You had giggled, still tipsy, when you'd spotted it on the night that Jimin had taken you back to their place, but can barely remember it, now.

And so, Jeongguk waits for you in the cold, hands bunched into the pockets of his shorts, a white shirt hanging off his broad shoulders, which are slightly hunched over. He's trying to preserve heat. Wishes he was wearing socks. Will blame you if he gets sick.

Yet when your taxi rolls up - and he's squinting from the headlights, eyes a little puffy from his lack of sleep - he knows that you're not in the mood to be blamed for anything. There seems like there's a weight on your shoulders as you thank your driver, making sure the door is shut before turning to face Jeongguk.

Posture sloped, you don't carry yourself like you usually do. Normally spritely, you seem quite the opposite now.

Your lips are thin as you smile.

He reciprocates a similar countenance, his lip ring flipping up ever so gently as he does it. There's something sweet about it, and it always makes you feel a little warm, normally, but you can't bring yourself to be endeared by it right now.

He walks to meet you - just a few steps across the ground floor parking lot - and wraps his arms around your shoulders. Doesn't let the hug linger for too long. Isn't entirely certain it won't make you cry.

"You're missing your disco, Byeol," Jeongguk says tenderly as he looks down at you, taking note of the fact you're without your signature makeup. He's so close he can count your lashes, and not a single one has a trace of glitter. You ignore the connotations of how he replaces ball with byeol. You're not sure how deliberate it is.

A familiar heat tickles at your lash line. With a sigh, you shrug. Look down at Jeongguk's hands, which are picking loose hairs from your shirt.

They're so acquainted with you now that you notice a graze on his finger that wasn't there the last time you'd hung out. Wonder how he got it. Hope he's okay, and that it didn't hurt. It's just a scrape from an awkward bottle cap. Nothing to worry about.

When your eyes finally meet his, you're surprised by how brutal his stare is. Eyes dark, there's no stars in them. His sharp jaw seems particularly tense, nose pointed and dewy beneath the moonlight. Behind him, the lobby light cuts out.

He swallows, dropping his hands from your shirt as his body turns to set the motion detector off again.

"Can we go inside?" you ask, quiet as a mouse.

Jeongguk doesn't understand why you're being so timid with him. He's not a fucking cat. You aren't his prey.

He just nods, though. "Of course."

The shrill beep of his entryway door code being punched in makes you feel like heaving. Everything is a little too much - which is why, when Jeongguk presses the button for the elevator, you ask if you can take the stairs instead.

"Sure," he says, a little taken aback. He normally takes the stairs himself, but thought you wouldn't want to walk up twelve flights of stairs. "We're pretty high up."

"S'fine," you say as you head towards the staircase. It's dimly lit, motion sensor lights flickering alight as you approach them. "Need the walk."

He chooses not to engage in conversation. Your words feel coded, and he isn't sure he's able to decipher them. Doesn't wanna risk saying the wrong thing when you're in a mood that feels so unfamiliar to him.

He's seen grouchy. Seen you unhappy. This isn't like that.

This is something different entirely.

He doesn't speak until you're on the staircase that exits on his floor, but his tone is gentle. "This one."

You nod, as if you knew.

Truth is you didn't. In fact, you kind of wish he'd just let you walk up to the roof. It'd be impossible to see the stars this close to the heart of the city, but at least you could pretend that the planes were cosmic calamities; shooting stars to make new wishes upon.

The lead is taken by Jeongguk until you reach his apartment.

He tells you Jimin is asleep, but that his room is at the opposite end of the apartment, so you can talk in there. He takes your silence as agreement, and holds the door open for you.

Shoes off by the entrance, he rests his palm on the top of your back to guide you through the dark apartment. It's how you remember it, the only difference is that Jeongguk's wearing a shirt this time.

When you reach his bedroom door, he pauses.

"If you say one mean thing about my sculpture collection, I'm throwing you out the window," he whispers, which does admittedly make a laugh stammer in your chest.

Makes you curious, too.

Hadn't envisaged him as a fine art type of guy.

He'd look good in your cafe, you think, in the corner with the clay, dried grey specs on his honey skin. You'd give him the olive-coloured apron, if he ever visited, because you think it'd suit him. Would watch with a lazy grin from the counter as he got to work on his project. Would sit with him during his breaks and colour in his tattoos with posca pens. Would be nice, you think.

But those thoughts are washed away like heat in a summer rain when his door opens and you see what he really means.

You don't mean it to be, but the laugh you let out is so fucking obnoxious. Jeongguk's hands go to shush you, one on the back of your head, the other over your mouth - but he's giggling, too.

"I told you not to be mean!"

You can feel him grin against your hair, keeping close so that he can keep his voice down. He doubts Jimin will stir, but it's worth it to hear your happiness. Jeongguk loosens his grip on you, turning back to click his door shut, and lets you meander over to his collection of-

"These are action figures, Gguk."

"They're sculptures."

"Toys."

"Collectibles."

"Collectible toys."

He purses his lips as you turn around to look at him. His arms are folded, nose a little scrunched, desperately not wanting to admit defeat.

"Look, they're really fucking expensive!"

And then you're laughing again, at how bloody ridiculous he is.

It somehow comes as no surprise that Jeongguk would have comic book figurines in perspex boxes, neatly stacked like a museum exhibition in the corner of his bedroom - just like it makes perfect sense that there's a chess set next to a computer that looks like it's worth your monthly salary.

"Can I-?" You cut yourself off as you gesture around the room.

"Go for it," Jeongguk says as he takes a seat on his bed, letting you wonder freely, taking in all that he is. He thinks you need a distraction, and he's to provide that. Knows you'd do the same if roles were reversed. In fact, it gets him wondering what your bedroom is like. He'll consider the what-ifs later. Too busy watching you, now.

A reed diffuser sits atop a pile of unread books on his bedside table - ones he swears to Namjoon that he'll read, but never seems to get around to doing so. The scent is black cherry, but there's another on the far side of the room which is fresh cotton. Nothing is ever entirely straightforward with him, but it's kind of why you like his company.

"This one is good," you muse, tapping the spine of one of your favourites - Cho Nam-Joo's Kim Ji-Young, Born 1982. You've the same book on your shelf at home. There are a few you don't recognise, so make a note to ask him about those another time.

His bed is made, but it's just as ruffled as his dark hair, which sticks out a little on end. You meet his eyes as you scan the room, and find that there's a small smile on his lips. You reciprocate it, hoping it's enough to distract him from the fact you're not quite yourself.

"Wanna sit?" he asks, knocking his head to the space beside him.

You don't think you do. You don't want to really be close to another person, not physically.

Something about him makes it hard to refuse such an offer, though. You find yourself nodding, even when you don't mean to.

He shuffles a little further up his bed, falling down onto his back to stare at his ceiling again. His legs hang off the side of his bed, hands intertwined across his chest.

You follow suit. Legs up, knees bent, feet by your ass, you copy his hands as you stare at his ceiling, too. Above you, his origami birds flutter gently in the aircon breeze.

"You make them?"

"Mhmm."

"They're pretty."

"Pretty lame," he snorts, very much aware that it's not the coolest thing to have in your bedroom as a twenty-five year old man, almost forgetting his glorified doll collection.

His sheets are soft, but there's still a slight crinkle as he turns his head to look at you. Though you feel his gaze, you don't look back.

"No disco balls tonight?"

The question is expressed so tenderly that you can't help but swallow back the flounder in your diaphragm. Your head slowly shakes, but you're still looking up at the birds. Part of you hates that he associates you so damn closely with that fucking glitter. Part of you quite likes it, too. Makes you feel seen. Makes you feel vulnerable.

"Why not?" He asks.

"Just 'cause," you whisper, not intending on giving an answer of substance - but you're upset, and it's a topic of contention that has been eating away at you for so long now that you can't help yourself from biting a little bit. "Sometimes it's just not very mature."

Jeongguk snorts. "You're talking to the guy with a figurine collection."

And then you're smiling, because his self-awareness is not only refreshing but incredibly endearing. He doesn't take himself seriously, and it's why you like his company. One of the reasons, at least.

But then you're thinking about how nice it is to laugh with someone for the simplicity of feeling a shared happiness, and you can't help but let the truth slip out.

"I used to date a guy," your voice lingers on your words, before you sigh and continue. "And he was so cool, yanno? So smart, and mature-"

The emphasis on the word, and the fact you're repeating it, tells Jeongguk all he needs to know about exactly what's happened tonight. Not once have you ever cared for looking older than you are, content with having fun thanks to the freedom of your twenties. In the time that he's known you, the topic of maturity has only ever been mentioned when you berate each other for being stupid.

Your compulsion to seem mature now is telling. He knows where you've been. Who you've been with, even if he doesn't know exactly who he is.

"- and he was just... you know people who have shit figured out? He's like that. He's older. Wiser." You pause, but Jeongguk lets you keep talking. His eyes are on the ceiling now, too. "Anyways, glitter annoys him. Gets on his clothes and then apparently it's a bitch to get out but I'm so used to it that I never notice it-"

"It's not a bitch to get out."

"And like, he's just, mature, yanno?"

"Yeah, you said that."

"So," you shrug your shoulders into the mattress. "He doesn't like glitter."

There's silence as Jeongguk thinks about what the fuck he's supposed to say to that.

In his eyes, you are glitter. Called you Byeol earlier 'cause you remind him of fucking stars. Feels a bit stupid for it now, but he's hoping you misheard.

He has to bite on his cheeks to stop himself from saying some scathing remark. 'So he doesn't like you, then?' reverberates in his head. It's harsh, he knows, but he wants to say it because he wants you to realise how terrible it is to change yourself for someone like that. And for what? It obviously didn't go well if you've ended up here.

But you are here. And he knows he's right - things can't have gone well. You're probably already feeling like shit, and who is he to make you feel even worse?

He can't be putting you through the wringer like that, but he's perplexed at the idea of you being so invested in someone who is quite clearly unbelievably wrong for you.

He's been in your position before.

Knows that him being a prick will only cause more damage.

And so he's kind, instead.

"I think it suits you," he says. "The glitter, I mean. You look fine without it, but it does really suit you."

You lean your head to the side, trying to get a read on his face. He just keeps on looking at the birds.

There's a harshness to the shadows on his face, painting him in greys. You don't realise it, but you're just the same - shrouded in the darkness of the night. His bedroom curtains are open, but the city lights aren't that bright at this time in the morning. Without the glitter to catch in what little light there is, your spark is dulled.

"You're just not used to seeing me without it," you say with a smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes.

He lets his head fall to the side, mirroring you. Strands of hair fall over his forehead, obscuring his eyes, tickling at his lashes. You reach over and knock a couple out of the way, trying to disregard the weight of his gaze. Deciding it's impossible, you look back up to the ceiling.

"You saw him tonight?" Jeongguk asks.

All you do is nod, because you're pretty sure you'll cry if you try and speak. The way your lips press together, brows tight above your pitiful eyes is painful to watch. You take a second. Take a breath. Wait for the next question.

"You slept with him?"

Jeongguk feels bad for the leap in questions, but he knows he's getting nods or shakes, and he want to get to the root of why the fuck you're ending your night in his room instead of with the guy you've been hung up on for months. Doesn't know his name. Doesn't care to know it. Thinks he's a prick.

A wallowing sadness sits in his chest when you nod your head, not for himself, but for you. He's never seen you like this. Never knew someone could have so much power over you.

Headstrong is all he's ever known you to be, but he feels like one of the King's men trying to put bloody Humpty Dumpty back together again.

You swallow back the sob that's causing a commotion in your oesophagus, as if the movement doesn't remind you of his hand on your throat.

God, you wish you could just stop thinking about him.

You think it would have hurt less if he'd have taken a knife to it.

Instead, his hands had been so warm and gentle, that you thought it meant he was trying to reclaim the space that used to hold a necklace with his initial.

Jeongguk doesn't want to ask the next question, but knows that as your friend - as a duty of care - he has to.

"Did he..." Jeongguk pauses, unsure of how to phrase in a delicate way.

"No," you finally, say, because you know where it's going. "He didn't hurt me."

"You've been crying," Jeongguk objects.

"Didn't hurt me like that."

He nods, accepting your response. Still has no idea what to fucking say, but he never does around you. S'why he always takes a moment or so. Brain just doesn't work when you're around.

"You wanna talk about it?"

To talk means to cry, and you don't really wanna do that. You glance over to him, and watch the way he's nibbling on his bottom lip, toying with his ring. Eyes still on the ceiling, Jeongguk pretends not to notice. You're both good at that. Pretending.

The silver of his jewellery - his piercings, his thick bracelets, the chain around his neck - just reminds you of the earrings that you're wearing.

They're dainty. Pretty little hoops. Intricate leaves trail around the smooth shape, tiny sparkling stones catching in the light. You'd worn them deliberately. Had hoped he'd notice.

Not Jeongguk. You couldn't really care less for what he did or didn't notice about you.

You'd worn them for Seokjin.

Had been wearing them since he messaged you midweek - I'm in town at the weekend. Will you be around? - and now you kind of want to rip them out.

You'd hoped he would remember the trip you took together to Gyeongju. Your third time visiting the city together; just before autumn was about to settle into the earth, rusted leaves sinking to the ground, like the blossoms during the spring. The cyclic nature of the seasons used to make you smile. 

Just like he did, in the old Hanok where a silversmith crafted twisted hoops in front of your very eyes. He told you he'd buy you the entire store when he finally became a big shot. Settled for a tiny pair of silver hoops, instead.

They're the ones you're wearing now. The ones you hoped he would notice.

But he didn't notice. Not tonight. Not once. Not even when his lips were on your lobes, nor when his hands were on your body, his voice quiet in your ear as he'd told you tall tales about how much he'd missed you.

His voice had been so soothing at the time - "still take me so well, darling" - like aloe on sunburn - "like that. Fuck, darlin', like that" - but you realise now he was just covering you in deep heat. "Uh- shit. You always been this tight? Fuck. You're gonna make me cum so fucking hard."

Only a matter of time until he was scalding your skin all over again. "Shit." Scorching. "I'm there." Tarnishing. "Take it all for me, take it- ugh. Yeah, that's it. Good girl. Good fuckin' girl." Destroying. "Fuck."

And oh, what a scar Kim Seokjin leaves on your skin.

His handprints are warped all over your body. You're red in the wake of his touch, sandpaper palms scrubbing away at the efforts you've made to heal yourself in the past few months. Your cracks are showing again, and you're not wearing any glitter to fill the gaps.

You're broken, and it shows.

You swallow a little harshly, tongue licking your dry lips before biting down on them. Lashline warming again, you simply shrug. His duvet rustles beneath you. "Not much to talk about."

"We both know you wouldn't be here if that was true."

"But it is," you say with a fragile laugh. "He came over, and then-" Your voice cracks. "And then he left."

Should have seen it coming, really. You reap what you sow.

Jeongguk knows you never stay. Learnt it pretty quickly. Didn't ask too many questions about it. Never occurred to him that maybe you'd ever want someone else to stay, instead.

"I... ," you mumble as you try and think of the right words to say. Your cheeks are a little damp, and you know that Jeongguk knows you're crying, even if he isn't looking at you, but what's the point in pretending anymore? "I really thought that it wasn't me, yanno? I thought other people were the issue."

One of the birds he's watching catches on the wings of its neighbour, awkwardly straggling before falling back into position. Jeongguk thinks he should cut them all down.

"What do you mean?"

"The whole..."

When you pause, Jeongguk looks over to you. Your face is a little scrunched up, feeling awkward about such an admission. It makes him laugh how you can appear so pitiful and yet still so classically you. You laugh too, stuttering on your breath, using the back of your palm to dust away some of your tears.

"The whole intimacy thing," you finally continue with a small smile - because if you don't laugh, you will cry. "I thought that other people were the issue; that they didn't compel me to stay. I never once thought that it was me. That I was the issue - but I can't even fucking compel the guy I thought I'd marry one day to stay. It's me. I'm the fucking problem."

You're smiling as you finish talking, but it fades quickly. Withers like the flowers Seokjin had bought you on the evening he'd broken up with you. There's still one pressed between the pages in your journal. Petals plucked. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves-

"You're not a problem," Jeongguk says, eyes hard as they look to his ceiling. His hands are still linked over his stomach, but he's resisting the urge to pace the room. He needs to wrap his head around what you're saying, but can't do it when he's sitting still. Needs to walk in a circle to try and find where the fuck it starts. Doesn't make sense to him how you're blaming yourself for your ex not staying. He chooses not to speak about him, instead trying to help you make sense of why you leave. "You don't stay at the end of your hook-ups 'cause a purpose is served. It's like how you don't stay in a restaurant after you eat your dinner."

"But you do," you say, as you cross your legs and clamber to a seated position. Jeongguk remains in place, and you notice just how perplexed he seems. "You have your dinner, maybe even dessert, and then what? You talk. Enjoy other's company."

He sits now, too. "Okay, maybe it was the wrong analogy-"

"It's not. It's entirely correct. Gguk, I-" you sigh, shoulders lifting to your ears and falling again. Exasperation pollutes your features.

You've given the topic a lot of thought, but never shared your conclusions. It's all a bit daunting.

"You...?" He encourages.

"I never stay, because I never want to give anyone the same power that he had over me. Never want anything more than casual sex, cause it can't hurt me." You voice is bereft, a small pitiful laugh punctuating your words. "How fucking sad is that?"

You're speaking so quietly that all Jeongguk can do is listen as your words slip into in ears and get all jumbled about inside his head. He needs time to reorganise them; to understand what you actually mean.

"I have so many rules and restrictions that it's barely even sex these days, more... a transaction? And yet when Jin messaged me, I fucking folded. Yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir. I..." you tail off, but Jeongguk doesn't push for more.

Just waits till you're ready - and when you are, you speak at such a speed it's almost hard to understand a single thing you're saying.

"I let him fuck me like he still loves me. Do you have any idea what that does to a person? How much it can fuck with their head? I broke down all of my walls, because he used to make me feel so safe and for some reason, I told myself it would be okay - but then you messaged and - fuck."

You look down at your thumbs and shrug, a deep sigh exhaling from your very soul, as if your bones are creaking beneath your skin.

"When you messaged, I woke up and he wasn't fucking there. He'd left. Treated me like how I treat my transactional shags. And I mean, maybe it's my own fault, maybe I deserved it, but fuck. I let him kiss me. I let him... I let him fuck me like he meant it, and then he left as if I meant nothing to him."

By the time you finish venting, Jeongguk looks so bewildered that he actually seems scared. You look back down to where your thumbs are twiddling, shameful of your own emotions. A pitter-patter of tears hit his duvet, and you just let them. You're not crying. Not sobbing, at least. Just tearful. Bamboozled by your own feelings.

Jeongguk's at a loss for what the fuck he's supposed to do.

He's never been the kind to comfort his friends. Isn't really sure how the fuck he's supposed to comfort you. He's no stranger to crying girlfriends - he's had a few of those - but this isn't like that. He can't just kiss it better, not that he'd want to. Be like kissing Jimin at this point, he tells himself.

And either way, it's so unbelievably inappropriate to even think of something like that when you're literally in front of him in tears over another bloke. His mind is just wandering because he's panicking, but oh god, you're crying still and how the fuck do you have so much liquid in your face? Surely you'll wither up? He's not sure he's ever seen a pair of cheeks so wet.

But then you shrug, and sniff back the tears. Purse your lips. Press them together so tight you can't make a sound. And then you look at him and say, "I'm sorry. This is, like, so much. I didn't mean to be such a big fucking cry baby I just-"

"Hey, no," he protests, face contorted with a little disgust. He can't believe you're apologising for this.

Jeongguk's no stranger to a complex. He's got one wrapped around his pretty pink brain like a metal chain, padlocked where his desire to take chances should be. The fear of rejection outweighs any possible good that could come from going after the things he wants - and as he watches the way your smile quivers before it falls into a quiet sob, he knows exactly what his fear is trying to save himself from.

And so he just gently smiles, and says, "it really fucking sucks when the people we love don't love us back."

You nod. "Fucking sucks."

He's only known you for a couple of months. Doesn't know who you were before your ex; only the after. But he quite likes who you are now. Thinks that whatever the fuck that prick put you through is undeserved. Is actually quite angry that he'd fuck you over like that.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, as you dab your face with sweater paws, trying to get rid of the remains of your tears.

He hates that you're apologising again, but he lets you. Knows you'll just say sorry again if he tells you to stop.

"I just didn't wanna be in my room, yanno?" A sob tries to escape, but you catch it just in time. Attagirl. "Fucking smells like him. I'd forgotten about his aftershave -" This is a lie. "- and now I can't get it out of my fucking nose."

Jeongguk grins, and tries a little banter. "Probably a good thing if it masks the way you smell."

"Fuck off," you smile back at him, biting down on your lip to stop it from shaking. "Now's not the time."

And yet you're so glad he's still being normal with you. Not so glad for his next question, but glad for the perspective he's trying to give to the situation.

"Did you at least... yanno?"

Your eyes roll so far back that you can basically see your frontal lobe. Jeongguk is a little horrified by the fact your entire eyeball is bloodshot, and doesn't hide his disgust very well. He tries. Just looks a little constipated when you refocus on him. Makes you laugh.

"Pretended," you admit a little awkwardly, and when Jeongguk's jaw drops, you reach over to close it. "My god, shut up! I didn't want to make him feel bad. If I knew then what I know now-"

"That he's a cunt?"

"-Then maybe I wouldn't have."

You would have. You'd turn water into wine if Seokjin asked you to. Let him drink your blood if a drought pilfered his water supply. Would sacrifice everything to just give him a measly something.

You'll never admit to any of that, though.

Silence simmers between the pair of you. There's not much left to say.

"I'm sorry he left," Jeongguk says, because you deserve an apology and knows you'll never get one from the person who owes it.

"Me too."

He reaches over and ruffles your hair, smiling in that way he does when his dimples form and his lip ring does a little dance. It curves upwards, smiling too.

"You wanna get a shower?" He offers. He's terrible at comforting people, granted, but he's good at thinking of solutions. "Everything here smells different to your apartment. You can get rid of whatever's haunting your nose with my incredibly manly strawberry shower gel."

You laugh, and Jeongguk feels himself relax. Hadn't realised his back had been so tense as he twists his waist to click it. You let yourself fall onto your back again, and into his duvet. "God, how on earth do the girls resist you?"

"They can't. Get a shower, Byeol. I'll make up somewhere for you to sleep, alright?"

You don't question the way he calls you Byeol again. Just let him. Think it's nice, actually.

And like the girls that apparently can't resist him, you can't say no to his instructions.

He shows you to the bathroom, and when you whisper about being worried you'll wake Jimin, Jeongguk shakes his head. "Sleeps like a log after a night out."

There's something incredibly kind about how he shows you which shower gels are his (because apparently he needs three in the shower at all times), and how to change the temperature (but leaves it on his favourite setting because he thinks you'll like it, too). He tells you to wait before you get in, because he's coming back with something - and when he does, you pout.

"So, this is like, my good towel. I don't keep it in here 'cause Jimin'll use it for god knows what, but it's really fluffy," he says, and then insists that you rub it against your cheek. He's not wrong. Might just be the fluffiest towel you've ever encountered. "Unreal, right? Like an actual cloud."

And then despite how gentle he's been, he reverts back to his typical self when he throws a shirt in your face. "For afterwards."

He shuts the door before you can say anything else in response. You just kind of stand there, his shirt looped over your shoulders, laughing softly to yourself, face furrowed in confusion. Jeon Jeongguk might just be the strangest human you've ever met.

But you're also the girl who took a canvas painting of breadfish to his gym, just to get a laugh out of him, so maybe you're well-suited in that regard.

Their shower is far nicer than yours, the water pressure frankly wasted on two boys. Though you wouldn't trade your apartment with Danbi for the world, you considering making future five AM pity calls just for the luxury of a waterfall showerhead.

You use the strawberry shower gel, not because you like it any better than citrus fruits or fresh pine, but mainly because it's the one Jeongguk first mentioned. It's sweet - almost as sweet as your own vanilla one - but still fresh enough to make you feel a little brand new. There's an ache in your heart as you wash your ex's touch from you, and you find yourself sniffing again - but you don't let yourself fall into that trap.

You've cried enough.

And so wrap yourself in Jeongguk's towel, close the lid of their toilet and sit for a while. The clock reads twelve minutes past six. Guilt simmers in your chest, knowing that Jeongguk didn't need to be dealing with you at such a ridiculous time in the morning - but when you reach his bedroom, knocking before you enter to find him organising a mountain of pillows on his floor, you can't help but feel thankful he's the person you reached out to.

It's kinda his fault for texting you at five AM and waking you up, but that's neither here nor there.

"Hey," he smiles as he turns to face you, and tries his hardest to avoid staring at your legs. Your hair is bundled up into his towel, and his shirt fits you like a dress, cutting off midway down your thighs. "Sorry, I just didn't know how many pillows you like? So I just got them all?"

"One is normally fine," you laugh, as you begin to tease your hair through the towel. "Thank you for this, by the way. Incredible towel."

"I told you so," he grins. "Curtains open or closed?"

"Closed?" You question, confused at how it's not an obvious answer - but you don't know that Jeongguk sleeps with them open on Saturday nights to make it easier for him to wake for the gym in the morning.

"Sure you're gonna be comfortable on the floor?" He asks as he reaches over to close the curtains. "I really don't mind taking the floor."

"I'm sure," you nod. "Hardly looks like a floor anymore."

You've a point. He really did it overdo it - but he's not had a sleepover since he was about fourteen. Isn't really sure what the protocol is.

At least, not a sleepover like this.

Nor have you. No time for braiding each other's hair and gossiping about your favourite celebrities, though. You find yourself drifting off almost as soon as you curl up into Jeongguk's expertly crafted pile of pillows. You don't realise, 'cause he doesn't tell you, but he's given you the pillows from his bed, too. They're a little more expensive, better for a good night's sleep.

He reaches to the end of the bed for his good towel. It's a little damp, but not too wet that it would cause any issues as he rolls it up and sticks it beneath his head. Isn't the first time he's used a towel for a pillow, and likely won't be the last. He just kind of thought you needed the comfort of expensive cushions more than he did.

"Sweet dreams, Byeol," he whispers, knowing you're out like a light, but wanting to wish you well regardless. You deserve that at the very least, he thinks.

Unlocking his phone, he cancels his gym alarm, and tosses his phone back down onto his mattress. His room is dark, but he can see the outline of your body, the curve of your hip and the dip of your waist as you adjust ever so slightly.

He's sure that when the morning comes, you'll be a bit embarrassed about it all - but for now, he settles into how comfortable it feels to have you around.

There's nothing intimate about the situation between the pair of you (which is probably why you don't mind staying over) - but when he hears you squeak a little in your sleep, pillows rustling as you move, he kind of gets it. Understands why you wouldn't trust just anyone with your most vulnerable state.

He's just the same; except his fears come in the form of rejection. He never makes it to the intimacy part, because he never deals with the stuff that needs to precede it.

And as he stares up at the shadows of his origami birds, a frown framing his pretty features, he decides you're both absolutely fucked.

AO3 | MASTERLIST | NEXT

[letsgetrowdy43]

what about adam begging hughes!sister to come with him to wherever (hopefully anaheim) but she’s skeptical bc she doesn’t want to be a burden but he assures her that he wants nothing more than for her to be with him:)

You’re gonna go far—

Au Masterlist!!

Adam and Sunny had tearfully parted ways after the draft, she was heading back to Michigan to resume her summer vacation with her brothers and family friends while he and his father flew out to Columbus for their development camp.

"I'm gonna miss you" she mumbled into his chest, tears staining his cotton shirt as she hugged him tightly, for the last time in a while. He placed a kiss on the crown of her head, "it'll only be for a few weeks and then I’ll be there, with Luca, for the rest of the summer" She shook her head as she stood on her tiptoes to kiss him on the lips, “still too long.”

A smile now worked its way onto her lips as she buried her face in the crook of his neck, “you and Gavo can’t have too much fun without me” “Won't be half the fun without you” he mumbled as he placed a kiss on the side of her head, his eyes looking up to see Ellen and Julia crying as they whispered to each other about the young couple.

Sunny pulled away first, "I'm gonna kiss you one more time then I'm gonna go and check-in, cause if I stay any longer Mom is gonna have to pry me off of you" She smiled, his thumb wiped the remainder of tears from her cheek as she cupped his face in her hands. His forehead bumped into hers, "love you" he whispered as he kissed her gently for the last time in a while. "I love you so much," she whispered as she pulled away from him.

ꕥꕥꕥ

Two days later Sunny was finally back in the warmth of her brother's summer house, feeling slightly down as she returned to her life without Adam. With her nose in a book to pass the time, Quinn walked into the room with a soft smile, sitting down next to her as she marked her page and cuddled into his side.

"I think it's over for us," she whispered as Quinn opened his mouth to ask her what was bothering her, "I think he's gonna do great things in Ohio and I'm gonna be a burden back in Michigan," Quinn closed his mouth and hugged her tightly. "I think that you mean a lot to him, and yeah you two are on different paths now, but I think that in the near future, you two will be exactly right where you were meant to be”

The girl smiled softly as her brother hugged her tightly, “when did you get so insightful?” “It comes with old age” he joked, placing a kiss on the top of her head before stealing the remote from beside her.

ꕥꕥꕥ

Her phone buzzed as a voicemail from Adam popped up on her screen, and her brows furrowed as she realized just how zoned out of reality she was.

“Hey sun, I just wanted to call and tell you that I’ve talked with everyone here and I think I’m gonna start my rookie year in September,” she can hear the excitement mixed with sadness in his voice as he lets out a deep breath, “I know it’s not what I planned, but they really want me here, and I think I’m ready” He paused for a second as he thought of his next words, “Call me back when you get this message, I love you”

Her heart dropped to her stomach as he ended the message, immediately dialling his number to call him. Her emotions were running high as the phone began to ring in her ears, “hello?” stopped her pacing around her room the moment he spoke.

“I'm so proud of you,” she spits out as soon as she hears his voice. “So it’s okay with you?” He asks genuinely as he stops pacing around his room and takes a seat on his hotel bed. “More than okay, you worked so hard for all of it”

A moment of silence hit them both.

“What does this mean for us?” She asked quietly, her eyes beginning to water as she heard nothing but silence on the other end. It was the million-dollar question, they both wanted to know where they now sat. She felt secure enough in her love for Adam that she would do long distance for the next three years, but was Adam on that level?

“I don’t want to hold you back, so if you want to call it quits now I understand, I just want what’s best for you” she whispered, begging for some sort of response. “I don’t want us to end sunny,” his brows furrowed as he laid back on his bed, hands massaging his temples as he fought off the stress headache that he’d been harbouring all day, “I want you, I want this.” Sunny nodded even though he couldn’t see her, “if you’d have me, I’d want you here for all of it.”

“In Columbus?” “In Columbus." he paused to let that sink in for a second, really contemplating if he wanted to add this new pressure onto her shoulders, "I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but maybe after UMich you’d consider moving here with me?” his voice laced with nerves, “you don’t have to say yes now, but just think about it for me.” “Wherever you want me, I’ll be there” she whispered as his face broke out into a grin.

He ran a hand through his hair, “So if I asked you to fly out here to be a witness while I sign my ELC you’ll be here?” Her face warmed as, “in a heartbeat” She bit her lip to hold back her smile as she opened her laptop to find flights for the morning

-

-

-

This took me literally three days to write cause I've been so busy, but here.

This is also slightly fueled by the song "You're Gonna Go Far" by Noah Kahan, cause a friend recently told me that this song reminds them of me and now it's the only song I can listen to :)

[discount-shades]

Sleepy Baby: Part 15

a/n: There are only going to be about 3 more parts to this story I think. Also I have another fic planned with Jake. :)

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin / Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1400 ish

Summary: Meet the rest of Jake’s Fam

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When you pull up at Jake's parents house you can see George and Tammy waiting on the front porch looking at you expectantly. “Do they know?” You look up at Jake. He smiles sheepishly and nods. You clasp his hand in yours and when you reach the top of the stairs you hold out your left hand to them. 

Tammy screams in excitement and comes running. You go to step away to let her hug her son but it is you she pulls into her arms. She doesn't say anything, just holds you close and when you go to pull away she just squeezes you tighter, and you melt into her arms. It’s a hug from a mother, something you hadn't realized how much you missed. You can feel the tears rolling down your face as you hide your emotions in her shoulder. 

You miss your parents every day, but a sad, bitter part of you took comfort that they never had to see you get your heart broken by Ian. Standing here with Jake's ring on your finger and Tammy’s arms around you, you wish they could be with you now. To see the future you had rebuilt with the man by your side.

When you do eventually pull back she brushes the tears off your cheeks with her thumbs. “I’m so happy to have you as my daughter-in-law.” Your smile is teary and she pulls you back into a hug. “I always wanted another daughter after Julia quit dressing Jake up in dresses.” At your questioning laughter she just smiles, “I’ll show you the pictures.” 

She finally releases you and pulls a stick out of your hair as she does. Holding it up to you she winks and throws it off the deck. She turns to hug Jake and George comes over and wraps you in a hug. He gives you a squeeze that causes you to let out a little squeak before placing a kiss on the top of your head and lets you go. “I’m so glad you said yes.”

“He said yes to me,” you laugh, “I asked him first!”

“How come you never asked permission to marry my son.” His stern expression momentarily has you taken aback before you notice it does not reach his eyes.

“Your son is a strong independent man, and we will not submit to the patriarchy.” Your answer causes George to let out a snort of laughter. 

“I think you will remember that I asked first.” Jake's interruption has you frowning at him. 

“No, I distinctly remember asking you first.”

“But you never said the words Kisses.” Jake has a shit eating grin on his face. You open your mouth to retort but close it when you realize he is right. Your insistence on teasing him has resulted in him being able to say he was the one who proposed for the rest of your life together. You try to glare at him in mock anger but soon you are laughing and throw up your hands in defeat. 

Tammy cackles, “Enjoy it while it lasts Jake, I don’t think you will win often.” She ushers the two of you inside to get cleaned up for dinner before Jake’s sisters arrive. 

When you and Jake come downstairs after your shower, Jake's sister Julia and her husband Mike are there. “I knew there was someone out there smart enough to lock this idiot down.” Julia greets you while putting Jake in a headlock that he gently untangles himself from. “Now for the real reason I’m here,” She turns to you with an intense look on her face. “Did you have to undergo my mothers ‘No Sex in the House’ talk?” 

“Yes, it was mortifying, thank you for that.” Jules grins at Mike at your response. 

“You have been avenged, my dear.” She pats her husband on the arm and you chuckle before you are interrupted by a child's shriek. 

“Uncle Jake!” A small blonde girl comes running and leaps into Jake's arms. Jake swings her around in a hug before setting her back down. 

“Evie!” You have heard so much about the little girl in Jake’s arms and can't help but smile at how he interacts with the child. “Eves, I want you to meet someone.” Jake introduces you and you feel more nervous meeting Evie than you did Jake's parents. “I’m going to marry her.” Jake whispers in the girl's ear.

“Did he get you a nice ring?” You grin at the imperious question.

“He did,” you hold out your hand and show her your ring. “I got him one too,” you motion Jake over and he also holds out his ring for her appraisal and she nods in approval at both rings.

Evie smiles sweetly up at you. “Well I’m glad he finally got around to asking you to marry him.” She says, rolling her eyes at her uncle. “He bought that ring forever ago.” With that she joins Tammy and George in the kitchen.

“You discuss your dating life with your seven year old niece?” you look at Jake in exasperation.

“No, she’s eight now.” Jake says indignantly. “Also she badgers me every time I talk to her, asking if I have a girlfriend and won’t change the subject until I answer. When I told her about you she immediately started asking when I would propose.”

“I put her up to it,” Julia smiles proudly. “He never tells me anything, but Evie has him wrapped around her finger.”

“Judas.” Jake mutters in mock horror under his breath and everyone laughs. 

“Show her the pictures of Jake,” Tammy's voice carries in from the kitchen. Julia grabs a photo album from the shelf and sits beside you on the couch, Jake sitting on your other side. Inside are pictures of Jake from when he was about three years old until around nine. In every one of them he is wearing a dress and in some of them makeup. 

In most he is alone, in some he is with Julia, and some with Stacy who is usually wearing jeans and another girl around Julia's age who can only be Stacy's sister. Why?” you ask giggling at the pictures. 

“Julia asked so I said yes, and when I told her I didn’t want to anymore she stopped.” Jake just shrugs. “It made her happy, and she would sneak me snacks from the shelves I couldn't reach.”

You smile fondly at Jake, thinking of all the things he did for you just because you asked. “She didn’t blackmail you with the Big Secret you promised to tell me.” you raise your eyebrows and Jake sighs.

“You know the broken plate in the glass case in the kitchen?” You think for a moment before nodding, leaning in to hear Jake’s soft voice. “It's over 120 years old. My moms family bought it from Europe.” Your jaw drops, already connecting the dots of what happened to the plate. 

“I hit it off an open shelf with a nerf dart when I was nine.” Jake glances at the door with a guilty expression. “Mom had this old cat that she loved almost as much as us.” 

“Jake you didn’t!” you gasp in horror.

He nods sadly, “It was spring so the cat was shedding and I took some fur and kinda wedged it in with the broken plate.”

“That's when I caught him,” Jules says with relish. “Blackmail for the rest of his life. Mom never did love the cat the same. Jake tried to make up for it but the cat never really cared for him.”

You can't help the sad little laugh that comes out at that, picturing Jake trying to apologize to the cat he framed. There is a commotion at the door and Jake’s  sister Jessie walks in with her girlfriend, Kate. Introductions are made and you ask Kate if she has ever received Tammy’s ‘No Sex in the House’ talk.

“She tried,” Kate says, with a conspiratorial grin. “I asked her if it only counted as sex if I used a strap on or if fingering counted as well and she started laughing and gave up.”

[canirove]

My neighbour Rúben | Chapter 3

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"Aww, sweetheart. I'm so glad you were able to come" grandma said, giving me a hug.

"I would not miss grandad's birthday for anything in the world."

"Not like your father" he said, also hugging me. The moment my dad knew I was coming back to London, he suddenly had an important meeting to attend and he couldn't join us all to celebrate. "He is a coward. Not being able to face his own daughter..."

"Let's leave that conversation for another day, shall we?" grandma said. "Today is a day to celebrate that she has a new job. C'mon, tell us everything about this Spanish girl. Is she posh? Where is the kid's dad?"

"Yes, share all the gossip with your grandma" grandad laughed, sitting down on his big chair.

"She isn't posh. Everything Lucy has is because she's worked her ass off to get it. Language, sorry."

"Don't worry, darling. Living in the North does that to you" grandma said, making grandad snort.

"We also swear on this part of the country, you know?" he said.

"Whatever" grandma replied, rolling her eyes. "What about the dad? You didn't mention anything."

"She divorced from her husband last year. Well, they actually are still divorcing, there is nothing official. But they went their separate ways a year ago."

"A divorce lawyer getting divorced. Funny" grandad said.

"Getting a divorce is never funny. Especially when there is a child involved. How is she dealing with it?"

"Julia is ok. Her dad also is a lawyer, so she is used to only seeing him from time to time."

"That is so sad... But what happened? Why did they get a divorce?"

"You are so noisy" grandad chuckled.

"I just want to know who is the woman my granddaughter is working for!"

"And knowing the reason why she got a divorce is important because..."

"Because!" she said. 

"I don't know why she is divorcing from her husband. We don't know each other that well just yet" I shrugged. Which was a lie. Lucy and I had instantly connected and shared all our dramas with each other.

"Anyway, let's talk about more important things" grandad said before grandma could ask anything else. "You are coming to the game tomorrow, aren't you?"

"It is your birthday present, grandad. Of course I am." He's been an Arsenal fan since he was a little kid, and every time my father allowed it, he would take me to one of their games. Tomorrow they are playing against one of the big ones, Manchester City, and he wants me to go with him. I don't follow football that much, but I always enjoy going to the games and spending some time just the two of us.

"Oh, yes. And Robert is taking his grandson with him too. When was the last time you saw Harry?" grandma asked.

Harry... The grandson of my grandad's best friend, the one they've wanted me to marry since we both were kids, and also the one who tried to kiss me the last time we saw each other, getting a punch on the nose as an answer. 

"I can't remember when I last saw him" I lied.

"Well, I'm sure he is looking forward to seeing you" grandma said. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"This can't be your granddaughter!" Robert said when we met outside the Emirates Stadium. "Where did the girl with the pigtails go?"

"Hi" I said. I think I haven't worn pigtails since I was three, but oh well. "Harry."

"Hello" he replied, not meeting my eyes. It looked like what had happened during our last encounter definitely still was in his head. Good. Now he probably knew what happens when someone tells you no and you insist.

"Let's go inside, shall we?" grandad said. "Today is a big day, we'll probably have to wait longer than usual at the queue."

Once inside the stadium, we were seated next to the benches, getting to see the players very close, especially when walking in and out of the tunnel.

"Ah, look at this atmosphere" grandad said. "Those City boys aren't used to something like this back home, are they, Robert?"

"They definitely aren't" he replied, both men starting to laugh.

"But at least they win something" Harry said under his breath. Since he was sitting next to me, I was the only one who heard him. 

"Who do you truly support?" I whispered.

"Chelsea. But don't tell my grandad, it'll break his heart."

"Your secret is safe with me. You know I'm really good at that."

"Yeah..." he replied, his ears turning bright red. 

The first half of the game was just City attacking and Arsenal trying to defend themselves, somehow making it to the half-time with no goals on any side. As the players started walking towards the tunnel, there was one that caught my attention, one that was arguing with another teammate. Before he disappeared, he looked up, our eyes meeting just for a brief moment, and I could swear I had seen him before. But where? On tv? Online? There was something too familiar about him to be just a complete stranger.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Harry said.

"What?"

"You are completely gone, definitely thinking about something."

"It's just that a City player looked familiar. I guess I've seen him somewhere before."

"Maybe out in Manchester? You live in the same city."

"I don't think these guys and I visit the same places" I chuckled.

"You never know."

"Anyway, I'm going to the bathroom. Grandad, do you want a drink or something?"

"I'm fine. Thank you, darling."

When I made it back, the second half had already started.

"Which player looked familiar?" Harry asked me when I sat down.

"I don't know. A tall one, brown hair. He was arguing with another one that looked tiny next to him.”

"Dias?"

"Uh? Why are you speaking in Spanish?"

"That's his name. Well, his last name. When City came out, he turned around and looked to where we are sitting with a confused look. Maybe he also recognized you."

"Nah, that's impossible. Someone probably insulted him and that's why he looked like that."

I had never met a City player, had I? Someone would have told me, they supposedly are superstars.  

The game obviously ended with City winning but just by one goal, and grandad and Robert seemed to be very proud about it. We were still on our seats, waiting until most people had left the stadium, when I found myself looking again at the player from the first half. He was giving some interviews, and the way he was standing while talking, made him look even more familiar. Who was this stupidly handsome man? Because he was handsome. And hot. Very hot. His t-shirt was sticking to his body, letting you see his very defined abs and pectorals. And his arms... His arms were the size of my head. 

When he finished talking, he smiled at the reporter before saying goodbye, and it clicked. 

"No way" I gasped.

"What?" Harry said next to me. 

"Who is he?" I asked, nodding towards the City player.

"Oh, that's the one I told you was looking this way. Dias."

"But you said that's his last name, right? What's his name?"

"Rúben. Rúben Dias."

Rúben. My Chris Evans. The hot neighbour. It was him. He was a fucking football player. And not any player, no. A Manchester City one. And now he was looking at us, at me, trying to figure out why I also looked familiar. 

"He's looking at us again" Harry said. "Are you sure you don't know each other?"

"We..." But before I was able to say that we didn't, Rúben was smiling and waving at me. And I was waving back, also smiling. But while he gave me a cute smile, I probably was smiling like an idiot or with the ugliest grin.

"You were saying..." 

"I don't know him. I just waved back because..."

"He's hot" Harry said.

"Yes. That's exactly why. Wouldn't you have done the same with a hot girl?"

"Maybe... But are you really sure you don't know each other?"

"I'm really sure, Harry. Stop asking."

"Ok" he said, definitely not believing me.

"Alright kids, ready to leave? I'm starving" grandad said.

"Ready" I replied. Anything to stop Harry from asking more questions, and to stop me from thinking about the fact that Rúben, the neighbour, actually was Rúben Dias, Manchester City player and football star.

[sweetcreatxr]

♥︎ Always been you ♥︎

✰ Part 1. If the world was ending ✰

Chris Evans X singer!male reader (29)

⚠︎ Warning : angst, sebastian being the best big brother (???), Feels talk, post break up, Drunk Chris and sad Y/n ( these are not really Warnings but we never know !)

A/N : ♡︎ ok so first of, this is my second time writing in English because I'm French so pls if there are any spelling errors don't insult me or anything else pls ! I'll try to do my best ! シ︎

Part 2 !

______

Pov y/n third person

Y/n was sitting, arms crossed and cross-legged on the edge of the stage where he was going to perform in less than three hours.

His fingers rapidly tapping on his phone and his furrowed brow showed his anxiety and inability to stay calm.

Sebastian, who had promised to be present and who was sitting in the same place as his brother, noticed that he was not well and came to hug him.

"Shuuuu it will be fine y/n, I'm sure he's mad at himself as we speak, he's just an idiot but an idiot madly in love with you."

Y/n was crying in his big brother's arms, his emotions having taken over everything else.

He had been in a relationship with the one and only Chris Evans who happened to be one of his brother's best friends.

They had met during the filming of the first Captain America in June 2010 and the two men had quickly created a strong bond despite their age differences.

It wasn't until 2014 that their relationship became official worldwide, making Chris the happiest man in the world by his side.

"You guys are meant to be together, this breakup is only a painful passage. I'm sure of it! You're like mussels and fries, one will be never be without the other!"

Y/n chuckled lightly, amused by the sort of joke his brother had tried to pull off to cheer him up. But the breakup with Chris came back to him just as quickly and he started crying again but this time he got up and stood in front of Sebastian who was looking at him with a sad smile.

" Seb Chris has been ignoring my messages for more than 5 months, my calls yet he sees them but he doesn't do anything about it! He acts as if he and I never existed when we've been together for more than 8 years! 8 fucking years!"

He stopped to catch his breath and immediately continued

"We had plans! We wanted to build a family, get married too! But damn it I can't take it anymore, I'm tired! We left each other for bullshit , just because of a fucking misunderstanding seb, a misunderstanding...."

He finished his sentence while trying himself on the ground and folding his knees on his chest.

"I love him so much if you knew, I could die for this man and he doesn't give a damn about it"

" what are you saying y/n, he's also at his worst, he loves you mad too, you are everything to him!"

Y/n took his phone and put it in brother's face before returning to his initial position.

It was Chris' Instagram where you could see that he was in a nightclub surrounded by several girls and guys who danced with him and some who touched him.

" It doesn't look like he's at his lowest, he seems to have endless fun, it's like he was just waiting for this..."

There was jealousy in his voice as well as sadness, a lot of sadness. How could Chris forget 8 years of a relationship in just 5 months?

" I'm going to go talk to him, okay?! I'm gonna ring him and bring him back to you, I'm gonna go now and wave to me when the show starts, I don't want to miss your entrance!"

Sebastian walked towards the exit of the performance hall leaving a tired, sad and angry y/n.

POV Chris third person

Chris was currently sitting on the edge of the sidewalk which was loosening on an establishment in which music could be heard at miles, cigarette in hand, heavy heart and breathless.

He only smoked on rare occasions, breaking up with the person he considered and considers the love of his life, being an excellent one according to Chris.

He had no idea how he ended up there, unhappy and alone when he could have been in the arms of his lover. His own brain refused to function properly, only remnants of their argument came back to him.

"Are you kidding me or what?"

"You're so naive y/n"

"Chris stop it, I fucking love you! You have nothing to fear!"

"Liar! Don't pretend you didn't notice!"

"Chris I don't know in what language I have to tell you again but NOTHING HAPPENED BETWEEN HIM AND ME! He's just a friend!!"

While Y/n was climbing the stairs to take refuge in their shared room, Chris spoke again and it is exactly THESE words that he will regret for the rest of his life.

"That's it ! Run away! That's all you know how to do anyway! And while you're at it, WHY NOT GO AND MASTURBATE EACH OTHER THROUGH YOUR PHONES AND SPREAD YOUR LEGS LIKE THE WHORE YOU ARE !"

Y/n had turned around, his face filled with tears, deeply shocked by what his boyfriend had just thrown in his own face.

"GO FUCK YOURSELF CHRISTOPHER AND I SINCERELY MEAN IT !"

His brain not allowing him to hear the other words spoken by him as they were so violent Chris then remembers leaving their house, for a walk refresh one's mind.

He ended up heading to Scott's house, his brother, without telling him about their big fight. He first didn't want to blame himself but Scott's accusing face and Sebastian's threats (being his best friend and his ex-almost-brother-in-law) had made him realize that it was entirely his fault.

But being stubborn and proud as he was, it was impossible for him to return home. Chris stayed for more than 4 months with his brother, not finding the strength to return home, being alone, knowing Y/n on world tour, he didn't know exactly what city he was in, but he knew he was still in the US.

Chris didn't have time to think more that his phone rang, displaying the name of his best friend: Sebastian.

But Sebastian was above all his lover's big brother and he knew that this one was the reason why Seb was calling. He hesitated all the same, not wanting to be scolded even if he thought he deserved it.

"Ha-hallo?"

"Chris, damn finally I've been trying to reach you for days ! You better explain to me what went through your head to do such a crap"

Chris knew that Sebastian was referring to his argument with Y/n but he didn't have the courage to express himself.

"I-I"

Before he could formulate an apologetic sentence, sebastian cut him off.

"You know what? I don't even want to know, get your ass back here and quickly. According to your geo-location you're only 1 hour away so be quick!"

"But I don't know where you are..."

"You'll find out by yourself like a big boy, and by the way, sober up before you come, you smell alcohol even through the phone...bye!"

Chris sighed and got up trying not to stumble, he had only assimilated half of his best friend's words but he was sure of one thing: he wanted to fix things with Y/n and returned to the course of their peaceful life, loving each other madly.

He walked to his car which was parked not far from the club where he had spent the night drinking and smoking endlessly.

Taking the road drunk was certainly a bad idea, that's why before taking the road he asked a barman for $100 to pass him some ice cubes, the barman complied without asking him for anything. It wasn't every day that a celebrity gave him big a tip!

Chris left with his huge bag of ice cubes and headed back to his car. He looked at the bag while sighing.

"That'll teach me to get drunk, come on Chris, you can do it! For your man!"

And he poured the contents of the bag over his head while letting out one more shrill cry which made turn the few passers-by who were present.

Among them, certainly paparazzi being informed of the presence of Chris Evans in a Bostonian club. Chris could not give a damn about them, all he wanted was to find y/n the love of his life! settled in his car being still wet and retrieved his phone then went to the geo-location app and looked for Y/n's

"They can't be far if it's only an hour's drive"

Chris thought while looking for y/n's geo-location.

Turns out Y/n and and Sebastian were in Boston as well but across town.

"Well, looks like they're really close..."

He trailed off and sighed. He hoped despite Sebastian's words that he would have a little more than an hour to think about his apologies. How he was going to do to be forgiven by Y/n, knowing that he had hurt him deeply.

He threw the address on the GPS and started the engine, he was definitely not ready but one thing was sure, he wanted to be by his boyfriend's side in any way possible.

‐-----------

Part 1 completed ! ✅

Argg I'm so happy to begin this mini journey with you guys ! At first I wanted to make 1 part only buy I figured out that it was way to long to do it in 1 sooo there's probably going to be like 3 or 4 max ! Anyway hope you enjoyed it because I did !!

[totaldrama-showdowns]

Submissions for the Non-Human Showdown! Including ones that are invalid!

Fang (x2)

“🦈🦈🦈”

“He's Fang ❤”

Cody Jr (x2)

“Cody Jr! No! Not Aunty Heather!”

Mr Coconut (x2)

“The og. Should have won every season /serious”

vince the alligator (x2)

“SWEEEEP”

“The lore… so immaculate”

the don box (x2)

“bzzz i have a stupid fucking clue for you. ah fuck the interns put me in a lame outfit again”

“what id don on about he's slaying in that shirt”

wt pineapple (x2)

“ALEPINEAPPLE FOREVER!!!”

“👅🐍🐍🐍🐍”

Irene the fish (x2)

“shes so beautiful i’d kiss her too”

“The final remaining member of Team Victory after DJs elimination, Irene went on to win the million and the hearts of many.”

the chrarry baby (x2)

“Goo goo gaa gaa”

“ive got my eye on u chris mclean”

Princess Beth Doll

“I WANT TO BUY ONE SO BAD IRL!!!!! Also, this too is yuri��

Old Jester from reboot S2ep9

“I love when Damien hugged him! That's scene is soooo cute. Also I love fluffy animal!”

Bobo :)

“SEASON 2 SPOILERS Bobo is the name of the bear that had the Raj mask in season 2 episode 12 :) idk I just think he’s silly”

DJ’s bunny

the Chris-shaped cake that Julia's group made

“I wanna eat that thang”

Dramarama Cody

“He's an alien”

Theodore (MK's stuffed unicorn)

(the arts and crafts) Shed (from season 1)

“shed sweep”

that evil little seal from wt

“sooo little and evil. who can hate him”

caleb rock

“possibly the best version of him out there”

the skull duncan carved for courtney

“you cant deny how iconic it was”

eva’s mp3 player

“the most important character in td history”

heather’s various hairstyles

“possibly the most diverse and versatile entity in td historu”

pahkitew island

“The best one”

Myself

“:^)”

ryan seacrests car

“very fast”

chef's car (total dramarama and gen 4)

“MY CAR!!!!!”

alien clone cody

“AAAAAAA*explodes into green goo*”

chris's wig

“wiggin”

heather's wig

“wiggin”

total drama yum yuk happy go time candy fish tails

“You ate it!”

trents five finger shirt

“5”

princess courtney CD

“all the greatest hits!”

owens butt

“fart”

anne maria’s hair style

“Ey im walkin here”

bridgettes surfboard

“BONK”

the fake antlers from the paintball ep

“Duncney”

manitobas fedora

“served!”

beary <3

“it’s LITERALLY beary”

ripper’s world record breaking fart

“he did it”

the portrait of cody as blue boy in wt

“funny looking”

sierra’s pizza box-cum-laptop*

“she uses the internet AND eats witj it. shes a genius”

*Mod Note: this refers to cum meaning: combined with; also used as (used to describe things with a dual nature or function).

waynes accent

“Eh we play hockey eh”

mal ventriloquist doll

“aaah im evil mal doll”

alejandro puppet

“we do a little trolling”

Chef 2.0

“He made him from a cashew”

Mt. Kīlauea

“She has the mercy to have her lava not hot enough to kill Alejandro, Ezekiel, and that random intern like... Everyone say "thank you" or somethin idk. Do you think she feels bad that Alejandro ended up in a robot suit because”

Immunity idol s4-5

“They ruined it's design in the reboot boooooooo”

MK's infernape

“Listen, she's a gamer and she's based. She would totally pick chimchar in bdsp. She probably hates people who tells her to "play platinum" because that was a game made for old people.

Try and exclude this submission, I dare you. There's nothing that says I can't submit theoretical non-humans. There's a non-zero chance that MK has an Infernape and I know it's been raised to have some awesome sneaky move. If you exclude this, I bet you'd allow "Mike's Torterra" because only a grass type fan would be a fire type and MK hater!!

Julia would keep her piplup unevolved and beat her console into tiny bits when she gets to Cynthia btw”

the drone of shame

“[picks up victim and flies away] wheeee”

that giant bowl of rice they fall into in japan

“mm giant bowl of rice”

noah’s dog

“his epic dog”

celine dion cardboard cutout

“love fucking wins #duncney”

the face huggers from Area 51

“rip tyler”

ezekiel MISSING milk carton

“Sad! He died.”

the eagle chris shot and killed

“someone arrest this man. again”

the confessional

“it’s always there for you”

geoff’s splinter

“OW”

the bread from codys pants

“man i need to rewatch island. i fucking love the pants bread”

That ice cream snowman from SMS

“LISTEN. JUST BECAUSE HE IS FROM THE EPISODE THAT SHALL NOT BE NAMED DOES NOT MEAN YOU CAN NOT GIVE HIM HIS RESPECT”

bear

“the one from raptear specifically. let's go lesbians”

that pizza chase threw the challenge for

“clearly he should be with it rather than emma. chemma? chipper? chazee? nope never fucking heard of them”

Momma's Spice

“*sprinkles it on op's head* mmmm tasty”

The Gilded Chris award

WT barf bags

“give a real f to those guys. never appeared after episode 7.”

the toxic marshmallow of loserdom

“killer of staci's hair”

The lavatory confessional

“bitch is iconic. 6/8 is a passing mark!!!”

Courtney's PDA

“why wouldnt they call it a phone idk but its so camp”

The Cassowaries

“Male cassowaries are responsible for raising the young. We love an involved father.”

Fire-breathing winged mountain goats

“You could make an Undertale reference with this (also they're really cool)”

Giant Beetle

“Dott shippers will like this one”

Mutated Maggots

“They're pretty cute!”

Six-Legged Rats

“ADORABLE EEEEEEEP!!!!”

scott bird

“what a beautiful bird”

Chef's car

“It may play a role in mkulia canon”

Gethin

that rainbow porridge in episode 8 of the reboot

“aw hell naw chris cookin up the gay porridge”

The cassowary that fell in love with Zee

“We love an iconic single mother looking for love”

The rat in the cargo hold that appears on screen for 0.5 seconds during Ezekiel's solo in "Come Fly With Us"

“That rat really carried the whole song. Iconic. Astounding. Never before seen talent. Lady Gaga is shaking in her Demonias.”

The Erymanthian Boar

“It wrecked Duncan's shit in Greece.”

The dock of shame

“So many teens walked on her, i think she deserves some recognizion”

gwen's blender necklace

Zoey's hamster (Miss Puffycheeks)

“It's cute and can punch a cat, need I say more?”

[tay-tay-everlark13]

YOU BELONG WITH ME

I stand by the window and watch him talking to his girlfriend. She's upset. She probably didn't understand the joke he told her and took it personally.

Again.

‘Cause she doesn’t get your humor like I do.

Taylor Swift's song plays in my headphones. Definitely not the type of music she would like. Too girly. Which is weird, because of the two of us, she's the one who acts girlish while I'm the complete opposite.

So here I am - Katniss Everdeen in love with her best friend Peeta Mellark, who is dating the beautiful Julia Collins.

I sigh and rest my chin on the windowsill when I hear the sound of the new message.

Let's go out somewhere. Please.

15:36

I smile to myself and look out the window to see him with his phone in his hand.

kpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkp

We are walking down the road to the park. Peeta is wearing his worn-out jeans, in which he looks so handsome. But I cannot stop thinking this is how it has to be.

Peeta and me. And no one else.

And I'm just more sure about this when I finally see his beautiful and shine smile, but then he gets massage and everything is gone.

"Are you alright?," I ask.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm good," he answers, but I don't believe him.

Hey, what you doing with a girl like that?

And for the next time I'm compering myself with her. She wars short skirts and high heels, while I'm wearing normal T-shirts and sneakers. She's cheer captain and I'm on the bleachers.

And what makes me more sad and my eyes are starting getting tearly. I'm dreaming of the day when he wakes up and find that what's he's looking for has been here the whole time and she has him now. Maybe forever.

And that makes me lie to Peeta and go back to home. Of course with him, because she would never let me go back to home alone when I'm not feeling well. Actually he never lets me go back home alone.

kpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpkpk

I'm half asleep when I hear something knocking to my window. I open my eyes and see him. I'm shocked but I open the window and let him go inside.

"What the hell are you doing, Peeta?!," I yell at him but not so loud, so I won't wake up Prim or mom.

"I have to talk with you," he says.

I'm about yelling at him even more, but then I see his eyes filled with tears and my heart is broken.

"What happened, Peeta?," I ask and get him to hug me, and he wraps his arms around my waist tightly and clings to my shoulder, so I can easily run my fingers through his soft hair soothingly.

"I'm no longer with Julia," he answers and I want to cry and celebrate at the same time.

But then I'm angry.

"She broke up with you?," I scream loudly, not caring that it's late at night.

Peeta pulls away from me, surprised by my outburst, and strokes my arms soothingly to relax me. He's touch distracts me and leaves behind hot marks that burn me and make me focus only on his rough, strong hands.

"Actually, I did it."

This shocks me even more.

"I broke up with her, Katniss."

"Why?," I manage to choke out.

He doesn't answer right away, so I suggest he sit down and cool down while I make him some tea.

As I go downstairs, I thank heaven that my scream didn't wake anyone else but this old cat that I've had to cook for years

Good for you, I think.

I prepare two cups of warm drink for me and Peeta and go back upstairs to join him.

"Here," I give him the dish and he puts it on the windowsill next to my bed.

"Okay, you don't want to drink," I mutter to myself, "So you wanted to talk about something." I remind him his words.

He looks up at me and slowly gets out of bed, walking towards me. He took the cup from my hands and set it next to his, then took my hands in his.

"I broke up with Julia," he finally says, looking into my eyes and rubbing my knuckles.

"I know," I can't say more.

"But it's not everything," he says mysterious. Then he does something I don't expect.

He kisses me. First, he gently takes my face in his hands and lightly presses his lips to mine. However, when he feels me kissing him back, he starts kissing me harder and more greedily. He licks my lips, asking for entrance, which I mindlessly allow. His hand goes from my cheek to my waist, circling it possessively as he presses me against him, and I can't help but think that I like what he's doing to me and how he makes me feel.

Because I feel wonderful. A flock of butterflies fly out in my stomach and I feel like it's my first kiss. Because it's true - it's the first kiss that really matters to me and while I really feel something.

When he breaks away from me, we are both panting, our lips red and swollen from the long and intense kissing. We're both blushing and I don't know what to say.

So Peeta starts. He was always wonderful with words.

"I did it for you," he says low. And this voice makes me weak on my knees.

God, I'm so weak because of Peeta fucking Mellark, I think. Only for him.

And then I actually realize what he just said.

"What?," I ask stupidly.

"I said I broke up with Julia for you."

"No, no, I understand but...," I say and look at him. "Why?"

I don't and can't understand how he could do it for me. I mean, brake up with Julia. He adored her so much. He had a crush on her for ever. Well, he never said that he loved her, but I guess it's hard to fall in love in a few months.

"God, Katniss, don't you see that?," he asks and stares at me waiting for me to say anything.

But I don't understand what he wants me to say. I don't understand what he's saying.

"It's you, not her, that I want," he says, caressing my cheeks with his hand, which makes me even more confused. "Okay, listen to me, Katniss. I remember driving to your house in the middle of the night when I'm sad or happy or anything. I remember you making me laugh, when I know I'm about to cry. You're the one who care about that simple things like my favorite song, my dreams," he stops for a moment and look down on his shoes, but his hand is still on my cheek, and the other is on my wrist.

When his eyes come back to mine I see more fear in them. And I'm sure about that I have to know what he was about to say, so I do the only thing I've got stuck in my mind right now.

I kiss him. I grab his face and press his lips to mine, just like he did before. His hand tightens around my waist and his other hand goes from my cheek to my hair, which I left loose for sleeping. He tangles his hand in my curls and I let out a soft sigh in response.

When we pull away, we're flusher than before, and there's a huge smile on his face. It takes me a moment to realize that I, too, am smiling so hard that my cheekbones start to hurt.

"I did it just to know what you wanted to say," I'm trying to look like I don't care, but I'm blushing with a big smile on my face, so he just laughs.

"What I was trying to say was that I think I know where I belong," he pauses and look me straight in the eyes, "I think you know it's with you, baby."

And then we spend all night long kissing and touching ourselves on my bed.

[mr-nauseam]

Practice 21

Tw: Hallucinations

.

There is a voice. Singing a sweet, comforting melody. The song can barely reach him, but he remembers a feeling he believed he had forgotten, the feeling of being loved. To be loved by his mom. He concludes that it must be her who he can feel passing a hand caressing though his curls, and who put a damp cloth on his forehead so tenderly.

No one but her would do that for him.

Coriolanus can barely open his eyes, but he tries because if she is there, it means he can see again those big brown eyes that reflect concern and longing. The one he had missed so bad. He needs to see them to know that this is real. That Julia Snow in reality didn't leave him alone in this world. That the only thing she left is not a simple compact. His eyelids feel heavy but it's worth fighting to open them.

His vision at first is blurred, however, he sees that gaze clearly, Coriolanus’s heart races and there is a warm smile greeting him as well. 

“Coryo.” She calls out to him. 

“I didn't want to wake you up, I'm sorry Coryo" says in a whisper while her soft hand caresses his face, "How are you feeling?”

Her voice sounds like a meaningless echo. Maybe he should try to concentrate on understanding her words but he's more focused on feeling the way her fingers touch his cheek, treasuring the fact that she is really here, again giving him her undivided attention as she used to do before death took her away.

What beautiful days of glory in which she was his and no one else's. Not even from his father. Sweet old days where there was always a mother and her son together in a lonely room, the world seems to make sense then. Coriolanus did not utter a word, too ill to do it. Anyway, he doesn't need to speak to make his mother understand what he wants, and right now he just wants to make this moment eternal, even so, his lack of response makes his mother look sad.

Her ladness looked like a worried frown, and a bitten lip. The imagen seems familiar to him, because Julia Snow always used to look sad and Coriolanus never understood why.

Why did she always seem on the verge of tears? Why did she act as if she was scared of his father? Why was she not happy? If in theory she had it all. The dream life that every woman should envy. His mother was married to the great General Crassus Snow and she gave birth to the perfect son, but she was too weak and fragile to live her life.

Coriolanus knew it by the way his mother used to hug him tightly, as if she was trying not to break in his little arms. She always gave him those hugs full of desperation and anguish, the same hugs that made him feel loved because it seemed that only Julia needed him, her dear son, to be able to breathe.

No one has been able to love him in this way since she became a cold corpse, unable to wrap her arms around him. Coriolanus could not feel complete since she finally surrendered in her lonely, incomprehensible, irrational battle against sadness.

He often wondered what had killed her, and only now did the answer seem clear to him. It was that damned sadness. The one that prevented her from playing with him, the one that made her eyes look empty and the one that made the songs she sang to him bitter, what killed her in the end.

“Coryo, what are you seeing? Coryo, can you hear me? Coryo, please answer…”

If her mother is back, she can't be sad, or scared, or sunk in anxiety, as she is now, saying more meaningless words with her brow furrowed. She can only exist for Coriolanus. She must exist only for him. Sadness cannot claim her.

Sadness cannot kill her again, he must do something.

Coriolanus tries to get up, with his limbs shaking and his head hammering with pain. He needs to reach for her, wrap her in his arms and hold her tingly to make sure she won't leave him alone ever again.

“Coryo, please, please, please. You must lie down again.” She begged over and over, placing a hand on his chest to make him pull back into the pillow.

Coriolanus frowns hurt, not understanding why she rejects him. He simply wanted to give her a hug. It wasn't a big deal unless... A cruel idea settles in his head, one that makes perfect sense. He must have contemplated it from the moment he saw her here in the land of the living,

He feels stupid then for not having thought of it before, for worrying that something else would take her in the first place.  Slurring his words he utters the accusation that breaks his heart:

“You're going away aren't you?”

“What?” She blinks in confusion. Big brown eyes that lie. 

“You are going to leave me again!” It is not a scream, his throat cannot scream. It is pure fury and sadness that make his lips tremble, that shed tears from Coriolanus’s blue eyes.  

She seems to have no words. She does not give consolations, no denials to debate his word, that's how Coriolanus knows he has discovered the truth and he hates her. He sobs, against his best judgment. Overwhelmed by an irrational feeling inside him that wants to flee somewhere far away from her cruel deceptions but his fever-ridden body prevents him from doing so.

He just falls pathetically against the mattress. Coriolanus cannot help but reproach himself for believing in the same woman who abandoned him, the same woman who did not fight to keep her own pulse beating, and the same woman that let the destruction of the districts take her (his kindness) away.

When his hopes die, she embraces him.

His mom holds him as he falls to pieces. It's unfair but he clings to her, because deep down he didn't want to lose her, didn't want her to leave and whispers what no one else in the world should know: 

"Don't leave me, please. I don't want to be alone."

"I'm not going anywhere. Don't worry, Coryo.

And there is some hesitation before she makes the promise:

“I won't leave you."

But she promises, so Coriolanus doesn't mind, for some silly reason he still can believe in her. He holds her tight so that she won't run away, so that she knows how much he needs her, so that maybe she knows he loves her. He was never sure if she knew. 

Before sleep takes his conscience a single word comes out of his mouth:

“Mom.”

And Sejanus understood that no one of those words were meant for him.

[callmearcturus]

Gods damnit, Arc, I did _not_ need to be yeeted back into MI fandom!

But since you're doing it anyway ( :D ), care to ramble on Ethan's complicated relationship between sex between friends, sex in a relationship, and sex on a mission?

I don't know if I can delineate that much but it does dovetail into my reading of Ethan as ace. Because wow the self recognizes the self, that boy has intense vibes. Sex neutral ace is my read from him.

I'm finally watching MI1 tomorrow with some friends, but I've seen a lot of scenes from it and the vibe I get from Ethan is very unethical slut boy who then goes through a massively traumatic event that almost permanently damages the mechanism that lets him trust and rely on other people.

When we reach the McQuarrie Trilogy and catch up with Ethan, there's a lot of interesting stuff with gender and sex going on. Notably, in GP, Ethan does not get a love interest at all and while he's a joy to watch and the camera loves to frame him in compelling ways, it's not really sexy at all. We spend a lot of the movie thinking he got left by Julia, then we find out she's dead, then we learn she's alive and they still love each other but can't be together.

All of that is super compelling to me. In Hollywood Action Movies, I find the lack of sexual tension and love interest to be refreshingly weird. I'm trying to think of another action hero who gets treated like Ethan does, and the only thing that kind of came to mind was Cobb from Inception, but even then there's shipteasing with Arthur and Ariadne (and also Nolan's gender politic is a treacherous wasteland, so bad example anyway).

In Rogue Nation, the trend continues and honestly gets even more odd to me. Because on paper, Ilsa should be Ethan's love interest and there's small moments like escaping the opera and the body search int he car, but both of them are outliers. Hell, when they meet, Ethan COMPLIMENTS HER SHOES which is. About the least heterosexual thing ever.

Ilsa is extremely important to Ethan and I think he loves her, but after the big climax, their huge moment of intimacy is a hug. Which makes me go wild, it's so interesting that there's not even a goodbye kiss.

Pairing that with how Ethan treats Benji in RN and how structurally he's the love interest-- BUT EVEN THEN Ethan is so fucking careful and guarded with how he touches people. I keep thinking about Ilsa in Morocco, coming out of the pool and how its potentially a Bond Girl Moment but the camera doesn't linger on her much and Ethan keeps his eyes on her face. There's no leering, there's not even checking her out. IT'S JARRING. I LOVE IT.

And then in Fallout, there's the White Widow thing, which makes me want to scream. That moment when the White Widow kisses Ethan out of the blue and Ethan is fucking stone-faced, like the ace vibes are wild.

It's not just that he doesn't react so oooh he must be one of My People, but there's also how Fallout makes you feel Ethan's age. Ethan spends 90% of Fallout looking tired and sad, and it's almost like... on some level he's not even willing to put on the show anymore. He's not going to crank up the charisma and woo people to do what he wants, he can't be fucking bothered, and I feel the gravity of him so acutely every time I watch it. The only time he really has that big lovely smile is when he's talking to Benji and Luther in the beginning, which makes it a genuine charisma, a genuine urge to relax and grin and share a moment with people he loves.

But as soon as the job says he should maybe seduce the White Widow bc she's clearly into him, he's just. Not there for it.

Anyway the ace vibes are off the charts. Does Ethan Hunt fuck? Possibly, but it has to be with someone he trusts and they're probably going to have to be the one to suggest it. If you invite him to Netflix and Chill, he's going to be in the kitchen heating up popcorn kernels in a cast iron because you gotta have popcorn for movies. Then you say "actually how about sex" and there's a two second lag as he processes that and goes "Oh yeah sure that sounds like it could be fun too."

Ace as fuck.

[alphabetboyluvr]

bad decisions - jjk | seven

He reciprocates a similar countenance, his lip ring flipping up ever so gently as he does it. There's something sweet about it, and it always makes you feel a little warm, normally. You can't bring yourself to be endeared by it right now. He walks to meet you—just a few steps across the ground floor parking lot—and wraps his arms around your shoulders. Doesn't let the hug linger for too long. Isn't entirely certain it won't make you cry. "You're missing your disco, Byeol," Jungkook tenderly says as he looks down at you, taking note of the fact you're without your signature makeup. He's so close he can count your lashes, and not a single one has a trace of glitter. You ignore the connotations of how he replaces 'ball' with 'byeol'. You're not sure how deliberate it is.

Bad Decision #7 - Sex With An Ex

warnings: sad girl hours!! backstory!! wahoo!! reader gets a nickname (byeol (means star in korean)). enter stage left: KIM SEOKJIN. no smut but references back to things said mid-shag. first mention of jk's lip ring flipping (i think (first of MANY)). very emotionally hurt reader :(

soundtrack: don't know how to keep loving you - julia jacklin; 3:00 am - finding hope; blender - 5sos

wc: 6k

bd total wc: 370k (on-going)

minors dni | wattpad | series masterlist |

A frigid early morning breeze dances around Jungkook's bare legs. The hairs stand on end, in protest of the fact he's elected to wait downstairs by the entrance of his apartment.

He knows you're in a taxi—had sent you his address, and had been sent a message back a few moments later saying 'omw', but he isn't sure if you remember which floor he's on, nor which apartment is his. 

It's almost as if he didn't put a decal sticker that resembles Iron Man's Arc Reactor on their doorbell. Jimin is yet to notice it.

You had giggled, still tipsy, when you'd spotted it on the night that Jimin had taken you back to their place, but can barely remember it, now.

And so, Jungkook waits for you in the cold, hands bunched into the pockets of his shorts, a white shirt hanging off his broad shoulders, which are slightly hunched over. He's trying to preserve heat. Wishes he was wearing socks. Will blame you if he gets sick.

Yet when your taxi rolls up—and he's squinting from the headlights, eyes a little puffy from his lack of sleep—he knows that you're not in the mood to be blamed for anything. There seems like there's a weight on your shoulders as you thank your driver, making sure the door is shut before turning to face Jungkook.

Posture sloped, you don't carry yourself like you usually do. Normally spritely, you seem quite the opposite now.

Your lips are thin as you smile.

He reciprocates a similar countenance, his lip ring flipping up ever so gently as he does it. There's something sweet about it, and it always makes you feel a little warm, normally. You can't bring yourself to be endeared by it right now.

He walks to meet you—just a few steps across the ground floor parking lot—and wraps his arms around your shoulders. Doesn't let the hug linger for too long. Isn't entirely certain it won't make you cry.

"You're missing your disco, Byeol," Jungkook says tenderly as he looks down at you, taking note of the fact you're without your signature makeup. He's so close he can count your lashes, and not a single one has a trace of glitter. You ignore the connotations of how he replaces ball with byeol. You're not sure how deliberate it is.

A familiar heat tickles at your lash line. With a sigh, you shrug. Look down at Jungkook's hands, which are picking loose hairs from your shirt.

They're so acquainted with you now that you notice a graze on his finger that wasn't there the last time you'd hung out. Wonder how he got it. Hope he's okay, and that it didn't hurt. It's just a scrape from an awkward bottle cap. Nothing to worry about.

When your eyes finally meet his, you're surprised by how brutal his stare is. Eyes dark, there are no stars in them. His sharp jaw seems particularly tense, nose pointed and dewy beneath the moonlight. Behind him, the lobby light cuts out.

He swallows, dropping his hands from your shirt as his body turns to set the motion detector off again.

"Can we go inside?" you ask, quiet as a mouse.

Jungkook doesn't understand why you're being so timid with him. He's not a fucking cat. You aren't his prey.

He just nods, though. "Of course."

The shrill beep of his entry way doorcode being punched in makes you feel like heaving. Everything is a little too much - which is why, when Jungkook presses the button for the elevator, you ask if you can take the stairs instead.

"Sure," he says, a little taken aback. He normally takes the stairs himself, but thought you wouldn't want to walk up twelve flights of stairs. "We're pretty high up."

"S'fine," you say as you head towards the staircase. It's dimly lit, motion sensor lights flickering alight as you approach them. "Need the walk."

He chooses not to engage in conversation. Your words feel coded, and he isn't sure he's able to decipher them. Doesn't wanna risk saying the wrong thing when you're in a mood that feels so unfamiliar to him.

He's seen grouchy. Seen you unhappy. This isn't like that.

This is something different entirely.

He doesn't speak until you're on the staircase that exits on his floor, but his tone is gentle. "This one."

You nod, as if you knew.

Truth is you didn't. In fact, you kind of wish he'd just let you walk up to the roof. It'd be impossible to see the stars this close to the heart of the city, but at least you could pretend that the planes were cosmic calamities; shooting stars to make new wishes upon.

The lead is taken by Jungkook until you reach his apartment.

He tells you Jimin is asleep, but that his room is at the opposite end of the apartment, so you can talk in there. He takes your silence as agreement, and holds the door open for you.

Shoes off by the entrance, he rests his palm on the top of your back to guide you through the dark apartment. It's how you remember it, the only difference is that Jungkook's wearing a shirt this time.

When you reach his bedroom door, he pauses.

"If you say one mean thing about my sculpture collection, I'm throwing you out the window," he whispers, which does admittedly make a laugh stammer in your chest.

Makes you curious, too.

Hadn't envisaged him as a fine art type of guy.

He'd look good in your cafe, you think, in the corner with the clay, dried grey specs on his honey skin. You'd give him the olive-coloured apron, if he ever visited, because you think it'd suit him. Would watch with a lazy grin from the counter as he got to work on his project. Would sit with him during his breaks and colour in his tattoos with posca pens. Would be nice, you think.

But those thoughts are washed away like heat in a summer rain when his door opens and you see what he really means.

You don't mean it to be, but the laugh you let out is so fucking obnoxious. Jungkooks hands go to shush you, one on the back of your head, the other over your mouth - but he's giggling, too.

"I told you not to be mean!"

You can feel him grin against your hair, keeping close so that he can keep his voice down. He doubts Jimin will stir, but it's worth it to hear your happiness. Jungkook loosens his grip on you, turning back to click his door shut, and lets you meander over to his collection of-

"These are action figures, Kook."

"They're sculptures."

"Toys."

"Collectibles."

"Collectible toys."

He purses his lips as you turn around to look at him. His arms are folded, nose a little scrunched, desperately not wanting to admit defeat.

"Look, they're really fucking expensive!"

And then you're laughing again, at how bloody ridiculous he is.

It somehow comes as no surprise that Jungkook would have comic book figurines in perspex boxes, neatly stacked like a museum exhibition in the corner of his bedroom - just like it makes perfect sense that there's a chess set next to a computer that looks like it's worth your monthly salary.

"Can I"— You cut yourself off as you gesture around the room.

"Go for it," Jungkook says as he takes a seat on his bed, letting you wonder freely, taking in all that he is. He thinks you need a distraction, and he's to provide that. Knows you'd do the same if roles were reversed. In fact, it gets him wondering what your bedroom is like. He'll consider the what-ifs later. Too busy watching you, now.

A reed diffuser sits atop a pile of unread books on his bedside table - ones he swears to Namjoon that he'll read, but never seems to get around to doing so. The scent is black cherry, but there's another on the far side of the room which is fresh cotton. Nothing is ever entirely straightforward with him, but it's kind of why you like his company.

"This one is good," you muse, tapping the spine of one of your favourites—Cho Nam-Joo's Kim Ji-Young, Born 1982. You've the same book on your shelf at home. There are a few you don't recognise, so make a note to ask him about those another time.

His bed is made, but it's just as ruffled as his dark hair, which sticks out a little on end. You meet his eyes as you scan the room, and find that there's a small smile on his lips. You reciprocate it, hoping it's enough to distract him from the fact you're not quite yourself.

"Wanna sit?" he asks, knocking his head to the space beside him.

You don't think you do. You don't want to really be close to another person, not physically.

Something about him makes it hard to refuse such an offer, though. You find yourself nodding, even when you don't mean to.

He shuffles a little further up his bed, falling down onto his back to stare at his ceiling again. His legs hang off the side of his bed, hands intertwined across his chest.

You follow suit. Legs up, knees bent, feet by your ass, you copy his hands as you stare at his ceiling, too. Above you, his origami birds flutter gently in the aircon breeze.

"You make them?"

"Mhmm."

"They're pretty."

"Pretty lame," he snorts, very much aware that it's not the coolest thing to have in your bedroom as a twenty-five-year-old man, almost forgetting his glorified doll collection.

His sheets are soft, but there's still a slight crinkle as he turns his head to look at you. Though you feel his gaze, you don't look back.

"No disco balls tonight?"

The question is expressed so tenderly that you can't help but swallow back the flounder in your diaphragm. Your head slowly shakes, but you're still looking up at the birds. Part of you hates that he associates you so damn closely with that fucking glitter. Part of you quite likes it, too. Makes you feel seen. Makes you feel vulnerable.

"Why not?" He asks.

"Just 'cause," you whisper, not intending on giving an answer of substance - but you're upset, and it's a topic of contention that has been eating away at you for so long now that you can't help yourself from biting a little bit. "Sometimes it's just not very mature."

Jungkook snorts. "You're talking to the guy with a figurine collection."

And then you're smiling, because his self-awareness is not only refreshing but incredibly endearing. He doesn't take himself seriously, and it's why you like his company. One of the reasons, at least.

But then you're thinking about how nice it is to laugh with someone for the simplicity of feeling a shared happiness, and you can't help but let the truth slip out.

"I used to date a guy," your voice lingers on your words, before you sigh and continue. "And he was so cool, yanno? So smart, and mature"—

The emphasis on the word, and the fact you're repeating it, tells Jungkook all he needs to know about exactly what's happened tonight. Not once have you ever cared for looking older than you are, content with having fun thanks to the freedom of your twenties. In the time that he's known you, the topic of maturity has only ever been mentioned when you berate each other for being stupid.

Your compulsion to seem mature now is telling. He knows where you've been. Who you've been with, even if he doesn't know exactly who he is.

—"And he was just... You know people who have shit figured out? He's like that. He's older. Wiser." You pause, but Jungkook lets you keep talking. His eyes are on the ceiling now, too. "Anyways, glitter annoys him. Gets on his clothes and then apparently it's a bitch to get out but I'm so used to it that I never notice it"—

"It's not a bitch to get out."

—"And like, he's just, mature, yanno?"

"Yeah, you said that."

"So," you shrug your shoulders into the mattress. "He doesn't like glitter."

There's silence as Jungkook thinks about what the fuck he's supposed to say to that.

In his eyes, you are glitter. Called you Byeol earlier 'cause you remind him of fucking stars. Feels a bit stupid for it now, but he's hoping you misheard.

He has to bite on his cheeks to stop himself from saying some scathing remark. 'So he doesn't like you, then?' reverberates in his head. It's harsh, he knows, but he wants to say it because he wants you to realise how terrible it is to change yourself for someone like that. And for what? It obviously didn't go well if you've ended up here.

But you are here. And he knows he's right—things can't have gone well. You're probably already feeling like shit, and who is he to make you feel even worse?

He can't be putting you through the wringer like that, but he's perplexed at the idea of you being so invested in someone who is quite clearly unbelievably wrong for you.

He's been in your position before.

Knows that him being a prick will only cause more damage.

And so he's kind, instead.

"I think it suits you," he says. "The glitter, I mean. You look fine without it, but it does really suit you."

You lean your head to the side, trying to get a read on his face. He just keeps on looking at the birds.

There's a harshness to the shadows on his face, painting him in greys. You don't realise it, but you're just the same—shrouded in the darkness of the night. His bedroom curtains are open, but the city lights aren't that bright at this time in the morning. Without the glitter to catch in what little light there is, your spark is dulled.

"You're just not used to seeing me without it," you smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes.

He lets his head fall to the side, mirroring you. Strands of hair fall over his forehead, obscuring his eyes, tickling at his lashes. You reach over and knock a couple out of the way, trying to disregard the weight of his gaze. Deciding it's impossible, you look back up to the ceiling.

"You saw him tonight?" Jungkook asks.

All you do is nod, because you're pretty sure you'll cry if you try and speak. The way your lips press together, brows tight above your pitiful eyes is painful to watch. You take a second. Take a breath. Wait for the next question.

"You slept with him?"

Jungkook feels bad for the leap in questions, but he knows he's getting nods or shakes, and he wants to get to the route of why the fuck you're ending your night in his room instead of with the guy you've been hung up on for months. Doesn't know his name. Doesn't care to know it. Thinks he's a prick.

A wallowing sadness sits in his chest when you nod your head, not for himself, but for you. He's never seen you like this. Never knew someone could have so much power over you. Headstrong is all he's ever known you to be, but he's feeling like one of the King's men trying to put bloody Humpty Dumpty back together again.

You swallow back the sob that's causing a commotion in your oesophagus, as if the movement doesn't remind you of his hand on your throat.

God, you wish you could just stop thinking about him.

You think it would have hurt less if he'd have taken a knife to it.

Instead, his hands had been so warm, and gentle, that you thought it meant he was trying to reclaim the space that used to hold a necklace with his initial.

Jungkook doesn't want to ask the next question, but knows that as your friend—as a duty of care—he has to.

"Did he..." Jungkook pauses, unsure of how to phrase in a delicate way.

"No," you finally, say, because you know where it's going. "He didn't hurt me."

"You've been crying," Jungkook objects.

"Didn't hurt me like that."

He nods, accepting your response. Still has no idea what to fucking say, but he never does around you. S'why he always takes a moment extra or so. Brain just doesn't work when you're around.

"You wanna talk about it?"

To talk means to cry, and you don't really wanna do that. You glance over to him, and watch the way he's nibbling on his bottom lip, toying with his ring. Eyes still on the ceiling, Jungkook pretends not to notice. You're both good at that. Pretending.

The silver of his jewellery—his piercings, his thick bracelets, the chain around his neck—just reminds you of the earrings that you're wearing.

They're dainty. Pretty little hoops. Intricate leaves trail around the smooth shape, tiny sparkling stones catching in the light. You'd worn them deliberately. Had hoped he'd notice.

Not Jungkook. You couldn't really care less for what he did or didn't notice about you.

You'd worn them for Seokjin.

Had been wearing them since he messaged you midweek - I'm in town at the weekend. Will you be around? - and now you kind of want to rip them out.

You'd hoped he would remember the trip you took together to Gyeongju. Your third time visiting the city together; just before autumn was about to settle into the earth, rusted leaves sinking to the ground, like the blossoms during the spring. The cyclic nature of the seasons used to make you smile. 

Just like he did, in the old Hanok where a silversmith crafted twisted hoops in front of your very eyes. He told you he'd buy you the entire store when he finally became a big shot. Settled for a tiny pair of silver hoops, instead.

They're the ones you're wearing now. The ones you hoped he would notice.

But he didn't notice. Not tonight. Not once. Not even when his lips were on your lobes, nor when his hands were on your body, his voice quiet in your ear as he'd told you tall tales about how much he'd missed you.

His voice had been so soothing at the time—"Still take me so well, darling"— like aloe on sunburn—"Like that. Fuck, darlin', like that"—but you realise now he was just covering you in deep heat. "Uh—shit. You always been this tight? Fuck. You're gonna make me cum so fucking hard."

Only a matter of time until he was scalding your skin all over again. "Shit." Scorching. "I'm there." Tarnishing. "Take it all for me, take it—ugh. Yeah, that's it." Destroying. "Fuck."

And oh, what a scar Kim Seokjin leaves on your skin.

His handprints are warped all over your body. You're red in the wake of his touch, sandpaper palms scrubbing away at the efforts you've made to heal yourself in the past few months. Your cracks are showing again, and you're not wearing any glitter to fill the gaps.

You're broken, and it shows.

You swallow a little harshly, tongue licking your dry lips before biting down on them. Lashline warming again, you simply shrug. His duvet rustles beneath you. "Not much to talk about."

"We both know you wouldn't be here if that was true."

"But it is," you say with a fragile laugh. "He came over, and then"— Your voice cracks. "And then he left."

Should have seen it coming, really. You reap what you sow.

Jungkook knows you never stay. Learnt it pretty quickly. Didn't ask too many questions about it. Never occurred to him that maybe you'd ever want someone else to stay, instead.

"I... ," you mumble as you try and think of the right words to say. Your cheeks are a little damp, and you know that Jungkook knows you're crying, even if he isn't looking at you, but what's the point in pretending anymore? "I really thought that it wasn't me, yanno? I thought other people were the issue."

One of the birds he's watching catches on the wings of its neighbour, awkwardly straggling before falling back into position. Jungkook thinks he should cut them all down.

"What do you mean?"

"The whole..."

When you pause, Jungkook looks over to you. Your face is a little scrunched up, feeling awkward about such an admission. It makes him laugh how you can appear so pitiful and yet still so classically you. You laugh too, stuttering on your breath, using the back of your palm to dust away some of your tears.

"The whole intimacy thing," you finally continue with a small smile, because if you don't laugh, you will cry. "I thought that other people were the issue; that they didn't compel me to stay. I never once thought that it was me. That I was the issue—but I can't even fucking compel the guy I thought I'd marry one day to stay. It's me. I'm the fucking problem."

You're smiling as you finish talking, but it fades quickly. Withers like the flowers Seokjin had bought you on the evening he'd broken up with you. There's still one pressed between the pages in your journal. Petals plucked. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves me, he loves me not. He loves-

"You're not a problem," Jungkook says, eyes hard as they look to his ceiling. His hands are still linked over his stomach, but he's resisting the urge to pace the room. He needs to wrap his head around what you're saying, but can't do it when he's sitting still. Needs to walk in a circle to try and find where the fuck it starts. Doesn't make sense to him how you're blaming yourself for your ex not staying. He chooses not to speak about him, instead trying to help you make sense of why you leave. "You don't stay at the end of your hook-ups 'cause a purpose is served. It's like how you don't stay in a restaurant after you eat your dinner."

"But you do," you say, as you cross your legs and clamber to a seated position. Jungkook remains in place, and you notice just how perplexed he seems. "You have your dinner, maybe even dessert, and then what? You talk. Enjoy other's company."

He sits now, too. "Okay, maybe it was the wrong analogy-"

"It's not. It's entirely correct. Kook, I"— You sigh, shoulders lifting to your ears and falling again. Exasperation pollutes your features.

You've given the topic a lot of thought, but never shared your conclusions. It's all a bit daunting.

"You...?" He encourages.

"I never stay, because I never want to give anyone the same power that he had over me. Never want anything more than casual sex, cause it can't hurt me." Your voice is bereft, a small pitiful laugh punctuating your words. "How fucking sad is that?"

You're speaking so quietly that all Jungkook can do is listen as your words slip into in ears and get all jumbled about inside his head. He needs time to reorganise them; to understand what you actually mean.

"I have so many rules and restrictions that it's barely even sex these days, more... a transaction? And yet when Jin messaged me, I fucking folded. Yes sir, no sir. I..." You trail off, but Jungkook doesn't push for more.

Just waits till you're ready—and when you are, you speak at such a speed it's almost hard to understand a single thing you're saying.

"I let him fuck me like he still loves me. Do you have any idea what that does to a person? How much it can fuck with their head? I broke down all of my walls, because he used to make me feel so safe and for some reason, I told myself it would be okay—but then you messaged and—fuck."

You look down at your thumbs and shrug, a deep sigh exhaling from your very soul, as if your bones are creaking beneath your skin.

"When you messaged, I woke up and he wasn't fucking there. He'd left. Treated me like how I treat my transactional shags. And I mean, maybe it's my own fault, maybe I deserved it, but fuck. I let him kiss me. I let him... I let him fuck me like he meant it, and then he left as if I meant nothing to him."

By the time you finish venting, Jungkook looks so bewildered that he actually seems scared. You look back down to where your thumbs are twiddling, shameful of your own emotions. A pitter-patter of tears hit his duvet, and you just let them. You're not crying. Not sobbing, at least. Just tearful. Bamboozled by your own feelings.

Jungkook's at a loss for what the fuck he's supposed to do.

He's never been the kind to comfort his friends. Isn't really sure how the fuck he's supposed to comfort you. He's no stranger to crying girlfriends—he's had a few of those—but this isn't like that. He can't just kiss it better, not that he'd want to. Be like kissing Jimin at this point, he tells himself.

And either way, it's so unbelievably inappropriate to even think of something like that when you're literally in front of him in tears over another bloke. His mind is just wondering because he's panicking, but oh god, you're crying still and how the fuck do you have so much liquid in your face? Surely you'll wither up? He's not sure he's ever seen a pair of cheeks so wet.

But then you shrug, and sniff back the tears. Purse your lips. Press them together so tight you can't make a sound. And then you look at him and say, "I'm sorry. This is, like, so much. I didn't mean to be such a big fucking cry baby I just-"

"Hey, no," he protests, face contorted with a little disgust. He can't believe you're apologising for this.

Jungkook's no stranger to a complex. He's got one wrapped around his pretty pink brain like a metal chain, padlocked where his desire to take chances should be. The fear of rejection outweighs any possible good that could come from going after the things he wants—and as he watches the way your smile quivers before it falls into a quiet sob, he knows exactly what his fear is trying to save himself from.

And so he just gently smiles, and says, "It really fucking sucks when the people we love don't love us back."

You nod. "Fucking sucks."

He's only known you for a couple of months. Doesn't know who you were before your ex; only the after. But he quite likes who you are now. Thinks that whatever the fuck that prick put you through is undeserved. Is actually quite angry that he'd fuck you over like that.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, as you dab your face with sweater paws, trying to get rid of the remains of your tears.

He hates that you're apologising again, but he lets you. Knows you'll just say sorry again if he tells you to stop.

"I just didn't wanna be in my room, yanno?" A sob tries to escape, but you catch it just in time. Attagirl. "Fucking smells like him. I'd forgotten about his aftershave"—This is a lie.—"And now I can't get it out of my fucking nose."

Jungkook grins, and tries a little banter. "Probably a good thing if it masks the way you smell."

"Fuck off," you smile back at him, biting down on your lip to stop it from shaking. "Now's not the time."

And yet you're so glad he's still being normal with you. Not so glad for his next question, but glad for the perspective he's trying to give to the situation.

"Did you at least... yanno?"

Your eyes roll so far back that you can basically see your frontal lobe. Jungkook is a little horrified by the fact your entire eyeball is bloodshot, and doesn't hide his disgust very well. He tries. Just looks a little constipated when you refocus on him. Makes you laugh.

"Pretended," you admit a little awkwardly, and when Jungkook's jaw drops, you reach over to close it. "My god, shut up! I didn't want to make him feel bad. If I knew then what I know now"—

"That he's a cunt?"

—"Then maybe I wouldn't have."

You would have. You'd turn water into wine if Seokjin asked you to. Let him drink your blood if a drought pilfered his water supply. Would sacrifice everything to just give him a measly something.

You'll never admit to any of that, though.

Silence simmers between the pair of you. There's not much left to say.

"I'm sorry he left," Jungkook says, because you deserve an apology and knows you'll never get one from the person who owes it.

"Me too."

He reaches over and ruffles your hair, smiling in that way he does when his dimples form and his lip ring does a little dance. It curves upwards, smiling too.

"You wanna get a shower?" He offers. He's terrible at comforting people, granted, but he's good at thinking of solutions. "Everything here smells different to your apartment. You can get rid of whatever's haunting your nose with my incredibly manly strawberry shower gel."

You laugh, and Jungkook feels himself relax. Hadn't realised his back had been so tense as he twists his waist to click it. You let yourself fall onto your back again, and into his duvet. "God, how on earth do the girls resist you?"

"They can't. Get a shower, Byeol. I'll make up somewhere for you to sleep, alright?"

You don't question the way he calls you Byeol again. Just let him. Think it's nice, actually.

And like the girls that apparently can't resist him, you can't say no to his instructions.

He shows you to the bathroom, and when you whisper about being worried you'll wake Jimin, Jungkook shakes his head. "Sleeps like a log after a night out."

There's something incredibly kind about how he shows you which shower gels are his (because apparently he needs three in the shower at all times), and how to change the temperature (but leaves it on his favourite setting because he thinks you'll like it, too). He tells you to wait before you get in, because he's coming back with something - and when he does, you pout.

"So, this is like, my good towel. I don't keep it in here 'cause Jimin'll use it for god knows what, but it's really fluffy," he says, and then insists that you rub it against your cheek. He's not wrong. Might just be the fluffiest towel you've ever encountered. "Unreal, right? Like an actual cloud."

And then despite how gentle he's been, he reverts back to his typical self when he throws a shirt in your face. "For afterwards."

He shuts the door before you can say anything else in response. You just kind of stand there, his shirt looped over your shoulders, laughing softly to yourself, face furrowed in confusion. Jeon Jungkook might just be the strangest human you've ever met.

But you're also the girl who took a canvas painting of breadfish to his gym, just to get a laugh out of him, so maybe you're well-suited in that regard.

Their shower is far nicer than yours, the water pressure frankly wasted on two boys. Though you wouldn't trade your apartment with Danbi for the world, you considering making future five AM pity calls just for the luxury of a waterfall showerhead.

You use the strawberry shower gel, not because you like it any better than citrus fruits or fresh pine, but mainly because it's the one Jungkook first mentioned. It's sweet—almost as sweet as your own vanilla one—but still fresh enough to make you feel a little brand new. There's an ache in your heart as you wash your ex's touch from you, and you find yourself sniffing again—but you don't let yourself fall into that trap.

You've cried enough.

And so you wrap yourself in Jungkook's towel, close the lid of their toilet, and sit for a while. The clock reads twelve minutes past six. Guilt simmers in your chest, knowing that Jungkook didn't need to be dealing with you at such a ridiculous time in the morning—but when you reach his bedroom, knocking before you enter to find him organising a mountain of pillows on his floor, you can't help but feel thankful he's the person you reached out to.

It's kinda his fault for texting you at five in the morning and waking you up, but that's neither here nor there.

"Hey," he smiles as he turns to face you, and tries his hardest to avoid staring at your legs. Your hair is bundled up into his towel, and his shirt fits you like a dress, cutting off midway down your thighs. "Sorry, I just didn't know how many pillows you like? So I just got them all?"

"One is normally fine," you laugh, as you begin to tease your hair through the towel. "Thank you for this, by the way. Incredible towel."

"I told you so," he grins. "Curtains open or closed?"

"Closed?" You question, confused at how it's not an obvious answer - but you don't know that Jungkook sleeps with them open on Saturday nights to make it easier for him to wake for the gym in the morning.

"Sure you're gonna be comfortable on the floor?" He asks as he reaches over to close the curtains. "I really don't mind taking the floor."

"I'm sure," you nod. "Hardly looks like a floor anymore."

You've a point. He really did it overdo it - but he's not had a sleepover since he was about fourteen. Isn't really sure what the protocol is.

At least, not a sleepover like this.

Nor have you. No time for braiding each other's hair and gossiping about your favourite celebrities, though. You find yourself drifting off almost as soon as you curl up into Jungkook's expertly crafted pile of pillows. You don't realise, cause he doesn't tell you, but he's given you the pillows from his bed, too. They're a little more expensive, better for a good night's sleep.

He reaches to the end of the bed for his good towel. It's a little damp, but not too wet that it would cause any issues as he rolls it up and sticks it beneath his head. Isn't the first time he's used a towel for a pillow, and likely won't be the last. He just kind of thought you needed the comfort of expensive cushions more than he did.

"Sweet dreams, Byeol," he whispers, knowing you're out like a light, but wanting to wish you well regardless. You deserve that at the very least, he thinks.

Unlocking his phone, he cancels his gym alarm, and tosses his phone back down onto his mattress. His room is dark, but he can see the outline of your body, the curve of your hip and the dip of your waist as you adjust ever so slightly.

He's sure that when the morning comes, you'll be a bit embarrassed about it all, but for now, he settles into how comfortable it feels to have you around.

There's nothing intimate about the situation between the pair of you (which is probably why you don't mind staying over)—but when he hears you squeak a little in your sleep, pillows rustling as you move, he kind of gets it. Understands why you wouldn't trust just anyone with your most vulnerable state.

He's just the same; except his fears come in the form of rejection. He never makes it to the intimacy part, because he never deals with the stuff that needs to precede it.

And as he stares up at the shadows of his origami birds, a frown framing his pretty features, he decides you're both absolutely fucked.

minors dni | wattpad | series masterlist |

[short-black-diamond]

"You're one year too late."

This is a fic I've been thinking of after watching the latest episode of Marionetta, episode 32 this morning. For those who didn't read the Webtoon yet, here's spoilers.

Sahed x female reader, angst. Julia gets jealous, but regrets it.

Also I didn't proofread.

---

Sahed and Julia sat together in his room, which was lighted up very brightly by the lanterns. "Now, we'll just have to get to Rainah and then I'll go get ____!", Sahed said with a triumphant smile, but Julia couldn't help but notice Sahed's blush.

And it was also the first time she heard that name. ____. She grew curious.

After Sahed led Julia away from his room and sneeking away from the police/guards, they shortly after met Rainah and a bald dude with freckles who had to wear a headband. "Okay, now, we will summon ____ here and-" "Sahed, let's see if we can even get away from here.", Rainah interrupted, but Julia could hear some sort of undertone which said more.

Sahed ordered Julia to go get Tonny, and then he took something out liks a small paper, but with a spider's den and a drawn spider on it. "please...take the summon, ____...!"

Suddenly, a light blue smoke-cloud appeared, and then, a beautiful woman came to view. You. you wore a dress which accentuated your body perfectly, your makeup made your most prominent facial features glow, your hair framed your face, mayking you look like a drawn woman out of an expensive painting, and your eyes also held some sort of mystery to them.

Julia couldn't help but blush upon seeing you. You looked beautiful. But you also looked...older than her or Rainah...

And before she could say something, Sahed and Rainah crashed against you, embracing you tightly. "Gosh, how long has it been?!", Rainah whisper-yelled as she looked at your face, but she halted. "..._-____? What's wrong? We can finally stay in the circus together!", the green haired girl exclaimed excitedly, but you only offered a small smile in return. It was sad, tired, and...depressed.

Sahed held your hands in his. "____, is everything okay-", then he felt it. his eyes widened. He looked down on you, and his breath hitched.

Julia didn't know what happened, but from the way Sahed was hugging you and looking at you, she could've sworn that you two were-

...lovers.

You however, had tears streaming down your face as you slowly took a few steps back and retracted your hands from Sahed's, trying not to let your heart break even more when he chases after them with his own.

"I'm sorry...but you came one year too late, guys.", you said, holding your stomach, which had a small, but noticable bulge, with a smile that couldn't reach your eyes. "I...got into an arranged marriage. And I already have a daughter, and now, I'm pregnant again...I...I can't leave this behind, Sahed, Rainah."

Rainah covered her mouth, but she still congratulated you on giving birth and being pregnant again, albeit it came out in a hushed whisper. That's why you were like that. Julia regretted looking at you weirdly. You were Sahed's lover, and a close friend to Rainah, and you guys must've promised something to each other, which Sahed also voiced out in the next moment.

"...but- b-but how is that possible...?! I calculated every month, every day, every second, for us to meet! We've been speaking it over and over again! How could that happen?!", he said a little louder, staring at your tummy in shock. He couldn't believe that you got married, let alone were about to be a mother of not one, but two kids.

He could forget his dream of marrying you now, as somebody else did it.

Julia stared at you as well. Kamille fled from a marriage, gramps had to become a soldier in order to marry the person he loved, but you...you couldn't be together with Sahed. Not when your whole life was here. Not when you had your family sleeping soundly. Not when your life got planned ahead, and you not being able to have a say in it, ever.

"Sahed, it's okay. I'm just glad that we got to meet again. Now, I'll help you with the other Ah'kons-", you said with a determined face, but Sahed fell into your word. "You're not going anywhere, ____! Go home, I don't want you to get caught together with us!"

You frowned at him. "And why should that bother me?" Sahed only glared at you. "Well, since you decided to get married-"

"I didn't get to decide anything, Sahed.", you seethed, the happy-meet-again atmosphere gone in an instant. "Now, get back to the circus, I'll put one of my spells on you to make you leave along with the other Ah'kons."

Sahed only stood there, looking at you with pain in his three eyes.

"Are you...happy in that marriage?", he asked softly, not daring to touch you, even though he'd just want to heave you on his shoulder and take you with him. He thought that he could just raise your kids as his own, but when he looked from your stomach up to your face again, also that plan shattered.

"No. Now go, please.", you pleaded, and Sahed's eyes started to leave trails of heartbroken tears out.

Sahed looked at you hesitantly for a last time, but took Julia's and Rainah's and, Jathar following- no, being pulled by Rainah and they ran away. you looked after them with longing, sadness, and loneliness.

If only you could come with them..

you turned around, about to make your biggest magic spell ever:

Make the circus and the people in it dissappear into thin air.

It cost you your saddest tears, but luckily, you could cry freely, now that you let your dearest friend and lover go.

Again.

[disneyanddisneyships]

@gyubby99 this is gonna be sad.

Alastor x OC fic

Warnings: self harm, mentions of abuse, trauma, and r*pe. Read with caution please. Especially yu julia. This is gonna be triggering

Aponi stood in the bathroom, the mirror fogging up as the shower ran.

Another nightmare.

It felt so real...

Tears ran down her face silently before she sighed and took the small metal bathroom scissors from their place and she began hurting herself.

She winced at some if the pain as some blood made itself known from her thighs and wrists.

She threw the scissors into the sink and got into the shower, hissing at the water running down the fresh wounds.

Alastor woke up alone in Aponi's bedroom. He never fell asleep there usually, but he's been getting more relaxed ever since they started to try to be better people together.

They had spent the entire night talking and cuddling with one another, and along the way Alastor assumed he fell asleep.

But that still didn't account for the missing butterfly demon who was SUPPOSED to be sleeping next to him.

That's when he heard a small crash in the bathroom.

"Shit!" Aponi yelled.

Alastor walked into the bathroom to see his girlfriend, blood on her thighs and wrists bending down to pick up a sharp pair of scissors.

"Al?" Aponi asked as she stood back up before realizing she had blood on her thighs and wrists. "Its.. its nothing....." she trailed off.

"Darling.... why would you do that to yourself?" Alastor asked.

"Well it's not like it's the first time," Aponi chuckled as if to try to make a joke.

All alastor did was stare at her.

"Look its... I had a nightmare last night and I woke up just remembering things and i.... I wanted to feel something other than empty," Aponi explained.

"But darling... this?" Alastor stated with pleading eyes and a struggling smile as he grabbed her wrist, earning a wince from Aponi. He let her go. "Come on. Husk has a first aid kit in the kitchen," he stated before handing her, her robe and taking her downstairs.

"Hey guys, what's up?" Husk asked as the two walked downstairs.

"First aid kit, please, my friend!" Alastor exclaimed.

"Uh and a coffee?" Aponi asked.

"Comin right up," husk replied before heading into the kitchen.

Alastor and Aponi sat at the bar as Husk returned with the first aid.

He went into the bar to start the coffee.

"Let me see, darling," Alastor muttered with his hand held out for hers.

She sighed before doing as he said.

Alastor took some cleaning wipes and began to clean and disinfect it.

Husk glanced at her wrist.

"Angel is gonna be pissed when he finds out," Husk stated.

"That's why we're not telling him. He... doesn't know.... he thinks I stopped like 10 years ago," Aponi explained.

Alastor put a bandaid on Aponi's wrist before moving to her thighs and scooting closer to her.

"You're tellin me with all the short skirts you wear angel never notices the cuts?" Husk asked.

"Do you?" Aponi asked in return.

"Well no, but-"

"Why woukd you, my friend? You already know not to look at my girlfriend in that way do you not?" Alastor asked with a menacing smile, not lookingbup from his work.

"Uh.....right. You're right. I'd NEVER look at her that way. Ever." Husk sputtered.

Aponi giggled before wincing at the pain in her thighs.

"Hold still, darling," Alastor muttered.

"Right.... sorry Al," Aponi stated.

As alastor finished up he sat up straighter. "Any other ones i should know about before I put this away?" He asked.

"I only had time for the thighs and one arm. Thanks Al," Aponi replied.

"Of course, my Darling, but..... I still don't understand," he muttered.

"Its.... like an addiction I guess.... kind of the once you start, you may stop for a while but then you'll relapse kind of addiction....." she explained.

Alastor sighed before hugging her close and kissing her forehead.

"I should go get dressed. I'll be right back," Aponi stated before standing up and wlaking to her room. A few minutes later she came back down in ripped jeans and a baggy t shirt.

Alastor raised an eyebrow. He had never seen her in something that modest before.

"What?" Aponi asked. "The cuts are fresh and I'm not putting makeup on them or over the band aids. I dont wanna look more tacky than I already do most of the time," Aponi joked.

[total-drama-takes-takes-2]

tti episode 6

“Last time on Total Takes Island, the campers had their survival skills put to the test in an overnight camping trip- and oh boy, did some of those campers trip hard! Ultimately, Kitty disappeared and the Inane Anons secured another victory, keeping the Fujoshis on their sharp losing streak. Ouch! Will the Flying Fujoshis finally win an episode? Will Julia finally snap and kill Max, or vice versa? Find out now on Total! Takes! Island!”

“Goooood morning, campers! Up bright and early, I hope!”

Bonnie looks up from where they were lying face-down on their pillow, their hair a matted mess. They sit up, stretch, and check the time on the tablet they’d snuck in- 5:03 AM. 

“After that terrible camping trip, the least he could do is let us sleep!” Courtney sighs, hopping off of the top bunk. Ass rolls over in their bed and covers their ears. “Has anyone seen-?”

Mal pops into the cabin, holding a plate of actual food- sunny-side up eggs, bacon, toast, and coffee. Bonnie and Courtney stare at it like wild animals as Mal carries the tray over to Ass’ bunk. “Hey, got you some breakfast,”

Ass slightly pulls up their sleeping mask, looking over their shoulder- and then pulls it back down and turns to face the wall. Mal sighs and scrapes the food off in the garbage bin, much to Bonnie and Courtney’s dismay. 

---

BONNIE: “I don’t know, nor do I care, what’s happening between those two, but wasting real food? I don’t care how sad you are, that’s a war crime,”

---

COURTNEY: “Mal seems… actually upset. I’m starting to wonder if maybe she has changed.”

---

Ass stands on one side of Bonnie as the team gathers outside the mess hall after breakfast, glaring sharply at Mal, who’s beginning to look a little nervous. 

She turns to Sha-Mod and Caesar. “Hey, if it came down to it, I could count on your guys’ votes, right?” 

Caesar raises an eyebrow and Sha-Mod’s Lightning picture flaps a little in the breeze. “What makes you ask?”

“Sigh… nothing… Just rumors…” She says as she walks off. 

---

CAESAR: “Okay, first of all, she said “sigh” out loud. Second of all, if there’s a rumor abound that I didn’t start, I have to know what it is! If I had to guess, I’m gonna say Mal and her “friend” Ass had some kind of falling out. I’ll confirm with Bonnie later.”

---

The Anons seem to be a little less conflicted today as they lull around outside their cabin in relative silence. Michael leans against the splintery wooden railing of the stairs, watching Scary scamper under the porch with a rat in their teeth.

Max opens the screen door to the boys side and takes a seat on the step next to Michael. "H-"

"Gooood morning, bestie!" Julia grins, forcing herself between the two to give Michael a hug.

"Jesus, hi!" Michael laughs back. Julia looks over her shoulder to glare at Max.

---

JULIA: "So, right now, my only goal is keeping Michael on my side- which means not letting that little weasel get to her first. I'm already at a disadvantage, considering that they basically spent the entire camping challenge alone in the woods together doing God knows what, so I have to dedicate all my time today to keeping Michael close," she grins. "The devil works hard, but Julia works harder."

---

“Alright, campers. Today’s challenge is a fan favorite, and the contestant's worst nightmare!” Chris grins, holding out his arms for emphasis. “Your next challenge is the one, the only- Phobia Factor!”

Scruffy breathes in the gum they’d been chewing and coughs for a few moments. “What?! But we didn’t even talk about our fears last night?" They look around at the other campers. "Unless I didn’t get invited!”

“Silly, silly campers. Don’t you remember the online “"personality test”” you had to fill out in your audition form?” he laughs. “We have all of your worst fears on file! Except…”

Chris points up and then dramatically lowers his finger in Max’s direction. “Max left his blank. Probably a smart move, considering what we’re about to do to you,”

Everyone on the Anon’s team looks at Max, who shrugs. “I’m not afraid of anything,”

“Nothing?” Michael asks. 

He shakes his head. “Nothing,”

“But, say, if there were a large bird of prey circling overhead right now…”

“Thank you, Scary,” he sighs. “But I’m not afraid of anything.”

“Don’t worry, Anons, we’ll get to Max eventually- but for our first victims: Scary, Caesar, Kelly, and Austin- you’ll be meeting Chef in makeup and hair,” he chuckles. “The rest of you, follow me!”

“Nervous?” Scruffy asks, looking at Michael and O beside them. 

O nods rapidly, biting his nails. Michael rolls her eyes. 

Caesar gives Bonnie a nervous look, to which they pat his back before he leaves. Austin and Kelly hold hands, and Scary slinks out undetected. The rest of the campers stand, following Chris to the mess hall. Michael, last of her team, is suddenly stopped by Chris, appearing out of nowhere. “Not so fast. You’ve been working real hard, haven’t you, Mikey?” 

“Don’t call me that,”

“Chef has been especially impressed, so he made you this!” Chris pulls a tall glass containing a pink smoothie from behind his back. 

Michael stares. “Is this a part of the challenge? I’ll pass,” 

“How about this then: you drink it or you immediately lose the point!”

She sighs, taking the glass from Chris and inspecting it for a few moments before taking a hesitant sip. Nothing happens- no crushed up maggots, no sewer water, no shards of glass. “Hey, this isn’t half-”

Chris grabs the glass just in time for Michael to pass out on the ground. He chuckles and steps over her unconscious body to join the other campers outside as a few interns hurry over. 

The rest of the contestants are standing outside the mess hall around a baby blue tent, waiting in vague confusion as Chris approaches. 

“Bonnie, if you will,” Chris smiles, opening the blue tent flap. The contestant walks in, and sees nothing but a simple dentist’s chair. Bonnie smirks, and takes a seat. “The dentist’s? Really? How cliche,”

“Oh, no. That isn’t for dental care,” Chris smiles as metal fixtures clamp around Bonnie’s wrists and ankles, cuffing them to the chair. “This is our virtual reality tent. And this,” he holds up a headset, goggles and all. “Is the Dramathon 2000, where you’ll be exposed to the most popular and bland Total Drama fan opinions.”

Bonnie’s face pales. “What? No! You can’t do this!”

Chris puts the set over their face and grins. “Don’t worry, every few minutes you’ll get jumpscared with something new. To keep it fresh, you know? But if you wanna chicken out- just press that red button on your arm rest and lose a point for your team. Your five hours start now!”

The rest of the campers watch nervously as an intern presses a button on a remote and some cheery music begins playing. It’s all quiet for a moment, before a robotic voice says “Leshawna was robbed”. Bonnie screams. 

Chris turns. “Alright- oh, and it looks like our made-over campers have returned!” The crowd turns and grimaces at the sight. Austin is dressed in a plain dark gray and white business suit, hair straightened and slicked back- Scary is in a tousled ombre blonde wig, high-rise jeans and a white crop top- Kelly’s tan has been removed and their hair dyed black- and Caesar looks practically gutted in a musty brown mullet wig. 

“Austin, Kelly, your regular-Joe cubicles await you just beyond the mess hall. You have a lot of paperwork to get to, dudes. Scary, you can go ahead and start Instagramming now,” Chris chuckles, tossing them a phone. “And Caesar… man, that hair is terrible!”

Caesar whimpers and sulks into the virtual reality tent, closing the flap behind him and sitting in the corner while Bonnie screams. 

“Alright then! Let’s see, who’s next…? Julia, care to test your wits?”

Julia smiles and shrugs. “Bring it on, McLean,”

“Loving the attitude! Now, on your personality test, you wrote “not slaying” in the fear category,” she smirks in response. “Well, we made a few calls back home, and your folks had a different story to tell! Chef?”

Chef walks over and hands Julia a wooden sword. She scoffs. “Ha-ha. Taking things a little literally, huh?”

“Not really,” he chuckles as Chef leads her around the corner to a large pen. “Your goal is to defend yourself from these lovely geese for as long as you can.”

Julia’s eyes widen and she looks around before trying to turn and run. Chef grabs her and tosses her in the corral, surrounded by a dozen full-grown geese. She whimpers and trembles, clutching the sword to her chest. Max rolls his eyes as Chris pulls out his megaphone. 

“You’ll notice that there’s an exit across the pen. Make it out, and you’ll score your team a point!”

Julia shakes her head violently. 

“Come on, Julia!” the team shouts. “You can do this!”

“IT’S JUST A BUNCH OF DUCKS!” Max yells, cupping his face. 

"Geese!" Julia corrects him.

She then frowns, takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, holding the sword out blindly in front of her as she stands and runs through the paddock. Not a single goose even looks at her as she screams the entire way through, slamming into the gate and collapsing before getting up and crawling out. 

“That’s one point for the Anons!” 

The team cheers as Julia is lifted up by Chef and taken to the medical tent. “Alright, who’s next… Ass, come up here, please!”

Ass sighs and steps forward. They don’t exactly look terrified, but they’re certainly not happy, either. A handsome gentleman in a finely pressed suit walks out of the mess hall and stands beside them. 

“Ass, this is your fiance, Kevin,”

Ass sulks and rolls their eyes. 

---

ASS: “For as long as I can remember, I’ve had the same recurring nightmare. In it, I’m an adult, and I’m engaged to this perfect dream guy- he’s everything I want in a partner: tall, funny, and sweet. But then this mystery femme fatale who I have drama with for whatever reason swoops in and kisses him to get back at me for… something. I’ve had this dream so many times, it really isn’t even scary anymore, it’s just absurd. I mean, how would that even happen in real life?”

---

Ass pretends to look nervous and takes a phony deep breath. Mal starts to approach to say something, but McLovin barrels through and stands beside them instead, offering support. Courtney gives a nod of approval as Ass gives McLovin an odd- then somewhat grateful glance. 

An attractive young woman in a pink wig comes out of the mess hall next with an angry glare. “I hate you!” she yells at Ass before swooping in and kissing Kevin. Ass watches apathetically. 

“And that’s one point for the Fujoshis!” Chris grins. “Let’s break for lunch, shall we?”

---

“So, who do we have left?” Max asks, once again refusing to touch his meal (today it’s brown goo). 

“Frollo just left, but O hasn’t gone yet,” Julia says weakly. There’s a large bandage around her torso. “Neither has Scruffy, Staci, or Michael.”

“Hm. Where is Michael?”

---

A bird of prey cries overhead as Michael sits up on a patch of grass, groaning. Her face is a sickly shade of green as she adjusts to her surroundings, and she notices a little gray box adorned with a red button at her feet, a sticky note attached to it. 

“Dear Michael. Feel free to chicken out with the callback button any time. Love, Chris,” she reads before she suddenly turns pale and runs over to a cliff edge to throw up. As she looks up, she notices she’s still on the Island- but with no one in sight. 

“Hello?”

No response. 

“Very funny, Chris, guys- where are you hiding?”

She peers in the mess hall, the cabins, even the confessional- no one. A look of panic begins to cross Michael’s face. “Oh, God. They left me here. I’m stuck on the island,”

---

A sudden, loud siren sounds over the intercom system and everyone jumps. A loud voice spoken over a megaphone follows:

“Reuban Fogell, you are under arrest. We have you surrounded!”

Courtney raises an eyebrow. “Who the hell is Reuban Fogell?”

Everyone in the mess hall turns to McLovin as he suddenly rises, standing on the bench with a look of cold determination on his face. 

“Resisting is pointless! Come out with your hands up!”

McLovin takes off his usual glasses and puts on a pair of prescription sunglasses before he slowly walks to the door of the mess hall, stepping outside with his hands held high in the air. The rest of the campers crowd around the window, watching as Chef (dressed as a prison warden) handcuffs him and drags him away as he nods. 

Chris steps into view, holding a megaphone. “Impressive. Didn’t even throw up or anything. That’s two points for the Fujoshis!”

---

MCLOVIN: “Yeah, I lied on my personality test. I’m not scared of pigs. Why? Cause I’m gangsta, suckas!” he flips his sunglasses back on and attempts to lean back before falling into the confessional toilet. 

---

“I cannot believe this,” Julia mutters. 

The Fujoshis looks at each other before cheering and high-fiving. Chris steps inside a moment later, holding a large black box which he drops on the floor with a thump. 

“Sha-Mod, care to join the winning members of your team?” 

The Fujoshis part like the Red Sea and reveal a slightly-trembling Sha-Mod, clutching onto his Lightning picture. The box is a paper shredder. 

---

SHA-MOD: “I’ll be Sha-Real with you all back home for a second. I’m not on the island for money, or to make friends, or to have a fun time. I’m here because I accidentally entered a contest at the White Oaks Mall in London, Ontario. I thought the prize was a lifetime of free soft pretzels. Turns out the prize was an audition-free entry to this show, which I never even Sha-Heard of until I realized I signed a contract for it! I watched one season, the toxic one.”

---

“Ready to show the world the real you, buddy?” Chris chuckles. Sha-Mod violently shakes his head. 

“It’s just a picture,” Ass says, rolling their eyes. 

"You can do it, Sha-Mod!" Courtney smiles encouragingly.

“Nuh-uh. This thing is not going sha-anywhere,”

“You sure about that?” Chris smiles. 

“Sha-sure- I mean, yes,”

Chris shrugs, and a few interns run in and hoist away the paper shredder. The Fujoshis groan. 

---

SHA-MOD: “I may have lost the point but I kept something more important: my Sha-Anonymity.”

---

Austin walks into the mess hall, wearing his regular uncoordinated clothes again, his hair wet. Chris chuckles. “Failed, I presume?”

Austin sulks. “I jumped in the lake, baby. I couldn’t do it- I couldn’t be a square,”

Max smacks his forehead and Julia sighs. 

“Well, anyway- Scruffy- Bonnie’s time is about up, which means you’re set for your turn in the Dramathon 2000! And Staci- or should I say Alex- you’re going to meet Chef in the kitchen for a fun little talk.” 

Scruffy swallows a lump in their throat and walks outside the mess hall as a nervous Staci heads in the opposite direction. 

“Mal, Courtney- I’ll see you two and the rest of your team in the cabin area,” Chris grins. “We have a special surprise for you.”

---

The sun beats down over the empty island as Michael digs through the kitchen pantry, finding it completely empty aside from an old can of tuna. She sighs and rubs her eyes, and then walks back outside the mess hall. 

She walks over to the cabins, which look as if a tornado had gone through them, and pulls a plank of wood off the stairs, carrying it over to the beach where a loosely constructed raft is half-way done. 

---

MICHAEL: “I didn’t come to this show to win. I don’t even want to win, honestly. I joined because I was hoping I’d get to meet more people who’d see me as something more than just “one of the guys”. This has to be some kind of divine punishment- I was unhappy with my current friends, so everyone left.”

----

Chef presses the red button on the Dramathon chair and releases Bonnie from their restraints, to which they immediately tear off the virtual reality machine and toss it across the tent, their eyes red and pupils extremely dilated. 

(three points for the Fujoshis)

“Chris wants everyone out by the cabins,” Chef says. Caesar stands from his corner and helps Bonnie out of the chair and outside the tent, shielding their eyes from the sun.

“Caesar- is that you?” they mutter, shaking slightly as their pupils dart around. 

“I’m here, doll. Can you see?”

“No- my eyes are fried,”

“Oh, thank God,” Caesar breathes a sigh of relief. “This haircut is terrible.” 

Scruffy watches the two in terror, and steps inside. Though they look terribly nervous, they take a seat without complaint anyway, allowing Chef to set up the Dramathon 2000. 

“Did… Chris say what this was going to be?” they ask in a quiet voice. 

“Just a history lecture,”

Scruffy sighs and relaxes a little. 

“An American history lecture,”

“Wh-what?” Scruffy asks. “No- you can’t make me! I can’t listen to the preamble again! NOOOOOO!”

“Yeah, whatever,” Chef shakes his head, muttering “Americans” to himself before throwing on a cardigan and a pair of reading glasses. “Sit tight, I gotta session to get to.”

---

Staci lies on a couch set up in the kitchen, jittery and nervous. Chef takes a seat in a plush chair across from them, clearing his throat as he pulls out a notepad and flips through it. 

They stare in terror as he slowly flips through the pages, adjusts and readjusts his glasses, and licks his lips. “So-”

“NOOOOOOOO!” Staci screams, jumping up and dashing out. 

---

MICHAEL: “Is it a problem that I need to be surrounded with people all the time?! Maybe! Maybe! But this is different! They left me here to die! I can’t die here! I can’t die on this [censored] island! Just when people were starting to like me!”

---

“O, my dude, your services are needed out here!” Chris shouts into his megaphone with a voice that clearly reads as him holding back laughter. 

O, shaking like a leaf, stands from the mess hall table. Julia, Max, Staci, and Austin give each other glances as he leaves, and then upon hearing a shrill, terrified shriek, stand from their seats and hurry outside. 

Chris is holding back tears as O rocks back and forth on the ground, eyes wide and terrified. The team looks around, but no one sees anything. “What’s the dealio, baby?”

“Ok, ok, you dudes gotta see this- watch,” Chris squeaks, tears running down his face. He pulls a thin paper mask out from behind his back and holds it up. It’s no monster, no ghost, no tattered, bloody decapitated head- it’s actually a blond with a cowboy hat. 

“Oh. My. God,” Max stifles a laugh. 

“Is that… Geoff?” Staci asks hesitantly. 

Austin looks between the two as they giggle. “What? Who?”

Chris holds the mask over his face and O screams in terror, earning another round of laughter from the group. 

“It’s not funny!” O insists, glaring at them before Chris puts the mask in front of his face again. O shrieks. 

---

O: “Yes, okay, I admit it! I only came onto this show for exposure therapy purposes because of my irrational “phobia” of- of… G-E-O-F-F.”

---

“Alright, alright,” Chris chuckles. “Anyone wanna take over? I have a boxing match to get to.”

Julia raises her hand, and Chris tosses her the mask. “Oh, and once Scary is done being normal in fifteen minutes, let her have a turn, too!”

---

A massive boxing ring has been set up between the two cabins, and a confused crowd of campers surrounds it. 

“Who’s afraid of a little scuff, baby?” Austin asks, looking around. Kelly stands beside him, reapplying fake tan after having completed her challenge while Scary chases around O in the Geoff mask behind them. (three points for the Anons)

“Do you have any idea what’s going on?” Caesar asks, attempting to mousse up his normal hair again, finished with his torture, too (four points for the Fujoshis). Bonnie blinks one eye, then the other, and then collapses on the ground. 

“This is dumb,” Ass sighs. “Let’s get this thing started already, McLean! I’m hungry!”

Chris steps out onto the ring, dressed in a tux and holding a microphone. “Welcome, campers, to a personal favorite of mine: fear-themed boxing! In one corner, we have the lovely, half-metal Courtney! And in the other, we have the possibly lovely, blog-obsessed Mal! Or should I say Lucy?” He chuckles. 

The campers murmur amongst themselves as Mal’s eyes widen. 

“Now, both of these campers had a lot to say when answering our personality test questions, so I’m sure they won’t mind sharing that with you while they settle their differences like men!” Chris shouts into the mic. “Chef, if you please?”

Chef steps out in a sparkling blue dress, holding two separate diaries. 

The crowd murmurs, deeply unsettled. A few interns walk in, pushing a wheelbarrow as the campers talk amongst themselves, and they dump Michael on the ground. Julia helps her up. 

“How’d it go?” 

“Not well. I was halfway between deciding whether I wanted to try to get off the island or kill myself when I remembered I could just quit,”

Max shrugs. “Well, glad you didn't kill yourself. We might actually have a shot at winning this thing,”

Michael looks at him, then to the ring as the match begins. Courtney and Mal glare at each other, throwing a few punches as Chef reads. 

“Dear Diary, today, Lucy-slash-Mal threw the dodgeball challenge by using our weakest players to her scummy advantage,” Chef reads in a cold, monotone voice. Caesar raises an eyebrow, and McLovin and Sha-Mod look at each other. “I have a feeling she’s trying to get us to lose so she can weaken the team and vote me out.”

Chef switches to the other diary. “Hey gurlz. I’m back from the dead again. Laughing GIF. Clapping GIF. Today I managed to convince the idiots on my team to vote out Patrick instead of me. I have pompadour and paper bag face on my side, and Noah 2 is totally wrapped around my finger. LOL! Smirking GIF.”

Max crosses his arms, rubbing his chin with a thoughtful expression and Julia gives the Fujoshis a perplexed look.

The Fujoshis, on the other hand, look outright furious. Sha-Mod, Ass, and Caesar all glance at each other. Mal throws another punch, narrowly missing Courtney. 

“FINE! I admit it! I’ve been playing the game just like everyone loves to see it played!” She yells, dodging Courtney’s glove. “So, I’m a new Heather! Sue me! You all need me, anyway! This show is nothing without me!”

Chris smiles, standing alongside Chef as the display unravels. 

“Who’s going to help you? THEM?” Mal shouts, hitting Courtney in the gut. They wheeze and fall over. “Courtney barely has a thousand followers on their shitty blog, let alone 10k! I have 22 thousand watchers on Deviantart! My fics make AO3!” she swings again. “Courtney is “nice” but at least!” she throws a punch once more. “I’m!” Courtney ducks and rolls. “POPULAR!”

Courtney body slams Mal, sending her to the ground with a dull thud. Chef counts down the seconds and then blows on his ref whistle, declaring her OUT!

The Fujoshis cheer, surrounding Courtney and hoisting her in the air. 

“Yeah, that’s great and all, but only Mal spoke her truth, so… you’re only getting one point for that,” Chris chuckles. The Fujoshis stare in silence, unanimously shrug, and then go back to cheering.

(five points for the Fujoshis)

Scruffy walks up, looking much less disturbed than Bonnie. “Hey, what’s going on?”

“Boxing match. How’d it go with you?” Staci asks. 

“Eh, I fell asleep,” Scruffy looks over their shoulder and watches O crawling on all fours to avoid Scary with a grimace. "I see we're not doing too well."

"That's five points for you Anons," Chris says, popping up out of nowhere.

Max counts on his fingers silently. “We’re tied,”

“Very observant!” Chris smiles. “Your tiebreaker lies on the only member of your team who hasn’t faced their fear yet.”

Max nods knowingly. “Frollo,” 

“Nah, he did just fine,”

---

Frollo leans against the glitter-covered bar in a gay club, lights flashing and streamers flying as he flips through his Bible. 

---

“I was talking about you, kid,” Chris smiles. “You may have left our application blank, but your college admission essay says a lot about you.”

Max turns white and freezes. 

“Wait, college essay?” Julia asks, turning to him with her hands on her hips. “How old are you?”

“Eighteen in August,” Chris answers, matter-of-factly. "Probably shouldn't have chosen child psychology as a topic for your essay, bud."

“God, I would’ve guessed, like, twelve or something,”

Max shakes his head, ignoring Julia’s quip as Chris grins wickedly. 

“Hey, man, it’s easy. Probably the least painful challenge today,” the host says. “We just need you to walk from this end of the cabins to the other holding Chef’s hand,” Chef approaches, wearing a dress and a brown wig. “...While he’s dressed as your mother.”

A brief silence falls over the Anons, followed by a round of barely-restrained laughter. Max turns red. “IT’S NOT FUNNY!”

---

Max stares into the confessional camera for a moment with an aggravated look. He keeps perfectly still for a few moments before pointing and shouting. 

MAX: “I DO NOT HAVE ISSUES WITH MY MOTHER!”

---

The Anons watch on in silence as Max inches forward, his feet scraping against the grass as he drags each shoe in front of the other. Chef grins and holds out a hand, to which Max stares at for a few moments. 

Julia smirks, crossing her arms over her chest. Michael looks between the two with a nervous expression on her face. 

---

MICHAEL: “It's not that I wanted to help him, I just remember feeling really bad. I guess I’d just been abandoned on a replica of the island for hours and I was pretty emotionally raw, but… I know what it’s like to feel alone like that.”

---

“Wait!” Michael says, stepping out in front of a very disgruntled Julia. “I’ll go too!”

“You know it’s only one point per challenge, right?” Chris asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“I know,” she circles around to Chef’s free hand and takes it, attempting to give Max a reassuring smile.

He sighs in defeat and holds the other hand. “For the record, I’m not doing this because you’re helping me. I don't need help. This is for the game,”

“What makes you think I’m doing it for you?”

Max shrugs and Chef rolls his eyes before starting off, practically dragging the two behind him as he speed-walks over to the other side of the cabins. 

---

CHEF: “What? I had a long day!”

---

As soon as they reach the other side, Max wheezes and collapses on the ground. 

(six points)

“And that’s your winning point, Anons! Safe for another day,” Chris grins, tossing away the microphone and tearing off his suit to reveal his usual clothes underneath. He walks over to where Max is huddled on the ground. “You might wanna take some alone time to wash that shame off, bud.”

---

JULIA: "Well, that went poorly. But in my defense, those geese really threw me off!"

---

“Fujoshis- you lived, you laughed, you loved, and you even lost! But only one of you is going home tonight. 

McLovin- Bonnie- Caesar- and Ass- you’re all safe. Courtney- you saved your dignity, but you failed to own up to your truth and cost your team a point. Mal- you scored, but you also showed your true colors and turned everyone against you- and Sha-Mod- you just plain failed, dude,” Chris chuckles. The three give each other nervous glances (even the Lightning picture quivers a bit in the breeze) as Chris continues. 

“Courtney… you’re safe,”

Courtney breathes a sigh of relief and catches her marshmallow. 

“And, finally…

The remaining marshmallow…

Goes to…

Our remaining camper…”

“JUST GET ON WITH IT!” Ass snaps. 

“Yeesh, dude. Just trying to create some suspense. Sha-Mod! You’re safe,”

Mal stands, clenching her fists and gritting her teeth. She marches over to Ass, shoving McLovin out of the way when he tries to stand between the two, and lunges. Chef grabs her just in time and hoists her over his shoulder. 

“YOU THINK THIS IS IT?! THIS ISN’T IT! THIS ISN’T OVER! I’M GONNA…” her voice fades as they go further and further down the docks. The Fujoshis stare at each other. 

“Did anyone get that?” Courtney asks. McLovin and Ass shrug. 

“Who will scream indistinctly next time? And who will stay to play another day? Find out next time, on Total! Takes! Island!”

---

ASS: "I guess I should've seen it coming. You know me- can't have one normal friend without something ridiculous happening. I still have some hope that I'll find someone on the island who isn't a total psychopath. But, hey... maybe I already have.

---

[elisysd]

41. How long can we be a sad song ‘til we were too far gone to bring back to life?

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: You’re losing me - Taylor Swift

When she had given Ethan forty-eight hours, she didn’t think he would take it so seriously. He had come to her room as soon as the sun had risen, waking her up. She had opened the door to a neatly shaved and casually dressed Ethan, a basket in his hand and a smile on his face. He had entered her room as if he had owned the place and taken the place on the couch while she had stared at him in a slight disbelief.

“It’s six in the morning.”

“I know but you gave me forty-eight hours and I know you’ll be busy so I want to maximize our time spent together. And it starts now. So get dressed, I’m taking you out.”

“Out where?”

“I don’t know, somewhere. We will find a place to sit and eat, it will be fun.” he shrugged.

“I have to get back at ten…”

“You’ll be. Trust me.”

She had sighed but finally agreed. That’s how they ended up in the middle of the vines, at seven in the morning, trying to enjoy the warmth of the sun on their faces. Ethan had set a blanket on the ground and had been extra careful with her, making sure she was at ease and helping her settle. It was so unexpected from him that she was slightly uncomfortable.

“You’re acting like a gentleman…” she said.

“I’m trying. For you. I want you to see that I mean it when I say that I want to be the best for you.”

“I know you mean it. I know you do your best but…”

“No big and deep talks. Today and tomorrow we are just Ethan and Julia. There is only us. We are not Ethan, Julia and their issues.”

It was so tempting and seemed so nice that she didn’t have the heart to tell him that they needed to talk about them at some point. And rather sooner than later. But to her surprise, it was so easy to forget everything that was wrong between them. He was so carefree, so fun around her, making her laugh and making her feel good about herself.

“You still wear the pendant.” he noticed, his eyes glued on her neck.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know… I assumed that you would get rid of it.”

“That’s a stupid thing to assume.”

With a hesitant hand he brushed the metal and noticed her breathing picking up. He looked in her blue-green eyes to find answers to his unspoken questions but only encountered the same doubts as he had in his. He slowly leaned in to stop a few millimeters to her lips and his heart ached when she turned her head away.

“Joolsie…”

“We can’t do that… I’m sorry Ethan, it’s just that I can’t kiss you. Not like that, not before we talked things through…”

“I want things to go back to how they were… when it was easy. I don’t want the deep talk, I don’t want your tears Julia, I just want you happy….”

“But you can’t make me happy if we don’t talk.”

“Why do you make it so complicated?”

“I’m not. That’s what you don’t understand.”

She put some distance between them and got up, looking at the time.

“I have to go, I have one last fitting with my mom and the girls.”

“When will you be available?” he asked.

“Around four… I have a little time and then we have dinner. I arranged everything so you can sit with Kyle and Romy and don’t worry, I put Martin at the exact opposite of where you are so you don’t have to make eye contact or talk to each other.”

“I thought I would sit next to you?”

“Ethan…”

“No. Never mind. I’m in the dog house. Copy. Maybe I can still woo you back so I’ll stand by your side next time.”

It made her sigh and it was in silence that they made their way back to the hotel. She was a little relieved to see Romy arriving with Kyle, at least Ethan wouldn’t be alone. She was feeling guilty at the idea to leave him alone but she had things to do that she couldn’t postpone. She gave a little hug to her best friend, nodded in the direction of Kyle and left.

Ethan looked at her back, gulping and barely felt Kyle’s hand on him. It’s only when he tugged at his shirt that he finally turned around.

“How are you doing?”

“I feel numb, if I’m being honest. I think… I’m losing her Kyle.”

“Of course you do, have you seen the stunt you pulled?” intervened Romy, a little angry.

“Romy…”

“No Kyle. He might be your best friend and you might love him like a brother but he fucked up. Big, big time and honestly, I think you deserve to feel like that. You let her down countless times when you know how fragile she is. And I don’t care that you might love her, if you even know what it means, I would be her, I would have dumped your sorry ass the minute you pulled that stunt in Canada. You know how much Ferrari means to her, how much she loves the team and her dad, this team is almost like a family legacy to her and yet you decided to be selfish and to let your unhealthy jealousy do the talking. That’s pathetic and it doesn’t make you anything else than a coward.”

“Enough! Romy, it’s enough. He knows all of that, you don’t need to put him down like that. He feels bad enough.” said Kyle, coming between them.

“No, let her. She is right. I know that I fucked up, I know that maybe I’m losing her if it is not already the case but you won’t stop me from trying to save what can be saved because I care, Romy! A lot! A whole fucking lot and I can’t bare the thought of losing her without having the feeling that I gave my all to her. Ultimately it will be her choice and whatever it is I’ll try to respect it but I love her. That you won’t take it away from me.

Romy looked at Kyle trying to have him by her side but a sign of his head told her that she wouldn’t win the fight. She huffed and took her suitcase, leaving both boys on the side.

“I don’t want to create drama between you and Romy.”

“You won’t. I’ll take care of her, don’t worry. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m not sure of anything, anymore.”

“Come with me, we’ll talk.” he gestured to Ethan to follow him to a bench near the parking lot.

They sat down and Kyle stared at Ethan.

“I’m worried about you.”

“You shouldn’t. I’m fine. I… I have a therapist now. It has only been one session but I think it will help me.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“You don’t think I’m crazy?”

“Of course not. I think it’s about damn time.”

“Don’t tell anyone. Not even to Romy.”

“It’s not my business, Ethan. If someone has to say it, it has to be you. What are you planning to do about Julia?” Kyle asked.

“She gave me today and tomorrow to show her that I can make her happy and I intend to do that. And when she sees that, I’ll tell her that I love her. And we will be happy.”

Kyle didn’t have the will to tell him that love wouldn’t solve everything and that he feared that Julia’s and Ethan’s relationship might have been broken beyond repair this time.

“I’ll always be there for you, okay. You’ll have me in your corner, no matter what and if something happens, know that you can talk to me.”

“I know. No need to be so depressing, you’re talking as if I was about to die. It will be fine, don’t worry!” Ethan said in a laugh.

“But if it isn’t, I don’t want you to do anything stupid. You come to me first if you feel you’re about to mess up. It’s Julia’s parents wedding, if you fuck up she won’t forgive you.”

Ethan finally left Kyle to prepare everything for the night. He had planned to take the car for a little road trip and to find a quiet spot where they could have watched the stars. And he would have kissed her, reminding her that they belonged together, he wouldn’t have told her that he loved her yet but he would have showed her, she would’ve felt it.

Like she had told him, she was ready at four and he was already waiting for her. He saw her laughing with her mom who stopped to nudge her daughter, showing her Ethan. Shyly, Julia came to him as he gave her a huge sunflower bouquet under the amused eye of Lyanna who soon was joined by her husband giving the side eye to the Maserati’s driver. He was about to say something when she clearly stepped on his toes, making him gasp.

“Little road trip?”

“And what about dinner?”

“I thought you could skip it.”

“I wish, to be honest. My parents are driving me crazy.” she whispered.

“Then, let me be your sweet escape.”

She involuntarily rolled her eyes in front of the very cheesy line but followed him without hesitation.

As he had planned they drove without a destination in mind, Ethan’s hand finding her thigh and letting it rest there as she wasn’t saying anything. It was silent, but it wasn’t awkward. Julia let herself sink deeper in her seat as she linked her fingers to his. They finally arrived at the top of a hill, where no one would bother them and Ethan put down the blanket so they could lay there. Still her hand in his, he helped her sat down, her back facing him as he buried his head in her neck. He was surprised to not see her react and pull away. Maybe, after all, he hadn’t lost her entirely. He peppered her neck with kisses until he felt her move to give him more space. It required all his self control to not take her right here and there. Instead he made her face him and kissed her nose, making her giggle.

“You’re awfully sweet, tonight.”

“You let me. I will enjoy it while it lasts.”

“I really wish we could stay like this forever, you know. I’m not trying to play hard to get or I’m not trying to hurt you. I want nothing more than for this to work Ethan but I don’t know if we are ready for a relationship.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, feeling defensive.

“What I’m trying to say is maybe it would be better if…”

“No. Don’t finish this sentence. I don’t want to hear it.”

“Ethan…” she sighed.

“I’m serious. Listen. We have reasons to believe it will work out. First, we want to be together, right? So it means something. Then, you’re going to accept Christian’s offer and it will change everything. I’m sure it’s going to help us find our balance.”

“About that…”

“No, let me finish. So, new job, new life. You’ll be living in England and I thought that maybe we could live together. I'm barely using my flat in Monaco because it feels empty but when I came home and saw your stuff everywhere, suddenly it didn’t feel as empty and I was not dreading to come back anymore. I know you’ll be busy and I’ll be too but we can make it work. We can eat together at the factory when I’m there to work on the sim and we can have date nights just the two of us in our flat. We won’t leave each other's side and it’s great because I’ll be right by your side when you’ll get in your own head because of the pressure or because you’ll think you're not enough. And about the races, you’ll be near me and I know that’s what I need. You are going to be my biggest cheerleader and I promise you, every podium and wins I’ll find you in the crowd and they will be for you.”

“I really need to tell you something, it’s very important…” she tried to say but he was listening.

“And of course, I know how your family is important so I’ll make sure we get to travel as much as we can to see them. Especially Louis, you’ll see your dad on the tracks, so I guess it’s fine but Louis is everything to you and I don’t want you to lose what you have with him. And… Julia? Are you crying?”

“I’m sorry it’s just… you gave that a lot of thoughts and it seems so great when you present it like this.”

“It is. And soon, it will be real. I promise you Julia, I’m not letting us down, this time.”

He was so determined that Julia didn’t have the strength to tell him about her decision. Instead, she turned towards him and pressed her lips on his, barely giving him the time to react. It was a salty kiss. A kiss of hope and regret. A kiss to remember what was there and what was lost. What couldn’t be saved and what should have been. A reminder of what they could have been. Ethan’s hands grabbed her hips as he laid down on the blanket and let her remove his shirt as found the opening of her dress. In the wild, they abandoned themselves to each other, letting the birds be the only spectator of their love. And it’s with her heart aching more than ever that Julia let herself drowned in his eyes as he didn’t once looked away from her or closed his eyes, taking everything she had to offer to him and cherishing it.

They laid there, in each other’s embrace for a while, Ethan playing with her hair as she was resting her head on his chest, listening to his heart beating.

“I know it doesn’t solve anything but… I missed that. I missed you.” he said, kissing the side of her head.

“We should go back. Everyone will get worried and it’s late.” she said in a detached voice.

“Yeah, you’re right. Tomorrow is going to be fun, I thought we could explore the basement, where they keep the bottles? What do you think?”

“I’ll be very busy tomorrow. I’m not sure I’ll have time. I know I promised you forty-eight hours but it wasn’t a good idea. It really wasn’t.”

Ethan could see the wheels turning in her head full speed as she was shakily putting her clothes back on. Ethan did the same and as she was getting away he managed to grab her arms and make her turn around.

“You’re panicking. You are getting in your own head, Joolsie. Don’t. Don’t do that. I’m begging you, don’t do that.”

“We shouldn’t have and you know it. Not like that.”

“But it was good! The connection we have, you know it’s real, you know it’s true, you feel it, I do too.”

“I need to go back to the hotel. It’s really late.”

Ethan sighed, knowing really well that he couldn’t talk to her when she was like that. He brought back his things and put them in the back of the car before sitting behind the steering wheel and making their way back to the hotel in silence, much less comfortable than when they first stepped inside it.

When they finally arrived, Julia was quick to hop out of the car to head to the entrance, followed by Ethan that didn’t know what to say, knowing it would make everything worse. He could see her shoulders rapidly moving as if she was out of breath or was struggling and he just wanted to take her in his arms, whispering to her ear that everything would be okay, that he was there for her. He was losing her and no matter how hard he was trying to reach out he was only managing to make her pull away. He didn’t know what to do anymore, or more he knew but he didn’t know if he was strong enough or brave enough. But it might be his last and only chance to save their relationship. So when they were in front of her door and she finally looked at him he was ready to say it.

“Julia… I have to tell you something…”

“I do too.”

He was about to open his mouth when Charles' silhouette appeared in the corridor all smiley before it dropped seeing Ethan next to his daughter. He glared at him before turning his head to Julia, a large amount of papers under his arms.

“I was searching for you, I didn’t expect you to come back this late. But anyway, I have your new contract ready so if you want to have a look and if you want some clarification or if you want to negotiate some things, let me know. You don’t have to study it now or sign it straight away but on behalf of the whole team, I want to tell you "Welcome onboard, welcome to Ferrar!””

“To Ferrari?” Ethan repeated.

“She didn’t tell you? She refused Christian’s job offer.” said Charles and he couldn’t stop the cocky smile on his face.

Julia looked at her dad with an angry look before turning to Ethan who had his jaw clenched barely looking at her.

“Ethan… I swear I was about to tell you.”

“When? After making me pour my heart out to you, telling you exactly how I pictured our life in England when you would have accepted the job? After you let me make love to you ? Because that wasn’t a little fuck to me Julia, unlike you apparently. Don’t waste your breath, Joolsie. I don’t care. You do what you want.”

“Damn right she will do what she wants Ethan. She doesn’t owe you anything.”

“Dad! That’s between him and I! Ethan please, can we talk about it?”

He could see the tears running down her face and he could feel his as well. He let her take a step back and put both cold hands on his face, trying to make him look at her. She barely heard her dad talking to her, her only focus on Ethan.

“Elijah is leaving the team at the end of the year. That means we are going to build the car around Martin’s driving style and I will need you to work closely with him in the sim to gather all the info.”

She didn’t react but Ethan’s gaze crossed Charles and he was almost sure that the info had only one purpose: hurting him more than he already was.

“I’m begging you Ethan, just let me explain… talk to me, just… don’t push me away without letting me explain. I wanted to tell you I swear. I tried to but you were so happy and..”

“And what? You decided to play me? Give me false hope? I shouldn’t be surprised, anyway. You are the queen of giving false hope to men. I’m leaving. I guess we can cancel whatever I had planned for tomorrow. I need to digest the info and I don’t want to say something that I will regret.”

He heard her barely breathing sorry in his back but decided to ignore it, leaving her in the middle of the corridor, completely shattered.

Deep down he knew he couldn’t and shouldn’t be mad. He had promised her that no matter what she would choose, he would be there to support her. But, he had never imagined how far he had pictured their lives and how excited he had felt. Only for that to be crushed. How could he have felt so happy one moment and so sad the next? On his way to his room he found Martin, peacefully sitting on the edge of a balcony, trying to enjoy the fresh Italian air. Ethan had the thought of how easy it would be to push him from the balcony but quickly retracted himself. Feeling his gaze on him Martin turned around and gave a forced smile to Ethan before noticing how pale he was.

“I think you won. Congrats. You might be on your way to get the girl in the end.” Ethan said, a lump in his throat.

“She told you, then…” Martin replied, unsure of what Ethan was implying.

“No. Her dad did.”

“Ethan, can we talk?”

“I don’t have anything to tell you. I don’t have the energy. I just want this fucking wedding to be over. It’s supposed to be a celebration and for now, I only have a heart that keeps breaking everyday a little more, so no. I don’t want to talk. Especially not to you.”

“I just want to tell you I’m sorry. About everything. About the things I said and the things I did. That was not right, it has never been. I let my feelings for Julia blind me and you were on the receiving end. I just wish we could put all of this behind us. Because at the end of the day, you are my best competition. No matter what. And I wish we would have battled fair and square. I’ve never wanted to take it this far. I regret it.”

Ethan didn’t know what to say. Apologies were the last thing he had ever expected to receive from Martin.

“Maybe in another life? Or in a few years? Because right now I really can’t see us being anything else than mortal rivals.”

“And I like it that way. As long as you don’t try to kill me.”

“It can get arranged. As long as you don’t open your mouth.”

“That can get arranged.” he smiled and Ethan walked off.

It had been a weird interaction. Very weird. But maybe it also meant that nothing was forever broken beyond repairs. Despite everything he smiled. No, he wouldn’t back down without a fight, without telling her the one last thing he had to say. And Julia Leclerc was a girl who was worth fighting for.

Author's note: I promise you guys I'm not making them suffer for the sole pleasure of making them suffer (okay I enjoy it a little), it will be worthy at the end. But they have to go through a bunch of (not so fun) stuff before getting their happyly ever after. What do you think will happen next? Let me know your theories, I love to read them.

Don't hesitate to leave a comment or an ask, as well as reblogging and leaving a like. Besides the fact that I absolutely love to read you, it helps a lot for the story to find its audience. I also have a taglist for this story, so if you want to be added so you never miss a chapter, let me know.

Taglist:

@herondalism @aundercover @musingsbyshreya @karmabyfernando @reengard @mycenterfold @smoooothoperator

[wittyvitale]

I Miss Mum: A Castlevania Nocturne Fanfic

Summary: 10-year-old Richter Belmont is having trouble adjusting to his new life in France. Auntie Tera comforts him after a nightmare and reassures him that she is there for him. Pure hurt/comfort domestic fluff

Author's Note: Oh boy, it's my first fluffy Castlevania Nocturne fic! I'm very interested in Richter's life after he moved in with Auntie Tera and Maria, I might write more if inspiration strikes. Enjoy!

Two weeks. It had been two weeks since Richter had arrived in France and moved in with his Auntie Tera and her daughter Maria. Tera welcomed Richter with open arms, immediately treating him as if he were her own son. She radiated kindness and warmth, which Richter immediately gravitated towards. Although he wasn’t fully conscious of this, he was craving comfort and a mother’s touch. He was still in shock over the death of his mother after all.

Although he felt very comfortable with Tera, Richter was still getting adjusted to his new life in France. He was very withdrawn. He stayed in his room most of the time, only coming out to eat and use the privy. 7-year-old Maria tried to get him to play with her a few times, but Richter wasn’t up to it. He was never unkind to Maria, but he made it clear that he wanted to be left alone.

“Mum, why doesn’t Richter want to play with me? Did I do something wrong?” Little Maria would ask her mother, hurt and confused.

“No, sweetheart, you haven’t done anything,” Tera would answer comfortingly. “Remember, Richter just moved here from far away. He’s still getting used to us. Just give him some time and have patience. He’ll open up when he’s ready.”

***

“I’m sorry, Richter. I’m so sorry.”

Richter watched helplessly as his mother’s shield of ice was worn down by Olrox. The dragon vampire raised his tail and plunged it into Julia Belmont’s heart.

***

Richter’s eyes shot open and he woke up, gasping for air.

The same nightmare. He’d had it almost every night since his mother was killed. But something about this one was different; it had felt so real, almost as if it was happening again. Richter got out of bed and quietly walked through the halls, not entirely sure what he wanted to do or what he was looking for.

Auntie Tera’s bedroom door was opened halfway and Richter peeked in, being as quiet as possible so she wouldn’t notice him. The light from the full moon cast a silvery glow through her window. Tera was laying on her side in bed, Maria fast asleep next to her. The little girl was on her back, mouth open and breathing softly. Tera watched her daughter lovingly, gently resting the back of her hand on the little girl’s cheek. Richter stared at mother and daughter and felt a pain in his heart, a deep sadness that he couldn’t shake. Tears ran down his face, and before he knew it a loud sob escaped him.

Tera looked up at the sound and saw the bereft young boy outside her door. Her heart dropped at the pain and sadness emanating from his whole being. So much sadness in such a little boy. “Oh Richter.” She said sympathetically.

Richter rubbed his arm quickly over his eyes, trying to stop the tears. Tera patted the free side of her bed. “Come. Sit with me a while.”

Richter hesitated a bit, but he listened to his aunt and crawled into her bed. Tera wrapped an arm around Richter and hugged him into her side. Richter buried his face in her chest and continued to cry.

“I’m sorry, Auntie Tera,” he said through his tears. “I didn’t mean to bother you and Maria.”

“Shhhh, it’s all right, my dear, you’re not bothering us at all,” Tera said reassuringly, tightening her hug. She glanced at Maria and smiled. “Maria’s a deep sleeper, she’s not likely to wake up anytime soon.”

Richter and Tera sat in silence for a few minutes, Tera gently rocking Richter as he continued to cry into her chest.

“I miss mum.” Richter said plaintively. Tera kissed the top of Richter’s head.

“I know.” Tera felt tears prickle in her own eyes, memories of her own trauma returning to her. “I know how much you must be hurting.”

Tera felt Richter nod against her.

“It hurts so much that you can’t even find the words to describe what you’re feeling.”

Richter nodded again.

“Sweet boy, you’ve been through so much in such a short amount of time. You lost your mama, had to travel to a new country, move in with people you never met. You’re exhausted. Not just in body, but in spirit.”

Richter sniffed, not really knowing how to reply.

“But Richter, you still have people who care about you. Maria and I, we’re here for you. We’ll never be able to replace the family your mother gave you, but we can still love you. You can come to me anytime, Richter. If you want to talk, play, or cuddle like we’re doing right now, you can come to me. Please don’t feel like you need to carry all of this pain by yourself.”

Richter took his face out of Tera’s chest and looked at her. Tera ran a hand through his hair and wiped his tears away with the edge of her nightshirt

“Can… can I sleep in your bed tonight?” Richter asked quietly, almost sounding embarrassed. Tera smiled.

“Of course you can. Maria still sleeps in my bed every night. The more the merrier.”

“Th—thank you, Autie Tera.” Richter answered as he yawned. “Maria’s been asking me to go to the creek with her. Maybe… maybe we can do that tomorrow?”

“I think that’s an excellent idea. Maria will love it too,” Richter’s eyes were drooping. “And now I think it’s time for sleep. It’s very late after all.”

Richter laid down in the bed and cuddled up to Tera again. The crying absolutely exhausted him, and before he knew it, Richter had fallen into a deep, more peaceful sleep. Tera looked at the young boy and saw that his breathing had already evened out. His face was smoother, no signs of distress. Just calm. The last thing Richter felt before falling into his slumber was Tera’s comforting arm around him, keeping him safe and secure.

Maybe life in France was going to be all right after all.