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#but then his friends are like Blackout Days
communistchilchuck · 3 days
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I was asked to help share Omar's fundraiser. He is urgently raising money to evacuate he and his family or start rebuilding their lives in Gaza. He has only raised €822 out of his €50,000 goal so far! Please share and donate, and if you can't donate, please still share!
From Omar's GFM:
Hello, I am Omar, a Palestinian from Gaza.
I’m reaching out to you seeking your help for me and my family from the horrors of the relentless war that has been ongoing in Gaza for 7 months now. I would like to tell you a bit about my small family.
I am married and have 4 children, Leen, Lian, Mohammed, and a 9-month-old daughter named Lolo. My 38 years of life in Gaza is what I love all about. I love its beach, its streets, its life, its smell, I love everything about Gaza. I had a normal, quiet and quite happy life with my husband and daughter and with my parents and siblings until last October.
After the 7th of October, my whole life came upside down due to the war on Gaza. I first moved to live with my wife and children at my parents’ house due to the ongoing war and the fact that we needed to be evacuated across the Gaza Strip. I was afraid of not being able to save my family with bombs falling around, so the first displacement was moving to my parent's house. The war became fiercer and we were afraid, my little child was crying due to the continuous shelling and explosions.
Eight months pregnant, my brother's wife struggles to care for herself and her unborn child. The desperation weighs heavily on all of us.
A few days later, we were ordered to evacuate the building where my childhood home once stood so we had to quickly collect a few belongings and leave my parent's house. Me, my wife and our family moved to my sister’s house which was in a quieter neighbourhood and a smaller building. That was our second displacement. Shelling equally followed us to that area, so this time along with my sister, her husband and his family all of us had to move again. We had to split to 3 different places due to available places to shelter and thus with our 3rd displacement, the incessant bombing, lack of water, food, electricity and multiple communications blackouts we also had to endure the separation and the inability to communicate inside Gaza as well as being cut out from the outside world.
There’s no place safe in Gaza, we can be bombed at any time and anywhere across the strip. Displacement is hard on adults, so it’s unimaginably harsh on children who are not able to comprehend why they have to move from one place to the other, the reason some basic day-to-day things keep changing, such as water to shower, food, water, being enclosed without going out and of course the noises of the warplanes and raining bombs. Amid all of these horrors, we received the news that my parent's house, that place we used to call home where we lived our childhood, as teenagers and adults, that neighbourhood where we lived with our friends and neighbours for years was simply reduced to rubble. All 4 buildings and surroundings were wiped up from the neighbourhood. In a few minutes, a lifetime was lost. Home, savings, friends, neighbours, and memories, all vanished in a blink.
My greatest concern is children, their future, where they will live, study and grow up. There’s nothing left in Gaza, all life-sustaining means are now destroyed. The future became blurry and dark. We had dreams, me and my wife, for us and our children. We dreamt of a simple, peaceful and bright life and a successful future for the children. We all have the right to have a normal life and children deserve a normal childhood and a bright future like other children worldwide. We should be able to provide them with the essentials for a normal life, such as safety first and material needs such as food, clean water and clothing and also education. These are the minimum rights of a child.
I’m also concerned about my parents who dedicated their lives to me and my siblings to provide us with the best education and the possible comforts of life so we feel like we live in a place as in any other free country across the globe. At this age and within these war conditions, I would like to be able to provide them with a safe place and a decent life to give back a bit of all their dedication throughout our lives.
In case this war gets to an end, we need to restart our lives, in Gaza or preferably outside where we can find safety and peace. In Gaza, we have no place to live any more and the rebuilding will take years and a huge amount of money. Outside Gaza, we need the money to get out and a reasonable amount to start somewhere.
To be able to find a safe place for our children where we can have a peaceful future alongside her parents and grandparents, I would greatly appreciate your contribution to donate and share this donation request so it can reach the highest number of kindhearted people and we can get a good amount of money to provide the children with what they deserve.
From the bottom of my heart, I would like to greatly thank you for your support.
Sincerely yours,
Omar
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cursedonyx · 1 day
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How the HL Cast Act When They’re Drunk 🍻
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Sebastian Sallow
This lad has three main modes when he’s had a few to drink, and it’s all entirely dependent on how he was feeling beforehand. He will either be the sweetest, cuddliest little snugglebug you’ve ever met, who hugs anyone and everyone regardless of how well he knows them and tells everyone he loves them (unless he’s in an established relationship, then his partner is the only one who receives such ardent affection), or he could be the life and soul of the party, challenging everyone to dares, games and other challenges, accepting pretty much all dares for a laugh, encouraging people to get up and dance and have fun, telling outrageous jokes and more… Or, he will be sullen, moody, and prone to fights. It’s best not to let Sebastian drink too much if he’s in a grump, because it won’t end well.
He's got a pretty good memory for his drunk antics and never gets blackout. This is useful for both making sure his friends are safe and for embarrassing everyone with tales of their conduct the next day, but it’s a double-edged sword, as he will remember everything he did as well.
Ominis Gaunt
A charming man at the best of times, drunk Ominis is a shameless flirt, and will make pretty much everyone fall in love with him at some point during the course of the evening, regardless of which way they swing. He’s got a pretty good head on his shoulders and tends to toe the line of tipsy and inebriated quite well, but if he pitches a bit too far and ends up sauced, his inhibitions are going to go right out the window. He’ll be the first to dance on a tabletop, he swears far more frequently and is prone to showing off a bit, though he still draws the line at public nudity, which is a shame. Chances are, if there’s a piano nearby, he’ll play for everyone with exceptional skill and, if the stars align, he’ll even sing, which is a rare treat for all involved. Mans got the voice of an angel. If he’s in an established relationship, he’s far more comfortable with PDAs and will be much more open to experimenting with his partner once they’re alone.
Though he rarely gets blackout drunk, Ominis can struggle to remember all the details of what he got up to if he has one too many, which without fail will leave him utterly mortified and swearing never to drink again, even if he had a good time. It’ll take a week or two before he’s ready to even have a glass of wine with dinner if he’s embarrassed himself.
Garreth Weasley
Garreth is usually the one to bring his experimental brews to the party and he’s usually swiftly banned from wherever the drinks are being kept. Regardless, after a few bevvies he’s loud, boisterous, and usually found challenging Sebastian to various dares and competitions. A cheerful and popular chap, Garreth is likely to get people singing along to various songs he knows, or ones he’s made up on the spot. Whilst not as tall as Leander, Garreth is a big lad and quite strong too, so any of the girls present might find themselves picked up without warning and swung all about as he tries to dance, and one of his favourite memories of a previous party is trying to pick up all the girls at once and immediately falling over, ending up buried under a pile of laughing women. If Garreth is in an established relationship, very little changes, but you can be safe in the knowledge that even though he's flirting, that’s as far as it will ever go.
Garreth never gets hangovers, no matter how much he drinks, and he’ll be the first one awake the next day, helping to clean up or cook breakfast or make everyone a strong cup of tea.
Leander Prewett
Bless his heart, Leander tries very hard to fit in with his friends and as such will likely end up drinking too much too quickly, meaning he’s usually the first one to suffer the worst effects of drinking. That said, he handles it well, and after chundering once or twice he’s usually ready to keep going. Being a gangly lad, his sense of balance is terrible when he’s blotto, and he’ll trip on a bit of dense air if there’s nothing else to fall over. If the others manage to keep his drinking at a reasonable pace, Leander will often be found trying to flirt with everyone, and though he doesn’t have Ominis’ natural talent for it, he’s a surprisingly smooth talker when he’s not worried about being rejected, and he’s pretty much guaranteed to go home with someone at the end of the night. That is, if he’s single. If Leander is in an established relationship, he’ll follow his partner around, making sure they’re comfortable, warning off potential challenges to his territory, and he won’t even look at another girl.
Leander’s memory of the night before will be hazy at best, and though he knows full well he probably embarrassed himself, he’ll choose to believe he didn’t, so long as no one got hurt.
Amit Thakkar
Amit doesn’t drink much at all, but when he does and has one too many, he’s going to be talking at a mile a minute about whatever’s on his mind, whether that’s his memoirs, his gobbledegook, his stargazing, other people at the party, who he fancies, any gossip he’s overheard, and on and on and on and on. At some point during the night, he stops talking, sits down in the nearest seat, curls up and goes to sleep, no matter how noisy it is, and it’s pretty much like someone flipped a switch. You could be sitting on the sofa with him listening to him babble, then literally a second later he’s out for the count, and he probably won’t wake up for a good few hours, so move him somewhere where he won’t be trodden on. If Amit is in an established relationship, nothing changes about his drunk behaviour, because he’s endearingly loyal at the best of times.
Amit remembers well who he spoke to and what about, but rarely does he realise how much he gabbles on. He tends to take this with a reasonable degree of humility, but aside from hoping he didn’t bore anyone, he’s content that he didn’t embarrass himself.
Andrew Larson
He’s going to be mooning after everyone pretty the moment he gets trashed, and if Ominis is playing the piano, that lad better hope he’s got his girlfriend nearby because Andrew’s going to try his luck and be deeply disappointed by the inevitable rejection. Andrew lives by his emotions and will cry at the drop of a hat or a picture of a cat if he’s had enough to drink, but he will be laughing seconds later if someone falls over or tells him a joke. If the mood takes him, he’ll likely be having long, philosophical debates with anyone who’ll listen (most likely Amit) and he’s prone to wandering off at random moments because he saw something interesting and wants to go on an adventure. He needs a minder. If Andrew is in an established relationship he’s less likely to be a liability because his Alice in Wonderland moments are going to be focused entirely on his partner (and Ominis will remain unaccosted).
Andrew sways between having a good memory for his antics and remembering absolutely nada, sometimes in the same night. Parts of the evening will be clear as day, and parts will be obscured completely. He doesn’t tend to feel too embarrassed for himself, but more for others because it’s a guarantee someone else is going to have done something worse.
Natsai Onai
Even hammered, Natty is the mum friend. She’s the one making sure everyone drinks water in between their booze-infused bevvies, helping people up if they fall over, cleaning up puke and intervening in any brewing fights. Left to her own devices when no one needs her help, she’s sneakily encouraging Garreth to sing rude, memorable shanties, Poppy to climb the walls and jump on people, and Sebastian to run around the garden in the buff because if he doesn’t then Leander will. A master of planting ideas in drunk people’s heads, she usually makes sure things don’t go too far while masterminding entertainment for everyone involved. If Natty is in an established relationship, she’ll still be doing all of the above, but her partner needs to steer her more into the ‘having fun’ side of things so people don’t come to rely on her too much.
She’s got a reasonable memory for drunk happenings, but as she usually doesn’t embarrass herself, she’s pretty good to go the morning after. That said, if Natty does something embarrassing, she goes the whole hog, like the time she got stuck on the roof with only a tea towel for cover. That gets brought up a lot, and she wants to sink into the ground every time it does.
Poppy Sweeting
If you thought Poppy was a nutter beforehand, just wait until she’s got some beers in her. Poppy will be the first to try swinging from the chandelier, the first to encourage everyone to do shots, the first to run around the room with her shirt off, the real life and soul of the party. Once she’s drunk, she’s feral, and will climb over everyone and everything. Once she’s spent her boundless energy, she becomes incredibly cuddly, and if she chooses you to cuddle good luck getting her off you. Regardless of who you’re both respectively dating, you may find yourself going home with Poppy and her partner if the two of you aren’t together and she chooses you to snuggle. It’s not that she’s trying to get you in bed, she just loves cuddles and you smell safe.
She remembers nothing. Absolutely zilch once her blood alcohol level reaches a certain point. No embarrassment either, no matter what she did, she’s just happy everyone had fun.
Imelda Reyes
Competitive as ever, Imelda will likely be challenging people to drinking competitions (and usually Leander’s the only one to take her up on it, most people know better). Imelda has the blood of a Scot (and likely a Viking too) so she can outdrink almost everyone with relative ease. That said, once she’s drunk, she’s drunk. Swaying all over the place, her accent almost incomprehensible, and prone to getting into fights, Imelda is either the worst person to drink with, or the best. If she decides she’s looking after you that night, you’ll not have to worry about a thing, this girl would fight off a dragon for you. If you want to do something, whether it’s playing a certain game, talking to a certain someone, or just chilling outside for a bit, Imelda will make it happen. If you’re not the Chosen One, you can expect things to be very chaotic around Imelda when she gets cunted. If Imelda has a partner, her Chosen One will always be them.
Imelda’s memory is crystal, and no matter what she did, she feels no shame. Why would she? She was only looking out for her bestie or lover, and if someone got offended over that, well then that’s their problem. She’s not responsible for other people’s emotional reactions, after all.
Duncan Hobhouse
Will boast about being able to outdrink Imelda, then throw up and pass out after two butterbeers. Best to move him outside, because he’s going to shit his pants.
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aethernightmare · 22 days
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#i'll be real i've been feeling some kind of way this week and needed this reminder.#the refusal by him to go to therapy is also a conscious choice.#the refusal to at least attempt to get sober is a conscious choice.#the refusal to still pin blame on you when you're not the addict and you didn't lie or cheat in the relationship is a choice.#the refusal to improve any area of their life (job - therapy - medication - better friends - an apology to those they hurt) is a choice.#so much of what i mourn is that my partner was genuinely a different person before the substance abuse.#i don't know who this current man is but it feels like a stranger who murdered my husband and stole his body.#because the man i loved might as well be dead. i don't even see glimmers of him anymore. not towards me or other people.#there's no comparison anywhere. not even in appearance.#i can't even know if he'd go back to the way he was if he got sober - because it was impossible to get him to quit more than 3 days.#if it wasn't alcohol it was weed. if it wasn't weed it was alcohol. often blended with days of not logging off mmos.#like none of these things in a vacuum are bad but his relationship to them at the expense of everyone and everything else was.#to this day he thinks i 'left him' when -in an inebriated rage - he told me to never talk to him again. so i haven't.#when he was the one who burned our bridges - so it's also his responsibility to improve and reach back out. even just as friends.#which he said he'd do - but never has.#he may not even remember some of the awful things he said and did to me at the end because he was always getting blackout intoxicated.#but as a result he thinks i was the one gaslighting Him when his memory was full of holes. because he thinks he's above being that affected#he probably thinks i'm manipulative for wanting him to get help and do these things.#but if he actually went to therapy (and was honest) or attend AA he'd see these are the professional steps - not ones i 'randomly made up'.#idk. some days are harder than others to deal with the absence and the silence and the trauma he left behind. today is one of the hard ones#a letter to my ex
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the-boy-meets-evil · 4 months
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all roads lead back to you | c.sc (scoups)
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(where you take an annual cabin trip with your friends and your ex decides to join this year)
pairing: ex!seungcheol (scoups) x f!reader genre: exes to lovers | angst, smut rating: explicit - minors DNI word count: ~10.6k warnings: these are exes and the relationship ended badly, but we're healing, drinking, midnight kisses, reader is mentioned as wearing a skirt & tights, making out, seungcheol picks reader up, body worship, slight nipple play, fingering (f. receiving), oral sex (f. & m. receiving), choking, cheol has a big dick (i don't make the rules), unprotected sex (they talk about it, but don't do this), multiple orgasms & overstimulation (f. receiving), aftercare
a/n: this is for @k-vanity's 25 tips for surviving the holidays. day 11 - cabin vacation. i'm not really sure what happened, something about scoups just makes me blackout and write too much (i only started this 2 days ago). also shoutout to @tbzhub for saying we'd do this together lmao. thank you to @gyuwoncheol, @wonwussy, & @wooahaeproductions for helping me land on cheol for this fic. also, just for fun, tagging some scoups enjoyers because i'm nothing if not a menace: @ugh-yoongi, @seungkwansphd, @wongyuseokie, @beomcoups, @horanghater, @cheolism
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The holidays are usually your favorite time of year. Sure, they’re really hectic and there’s always way too much to do without nearly enough time to do it. But, you still love it. Love being around friends and family. Love how everyone seems to acknowledge that any problems can wait for the new year. This is a time for joy and happiness. A time to celebrate all the wonderful things that did happen and leave the bad in the year you’re leaving behind. 
This time of year also brings around an annual trip that you take with friends. A trip to a secluded cabin where you can all just disconnect. Where you can sit by the fireplace and read. Where you can go to the nearby resort to ski or snowboard. Where you can drink hot cocoa and swap stories and just enjoy the company without the bustle of the city. It’s one of your favorite weekends every time the holidays roll around. 
Not this year. 
This year, your friends decide that they want to make the group a little bigger and spend a long weekend, including New Year’s Eve, together. Which is great, you’re single and there’s nobody else you’d rather ring the New Year in with. Except for one problem. Your ex is also coming. It’s been a little over a year since you broke up, so you know it’s time to move on. Moving on feels a lot harder when he decides he’s going to come to the cabin weekend again this year. It shouldn’t really surprise you. After all, you were friends before you dated. Didn’t think anything could stop you from being friends after. Didn’t actually think there would be an after, if you’re honest. And you’re definitely not going to be the one to back out or admit you’re still not really over it. 
So, that’s why you’re sitting in a car with Wonwoo, Jihoon, and Mimi, headed off to the cabins that your friends booked for an extended long weekend. You’re just thankful that Wonwoo offered you a spot in his car on the way up. Makes it a lot easier. Even if it means Jihoon and Mimi are currently in each other’s space in the backseat as she shows him something on her phone. It’s not that you mind how cute they are together, it’s just still weird to see Jihoon acting like that with anyone. She seems to have waltzed in and melted any defenses he had.
From his position in the driver’s seat, Wonwoo reaches over to squeeze your thigh. You look over at him, grateful for the reminder that you’re not alone in all of this. Grateful that he swore up and down to make sure you never felt awkward the whole weekend. Maybe it won’t be so bad, you think, as you queue up more songs for the drive. That’s the best part about being in the front seat. You get to control the music and Wonwoo started the trip by telling Jihoon and Mimi just to roll with it. Not that they’re paying all that much attention, but it was a nice thought all the same. 
The drive up is uneventful. Wonwoo navigates the winding back roads with a practiced ease. You sigh happily, taking in all the trees dusted with snow and the winter wonderland all around as you leave most of your troubles behind. There’s something almost refreshing about being out here. Like the air is crisper and everything is stiller. Wonwoo would make a smartass comment about how there’s more trees, less pollution, and a lot fewer people. So, of course all those things are true. You think it’s more, something about the magic of Christmas and the New Year. 
Your smile falls the second you pull up to the main cabin because you can see that Seungcheol’s car is already there. Figures he would not only drive, but beat you there. You try to set that aside, though, because the place is beautiful. It’s set up with a main cabin where you can hang out, cook, play games, or do whatever you want. Then, there are separate small cabins, mostly just with bedrooms and bathrooms, to sleep in. Nayeon, bless her, took care of figuring out the sleeping arrangements for everyone. At least that would be easy. 
Jihoon and Mimi are out of the car almost as soon as it stops, even if Jihoon grumbles about how his legs are stiff and the air is cold. It takes one smile from Mimi and he’s smiling back, grabbing their bags from the car to head for the main cabin. Meanwhile, Wonwoo adjusts his glasses and makes sure everything is turned off before getting out of the car to stretch. When he meets you at the trunk, his gaze is soft. 
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” he asks. 
You sigh and pull out your suitcase, with a little help from your friend. “No.” 
“We shouldn’t have come,” Wonwoo says.
“Just because I’m being a baby doesn’t mean you should’ve stayed away,” you reassure him.
“You’re not being a baby,” he says with a frown. 
“Still,” you press. “We’ve been broken up for a year. There’s going to be a lot of people here, it’ll be fine.”
“As long as you’re sure,” Wonwoo relents. “He didn’t bring anyone, did he?” 
“No, Nayeon said it’s just him. She’s worried about me too,” you say with a playful eye roll. “She’s got me staying in a cabin with you, her, and Joshua.”
“I’m glad we’re at least staying together,” Wonwoo says.
“I’m gonna be fine, Wonwoo, you worry too much,” you insist. 
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You get through the first night and breakfast the next morning without having to say a single word to Seungcheol. It’s been awhile since you last saw some of your friends, so there’s a lot to catch up on. The group is also pretty large, which makes it easier to blend in. Everything, even something as simple as making a meal, is kind of a process, too. You’ve always been pretty comfortable in the kitchen and offer to help cook. Seungcheol can’t say the same. It feels like maybe it’ll be smooth and you can just do your own separate things without it being a big deal. Like you can both just agree to give each other space during the trip and not be awkward.
That lasts until the afternoon on the first full day, unfortunately. 
Even though a lot of people take time off between Christmas and New Year’s, a decent portion of the group decides a Friday will still be less busy on the slopes. They want to get some runs in earlier in the day before whatever everyone wants to do later. Seungcheol, thankfully, was one of the first to say he wanted to go. Not surprising, you know he likes really anything where he can be active. Wonwoo was also quick to say he wanted to, after asking you if that was okay. You, again, insisted it was fine. 
You’re reading your book by the fire, periodically watching Jun, Nayeon, and Mimi play cards on the other side of the room, when Seungcheol comes hobbling back in. Minghao just behind him, scolding him for not waiting and ruining the peaceful atmosphere. 
“What’s wrong?” Nayeon asks, looking up from the game.
“Nothing, I’m fine,” Seungcheol says shortly.
“He rolled his ankle,” Minghao interjects. 
“Now you see why I stayed behind,” Jun says.
“I’m fine, really,” Seungcheol insists. 
“You should ice it just in case. And keep it elevated,” Minghao says as heads off to the kitchen. 
Trying to keep your face straight, you mark the page in your book and get up. All you want is for this to be as subtle as possible. But, Jun is also in the room.
“Where are you going?” Jun asks. 
“Oh, just back to my room to get something,” 
It’s a lie and you’re pretty sure they know it, but you also don’t care. You’re not going to stay in the room with an injured Seungcheol because he gets pouty when he can’t do exactly what he wants. This is going to be one of those times. There’s no way he’s going to be happy sitting still when he knows his other friends are still out on the trails. Especially when it’s such a minor thing. You hope that they all understand your decision to just let them deal with him and whatever he has to say.
When you feel like it’s been enough time, you venture back into the main cabin, portable charger in hand, for good measure. Not that you think anyone will ask what it is that you needed from your room, but it’s always a good idea to be prepared. Just in case. At first glance, you think the main living area is empty. That makes you sigh in a little relief. Not that you want to be alone when this is a trip for friends. It’s just nice to have a quiet moment in all the chaos. You think you’ll be able to get back to your book, at least for a little, until you notice someone laying on the couch. Not someone. Seungcheol. Quickly, you turn around, hoping he doesn’t see you. And it would probably work, if you didn’t bump into the corner of a table on your way out.
His head snaps up and swivels to look at you. “What - oh.” 
“Sorry, I was just leaving,” you say.
“Can you really not be in the same room as me?” he asks. He sits up so that he can look at you more easily.
“I’ve been in the same room as you plenty,” you point out.
“Not alone,” he persists. 
“What reason would we possibly have to be alone together?” you wonder. 
“You don’t have to be so…” he starts.
“So, what?” you press.
“So…like this,” Seungcheol finishes, somewhat lamely.
“How should I be?” you ask. 
“I don’t know, just, not like this. We were always comfortable with each other, even before…” he starts and stops suddenly.
“Before we dated? Before you shattered my heart? Before you decided it was easier to shut me out instead of just talking to me?” you ask, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. 
“I know,” he admits.
“You just abandoned me,” you say quietly. “I needed you and you weren’t there. I never would’ve left you like that.” 
“I know. I made so many mistakes. So many things I can’t take back,” he says. He actually looks remorseful. You’re not sure if that’s better or worse. “I’m so sorry for that. I would take it all back if I could. I’d do everything differently.”
“This was a mistake,” you say.
“Talking to me?” he asks.
“Coming on this trip at all,” you admit and turn away. “I have to go.” 
With your back to him, you miss the way his face falls at your admission. Don’t see the way he considers getting up to follow after you. It’s for the best, anyway. Your heart's already breaking again just from one conversation. Just from seeing the emotion on his face. The one face you thought you’d always know better than your own. It’s amazing how everything can change in a single moment. How something that took years to build, first as friends and then as a couple, can all come tumbling down in a second. A split second or a fork in the road. One wrong turn and it’s all gone. 
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You make it through to Saturday without any more forced conversations with your ex-boyfriend. Manage to sit on the opposite end of the table from him during meals. Wait until he commits to playing a game or watching something before you decide what to do yourself. Still, you feel very included in everything with different groups of your friends because there are plenty of people there to hang out with. If you take the forced conversation with him out of the equation, it’s actually been a pretty good trip, overall. Not nearly as hard as you expected it to be. 
“I’m gonna go check out the lodge at the mountain, anyone wanna come?” Wonwoo throws out. There’s a smattering of lukewarm responses. Mostly, people say they may hit the trails a little bit later after they’ve had a lazy morning.
“I’ll come,” you offer. 
“Shocking that you two are a pair,” Nayeon jokes from her spot on the couch, curled up with Joshua.
“That’s enough out of you,” you joke back before turning to Wonwoo. “I’ll go grab my coat.”
“Can you grab my hat? I think I left it in my room,” Wonwoo requests.
“Sure,” you agree. 
When you meet Wonwoo in the entranceway, you find your eyes back on the living area. Almost like you can feel someone watching you. But, when nobody is, you figure that you must have imagined it, not noticing the way Seungcheol’s jaw tightens or his mouth turns down in frown. He had just been looking and he wasn’t liking what he saw. Instead, having missed all that, you fall into step beside one of your closest friends and head out of the cabin.
“It’s not a far walk, but we can drive if you want,” Wonwoo offers, sticking his hands into his pockets.
“No, a walk would be nice. It’s not as cold today,” you say.
One of the best parts of being friends with Wonwoo is the sheer comfort you feel with him. It’s always been like this, since the beginning of your friendship. Always just as easy to say the hard things to him as it is to sit in silence. Always easy to avoid the hard things, because he seems to find it easy to to tell when you don’t want to say something. Unfortunately, it’s also easy for him to push you to speak, even when you’re not sure if you want to. Like now, as soon as you reach the Lodge. 
“Are you doing okay?” Wonwoo asks as the pair of you make your way over to a stand selling hot drinks. 
“I’m assuming you don’t mean from the walk over here,” you deflect while you look at the menu.
“No,” Wonwoo answers simply. 
“I’m fine,” you insist, stepping up to the counter. “Peppermint hot chocolate and whatever he wants.”
“You don’t have to…” Wonwoo starts, falling silent at the look you give him. He sighs, knowing you won’t relent. “Just a plain hot chocolate.” 
“Thanks,” you say as you pay.
“You’re not fine. I can see it on you,” Wonwoo says.
You pause when someone calls out your name for the order. “I really am doing fine. The only hard part was getting sucked into a short conversation with him yesterday.”
“What did he say?” Wonwoo asks. 
“Nothing much,” you say and meet Wonwoo’s eyes. You can tell you need to carry on. So, you recount the conversation as best as you can remember.
“He misses you,” Wonwoo surmises. 
“And if he does? What does it matter?” you ask.
“You miss him too,” Wonwoo points out. “That’s why it matters.”
“I don’t,” you argue. “He broke my heart.” 
“What happened? A year ago when you broke up, what happened?” Wonwoo asks.
“You know what happened,” you say with a sigh.
“No, I don’t. I know he left, somehow, but I don’t know what really happened. You’ve always kept that part of the story close to the vest,” Wonwoo says.
“Because it still hurts,” you plead. 
“Maybe it’s time you let someone else take a little of that pain by talking about it,” Wonwoo suggests. You find a table to sit down as you’re considering sharing.
Ultimately, it would be nice to get someone else’s perspective. To get someone who knows you both, and cares about you both, to weigh in on everything that happened. Even if Wonwoo seemingly took your side, you know he still talks to Seungcheol as well. With a steadying breath, you launch into the whole explanation, at least your side of it. It’s time, past time, honestly, that you get this off your chest.
It was great, at the beginning. The two of you were friends first, for years, before something shifted and you started to see each other differently. Suddenly stepping a little more carefully around each other. Not really knowing what to do or what to expect. Not sure if it would ruin the friendship to admit that there were feelings there. Until one day, Seungcheol finally made the move, asked you out on a date, and made sure you knew that’s what he was asking. It got very serious, very quickly. Far more quickly than either of you expected. But, that’s what happens when you start as friends. There are so many things you already know, so many things you don’t have to ask, so many memories already embedded into your relationship. Things were good. It wasn’t like they were perfect. There were little fights here and there, but nothing that felt that serious. Nothing that felt like a dealbreaker. 
It’s hard to admit, even to Wonwoo, that you saw Seungcheol as your forever. As someone you wouldn’t let go of once you had him. He was your safe space without ever being boring. Your protector without ever being one of those toxic assholes. Your biggest cheerleader without being condescending. It was way too early in the relationship to be feeling like he was your forever, so you didn’t ever say it to him, but you felt it. Felt it deep in your bones. He was also vulnerable with you in a way that he wasn’t with anyone else. At least anyone else that you’d seen. The first time he just let you take care of him, let you see him as something other than someone strong and in control, it made you fall even more deeply for him. It didn’t hurt that he nearly stopped your heart with how stupid hot he was. That gets a snort out of Wonwoo before you continue on. 
Suddenly, everything changed. Seungcheol withdrew into himself and stopped confiding in you. He could always be a bit moody, a little deep in his feelings. Still, he would always talk to you about it. Would always share with you what he was feeling. Sometimes it was something so simple as you getting a little too much attention, which he didn’t like. He could be a little jealous. It was something you worked on with him. Sometimes it was a conversation with a friend weighing heavily or something going wrong at work. No matter what, he always talked to you about it. Until he didn’t. Until he just stopped saying much of anything. Until he got a bit secretive with everything in his life and you didn’t really recognize him anymore. His phone was always turned over. Not fully paying attention to you when you were in group settings. Not making plans the way he used to.
“What did you do?” Wonwoo asks. 
“I confronted him,” you say. Simple. It was so simple. “I told him it wasn’t okay and that I deserved better. That we always got through things together and that we needed to get back to that.” 
“Mature of you,” Wonwoo says.
“I thought so,” you say and take a steadying breath. “He agreed, even. Told me that I did deserve better.”
“So what…” Wonwoo asks, but trails off. Obviously confused. 
“He said that it was too much. That he couldn’t give me the things I deserved. That I would be better off finding someone else who could,” you say and wipe away the stray tear. 
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know,” Wonwoo says. 
“I didn’t want you to. I didn’t want you to look at me like that,” you admit. “Like I was broken because someone didn’t want to love me.”
“You’re not broken,” Wonwoo insists softly, hand reaching out for one of yours. “You’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. But it’s okay to admit when you need help. Or when you need a friend.”
“I know,” you sigh. “It’s just hard.”
“I know, but I’m here,” Wonwoo assures you. 
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Saturday night finds Wonwoo and Seungcheol as the last two awake in the living room, finishing their drinks in relative silence. It used to be easy for Seungcheol, sitting with his friend like this. Yet, it hasn’t been, not in the last year since he broke up with you. Not since Wonwoo made it clear that they were friends, but he was sticking by you no matter what. Not that Wonwoo’s been cold or rude or anything. That would have made it easier, Seungcheol thinks. No, instead he’s been mostly the same. Still just as friendly and supportive. All it does is make him feel worse. Why can’t Wonwoo just say what’s really on his mind?
“How was the lodge earlier?” Seungcheol asks.
“Hmm?” Wonwoo asks, eyes seeming to come back into focus as they look over at him.
“The lodge? You went over there earlier. I was just asking how it was,” Seungcheol repeats.
“Oh, fine. We just ended up getting hot chocolate and talking. Kinda watched people coming and going from the trails,” Wonwoo says like it doesn’t matter. Maybe it doesn’t. 
“Are you two…are you…” Seungcheol starts and stops the question several times.
“Dating?” Wonwoo asks, taking pity on his friend. “No. She’s been single since…”
“I broke her heart?” Seungcheol supplies humorlessly. 
“I wasn’t going to say that.” 
“No? It seems like someone spending that much time with her would say that.” 
Wonwoo regards him for a second, adjusts his glasses like he’s buying time to think. “What happened? With you and her, what happened?”
“I’m sure you’ve already heard it from her.” The answer is short. Seungcheol doesn’t want to play these games, not with someone that’s so obviously close to you.
“I’m not asking to hear it from her. I’m asking to hear it from you,” Wonwoo presses. He’s insistent, but his eyes are soft. It’s easy to wonder if it’s time to share. 
“I got scared,” Seungcheol admits. “And jealous.” 
“Of what? Or of who?” Wonwoo asks.  Seungcheol takes a long sip of his drink and grimaces a little. He isn’t buzzed enough for this. Can’t really believe he’s entertaining sharing in the first place. But, well, isn’t this what he’s hoping for? Another chance?
“Of everything and everyone,” Seungcheol says. “She was so kind, so patient, so good to me. Good for me. Just the best person I’ve ever known. I just thought that one day, she’d wake up and she’d realize that she deserved more than me.”
Wonwoo shakes his head. “Why did you think that?” 
“I don’t know,” Seungcheol admits. “I guess, well I know I can be difficult. That I get in my head a lot. I know sometimes it’s hard to talk about what I’m feeling. She made a lot of that feel easier, which made me fall harder for her. But, then she makes a lot of people feel that way, doesn’t she? Like she’s the only one who will understand. I don’t even think I was the only friend of ours that had feelings for her. I just, I don’t know, it sounds so fucking dumb now, but I couldn’t compete.” 
“It wasn’t a competition, Cheol,” Wonwoo says.
“I know that,” Seungcheol insists.
Wonwoo fixes him with a stare. “Do you? She’s a lot of things, maybe a lot that make people interested in her. But, she chose you. She chose you and kept choosing you, every chance she got. I don’t think that ever would’ve changed.” 
“Do you want me to feel worse?” Seungcheol asks, voice rising a bit. “I already told her that I would go back and change things if I could, but I can’t.” 
“Do you still love her?” Wonwoo asks, voice so quiet. Yet, it carries all the same.
“Of course I do,” Seungcheol says.
“Then figure out a way to tell her,” Wonwoo replies.
“It’s not that easy,” Seungcheol says. “And aren’t you supposed to be telling me to leave her alone? As her friend?” 
Wonwoo rises from his seat. “It can be that easy, if you stop being your own worst enemy. And I’m your friend, too. It doesn’t seem like the chapter is really over for either of you yet.” 
Seungcheol sits and considers what his friend shared. Wonders if there might be something there. He barely registers as Wonwoo says goodnight and calls a goodnight in response. Then, he’s left with his thoughts again. Should he say something? Can he bring himself to say something? Or will you just shut it down again?
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New Year's Eve brings a snowstorm with it that has your group of friends deciding it’s best to just stay in the cabins instead of venturing out to the party they’re having at the lodge. There’s plenty of you for a party, plenty of food, and plenty of warmth, especially close to the fire. The snow falls lightly outside the windows, blanketing everything around with a fresh layer of powdery flakes. It’s not supposed to get truly heavy until much later in the evening. So, you can just get dressed up and have a party with everyone that’s familiar to you. No worrying about mixing with strangers and how they’ll impact the party.
When you and Mingyu go into the kitchen to take stock of what you have and plan out the food for the day, you realize that maybe you don’t have everything that you need after all. You could actually use more food and you definitely could use some champagne to toast with. It makes sense, though, you planned to go into the lodge to ring in the new year. Your smile when Wonwoo, Jihoon, and Joshua offer to go out and do a run is immediate and wide. You hand over a list of what you need (well, you text it to all three of them just to cover your bases) and they’re off into town. That lets you turn back to the kitchen, where Mingyu and Mimi are starting on an appetizer. You’re trying to figure out what you can work on when someone clears their throat. Your heart skips a little when you look up.
“Could I talk to you for a minute?” Seungcheol asks you, face more open than you’ve seen in a while.
It makes your mouth go dry. How are you supposed to turn him down when he’s asking in front of everyone like this? Like it’s just a totally normal thing to ask? All you can do is nod and avoid looking at anyone else around you. Just nod and follow him into a smaller side room off the main living area. 
“Thanks,” he says when they stop walking.
“What was I supposed to do? Make a scene?” you ask. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how else to ask you to talk,” he admits.
“I heard you,” you say, cutting across his words. He looks confused. “Last night? I heard you talking to Wonwoo. I left my charger in here and came back to get it.” 
“Oh,” is all he says.
“Oh?” you repeat.
“I wanted to actually tell you, not have you overhear me talking through things with someone else,” he says, mouth turned down like he’s upset.
“Then you should have just talked to me,” you press.
“I couldn’t! You won’t talk to me,” he says defensively.
“Not this weekend. A year ago, when it all happened,” you say quietly.
“I know,” he says. You expect him to look annoyed or defeated, but he only looks sincere. “I knew the moment you walked out that I fucked up and I’m so sorry. I’ve tried a hundred times since then to just talk to you, but the words never felt right.” 
“Cheol,” you plead. You’ve been waiting a year to hear this. Except, you finally feel like you’re starting to move past it all and this is only making it confusing. 
“Just, you don’t have to say anything, I just want you to hear me out,” Seungcheol pleads. “I know I have absolutely no right to ask you that, but I’m asking anyway.”
“Okay,” you say, barely above a whisper.
“I fucked up. I knew I did when you walked out, but it took me a while to realize just how bad. I didn’t just drive a partner away, I drove someone away that got through all my walls in a way nobody else ever has. I drove away the person that made me feel comfortable, that supported me even when I was being an idiot, that constantly showed up for me. I was afraid that I didn’t deserve you and always jealous of everyone else that paid attention to you. I thought one day you were gonna wake up and realize that there were better people out there that were less, I don’t know, emotionally closed off. I didn’t realize until way too late that you knew exactly what you brought to the table and what you deserved, but you picked me. I didn’t realize that it’s the only thing I ever needed, was you seeing all of me and picking me anyway,” Seungcheol says. 
“I don’t, that’s…” you trail off and shake your head to clear it. You’re trying to find the words when Nayeon pokes her head in.
“Hey, I’m so sorry to butt in, but Mimi just kicked me out of the kitchen. I was only offering because Mingyu said he needed help,” Nayeon says. “I think they need you.”
“Oh, um,” you start, kind of like a deer in headlights.
“You should go help him. I don’t want everyone hating me for keeping you from helping Mingyu,” Seungcheol says with a light chuckle at complete odds with the situation. 
“Thank you,” Nayeon says with a smile as she grabs your arm to whisk you away.
“Does Mingyu actually need me?” you ask.
“Huh? Yeah, he does,” Nayeon laughs. “I wasn’t trying to save you, you’re good enough at that on your own.”
“I don’t buy that,” you say, pulling both of you to a halt. Nayeon rolls her eyes.
“Fine, maybe I heard what he said to Wonwoo last night from Joshua and maybe I want you to at least consider what he has to say,” Nayeon admits. “I liked you together, sue me.”
“I just might,” you grumble, heading off to help Mingyu in the kitchen without Nayeon in tow.
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After dinner, you and Mingyu insist that you’re not getting anything, for anyone, for the rest of the night. And probably into tomorrow. Mimi got distracted part way through and disappeared for entirely too long with Jihoon. Which would be fine, but there were a lot of people to cook for and you needed all the help you could get. Joshua popped in and out, thankfully, but it was still tiring. The perk has been that you actually haven’t had to lift a finger since. Your drink stays full and someone is always willing to get you something to eat. That lets you settle in to play a game with the group.
The TV in the background steadily counts down as it gets closer to midnight. Occasionally, the performance draws your attention to watch. Mostly, you’re just drinking entirely too much. Somewhere, in the deep recesses of your brain, you know that you’re just trying to avoid thinking about everything Seungcheol said. Or trying to avoid thinking how good he looks tonight. It’s hard to stop yourself from lingering on the way his shirt clings to his chest. Has he been working out even more? Or the way his pants stretch tight across his thighs. Not for the first time, you shake your head to clear it, recross your legs, and focus on whatever game it is you’re playing. Ignore the look Wonwoo gives you from his place next to you. He certainly hasn’t missed your looks. (And nobody else really has, either, except for Jun. But, that’s just Jun for you.)
Everyone sets aside the games when it gets closer to midnight, milling around with varying amounts of energy instead of sitting still. You realize, even with any awkwardness from Seungcheol being there, you can’t think of anyone else you’d rather ring in a new year with. Surrounded by all of your favorite people, what else could anyone ask for? Well, except maybe a New Year’s kiss. As if on cue, your glance drifts over to Seungcheol. It’s a little surprising to find he’s already looking at you, smiling softly. It sends a surge of emotion through you to think of all the reasons you fell in love with him in the first place. When you turn away to take a sip of your drink, you find it’s empty. With midnight rapidly approaching, you really need a refill on the champagne. You’re about to go do that when a voice breaks into your thoughts.
“Here,” he says.
You turn to look at Seungcheol, now very firmly in your space, holding out a new glass of champagne. “Thanks.”
“I just noticed you were almost empty and figured you’d want it,” he offers.
“Yeah, I should make sure this one lasts,” you chuckle out.
The host on TV announces that there’s only a minute left. Everyone around you starts talking excitedly or getting closer to their partners, if they have them. Jokingly, you told Wonwoo that he would be your New Year’s kiss. Now, that’s the last thing on your mind. Seungcheol hovers close by. When you look over at him, though, his eyes are on the TV, counting down along with the host when it gets to ten seconds.
“HAPPY NEW YEAR!” 
Everyone shouts together and starts clinking glasses. Hugging their friends or kissing their partners. Your body makes the decision for you when you turn to the man next to you and cheers his glass. As he starts to turn away, you grab his arm and pull him into you. Press your lips against his before either of you can figure out what’s happening. He recovers from his surprise quickly and wraps his free arm around your waist to pull you against his chest. It’s familiar and also somehow completely new at the same time. 
Breathless. That’s what you feel when you pull away and cheers with other friends. You throw your arms around Nayeon and press a kiss to Wonwoo’s cheek. Pointedly ignore any looks or raised eyebrows about your decision to kiss your ex in a room full of all your friends. It’s fine. Everyone is doing fine. You’re definitely thankful that someone suggests a game and you can all go back to celebrating without talking about the elephant in the room. A very different elephant than when you first got to the cabins. 
There’s another massive difference, too. Instead of sitting on the fringes or carefully leaving space, Seungcheol plops down right next to you. Lets his arm rest along the back of the couch. His arm isn’t around you, but it could be with the slightest adjustment. Several of your friends look at you with the question in their eyes. You avoid all of them, like the true adult you are, and focus, instead, on the warmth of Seungcheol’s thigh when it presses into yours. Actually, you avoid drinking any more, either. The whole night has been a little confusing (read: a lot confusing) and you don’t need an alcohol haze adding to that. It doesn’t escape your notice that he stops drinking as well. 
When you start to get a little tired, you excuse yourself to the kitchen, claiming you need a snack and don’t know what you want. A minute later, Seungcheol appears on the other side of the island. Leaning casually against it like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Like he hasn’t sent your entire world into a spiral. Like he’s not still one of the hottest people you’ve ever seen in your life.
“So, uh, I don’t wanna assume anything…” he starts and you hold up a hand.
“I’m going to excuse myself in a minute to go to bed. Give it a few minutes and then come to my room,” you say, walking around him without waiting for a response. 
When you tell the group that you’re going to turn in for the night, you do your best not to meet anyone’s eyes. You’re not naive enough to think you’re fooling anyone. Not that you even want to. It’s just, well, you want this time to figure out what’s happening. It’s a little hard to do that when you know everyone’s eyes are on the two of you. There’s the tiniest bit of you holding onto the hope that you can pass it off as you being overwhelmed by the kiss at midnight. Like you didn’t just tell him to meet you in your room.
Back in your room, you shrug off your jacket and sit down on the bed. The seconds seem to drag by waiting for him to show up. For a second, you wonder if he’s actually going to show up at all. You stop those thoughts in their tracks. He had a lot to say and he kissed you back. Then, he spent the rest of the night pressed up close to you. He’s going to show up. Before you can spiral further, there’s a knock at the door. You’re halfway to the door when it opens a crack and Seungcheol peeks his head inside. 
“Can I come in?” he asks, looking unsure for the first time since before you kissed him. 
“I did ask you to come to my room,” you joke.
“I was a little surprised,” he admits.
“Me too,” you agree. 
He shuts the door behind him, allowing you to really look at him for the first time all weekend. To take in his appearance, as he removes his jacket, without any other eyes on your. Or anyone analyzing the interaction. To just appreciate the man you fell in love with. His hair is a little shaggy and blond, a color you don’t remember seeing on him before. He catches you looking, but instead of a smirk, there’s only a smile. Hopeful and genuine. It’s a little overwhelming to have him in your space. To know you need to talk. To know there’s so much to work through.
Instead, in the only move you can think of, you close the distance, wrapping your arms around his middle. He doesn’t even miss a beat. Just wraps his arms around you, erasing any last bit of space between you. It feels calm, familiar. Like no time has passed. Like you’re not different people now. He kisses the top of your head, so soft you think it might shatter any resolve you have left. 
“I’m sorry I kissed you in front of everyone without talking to you,” you mumble into his shirt.
“I’m not,” he quickly reassures you.
“I really fucking want to kiss you again,” you admit, still talking into his shirt rather than looking at him.
“Then,” he starts, moving a hand to tilt your chin up, “what are you waiting for?” 
“We probably should talk,” you say.
“You’re right,” he sighs.
Except, do you really want to talk right now? Do you really want to stop yourself from kissing him again? You stopped drinking so your head would be clear enough to make this decision. You’re just a little sick of overthinking everything this weekend. Sensing the indecision, Seungcheol presses a feather light kiss to your lips. Enough to make the decision, while also being light enough that you could easily pull away. 
You do, just for a second. “Fuck it, let’s talk tomorrow.” 
Your lips crash back against Seungcheol’s, hungry and desperate, arms wrapped around his neck. It makes him tilt down a little so that you can press against him. There’s no hesitation on his end, either. You find yourself wondering if he was always this good at kissing or if he’s gotten better since you broke up. Or maybe it just means more the second time around. When he picks you up, you gasp into the kiss. Wrap your legs around his waist to feel a little steadier. Not that you think he would ever let you fall. It’s easier than you expected to fall back into this kind of trust with him. 
It’s like you both want to go fast, yet also take your time. Seungcheol deposits you on the bed, then takes his time removing your shoes. Toes his off a little more quickly. You go to remove some of your layers, only to have his hands stop you. He’s so slow, removing the sheer top with painstaking care. Kissing along your skin as he exposes it. The amount of attention makes you squirm. You’re prepared for something quick and dirty. Something more like a one-night stand. You’re not prepared for him to worship your body as he exposes more of your skin. Part of you feels really exposed, because he’s still fully dressed, as he carefully unhooks your bra. The way he looks at you, like you’re the only person in the world he’s ever wanted, makes your heart ache. Makes you second guess if this is right. 
“We can stop. We don’t have to do this,” he whispers into your skin. 
You grab his face so that you can look him in the eyes. There’s something in you that just needs to gauge him for a minute. Needs to really know what decision you’re making. There’s so much love there, so many unspoken words, so much sincerity. Maybe you’re not over him at all. Maybe he meant everything he said.
“No, I want this. Want you,” you assure him. 
His eyes sparkle a little. There’s no time to dwell on it, though. His mouth is on your skin again. Kissing the spot on your neck that he knows drives you crazy. Kissing the beauty mark on your shoulder. Kissing across your collarbone. When he works his way down to your nipples, he’s not being so soft anymore. He pinches one between his fingers without warning.
“Fuck, Cheol,” you hiss. 
“Too much?” he asks. You don’t need to look at him to know he’s smirking, but you do anyway. That knowing smirk sends desire coursing through you.
“You’re such a little shit,” you whine. 
He pinches the same nipple again. Watches you as he flicks his tongue over the other. Actually smiles when you arch into his mouth. “You don’t seem to mind it.” 
You wind your hand into his hair in response, pull a little harder than normal. He groans against your breast, sending a little vibration into your skin. “You don’t seem to mind a little pain, either.” 
There’s no answer. Not that you need it. One of his hands moves down your body, mouth still focusing on your chest, until he gets to your thigh. Your skirt is bunching up around hips from squirming on the bed. “How much do you like these tights?”
You look down at the sparkly tights you bought just for the party. That you’ll probably never wear again. “I mean, they’ve got sparkles. Wasn’t planning to wear them again.” 
“Good,” he says. 
You’re expecting him to rip them on the spot. Instead, he returns his mouth to yours, kissing you hard, and lets a finger run over your entrance, through both tights and underwear. It’s not enough. There’s entirely too much fabric in the way. He’s teasing you, he has to be. There’s no other reason that explains this kind of torture. 
“Jesus, Cheol, please,” you beg. 
“What are you trying to do to me?” he groans. Seems like he still likes it when you beg for something.
In either case, he carefully rips a hole in your tights, too focused on you to figure out pulling them down. Seemingly in one motion, your underwear is pushed to the side and he’s got a finger running up your entrance. Feeling that you’re turned on from the way he’s been kissing all over your body. Thankfully, you don’t have to beg again. At least, not yet. He presses his fingers at your mouth and you suck them in eagerly. Swirl your tongue around them. He almost looks reluctant when he withdraws them to press one inside your cunt. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet for me,” he groans. 
“Forgot how good your fingers felt,” you answer, squirming underneath him.
“Bet I could make you come just on my fingers,” he says as he adds a second one.
“Fuck,” you draw out. He’s not being gentle with you anymore. “Then you don’t get to taste me. And we both know how much you love that.”
He leans in closer, you’re assuming to kiss you. Instead, his lips find your ear. “Who says I can’t do both?” 
You bite down on your fist to keep from screaming out when he thrusts faster. Try your best to hold on when his thumb brushes over your clit. All you want is to prove him wrong. Prove that you can hold on and that you’re not putty in his hands. Except, your body remembers. It remembers just how good he makes you feel. Remembers how well he knows what makes you crazy. Nobody has ever known your body like him. And it’s a little annoying. With his fingers inside you, it’s easy to realize that nobody feels as good as him. You could never get yourself off like he could.
It’s an embarrassingly short time before you’re coming on his fingers, fighting not to scream out. Trying anything you can not to make it more obvious just why you decided it was time to head to bed. Seungcheol guides you through the high as you fall back into the bed, sinking deeper into the mattress. After a moment, you prop yourself up to watch him remove his shirt. You’re no longer the only one that’s overexposed. Then again, you don’t feel exposed being half naked around him. It only feels comfortable. Once he removes his shirt, he moves back to your body. Actually takes the time to remove your tights and underwear now. His breath ghosts across your cunt. That action alone is enough to send a little shiver through your body. You’re definitely sensitive. 
Seungcheol positions himself between your legs and looks up when you suck in a breath. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”
He’s so pretty like this. You’ve always thought that. Pushing his hair out of his eyes and looking up at you from underneath his lashes like he’s never seen anyone more beautiful in his life. So caring. The little bit of caution you get from him in the middle of him ruining you. You clear your throat to remember he asked you a question. “Yes, Cheol. With you, always.” 
It’s immediately more honest than either of you are expecting. Instead of breaking the moment, though, it seems to spur him on. The kind smile dissipates into something much more confident. He spreads you open and looks up for a last time before his tongue licks a strip up your entrance. It doesn’t matter how long it’s been since the last time he was between your legs, your entire body remembers. It’s like muscle memory. The way your back arches. The way your hand knots in his hair. The way the praises fall from your lips. You’re sensitive. So fucking sensitive. And he knows. It’s always been one of his favorite things with you. Pushing you to the edge and then over again.
“God, I forgot how fucking good you taste,” he says when he takes a breath. 
“Well maybe, fuckkkk,” you start before cutting out. 
For once, he’s not a demon. He doesn’t ask what you were about to stay. Just keeps alternating between fucking his tongue into you and sucking your clit into his mouth. It’s too much and not enough all at once. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire. When his nose bumps against your clit as he’s buried deep in your pussy, you lose it again. Come all over his tongue and his face. Come harder than you remember coming in a really long time. If he notices, he doesn’t say anything. 
By the time the last shock works through your body, he’s laying next to you on the bed. You can’t help it. You have to lean over and kiss him. Want to taste yourself on his lips. It’s almost like you need that to know this is all real. That it’s all happening and it’s not just some weird, horny dream. (It’s not like that would be a first, either. You’ll never admit it, but you’ve thought a lot about him since you broke up. Especially when you were horny and needed a release. That’s your business, though.)
“Fuck, Cheol,” you utter when you pull away from the kiss.
“I’ve missed hearing my name on your lips,” he admits. “Specially when you call me Cheol.” 
“I’ve missed saying it,” you share, equally honest. 
You’re a little weak already. It’s hard to imagine what tomorrow is going to be like. But, you move down the bed anyway. Seungcheol tracks you with his eyes as you position to undo his pants. He moves his hips up to help you pull both his pants and briefs down. His stare as you pull your skirt down and discard it at the side of the bed is almost possessive. It sends something through your body. 
It’s your turn to remind him that he’s not the only one who remembers. You also remember just what drives him crazy and just how to get him going. You remember every place he likes to be kissed. So, you start there. Run your lips along every part of his body, like you’re committing him to memory again. As if you could ever forget anything about him. You delight in the sounds you pull from him just with your kisses. Maybe he knows, though, that you’re working your way down. 
“So hard just from getting me off,” you comment. 
“Because I know that nobody can make you come like I can and it’s fucking hot,” he answers.
It’s the same answer he’s always given and something about the familiarity makes you bolder. Even though you know there’s a conversation for tomorrow, it feels like the easiest thing you’ve ever done. You take his dick in your hand, run a finger over the tip and feel a little bit of the precum there. When you lick a stripe up the underside of his shaft, he shudders. Closes his eyes for a second before they snap back open to watch you. He’s always been like this. Always wanting to watch. This time is no different as you slowly take him into your mouth. You know he wants to fuck into your face, know you’d let him. But, you’re thankful he doesn’t. Even if you remember, he’s still big and thick inside your mouth. You need the time to get used to him. Once you do, though, you start to bob. Slowly, at first, before you let him take control. Relax your throat and let him find purchase in your hair. Encourage him to jerk his hips up as you keep your eyes on him as much as possible. You know how much it drives him crazy, even as the tears form and you gag a little 
“Fuck,” Seungcheol utters. 
He pulls you off his cock and up to his face so that he can kiss you. This is your favorite version of him. When he’s needy and desperate and completely putty in your hands. Like he can’t possibly imagine being anywhere that you aren’t. It’s when you know that you’re not crazy, that he’s just as far gone for you as you are for him. 
“I really need to fuck you,” he says. His lips are swollen from kissing you and his pupils are completely blown. “Fuck, I don’t have a condom on me.” 
“It’s fine, I’m still on the pill and I haven’t been with anyone since you,” you say. 
That seems to catch him off guard. “You haven’t?”
“No,” you answer.
“I haven’t either,” he admits.
“Then, we’re fine. I trust you,” you tell him. 
“Thank god, I really miss being inside you,” he breathes out.
“Think you just miss me,” you grumble as you reposition to straddle his lap.
“You and that smartass mouth of yours,” he retorts.
“I’m about to ride you, Seungcheol, and you just fucked my smartass mouth. So, maybe, pipe down,” you warn him.
This has always been your dynamic, swapping back and forth for who’s in control. As much as he says he likes control, you know he likes giving it up to you just as much. You know that he hasn’t ever let anyone else be in control apart from you. He looks up at you as you position yourself over him. There was a time when you hated this position. Felt really self conscious about how you must look from this angle. The second you admitted it to him, he was quick with his praise. Assuring you that you’re beautiful to him and there’s nothing to worry about.
He stops you before you lower yourself onto him. Puts his fingers in your mouth again and you obey without a second thought. Then, he runs his fingers along your entrance. Slides a finger in before quickly adding a second. It’s an awkward angle, but you get what he’s trying to do. Appreciate that he wants to make sure you’re at least a little prepped. When he pulls his fingers out, you’re only a little embarrassed at the moan that slips through your lips. If you completely ignore the smirk that he throws your way, well, who can blame you? The smirk is gone a second later when you finally lower yourself onto him.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans. 
You know him so well. You know his instinct is to buck his hips up into you. You know it’s hard for him to let you adjust. But, you also know that he wants to be gentle, even if it’s just for a moment. 
“I forgot how good you felt, jesus fuck,” you moan out. 
“Please, I need to feel you move,” he begs. It’s nice, when he’s the one to beg for something.
And who are you to deny him anything he asks for when he sounds so pretty asking? You do move, entirely too slowly. You need to find your rhythm, though. Need to find some place to anchor your hands. They settle on his chest, at first, and you actually can’t believe how much muscle he has there. He’s always liked to work out. Always wanted to be in shape. This is even more than that. You’re still appreciating the way his chest feels when he grabs one of your hands. Without a word, he moves it to his neck.
“Are you sure?” you ask.
He nods. It’s been awhile since you choked him, even lightly, but it turns you on. It’s easy to see that it turns him on, too. As you apply a little bit of pressure, his fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips. You do everything that you can to pick up the pace. To move faster on top of him. It doesn’t take very long until he’s planting his feet so that he can set the pace. He takes over the rhythm and it gets a lot harder. Bodies slapping together with each movement.
“Fuck, Cheol,” you say, trying not to scream. 
You move your hand from his neck so that you have a better grip. He’s moving too fast for you to feel comfortable that you won’t press too hard into his neck. It’s insane, you know that it’s insane, but you already feel like you’re getting close again. You start to clench around Seungcheol, making the stretch feel that much more intense. 
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come if you do that,” he groans. 
“Then do it,” you force out. “Wanna feel it inside me.”
“Jesus,” he groans. 
Everything happens so fast. You can feel him everywhere and your body is on fire. He’s still fucking hard into you, but he’s also rubbing your clit. Helping you get there with him. Somehow, he doesn’t seem to realize you’re already on the verge of your third orgasm. Oversensitive and overstimulated. Your body starts to shake and it’s hard to keep yourself upright on top of him. 
“Fuck, Cheol, I’m coming,” you hiss out. 
“I’m about to come too, fuck,” he answers. 
His thrusts get a lot more erratic and you feel him let loose inside you. You feel the way he moves to try and support you even while he’s working through his own release. When he stills, you collapse forward onto his chest. Breaths shallow and heavy. Your whole body’s exhausted, yet so happy at the same time. Carefully, you pull yourself off him. You’re sure a little bit of cum slides out with the loss of his cock inside you. Not that you care. 
It’s several minutes of silence. Seungcheol lays on his back and you’re on your side next to him. It might be a mark of how much he really did miss you that he doesn’t flinch when you start tracing patterns onto his stomach. It’s not like you just stop being ticklish. Eventually, you realize you need to get up. The last thing you want is to go to bed crusty. 
“Come on, I got lucky and I have an attached bathroom,” you say when you get up off the bed. You reach a hand to him and smile when he takes it without question. 
It’s quiet again as you help clean each other up. A comfortable kind of quiet. The way it used to be. This is another favorite of yours with him. Aftercare has always been his thing. No matter how rough he is with you in bed, he’s impossibly gentle when he cleans you up. It makes your heart ache a little because you’re so fond. It’s a weird mix of feelings.
“We should sleep in my room tonight,” he says. 
“We’re already here,” you point out. 
“With sheets that are probably soaked,” he teases back. 
“What are the chances we can get to your room without being seen?” you wonder. 
He shrugs. “It’s late. Probably better than the chances nobody heard us.” 
Your cheeks flush a little. Sure, you definitely tried to be quiet. You’ll have to wait until the morning to see if you succeeded. 
“Come on, my room has a door to the outside,” he says. 
So, you follow. You put your layers back on and grab something to sleep in. And you don’t actually see anyone before you’re safely tucked away in his room. That night, falling asleep tangled up in Seungcheol, is the best night of sleep you’ve gotten in a long time. 
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Morning comes and brings with it the need for an actual conversation. As you stretch in bed, you appreciate the soreness in your body with a smile. Anything you’re feeling now is surely worth it. That is, until you realize you’re in bed alone. Dread creeps in. Could last night really have meant something different to Seungcheol than it did to you? Did you just make a massive mistake? You’re starting to wonder if you’re only going to break your own heart this time, with nobody else to blame, when the bedroom door opens. Seungcheol steps inside with a thermos and a bag that looks like it might have some of the pastries Wonwoo brought back from the store yesterday.
“You’re awake,” he says with a smile. He sets down the thermos and removes his jacket to hang it up. 
“I was worried you’d left,” you admit when he finishes taking off his shoes and sits next to you. His face looks hurt for a second before it settles. 
“No, I just went to get coffee and figure out what we were walking into before you got up,” he says. 
“And?” you prompt. 
He pulls out a pastry and hands it over. “Nayeon asked where I slept last night and if I knew where you were. I don’t think she heard anything, but who knows with her? Wonwoo wasn’t in the main area, so I don’t know. They said they all knew I was following you, though.”
“Guess we can’t really avoid it,” you joke. 
You’re expecting him to smile, too. Instead, his face is serious. “Do you want to? Avoid it, I mean.”
It makes you serious. Maybe a little too honest. “I don’t want to get hurt again.”
“I don’t expect you to believe me, not right away, but I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you,” he says and takes your hands in his. “If you give me another chance, I’m never letting you walk away from me again. I’ll prove that I’m worth everything you give me.”
“You’ve always been worth it, Cheol,” you tell him. 
“I realize that now,” he agrees. “I also realize it’s up to you to know what you deserve and what you want. That wasn’t ever my decision to make and I’m really sorry for doing that to you.”
“It hurt, for sure, but not having you around hurts so much worse,” you admit. It’s hard to meet his eyes, even though you know you’re safe. 
“It hurts so fucking bad. I hate it. Last year was the worst year of my life,” he says. 
“You got a massive promotion, though! Wonwoo told me,” you say. 
“This is going to sound so cheesy, but I’m done caring. That promotion didn’t mean shit without you being there to share it with,” he shares with you. 
“I guess we’ll have to celebrate it this year,” you say. 
His face lights up. “Really?”
“I want to give us another chance. I don’t think either of us are over it,” you acknowledge. “Last night aside, I want to take it slow. I want to take our time instead of rushing in like we did the first time around. I want to get it right this time.”
He nods immediately. “We can go as slow as you want. I mean it. I’m not letting you go again.”
“Good, because I don’t think we should wait to see if the third time’s the charm,” you joke. 
“I’m glad I came this year,” he says as he grabs the thermos. 
“Me too,” you agree. 
It’s funny, you think, how someone can feel so familiar and yet so new at the same time. Seungcheol feels like home, like your favorite sweater, or like curling up with a book by the fire in winter. But, he feels entirely new, too. Like maybe you both changed over the past year. Maybe you both grew into the people you needed to be to love each other better. To love each other right. Later, you’ll have to break the bubble and face your friends. Right now, though, you can just appreciate that this silly little cabin trip brought you peace. 
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this was a lot of fun to write and i hope you liked it 💕
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sxcret-garden · 4 months
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Ateez when they're jealous ღ NSFW Edition [M]
ღ Ateez all members x fem-bodied!reader ღ genre: smut, headcanons (dom-sub dynamics in some parts, semi-public sex in some parts, most of them get more or less possessive) ღ warnings: alcohol consumption in some parts
Author's note: Maybe I went a liiiittle overboard with this.... maybe I'm also very tempted to turn one of these into a full fic....
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Hongjoong:
He's usually one to deal with his jealousy in a very adult manner and simply talk it out with you. However, after coming home jealous one day and having what was probably the best sex in your relationship up until that point, you've made an arrangement to deal with your jealousy in the bedroom. So it's really become more of a game to him than a pestering feeling to get rid of asap. And today as well, after you've spent a little too much time (in his opinion) having a very engaged conversation with the cute waiter of your regular place to get dinner, Hongjoong can't wait to get home and to drag you off to his bed. And that's exactly what he does, as you're filled with expectation because you didn't exactly miss the evil smirks he's been giving you throughout dinner, and you could guess what would be coming once you're home. He's moving slowly as he crawls on top of you, brushing his lips against yours in teasing kisses, and then telling you to strip naked for him. Will be the biggest little shit ever as he touches you in all the ways he knows will rile you up, and has you cursing underneath him when he pulls his fingers out of you just as you're about to cum. "You're gonna have to beg for it, babe," he whispers, licking his fingers clean. "I'm not gonna let you cum until I know you can't take it anymore."
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Seonghwa:
Is so shocked when after weeks of suffering he finally figures out that seeing you with your male best friend makes him jealous, that he impulsively decides to get (almost blackout) drunk. What he forgot to consider was that you were scheduled to make dinner with him at his place, and so when you walk in on him having downed what's probably his third bottle of soju you're definitely mad at him. Wondering whether it'd even make sense to try to reason with your drunk boyfriend, you do eventually end up scolding him, but the second you're within reach he pulls you down onto his sofa, crawling on top of you. He's blushing from the alcohol, and usually you'd have found that cute, but today the cold stare he gives you makes you shiver. Worriedly, you ask what's wrong with him, and finally he explains. "I'm jealous. Like really jealous of your best friend. And drinking it away wasn't the best choice but right now I just need to make you mine." You're not sure if you should be impressed how in control he is for the amount he drank or if you should just be insanely turned on by his words, but when you give him permission with a nod it's not like he leaves you any time to think about this further anyway. Has you both naked in no time and pins you down as he fucks you rough, and if you think he'll be satisfied with giving you just one or two orgasms that night, you couldn't be more wrong.
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Yunho:
Doesn't get jealous ever, except for that one time when you had only just started dating and were still in a bit of an awkward phase of figuring everything out together. Now usually he doesn't mind you going out to see your other guy friends, he has no reason to worry about that because he trusts you to never betray him. However, who he doesn't trust is that one guy who very obviously has a crush on you and he wouldn't put it past him to try to steal you away. And so he even went so far as to warn you about it, but you just brushed it off, defending the other guy and saying he's just a friend. And well, when one night your boyfriend witnesses how that guy drops you off at Yunho's place and he's being just a little too touchy before he hugs you goodbye, that's when the jealousy sets in. Needless to say he's upset when you walk inside, and not knowing what to do with that feeling, he simply kisses you. And it's a passionate kiss filled with need, the kind of kiss you've never received from your boyfriend up until that point. Yet he takes the lead, and soon he pushes you up against a wall, hands roaming your body and his lips nipping at your throat. "I don't ever want to see that guy touching you like that again," he mutters, rolling his clothed hard on against your hips, making you throw your head back. "You're mine and nobody else's." When he feels you going limp in his hold and all you can do is agree and whine at his touch, he takes you right then and there, proving to you that nobody could ever make you feel as good as he can.
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Yeosang:
When he's jealous he needs reassurance above all else, especially towards the beginning of your relationship. The only problem is that he's kinda slow at figuring out that he's jealous, and so it's often you who picks up the cues before he does. And you know he tends to get sulky and avoidant when he feels bad but can't quite put his finger on why, so one day you decide to try to help him out of that. And so you approach him, telling him straightforward that you want to have sex with him. And pulling him out of his bubble takes a while of hesitation from his side, but when you take him by the hand to walk him to your bedroom, he doesn't protest. Crawling on top of him and making out with him, you wait until you can feel him somewhat relax underneath you. Your fingers of one hand tangled in his hair while the other roams his toned upper body has him melting underneath you, and just then you ask him whether he's jealous, in the sweetest tone you can muster. "I... I think so," he mumbles. "Do you need me to prove to you that I only want you?" you ask, and Yeosang nods. And you'd be surprised how quickly he can go from desperately clinging to you as you get him off slowly, humming praises for your boyfriend, to him flipping your positions around and with a "Sorry, I need this now" he starts thrusting into you, hard and slow. The pace as well as him suddenly taking charge of the situation makes you see stars, and his desperate but possessive groans could make you cum right then and there.
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San:
Seems more helpless than anything else the second he comes back from picking up some takeout coffee for the both of you when he sees a complete stranger flirting with you, and you doing nothing to ward the guy off. And of course he'd be jealous at the sight, but he decides to play the tough guy for now, telling the guy off as he approaches. "Dude, what are you doing flirting with my girlfriend?" He puts an emphasis on his last word, and his voice sounds darker than usual. And though the stranger leaves immediately and you two continue your date as usual, something's off about San once you arrive home. Dragging you off to the bedroom by the sleeve of your shirt, he doesn't say anything and doesn't let you see his face right until he has you pinned to the bed, hovering above you and pressing a fiery kiss to your lips. Clothes don't stay on for long, and when he finally has his hips snapping into you, you have to slow him down from how rough he's being. "Fuck, that guy pissed me off," he mutters as he buries his face in your neck, leaving his mark there. When he has you coming undone underneath him, he doesn't stop, continuing to fuck you towards your next high, and your head starts to spin when you hear his next words, growled into your ear, "Don't ever flirt with another man again. Don't even look at someone else, or do you think anyone else could ever fuck you this good?"
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Mingi:
Well if he isn't a wild card idk what. Gets jealous rather easily, and from him sulking like a kid to him taking charge and dragging you off to the nearest secluded space, anything could happen. It entirely depends on his mood that day, and a bit on the situation too. Mingi definitely needs you to comfort him if it's the former option, but the good news is that he'll be fine rather quickly after you assure him he has nothing to worry about. However, after you've been dating for a while and he's internalized that you're not gonna let someone else take you away from him, that helplessness soon turns into anger at whatever guy is flirting with you. And so one night when you're out with friends, all being a bit tipsy and this one guy just won't stop giving you all of his attention, Mingi eventually shoots up from his seat and drags you to the restrooms without an explanation. Kisses you feverishly after locking up the stall he entered with you, and only when you ask him what's wrong he gives you an explanation. "I don't like the way that guy looks at you. It pisses me off," he hisses, before going right back to kissing you. His hand finding your core underneath your clothes in no time, he starts fingering you, even teasing you about how you're already wet for him, and eventually he'll flip you around so he can grind his clothed bulge against your ass as he gets you off, relishing in the way you're desperately trying to suppress all noises.
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Wooyoung:
Big switch energy so this can go one of two ways, but after the initial deep conversation you had about jealousy and how you can trust each other despite that feeling sometimes arising, the one thing that's for sure is that you're gonna resolve it with sex.  Even when the jealousy is barely even there, just like earlier today when you had commented to your boyfriend on how handsome one of Wooyoung's friends looks in his latest insta post, he doesn't miss the opportunity to seek proof that at the end of the day you only have eyes for him.  "And what about me?" he'll asks as he walks up to you from behind, hands put on your waist and his lips ghosting above your neck. The tone of his voice gives his intentions away immediately, and it doesn't take long for him to spin you around in his hold so he could kiss you, dragging you off to the nearest surface to have sex with you on (whether that's the bed, the sofa, or the dining table he doesn't care). And it really all depends on your mood whether he'll pin you against it, making you beg for him until he's satisfied, or put all the power into your hands and let you have his way with him until he's the one whining for your touch. One way or the other, the reason for his jealousy will soon be forgotten, because now all that matters is you and him chasing pleasure together.
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Jongho:
You're at a party hosted by a mutual friend of yours, and from the moment you dressed up at home you've known that your outfit choice today is doing something to your boyfriend from the looks he's been giving you. You like the attention, you're not gonna lie, and you can imagine what this night will lead to once you're back in the comfort of your own home, after making him stare at you all evening. However, what you didn't expect were the death glares he's been giving one of your male childhood friends who's been occupying you ever since you walked into that party. You know Jongho isn't the type to get jealous easily, but when he does he usually struggles with expressing it. However, you also know your boyfriend will usually do the right thing anyway, and so when he pulls you into the empty kitchen and locks the door behind himself, you expect him to simply tell you about his feelings. What you certainly do not expect is him backing you up against a counter with a possessive stare glued to your lips. "What's wrong...?" Kisses you instead of answering your question and makes your head spin from the way he runs his hands down your body alone. There's need and anger behind his actions, and in no time he has you pressed up against the kitchen counter, facing the wall now, both your pants and underwear pulled down just enough so he could fuck you from behind, teasing you with just his tip until he has you begging for more, and this really is just what he needed to alleviate his unnecessary feelings of jealousy...
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bet-on-me-13 · 5 months
Text
Danny is Cass's brother
So! Back when David Cain was making his "Perfect Weapon", he came across a complication.
Lady Shiva, the woman who was set to give him his Weapon, was pregnant with Twins.
He decided that the Spare was useless to him, and that he needed to devote all his time to the Weapon. He was about to give it up, or maybe just dispose of it, when he decided that it was fine to keep it. A Spare is still a Spare after all, if the Weapon ever failed or died, he could start from scratch.
So, Danny was raised for the first 8 years of his life as a Spare Weapon. He didn't get the same rigorous training that Cass did, as she was the main focus, but he was still trained in the basics. Even a Spare Weapon need maintenance after all.
Then, when he was 8, Cass broke into his Cell Room and ran from the Base with him. She knew that once she escaped, Danny would be the next one to suffer, so she took him as well.
Unfortunately, they got seperated somewhere in Illinois when they got caught by some of David's mercenaries.
Cass kept going, running all across the country before ending up in Gotham at 15 (1 year earlier than normal). There, she got adopted by Bruce Wayne and became the Vigilante, Orphan. She never stopped looking for her brother, but at the very least she knew that he must have escaped David Cain's men. They were focused specifically on her after all.
Cass had enlisted the help of her new Family to search for him. DNA tracking, Facial Recognition, even asking some of their Underworld Contacts for information.
Unfortunately, they had no leads. Until one day when one of their Facial Recognition Programs finally picks up on a Match.
The face of a Small Time Hero in Illinois.
...
When Danny and Cass got seperated, he ended up in Amity Park. After a few days of Wandering, he was found by Jazz, who then took him to her Parents and convinced them to Adopt him.
When Danny is 14, he is in a Lab Accident that turns him into a Halfa. Using his New Powers and Old Training, Danny manages to keep his new Family and Home safe from the Ghosts coming through the Fentons Portal. He becomes a Hero basically, even though he doesn't really want to attention.
He thanks the Ancients when he finds out about the Media Blackout Amity is Under. He guesses it's not great, but at least he is safe for now.
He continues like this until one day when he is 16, and there is a knock on the Door.
He opens it, and stands shocked when he sees his Sister. Not Jazz, the wonderful woman who took him in and taught him how to speak all those years ago. The one who has acted as his Older Sister for the past 5 years.
His Sister. His Twin. Cass.
After a moment of Shock, they simultaneously go in for a Hug and start to cry a little.
After a few minutes of calming down, Danny introduces his Sister to his bewildered Family. Cass likewise introduces her Adoptive Brother, Dick, who came along to make sure she was safe on the trip.
While Dick and the Fentons get acquainted, Danny takes Cass up to his room to talk.
She explains what happened after they got seperated, what she is doing there, and how she found him.
She tells him that she had originally come to Amity to bring him to her new Family, but she could see the love he held for the Fentons. Also the town needed its Hero.
Danny is shocked that she even found him through the Media Blackout, but not so much at the fact that she nailed his secret identity on sight. She was always observant after all.
After that, Cass and Dick stay in Amity for a few weeks so Danny and Cass can catch up. He introduces her to his friends, shows her around his parents Lab, and even let's her meet some of his kore friendly Rogues.
They are just having a great time.
...
Back in Gotham, Batman just got a very frantic call from Barry.
"Bruce, I just came back from the future!" Shouted Barry through the Comms.
"Explain." Demanded Batman. Barry knew better than to Time Travel without just cause. If he was forced to time travel, it was serious.
"A Villain shows up, an Apocalyptic Level Villain." Barry explains, "He destroys Everything. And I mean Everything. None of us can stop him, he has too many powers to combat. Flight, Invisibility, Intangiblity, Energy Beams, Energy Constructs, Ice Manipulation, Weather Manipulation, Electrokinesis, the list goes on."
"How do we stop him?" Asked Batman. This was dangerous, a Villain with even half of those powers was deadly already.
"It's complicated, but I think he followed me and another Hero back in Time. I think it may be a Closed Time Loop. He is the catalyst for his own creation."
"Is there any way to break the Loop? What is the main driving force to his Creation?" Asks Batman.
"Well, I know his name at least. He goes by Phantom, but his real name is Danny Fenton." Barry explains.
Bruce feels his heart grow cold. He knows both of those names.
Phantom, aka Danny Fenton, aka Daniel Cain.
Cassandra's Brother.
Barry seems to hesitate, before continuing, "...and as far as I know, the catalyst for his creation is the death of Orphan in Amity Park."
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golden-cherry · 5 months
Text
deal - cl16 (19/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: There's so much going on in Charles' brain, but having to come clean with his feelings is the hardest.
Warnings: 18+ (mentions of fingering, masturbating), angst, swear words, Lando being a little shit
Word Count: 3.4k
series masterlist
previous part
A/N: sorry. and happy season finale. let’s hope for a better 2024.
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Charles has never been so happy about a pot of plants. 
After you slammed the door in his face, he barely made it to the street before throwing up in the nearest plant pot. His fingers clawed around the hard ceramic edges as his body struggled against the nasty words he spat at you. 
He doesn't even know why he was so mean to you. 
Was it because you had a wonderful evening last night? Because you two got so close that you both almost kissed? Because you fell asleep next to each other and he slept incredibly well? Or because Lando texted him in the middle of the night and asked what your favorite food was so that he could do everything right on your date?
Maybe he does know why he was so mean to you. 
"Charles? Concentrate, please," he is snapped out of his thoughts and Charles sits up a little straighter in his chair. He can feel something crack in his spine.
The meeting has been going on for hours. So long, in fact, that the private chefs in Maranello have already had to bring food to the room four times, with the last meal being dinner. Charles has eaten so much pasta and bruschetta that he feels sick just looking at the leftovers on the table in front of him. And the water with the slice of lemon in the glass in front of him no longer tastes very refreshing.
No matter what he eats or drinks, he can't get rid of the disgusting taste in his mouth. 
He wonders if your "I hate you" is as heavy on your stomach as the nasty words are on his. He would love to take back everything he spat in your face. Turn back time and undo everything. But he can't do that. Unfortunately. 
He'd love to bang his head on the tabletop. 
In fact, he can barely remember what he said. It's as if his brain short circuited, has had some kind of blackout, or as if a bomb has gone off and wiped everything out. Which doesn't excuse any of it. But from your hurt look, the tears in your eyes and your venomous response, it was so unacceptable that he'd like to slap himself for it. 
It wasn't the first time Lando had asked Charles for dating help and they are actually such good friends that Charles has always been happy to help him. But the fact that the Brit asked for help so that he could take you out nicely - that doesn't sit right with him. Which is complete nonsense, because he has no reason to. He has no claim of ownership over you. And besides, he didn't want to kiss you in the bookstore. 
Although that's not entirely true either.
He did want to kiss you. Desperately. And you'd been so close all day, you'd shown him your favorite place and everything had pointed to you wanting to make the move to something more - and then you gave him that look when he asked you for a dance. And he can understand why you didn't want to. After all, it's your place, your favorite place, and never would Charles do anything to tarnish that place in any way. Create a memory that you would later regret. 
The Petit Mondes is your safe haven. And as much as Charles wants you - and he definitely does - he wouldn't cross that line.
Since you've known each other, Charles has had to fight every waking - and to be honest, every sleeping - moment not to jump you. He can't stop thinking about you standing in front of him half-naked in a towel. Or how you turned around just a few steps away from him before dinner with his friends to show him your outfit. How you slept next to him and dreamt - dreamt of him. A moment he will never forget. 
Although he is actually a late riser, Charles woke up early that morning. Not because he had slept in, but because he was warm. Contrary to his expectations, it wasn't because of the comforter or the heating, but because you were lying half on top of him. Your head was resting against his shirt-clad chest, one of your legs was draped over his hip, while your arm was wrapped around his middle. 
At first, he didn't understand what was going on at all. He wanted to lift his arm to rub the sleep from his eyes, but he was met with resistance in the form of a lightly clad, sleeping beauty. His arm was wrapped around your waist, his hand was a little too high on your ribs to pass for being friendly, and by God - he hadn't felt this comfortable in ages.
Feeling your closeness had triggered something in him that confused him, but at the same time made him incredibly relaxed. He had pulled you closer to him, pressed you against him and enjoyed your warmth. For a moment, he had even considered whether he should just pull you all over him so that he could be as close to you as possible. 
Before he could think about how wrong that would be and how many boundaries he would be crossing, you had turned in his arms so that your back was against his chest. Your body molded perfectly against his, your warmth engulfing him, but nothing could have prepared him for the fact that you were going to move your butt a little in his direction, right up against his crotch. 
Charles had been awake in a flash and while you continued to sleep soundly, all the blood from his brain had rushed to his dick. Embarrassed, he'd squinted and focused on something else - Ferrari strategies, Joris last Christmas with the Leclercs, anything - and had scooted back a few inches to stick his hand down his pants so he could fix his raging boner.
But alas, you'd followed him like a magnet, squirming against him like you knew exactly what you were doing, so that his cock was wedged between your ass cheeks. Your body had been so warm, so soft against his hard one, that he had to stifle a moan.
Something you hadn't been able to do. If you hadn't been so close to him, he would have missed your soft gasp of his name. That's when he blew a fuse.
He would have loved to wake you up with kisses along your neck, let his fingers wander slowly over your skin until they finally disappeared into your panties. He would have let them glide through your folds and collect your wetness before gently rubbing your bundle of nerves. You would have turned to him and moaned into his mouth as he slid one of his fingers into your tight walls.
He'd never escaped his bedroom so quickly and quietly and jumped into the freezing cold shower.
The water felt like fine pinpricks as it splashed down on his burning hot skin, but no matter how cold he turned it on - his cock stood angry and proud. He put his head back in despair, his brain vehemently refusing to see his friend in this light, to desire you like this. But before he could do anything about it, his fingers had wrapped themselves around his aching cock. His imagination ran away with him, too many images popped up in his mind's eye as he squeezed it twice in the hope of relieving some tension. But the only thing it triggered was the feeling of a moment ago, when his cock was against your ass. 
He was almost ashamed of how quickly he came. 
He just hoped you didn't notice when he came back into the bedroom and woke you up with it. He had thought about lying back next to you, but had decided on the foot of the bed to create some distance. 
The fact that you were dreaming about him threw him off course. And he'd really wanted to kiss you - by God, he'd wanted to do even kinkier things to you - but the timing never seemed right. 
And then Lando's message came.
The vibration in his pocket brings him back to the present. Charles takes a quick look around to make sure he's not the center of the conversation, then glances at his phone. 
Lando: You need to come home now.
He looks at the screen, confused. Why the hell is Lando texting him? Lando of all people? Did you tell him all the things Charles threw at you? How badly he treated you? 
Charles: I'm in Maranello. 
If you really did confide in Lando, his answer sounds pathetic. Why else would Lando text him? His friend certainly knows that Charles screwed up. And also that you want to move out of the apartment. But does the Brit really believe that Charles could change your mind when he's the reason you're moving out?
Lando's answer comes immediately.
Lando: I don't care. Get your ass over here. 
The Monegasque turns on the keypad lock on his cell phone and places it on the table in front of him. It wouldn't make any difference if he went home now and tried to change your mind. What could happen is that his presence would only strengthen your decision to move out. Besides, he doesn't know how he's ever going to face you again. 
Before he can think about it, his cell phone starts ringing. The eyes of his co-workers land on him and he apologizes with a quiet "mi dispiace" before leaving the meeting, phone in hand. Out in the corridor, he doesn't even need to look at the screen to know who is calling. 
"If you don't go back to Monaco immediately, I'll come to Italy myself to get you," Lando snaps at him and Charles has to hold the receiver away from his ear to stop his eardrums from bursting.
"Hi, Lando."
"Don't give me 'Hi, Lando'. Get your fucking ass over here."
Charles rubs his forehead before running his whole hand over his face. "I can't just leave here."
"Don't talk shit like that. We both know you're not up for the meeting," the Brit replies bitchily. "Don't act like you don't have a choice."
The Monegasque rolls his eyes. "What do you want to hear from me now, Lando?"
The answer comes like a shot from a gun. "I want to know what you've been up to! Are you completely stupid?"
Charles would like to know the answer too.
"You go home right now, explain your shitty behaviour and apologize."
"And you're interfering because...?" His tone is cold. 
"Because I was in your apartment all evening and had to watch how devastated Y/N was. I'd love to kill you for it."
"Go ahead and do it. She sure as hell wouldn't mind."
He swears he hears Lando take a deep breath on the other end of the line. 
"I'm going to tell you this once. Just once, Charles. And I'm saying this for her sake, because I still have hope that you're the person I was praising to her."
Praising? If you've told Lando everything, then you've certainly told Charles everything about the Brit. That he just wants to get you into bed. So why would Lando want to help him?
"What you did was absolute bullshit, Charles. Totally below the belt and you've never acted as fucking shit as you just did."
Charles rolls his eyes. "Is there anything positive coming?"
"Shut up, you idiot. I don't know what you've done in the few days you've known each other to make her so crazy about you, but I don't have to. Any blind man can see there's something between you. Something good. So go home now and save what can be saved before she really decides to leave the country."
Charles, who had just been leaning against the wall, stands up straight. "The country? I thought she just wanted to move out."
"She's been thinking about it, asshole. United States, Australia. Something really far away from you."
"But she has her job here, at that one magazine. There's no way she'd leave like that."
"She got fired, motherfucker. Before you made your weird deal. Nothing's keeping her here anymore. So get your ass over here now before she really decides to take off."
How could Charles be so blind? He knows the magazine, his mom reads it occasionally and he actually knows that a new issue comes out every week. You've known each other for five days - five days that you've spent entirely with him. Something that would definitely not be possible with such a full-time job. 
"And what do you want from me now? That I drop everything to go home even though she doesn't want to see me?"
"I've never seen anyone as stupid as you."
"Can you stop with the insults?" Charles snaps through the phone. 
"You have nothing to say to me, you arsehole. She told me what you said about me. You owe it to us to go off and try to make things right." 
Charles can't help but laugh. "Us? So you two are already an us?" He doesn't know why he's talking to one of his closest friends like this. Especially when the latter only wants to help put things right that Charles has messed up. The Monegasque has no reason to be angry. But the disgusting taste in his mouth, which he hasn't been able to get rid of for hours, is not anger. Unfortunately, he only realizes it now.
He's fucking jealous. And he can't do anything about it.
"We're friends, but apparently you don't know what the word stands for," Lando replies snippily. "Go home, explain to her why you behaved so badly and apologize to her." His voice softens, warmer than it has been throughout the phone call. "Charles, I know you're being careful because you're afraid of getting hurt again. And I can understand that, I really can." He takes a deep breath. "But it's Y/N we're talking about here. Sit down and talk to each other, be honest, and then it'll all work out."
Charles' gaze wanders to the huge Ferrari logo hanging on the wall next to him and his bad guilt returns. You don't even know who he is. To you, he's Charles, the roommate who shows you beautiful places, introduces you to his friends and with whom you share a bed. You are the only person who knows him as Charles and not as Charles Leclerc.
What would you think of him if the cat was out of the bag? When you see who he really is, including the spotlight? What happens if you like Charles, but not Charles Leclerc? He doesn't know if he could handle it. His job is his life, he's on the road all year round and what little time he has he has to divide between friends and family. 
That's why his relationship with Annika failed. She was right about what she threw at him. That you always have to wait for him and that it's not fair. And she knew what she was getting into from the start. But you don't. You would be thrown in at the deep end if you decided to go for it. If you chose him.
"I don't think it's that easy," Charles says quietly, and he has to suppress the tremor in his voice. "She - she doesn't deserve this life. This risk. She - she," he takes a deep breath and has to wipe away the tear running down his cheek. "She's too good for me. She deserves someone great."
"How strange," Lando replies. "That's exactly what she says about you. So get in the car and apologize. I'm sure you'll be able to sort it out. And if you say shit like that about me again, I'll drive you into the wall in Bahrain next year."
Charles curls his mouth into a thin smile. "I'm truly sorry, Lando. And thank you for everything."
"I'm just absolutely the best." Charles can almost hear his grin before the Brit hangs up.
When the Monegasque re-enters the meeting room, all eyes are on him. With deliberate steps, he walks to his chair and grabs his jacket before looking at his team boss. "I'm going home."
His boss crosses his arms in front of his chest. "You can't just leave like that, Charles. We need to talk about next season and everything that's gone wrong this year."
"I can tell you exactly what happened," the brunette replies as he zips up his jacket. "The strategies this year were all for the trash, you screwed me over and you cost me the title." He grabs his wallet and car keys from the table in front of him. "Make sure things go better next year. After all, it doesn't get any shittier than this. See you next year. Have a good holiday."
He knows that his Ferrari can drive fast. And he also knows that he shouldn't drive that fast. But the roads home are empty and he wants to get to you as quickly as possible, in the hope that you haven't left the apartment yet. The accelerator pedal is almost stuck to the floor and he would certainly have to pay a heavy fine if the police caught him speeding. But apparently luck is on his side and it takes him just over three hours to turn onto the streets of Monaco.
The closer he gets to your apartment, the faster his heart beats and he can feel himself starting to sweat. What's the best way to start the apology?
I'm sorry I was so shitty to you, but it was because -
I behaved like crap, but it was only because - 
I'm sorry I was such a bad friend, but you should have - 
Wow. It actually all sounds like shit. 
Maybe Lando is right. Maybe the most reasonable thing would be for Charles to just be honest, even if it means destroying everything between you. But you deserve the truth.
I'm sorry I said those bad things to you and I'm sorry I hurt you. Of course, apologizing can't undo any of it, but if you gave me the chance, I could explain myself to you. I was jealous because we had such a nice evening and then I find out you planned a date with one of my friends. I wanted to kiss you in the bookstore, I've wanted you ever since we met. You've been messing with my head from the beginning, taking over my heart and I can't think straight when you're with me. Maybe it's crazy because we've only known each other for five days, but I've never felt about someone the way I feel about you. I'm in lo-
His train of thought stops abruptly as he turns into the street. A green Nissan is parked on the sidewalk in front of your apartment, the driver's door is open and the hazard lights illuminate the walls of the house. 
Charles worriedly parks at the next opportunity before jumping out of the car and dashing to the front door, which is wide open. He can already hear angry voices from outside, a male voice that almost shouts the whole house awake. 
And your voice, angry and rough and shaky, as if you were at the end of your tether. 
Charles sprints up the few steps to your apartment and stops like a flash on the top step when he sees you. You're wearing your pyjamas, your hair is disheveled, as if you've run your hand through it several times, and when you see him, you snap your eyes open as if you've seen a ghost. 
But it's not the sight of you that makes Charles' blood boil. 
It's Raphael's, who follows your gaze and takes a step back when he realizes who he's facing. "Your roommate is Charles Leclerc?"
next part
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faeriekit · 9 months
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New In Town (dp x dc)
ALRIGHT! 👏🏽 A prompt. (Or, well. A premise.) I’m schtealing a lot of worldbuilding from @mediumsizedpidegon‘s post here so bear with me please.
The Bats, however they catch wind of Amity, catch wind of Amity Park. Of course they do. Amity Park has a very distinct presence— Or, well, a lack of a presence. It may have an abundance of documented weirdness online, from folk stories to abandoned livestreams to concerning details in expats’ online blogs.
But there is no online evidence of Amity Park that leaves Amity Park.
So. What is a family of detectives to do when confronted with the need to gather physical evidence? Road Trip, baby!🏄🏽‍♂️🚗🚞🚡
Everyone hops in the car/Batplane and makes their way to Amity Park; they make hotel reservations, ring up the only reasonably rich enough people to even touch their social circle (the Manson family, and Vlad Masters, apparently), make an itinerary for all the documented tourist stops to hit up while in town off the town website, and prepare themselves for whatever dimensional weirdness is causing a complete tech blackout on the town and an inability to be found by satellite.
They get about ten feet into Amity proper when they meet the first local.
His name is Danny. He’s nice! Affable. He looks a lot like any other Wayne sibling, actually, if a little on the younger side. He notices it’s their first time in town. Do they need any help getting around?
Best way to get information is to ingratiate with a local, so...sure, why not? They get a free tour guide, Danny gets to show off his town; they see all the sights, like the local burger joint, the school, the Manson home, the town hall, the city proper. They’re having a clothing swap in the temple parking lot, actually. You should go check it out!
For whatever reason, it’s all...Punk? Goth? There’s a couple of lolita dressed tossed in, and some crocheted things. Everyone has a trunk out their car, eyeliner, and at least two piercings in their face; everyone here seems to know each other on a personal level. Well, small towns are small towns. Whatever.
Danny isn’t deterred by their reactions. If they want, there’s the movie in park tonight! If not, they can catch dinner, though; their hotel restaurant closes at 8pm sharp. (He just...knows this off the top of his head?)
They split up. Some of the family people watch at the restaurant. Everyone is...weirdly courteous to them. A little standoffish. But not at the Wayne name, just at...them being there.
The people at the park find out they’re watching The Night of the Living Dead. This would be much more normal if the park wasn’t also clearly the cemetery, in the middle of July? Which is. Why? It’s not even for any holiday or special time of the year? It’s just...clearly a movie night in the summer? There are little kids here, playing among the gravestones while their parents set out blankets and snacks. Why is this considered a family event??
Well. At least Jason has fun.
Everyone goes to bed and reconvenes in the morning. When they wake up and roll out for the day, Danny manages to find them again, this time with two new friends, bright and chipper in the morning. There’s a farmer’s market today! Everyone’s worked really hard on this week’s harvest; don’t they want to see?
...Sure?
And the longer they’re in Amity Park, the more they begin to realize how convenient it is, that they’re ferried around so easily; that there’s immediately a local who takes a liking to them, that there’s always something else to do; how suspicious it is that no data can get in or out of Amity now that they’re in it, or how they can’t seem to get close to any of the more suspicious parts of town they want to infiltrate. The town is entirely closed to outside influences. The fashion trends are strange and foreign. They only eat things grown in the area, by people they know, and it’s all sort of...green. Everyone knows everyone. Everyone knows where to go. Who to talk to. The superstitions— make no wishes, step on no cracks, wear no large jewelry, cross no shadows of any person (living or dead, apparently), speak to no one without full view of their eyes. 
But nothing seems dangerous— not until a few of them try to investigate Axiom Labs, a subsidiary of the otherwise national Dalvco company, and are met to the face with a blaster that uses tech they’ve never seen, by a red fighter in an ultra-synthetic suit.
Overnight, the extremely polite and welcoming town becomes a hostile entity to fight their way out of.
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vicissicude · 4 months
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reading the transcript of james somerton's video and here's some notable stuff for people who dont want to watch the 34 minute long thing:
it opens with him saying his media blackout is because he was in the hospital for "trying to do something really stupid"
the first thing approaching an apology in this apology video is at the timestamp 2:20
immediately after saying "i'm really really sorry" he says that in title cards he tried to put "this is based on this person's research or this person's book" but he "knows that isnt enough now"
"there were a lot of times that stuff just got put in and there was no attempt at crediting anybody and i'm really really sorry" nice passive voice james
he claims he didnt know he was hurting people doing this
he spends two minutes explaining how long he's been friends with nick and all their history and that nick has not spoken with him since "this happened"
"I also want to apologize for the misinformation and just outright lies that ended up in the videos I can honestly say that I never intended for any of that stuff to be in the videos. And most cases I didn't write it but I should have […] I should have been more diligent about factchecking" he never intended lies to be in the video, just pure good research that he stole. research that he later says he took for granted
he briefly thanks harris and his team for the fund set up for victims of plagiarism and says he wants to help but doesn't know how
less than a second later he's saying that all claims and estimations of how much he makes online are overestimated and that he split everything 50/50 with nick
he says his plan moving forward is to reupload all the videos, put credit in the description, and then somehow send the ad revenue for those videos to the authors whose research he stole. do those authors want that? wonder if he even asked them. i mean if he stole my shit for a video i wouldnt want him to reupload with a credit in the description and whatever paltry cents i get from the few views he'll manage after this
"I never thought anyone thought that I was doing like journalism on stuff. I don't think anyone did, but the people who actually were doing it should have been given the credit they deserved." wild sentence bro
he once again defends his title card citations in two videos and appends "but now I know that's not how citation works" so why are you still saying it...
at some point he'd like to do videos again, and his plan for that is "videos that are fully sourced where I will put a link to the script where you can find all of the sources so that everyone is properly given the credit that they deserve." now i could be reading this purposefully negatively but this just sounds like a description citation again but with extra steps
he wants to be a "really good example" of proper citation
"People think that I hate ace people and women and bisexual people and lesbians and that's not true. I'm sorry that stuff made it into the videos. I promise you I did not write that stuff. I should have been a lot more extracting when Nick and I would be editing scripts but I promise you that I don't think those things […] when it came to that I would just kind of run with Nick's judgement and his observations and stuff like that." SO THE ONE THING THAT HARRIS SAID WAS NOT PLAGIARIZED AND SEEMED TO BE JAMES'S REAL OPINION HE WANTS US TO KNOW THAT HE DEFINITELY DOESNT FEEL THAT WAY AND WAS JUST PARROTING NICK'S OPINION. but dont worry right after this he assures us he's not trying to "throw Nick under the bus"
he says he thinks they were just trying to do videos too fast and writing and editing too fast
"Telos was never a scam. It was never a grift or anything like that I swear it was not. In the next couple of days I'm going to send out a message to the supporters on Indiegogo and explain the whole situation in more detail to them." can't wait to read that explanation
he spends more time talking about the videos he'd like to make in the future
"I actually liked doing research. I loved doing research, reading the books and articles and stuff like that. The part of me that was lazy was the copy and paste part. I wasn't trying to be malicious that was just laziness." james. that's not as great of an explanation as you might think. it just shows how blatantly you dont respect or care for other creators. you only did it because you believed you could get away with it, not just because you were lazy
he says the reason he's reactivating his patreon is because there were several people online theorizing that his plan was to relaunch in january to pull surprise billing and run with the money. so he said he's relaunching now to give people time to leave ("which i imagine will be the vast majority" can't pass up the opportunity to be self-deprecating)
he ends the video restating what he said earlier in the video
notably he's crying the whole time
one thing i'll say is that i didn't see anything that indicated he communicated with harris or kat or anyone. it sounded like he was coming up with that plan on the fly. i'm not surprised if he claimed it elsewhere or has failed to follow up on that promise, but it has only been 5 hours since release (at the time i'm typing this). so at least he's not making claims quite as bold as "i've been in communication with hbomberguy"
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bluecollarmcandtf · 2 months
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Dads, Dads, and more Dads
I did something I shouldn't have! My buds all bailed on our night out, so I hit the bar and got hammered by myself. Somehow, I ended up blackout drunk in a fortune teller's shop. I remember crying about how much I wanted a fatherly figure in my life. She did this weird ritual to make me feel better. I thought it was a joke at the time, but I know now it wasn't...
"Buddy, get out of bed! Breakfast is ready!"
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A pang of guilt empties my stomach. For a moment, I stare at the ceiling with absolutely no urge to eat. It's been two days since that fortune teller put a curse on me, and I have no idea how to live with myself. I obviously can't pretend her little ritual wasn't real anymore.
"Hey, Josh," I nervously answer, stepping into the kitchen to look at my roommate.
"Can't sleep all day, buddy. Eat up!" Josh gives me an endearing smile that sends shivers down my spine.
A few days ago, Josh was a lazy, rude asshole who was only good for paying his part of the rent. We were chill enough roommates, but he only ever talked to me when he wanted a second opinion on girls he saw at the gym. The guy was easily the biggest douchebag in our friend group, always showing off and making someone else the butt of his joke.
Looking at him now, I'd laugh! If only I didn't feel so guilty for his personality's erasure.
"Look at the time! I better get moving. That yard won't maintain itself!" Josh flashes the brand new watch on his wrist. The thing is clunky and old: the kind of wristwatch you'd expect a dad to wear.
"You know we're only renting this place for the semester, right?" I search his expression for any trace of the slimy old Josh, "The landlord is supposed to take care of the yard!"
Josh just chuckles and mutters something about wanting to impress the neighbors. He even has the audacity to reach out and tussle my hair. My face gets hot as a guy, only a month older than myself, treats me like a child.
That curse really screwed up his brain. When Josh found me the morning after, something just broke in him. He immediately jumped to my side and promised to help me nurse my hangover, and it didn't stop there. After he tucked me in for a nap, he drove straight to the mall, buying a whole new wardrobe of cargo shorts and polos. I thought he was just hitting the gym like usual, so when he came back dressed up like the suburban father he hates, I barely even recognized him.
"Have a good day, buddy!"
Josh ignores my protests and plants a big smooch on the back of my head before marching out of the kitchen. It was bad enough my roommate was calling me buddy! Does he really have to kiss me like that too? It makes me uncomfortable to see my scummiest friend infused with such insane paternal instincts, but this is kind of what I asked for. Right?
I slam the back door shut and look at my rusty old bike. Today is already getting on my nerves and I'm not in the mood to peddle all the way to class. Maybe, that guy next door hasn't left for work yet...
"Oh, hey there, Kiddo!"
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The deep voice of my neighbor makes me relax a little. I see all six and a half feet of him climb out of the car and stare at me with the same look Josh had on earlier. He's a father of four, but ever since my night out, he looks at me like I'm him his only real son.
"Hey, Mr. Jones," I mumble back.
"Glad I caught you, Kiddo. I was just about to pull out of the driveway," he explains, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder, "You want a me to drive you to class today?"
I push aside my feelings of guilt and manage a smile, "That'd be great."
Mr. Jones beams back brilliantly. He claps me on the back, which knocks me a bit off balance. Before I know it, he's guiding me into his passenger seat and asking me to hold his briefcase.
"Just let me text work to let them know I'm coming in later than normal," he adds while texting on his flip phone, "How are classes going, kiddo?"
I shrug off the question with a one-word answer. Now that everyone's forced to act like my dad, I get asked about my classes like twenty times a day. My thoughts drift, but Mr. Jones keeps up the conversation, lecturing me about good grades or something. I don't know how a guy who barely knows me can have so many opinions about my academics!
"You know what!" I cut him off just before he starts reminiscing on his own college years, "Just drop me off at this cafe."
Worry lines form on his forehead, "Are you sure you don't want me to drive you the whole way?
"No. Just give me some cash."
Mr. Jones gives me a look of disappointment before shimmying his wallet out of his khakis. He counts off forty dollars and hands it over.
"Can I have a little more?" I press quietly.
Look, I know it's wrong to abuse this bizarre new dynamic between us, but I'm a poor college kid! If he doesn't want to give me his money, he can just say no. It's not like I'm holding a gun to his head!
"Sure thing, kiddo," he gives me a dry smile and pulls out a couple more twenties, "Don't spend it all in one place!"
"Ok, bye," I awkwardly announce and hop out.
"Wait!" his husky baritone calls from the car window, "You want a ride home after class?"
"Nope! Just go back to your own life," I yell stiffly. Even though I don't turn to watch him drive off, I hear his car pull away. It's just a car, but it somehow sounds disappointed in me too. I try to swallow the growing lump in my throat and step into the cafe for some much needed coffee...
"Morning, young man. What can I get you?"
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The lump in my throat seems to get bigger when I see the waiter. He's a lot hotter of a man than I expected to find in this little cafe.
Already, the way he looks at me is shifting. That curse is transforming whatever thoughts he'd just had in his head. He's feeling more and more protective and responsible for me with every second he looks at me. At this point, I've grown accustomed to the mysterious effect I have on older guys. It's only been a few days, but I've seen so many random dudes go through this psychological transition. It's like they're discovering a new purpose in life: me.
"Uh yeah, I guess a cappuccino would be nice," I mutter with a dry mouth.
"You got it, young man!" he gives me a friendly wink, "Anything else I can get you?"
I know I shouldn't push my luck, but I can't help myself with this guy, "A hug would be nice! I've been feeling a bit isolated lately..."
The waiter instantly puts his pen and paper down and holds out his arms. His welcoming smile is gone, and a look of genuine concern waits for me, "Come here."
I practically leap into his arms, and he eagerly accepts me, pulling me into his chest like it's where I belong. It feels amazing to be held by this man, even if I don't know him at all. I could stay here all day if he'd let me.
"Seems like you're enjoying the hug," the waiter eventually chuckles into my ear.
For a second, I'm confused, but then I realize I'm fully erect and the waiter can definitely feel it poking into his waist.
"Sorry!" I jump back, searching for any other witnesses.
"Hey, don't be!" he assures me, "It's a completely normal part of life, ok?"
"You're not mad?" my voice comes out more timid than I expected, but I can't help myself. I just accidentally boned up someone who was trying to be nice. What makes it worse, is that he's probably only trying to be nice because of my ridiculous curse.
"Of course not," he affirms, "I can help you take care of it, if that's ok, young man?"
"What do you mean?" My face burns red hot.
"Oh, let me show you," he grabs me by the hand and leads me away from the table, "There's no need to be ashamed of any part of your body! In fact, this part can be a lot of fun."
I'm left speechless as the waiter gives me another fatherly wink, but I can't linger on what he's said. I'm being pulled into the men's restroom. I hear the click of the door locking behind us as he pulls me in front of the mirror, sliding up behind me. I can feel his chest on my back and his thighs against my ass.
If I was hard before, I'm practically bursting now!
"It's time you had the talk, young man," he calmly speaks in my ear like this is a completely normal thing for a waiter to do.
He starts droning on about men, women, sex, and where babies come from, but I'm not listening. I obviously know what sex is, and I think I'm having it right now. His hands slip under my arms and wrap around my waist to unzip my pants. My rock-hard cock bursts out of my jeans the second they're open, and a moan of surprised ecstasy fumbles over my lips just when the waiter gets to his point on male anatomy.
Does the waiter really believe a dad should do this for their sons?
He starts talking me through how to jack off. He must think I've never masturbated before, and I'm sure as hell not telling him that I have! Hearing him narrate every wrist movement, every ball tug, every nipple pinch is just too much fun! Before long, the waiter has me violently shooting on our reflections in the mirror.
"And there you go," he pats me on the back while I stand there stunned. The waiter steps back and looks at me like he's proud of the great life lesson he'd just taught me, "Now you know how to get rid of those boners of yours. Let me go get your coffee started."
I stand in the bathroom, collecting myself, as the waiter finally tends to my coffee order. This dad-curse the fortune teller gave me might be more fun than I originally thought. If I can get one daddy to randomly jack me off, then who knows what else I can do! Rushing out of the bathroom, I already have so many ideas flooding through my head...
"Excuse me, sir!"
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"Sorry!" I shout.
In my excitement, I almost crash into the cafe's porter. A little less graceful, and I would have sent every single dish crashing to the floor. Glancing at the face of my would-be victim, I almost moan when I see get a good look at him. I can tell his head is already filling up with the same artificial need to be my father.
"No damage done," he assures me, lingering back to stare at me like I'm some lost puppy.
"Don't you...um...have to bus some tables or something," I breath nervously.
"Oh yeah," he frowns, "Sorry to get in your way."
He shakes his head like he's trying to lose the strange new thoughts in his brain. I stand there frozen like a deer in headlights as he walks away. He glances back at me before turning his attention to a cluttered table.
"Wait!" I yell, "Come back!"
The busboy drops the tub of dirty dishes and rushes back over like his life depends on it. The sight of this worried hunk running back to me makes me hard all over again.
I grab him and pull him into a hug, but his arms quickly take over and support me. Once again, my boner is rock hard and poking into the body of some random guy I just met!
"You have a car?" I ask.
"Yeah."
"You want to drive me around?"
"Of course!" he yanks off his apron and puts a hand on my back.
The waiter comes back around and hands me my coffee, looking at his coworker in utter confusion.
"Cover his shift," I demand, "He's driving me to school."
The waiter nods with an open mouth. He does look completely confused, but there's also a hint of jealousy in his stare. I think he's mad the busser gets to chauffeur me around: poor guy.
The porter doesn't seem bothered to be walking out of his job. He's busy smiling at me like I'm his whole world. I slide into his humble car and tell him where my class is. Before long, he's pulling out of the parking lot and driving me to school. I use our time to get to know him. I'm honestly not all that interested in learning about his life, but I do enjoy watching him talk. It doesn't take a while for us to get to campus, but before I get out I grab his hand and put on my best puppy dog eyes.
"I don't know when you get off work, but I'd love it if you came by my apartment. My roommate is trying to clean it up, but he could really use the help of someone more experienced."
"I love housework!" he just answers, "I'll be there!"
I snicker and slam the car door shut. I might be an hour late, but I'm finally here for class. It's time to give my professor a visit...
"Yeah, I can unbutton my shirt!"
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My professor fell under my spell just as fast as the others. He had a look of anger when I walked in; probably from me skipping his class, but that expression quickly warped as he looked at me. Within seconds he was rounding his desk to give me a big old hug. Apparently, he "forgave" me for being so late.
"You like what you see?" he asks, gesturing to his hairy chest, "Trying to check out your old man?"
"You're my old man?" I ask, kind of surprised by the goofy smile on his face.
"Well, no," he bumbles, "But I am a strong male influence in your life! I'm like your dad!"
I nod my head like he's just made a really good point, "Oh. Then you probably want to treat me like your son. Right?"
"Yeah!" he holds his arms out to animate his enthusiasm.
Professor Reid has a reputation for being stiff and demanding in the classroom, so his new personality completely contradicts his true character. The man I know would never smile at a student, let alone bare his chest to them.
"So, I'm off the hook for missing today's class right?"
"Well," he pauses, "Sure."
"Can I skip the rest of the semester?"
"What, no. I want you to have a good education, my boy!"
I creep up to him and place my hands on his hairy torso, feeling the fur and the weight of his body. Professor Reid sure has a lot to hide under all those dress shirts he always wears.
"I'm just so lucky to have a daddy like you," I purr, "A daddy who's willing to do everything he can for me."
My professor grabs my arm and stares into my eyes. With a serious tone, "I am willing to do everything for you, my boy."
"Alright," I smile, "You should give me private lessons then..."
"What a great idea," he's back to grinning like an idiot.
"...and you should always do it in your underwear!"
"I can do that. From now on, I'll be stripped and ready before you come in!" He smiles at me like this is the best decision he's ever made in his life.
"Alright, now pull the rest of your clothes off," I command, "I want to see what the rest of my daddy looks like."
Mr. Reid doesn't hesitate to start stripping in front of his favorite student. I could probably get this guy to do anything now. I can already imagine our private lessons; me lounging in his leather armchair and him on his knees with his mouth full. Maybe that curse isn't a curse at all. Maybe it's actually a gift...
"Hey, buddy! How was class today?"
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Josh looks tired from a long day of yardwork, but he still seems excited for me to come home. The lawn looks immaculate compared to our neighbors', and I have my roommate to thank for that.
"The grass looks great, dad."
"Dad! Woah!" Josh yells ecstatically, "Buddy, I can't tell you how much it means to hear you say that."
Josh sweeps me up in his arms. Apparently, it doesn't bother him to be the father figure of a guy only a few months younger than himself. It doesn't bother me anymore either. I kind of like that he smells like aftershave and bacon now instead of weed and sweat.
"Let's go inside, buddy. I'll cook something up for dinner," Josh says with a hand on my back. I'm already growing so accustomed to being guided around everywhere.
"Actually, I invited a guy to come over," I admit, "He can cook. You should relax. You got a lot of work done today, dad."
"I did, didn't I?" he smiles proudly, "Let me grab a beer, then. We can watch TV."
"Actually, I thought there might be something else you'd enjoy."
"You know me so well, buddy. What are you thinking?"
"You could bend over the couch..."
Josh cringes and shakes his head. Once again, it's like he's fighting the foreign thoughts entering his head.
"...I know how much you like to make me happy, and I really want to pound ass right now."
For a second, a look of horror flashes over his face, but it's gone in an instant. A bright fatherly smile spreads between his cheeks.
"That sounds perfect, buddy. Enjoy yourself."
Josh doesn't look away as he unbuttons his cargo shorts, smiling at me with love and devotion the entire time. He seems completely relaxed as he bends over the couch, and he only seems to become more comfortable as he spreads his cheeks apart.
Once again, I'm rock hard as I stare at one of my dads. This curse might have made me feel guilty before, but Josh said it himself.
I think I will enjoy myself.
Thanks for the ASK, Vebrendos
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romanoffsbish · 1 month
Text
Y/N (Natasha’s Version)
Natasha Romanoff x F!R
Natasha x Bucky (blip / referenced)
Warnings: “Cheating” | Underage Drinking | Internalized Homophobia
Request | You heard the rumors from Darcy, unfortunately they were true—Natasha missed you, so she showed up at your party | WC: 2,799
Betty by Taylor Swift, sapphic canon not just coded and slightly aged up to the start of college (18+)
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As the car rolled away, Natasha felt her throat constrict. Where there once was a sunset on the horizon, in blush waves of pink and orange, she only saw an apocalyptic sky where red slowly bled into grey.
——
The perfectly paved streets restored to their prior days as the pre-gentrified road of your shared Brooklyn suburb became her current hallucination. Tied to the tail pipe of your mother's beaten down corolla was her heart, thumping against the cracked pavement. The natural gaps in the organ were filled by pebbles. As the car disappeared she felt shattered, the string pulling her heart had broken and the organ fell into a pothole.
Is it over now? No, Natasha couldn't face that...
As your mom's Tesla turned left the redhead let the sob she had been holding in out. Her body collapsed into a shroud of darkness as her blackout curtains shut, the blankets atop of her mattress moved to suffocate her.
Good, she wanted to die; she knew she was being dramatic but in this moment it felt like her barely even an adult world had ended. Her hit list was growing steadily, first she would kill Wanda, her idiot best friend that posted the photo of her with Bucky.
They were awkwardly kissing, and the redhead deleted it from her stories in a matter of minutes, but it was too late. Darcy saw it, the mutual friend who moved to the same city as she had, and she blabbed instantly. The woman called Jane, who then confirmed that there was actual proof this time before she phoned you in.
Natasha returned to town just in time to see the one consequence she never pondered when experimenting; your face was neutral, but your eyes were crestfallen.
It was just a stupid experience she needed to have, a short summer fling, it lasted not even two weeks. It was reckless and she knows that now. You'd slapped her hand away just days ago, then in a split second she found out from Yelena that you were going to NYU.
The blonde saw you at her late orientation for those stellar high school students interested in an early start. Natasha cried that night knowing you were leaving, you wouldn't be taking the gap year with her anymore.
Your heart was attached to her line, and she never considered that she should've just talked to you. It should have occurred to her that you would be upset. Considering the two of you were together, in a sense; not exactly girlfriends, but far more than friends.
Natasha regretted the affair as soon as it started, but she just needed to know if her Russian parents, who were raised back home were ready for her truth.
James was a total gentleman, her parents would've loved him since the young boy was affluent with Russian and the culture, but he wasn't the right fit. Natasha knew that after one attempt at kissing him, his lips were gruff and his hands were just the same as they roamed her form, the touch filled her with dread.
Unlike yours, which never came without words of confirmation and were soft when granted permission. Natasha found immense comfort at the feeling of your pillowy soft lips against hers alongside your gentle roaming hands. It went beyond the physical touch too, which really only served to prove to her she was a raging lesbian. When she looked into Bucky's ice blue eyes she felt nothing, not even a tether of friendship, but with you she felt that obnoxious fluttering in her stomach, and the world she saw were more vibrant.
Every time you were near her body and mind felt serene, like she could rest around you without the unease she felt around most. Everything was different now and she felt it deep within. You're gone, and with you left the comfort and love she needed to breathe.
That night, as sleep inevitably consumed her tortured mind Natasha found herself determined to fix this. It was a misunderstanding—you'd understand, right?
——
A week had gone by, Yelena had mentioned how she ran into you at the cafe where you treated her to a hot cocoa. Not allowing the turmoil with Natasha to affect the way you approached her little sister. It had warmed her heart and even made her smile, then the blonde sarcastically mentioned that you looked sad, her harsh delivery sought to remind her sister it was her fault.
Though she didn't leave her with only the reminder of her shortcomings, but also of an opportunity to amend.
"There's a frat party this weekend, Y/N's going."
Which is why Natasha was racing down the stairs at 8pm on a Saturday. Normally you two would be cuddled up in her bed, watching your favorite show while surrounded by every snack known to man. The party lifestyle never appealed to either of you and a part of her ached as she wondered why you're going.
How deeply did her betrayal change your outlook on life? Did her foolish decision make you think you needed to change? Were you afraid you weren't lively enough? Fuck, did you intend to move on tonight?
Natasha shook her head when she heard a honk, the depressing thoughts having consumed her into a state where she was mindlessly driving. Fortunately, she didn't hit anyone and was able to focus her mind long enough to make it to the college where she saw chaos.
Bodies of various students bustled across the campus quad, some in the direction of the main buildings but majority of them headed to a road far off to the side of the grand lecture halls. On the left side were rather large houses painted in varied shades of pastel, they were clearly well maintained. On the right stood a parallel set of houses, but the paint job was dull and there were pieces missing from many of the fixtures.
What stood out most though, was the black house in the center of them all, currently surrounded by idiots with red solo cups in their hands. The bulk of them laughing at the joke another drunken fool had made.
Natasha cringed when a body collided into hers, and as if things couldn't be worse she recognized the woman, Darcy. The raven haired woman stood in shock for a split second before offering the familiar face a smile. It was lopsided and it was clear the woman was faded.
Natasha was annoyed initially, but quickly saw the woman as a means to an end. "Where's Y/N?"
The woman pursed her lips and shrugged. "Inside?"
As she should've expected, the blabbing stoner only offered information to others when it wasn't helpful. Natasha passive aggressively pushed by her and took the risk of entering the house full of underage bodies.
Loads of upperclassmen foolishly tried to stop her on her determined journey to you, but most were met with bruised nuts alongside their cowering egos. In a matter of thirty minutes she had checked the entirety of the cloudy building and a part of her beamed at that.
You were nowhere to be found, her heart hoped that you'd returned to the dorm she finessed out of Yelena.
There was a nervous flutter in her chest that brought her frantic searching to a pause and made her mouth run dry. A pang of fear that paralyzed her body in place as she now considered the endless possible outcomes.
Would you even open the door if you knew it was her?
The redhead was sure you didn't have peepholes but there's the likely chance of you slamming the door shut in her face, that felt worse. Not nearly as bad as her next thought, what if you were exploring too, just like she had with Bucky? Her hands became shaky at the hypocritical unease she felt about you moving on.
In her nervous state she took a sip of the punch before she promptly spit it back out into the red solo cup. If she wasn't nauseated before she sure as hell was now. A water bottle was just in her reach, properly cold and a perfect cure to wash away the disgust on her tongue. Just as she began to unscrew the lid though she found herself frozen again as she heard a familiar giggle.
Natasha's head spun to the left side then the right. A blur of pointless people filled her vision before she found the source of the laughter—her happiness.
Stood directly across the room, in a gorgeous red dress with a familiar leather jacket hanging loosely over your likely bare shoulders. Her cheeks tinted pink, a sense of relief nearly washed over her at the notion of you potentially not hating her like she feared. Then she frowned, you wore a bright smile as you sipped on a juice box. It warmed the heart of your once secret lover to see you looking so carefree, a stark contrast to the last time, just like she always remembered you to be.
This time though, you were enraptured by a stupid jock, they bore an uncanny resemblance to herself that made her stomach swoop with a fragile sense of hope.
If you looked for her in another, she stood a chance, even if it was microscopic and not guaranteed. Right?
Yes or no, it didn't matter. Natasha would not go down without a fight, she once beat off an entire group of boys for taunting you, she'd gladly do it again for you.
Fortunately for the redhead she wouldn't have to. It was like something out of a movie the way your eyes locked with hers, the sounds became muted and you felt a dull flutter in your stomach where it used to be a roaring surge of butterflies to symbolize a deep love. A swarm of tears hung at the edge of your lashes and the massive room suddenly became too claustrophobic.
Natasha didn't question it as you took off, nor did she hesitate to dart after you as you aimlessly ran out the back door and stumbled upon an unexpected garden.
Who knew the dude bros also bore green thumbs?
Natasha found you sobbing over their patch of carrots and couldn't refrain from softly chuckling. Even in your grief you were finding a way to be useful and it filled her with nostalgia, it was just so inherently you.
Once your eyes shot up to hers, narrowed and enraged she realized she wasn't as quiet as she thought. "Fuck off Natasha." The joy on her face neutralized as she fell to her knees in front of you, her instinct was to reach out—to pull you in, but with words left unsaid and your clear disdain verbalized she knew it was best not to.
Every other time she'd seen you cry she held you close, but in this moment all she could do was grab the loose, fraying threads of your light brown cardigan and wrap it around her tiny, chiseled frame as if hugging herself.
A part of you softened when your eyes caught the self-soothing move, and the urge for answers won over your decision to never speak to the heartbreaker again.
"Why?" Natasha's frown worsened, the crack in your voice mirrored the ones in both of your naive souls.
"I missed you," she instantly answers one of the questions attached to the simple word, "and I needed the chance to explain myself before you give us up."
"Us?" You scoffed and didn't even care that she flinched. "You moved on first Natasha, without even a heads up—I found out through the local pothead."
"No," she denied with a shaky voice, "I didn't mean."
"Oh please," you cut her off, "I don't do cliches Natasha and you very well know that. I just don't understand."
"Let me speak," she croaked desperately, "I don't know why I didn't come to you with this query det—Y/N."
A shiver of delight betrayed you as it ran down your spine when you heard the delicate beginnings of the pet name Natasha assigned to you in middle school. The notion alone should have been enough for the redhead to know, but feelings were never definite enough for her, much like her mom she leaned into empirical evidence and just this once it has failed her.
"I needed to know," she continued. "Know what?"
You saw the way her nail beds were raw and red, much like her eyes as she attempted to refrain from crying more as she whispered, "when I came out to Mama and Papa, I had to know if you were my one and only, or if the urge to kiss girls since pre-k was truly genuine."
"So you kissed some random guy? I wasn't enough?"
"I couldn't just trust my heart here," she replied with frustration clear in her tone, but she quickly softened as she saw your hurt expression, she reminded herself that this uncomfortable, targeted feeling was her fault.
"Why him?" Natasha saw an insecurity in your eyes that infuriated her at her core, as if he ever compared to you. "He was their type," she answered truthfully.
You hummed and turned away from her, staring out into the black abyss that was the forestry behind the college. It intrigued you, nearly enough to run into it but you saw the danger there, but as you peered over at Natasha again you found the resentment melted away; the butterflies found a gust of wind to flutter against.
You shakily found the nerve to ask her, "so, was I?"
A few seconds of silence followed as the redhead worked to understand your question, Natasha's lip trembled as your intentional verbiage left her feeling hopeless, but she spoke her truth, "You always will be."
A mix between a groan and humorless laugh left you, "I said no cliches Natty, if you want to win me over..." Instead of saying another word you stood up and left.
Natasha's eyes widened and she stumbled to her feet, intent on following you as you slowly walked back towards the party she had no particular interest in joining. To her satisfaction you merely smiled at a friend as you grabbed your bag from by the couch.
Wordlessly you continued out the front door, and a giggle left you once Natasha grabbed you by your hip from the side, her body twisted around you and her other hand landed on your other hip. The beauty wore a hesitant smile on her face as she peered up at you.
Natasha breathlessly pled, "Can I kiss you, please?"
"A kiss on the steps of a college frat party," you teased, a smirk on your ruby tinted lips, "is grossly overdone."
The redhead moved her arms around your waist and yanked you forward anyways, "cliches are romantic." Her anxiety bitten lips pressed into yours, of course you felt the way her body relaxed due to your touch and the last bit of doubt left your body as she spun you around until your legs wrapped around her waist.
In a moment of excitable weakness you sighed, "I only will accept kisses like this going forward." Natasha chuckled at the change up, and you glared instantly, "I refuse to be a spectacle though, so take me to the car!"
Natasha refused to take any chances with your bubbling forgiveness so she rushed forward, gentle as can be as she settled you into the raised truck. It was automatic as you reached for her aux, "let's go to our spot—you can continue to win me over with food..."
A soft kiss was placed on your cheek in thanks, you knew this because Natasha always did this after a fight. Usually it was over something silly, like who was the masked killer or where you two should get dinner, but it was always true, the action was a promise of peace.
The redhead put the car in drive, pulling onto the quiet roads of a rural New York mountainside, windows rolled down allowing you to enjoy the crisp air as she went slightly above the 50mph speed limit. Whenever she could she'd cast a glance your way, and even in the dark she could catch your radiant smile as you quietly sang along to, "begin again," by Taylor Swift.
After a few moments of quiet driving on the redheads part you felt the presence of a hand, crippled by hesitation hovering over your thigh. With a gentle finger you pressed it down and looked to her with a gaze that held both hesitation and a willingness to understand, to forgive and hopefully, to start anew.
422 notes · View notes
withleeknow · 3 months
Text
thirteen percent.
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pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff; mentions of drinking, cursing, hella unedited and tbh i kinda gave up toward the end but i wanted to post smth lmao word count: 1.2k note: inspired by the events of friday night in which i had 1.3 bottle of soju and promptly passed out while unmuted all night in my discord server lmfao
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as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
navigation › masterlist › ko-fi
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the first thing you do when you wake up is scowl.
at the sun. at the sky. at the cars and at the people going about their day on the street below. at soonie and doongie when you find them just peacefully existing in their respective corners of the room.
at minho who's looking at you from the doorway with an amused expression on his face.
"look who's finally up," he says, approaching the bed with a glass of water in his hands. "it's almost 1pm, heathen."
you groan, covering your face with your hands as you try to sink further into the mattress. "why are you so loud today?"
"this is my normal volume?"
"your normal volume is loud."
"hmm, could this be because last night you knocked back an entire bottle of soju and then some and therefore you have a raging headache right now?"
you blink, still delirious from the night before. it's obvious that the alcohol hasn't completely left your system and minho is right. there's a pounding in your head and you wish it would stop.
you ignore his sassy quip, trying to recall what happened. "how did i get home?"
it was supposed to be a cozy night in with your friends. you'd been looking forward to last night for weeks because all of you had been so busy with your respective lives, and a fun girl's night was desperately needed. to catch up, to gossip about your partners, to escape your tiresome realities for a few hours.
and of course, to unwind and drink. not to the point of being blackout drunk; just to de-stress a little.
"how do you think?" minho asks, holding out the water for you until you muster enough strength to sit up and take it from him. he watches as you greedily gulp down the liquid to satiate your dry throat, giving him back the empty glass when you're done and lying back down again. he sets the glass on your bedside table before he joins you under the covers. "boyfriend of the year went out in the middle of the night to drag your ass home."
"you took me home?"
"i just said boyfriend of the year, didn't i?"
despite his smartass attitude, minho still snakes an arm around your body to pull you close to him, until your head is lying on his chest while he strokes your hair gently.
"it was just soju. plum soju!" you try to justify your actions, throwing a leg over his and snuggling further into the warmth of his body. "only thirteen percent!"
minho scoffs. "that's how they get you. the fun flavors make you think that you're gonna be fine if you do just a couple more shots. next thing you know, you're sending your boyfriend gibberish messages at 2am."
to emphasize his point, minho shows you his phone, goes straight to the text thread you two share.
you mostly sent him nonsense, seemingly a lot of keyboard smashes and blurry drunken selfies of you and your friends. then came the last few messages.
you: oh naue why rom sponnign you: i wsntto go homrr you: mimo tskeeee me homeee
"oh." you purse your lips. "drunk me was a moment."
"no, she was a lot of moments actually. you stayed up for almost two hours after i brought you home."
"doing what?"
your boyfriend looks down at you, an unimpressed look on his face before he rolls his eyes and sighs, recanting the story of how you exhausted him just hours prior.
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"stop squirming," minho said, trying to keep your head from lolling to the side as he wiped at your face with a cotton pad doused in micellar water.
but you kept giggling, kept trying to hold his cheeks so you could kiss him. "mimo, you're so pretty. my pretty, pr-" hiccup! "pretty mimo."
it took him thirty whole minutes just to take your makeup off, then another forty five to go through your skincare routine.
-
it was an entire struggle to get you out of your clothes and into your sleepwear because apparently, the feeling of him tugging your blouse over your head and sliding your jeans down your legs tickled that amorous part of your brain - your horndog side, if you will.
you instantly latched onto him, climbing on top of him to sit on his lap, attempting to trail kisses along his neck when all minho was trying to do was put your t-shirt on.
"not now," he scolded you lightly, pushing you away by your shoulders before he held your arms up just long enough to slip the shirt over your body.
"whyyy not?"
"mostly because you're about ten seconds away from passing out."
but that wasn't something that your intoxicated brain could comprehend. all you understood was that your boyfriend didn't want to have sex with you, that he was rejecting you.
you went quiet all of a sudden, your lips pouting, your eyes turning glassy before you practically sob, "you don't want me anymore."
minho could only sigh.
-
"what now?" he had finally managed to get your restless ass into bed, thinking you'd surely knock out within seconds of hitting the sheets. but when he returned to the bedroom five minutes later, having cleared away your clothes to be put in the washer in the morning, minho found you lying on your side, your eyes glued to your phone, your face illuminated by the blue light coming from the device. "why aren't you sleeping?"
you were going through your camera roll, watching your old videos like they were your favorite tv show. videos of you and him, videos of him and the cats, or just random videos of him that you took when you thought he wasn't paying attention.
it was cute how you were so immersed, how you kept giggling and making heart eyes at the version of minho captured on your phone. it made him smile, just standing there and watching you like that.
it was beyond endearing, but it was also fucking 4:18am.
minho snatched the device away from you and put it somewhere you couldn't reach before he settled into bed with you.
"i miss my mimo," you whined. "give me back my mimo."
he knew there was no use in telling you that you didn't need to miss him when he, the object of your affection himself, was lying next to you. instead, he just yanked you closer, tucking your face into the crook of his neck and holding you tightly so you couldn't move, hoping that it would eventually lull you to dreamland.
"your mimo is right here. now go to sleep, you menace."
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"and not to mention you kept-"
"nope." you put a hand over minho's mouth so he would shut up. "i've heard enough."
he pushes your hand away. "i deserve compensation for what i had to go through last night."
"the satisfaction of taking care of your wonderful girlfriend wasn't enough for you?"
"no," he says. then, you both just stare at each another for a few minutes.
"fine," you relent. "i'll make it up to you with one hundred kisses."
"i want a cat tower."
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ziggyzolch · 18 days
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Queen Bee-atch Ⅴ (Regina George x Reader)
Warnings: Mentions of eating disorders (bulimia) but no explicit description of it.
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"No! Of course I'm not on board." Being zoned out for most of the week, you hadn't been listening to Janis' rambling, so you had no idea of her plan for Cady. Sighing, Janis sets her guitar to the side. "Dude, we've been talking about this plan for weeks, your opinion won't stop it." Damien chimes in from his place at your desk, "Yeah girl, Regina needs to be humbled. If anything, we're helping her." 
You invited your friends over the second you got home from Regina's, with the intention of having a jam sesh, until you heard Damien bring up the next step of their sabotage plan. You roll your eyes at Janis' nodding, getting up from the floor. "No, this is insane. Regina doesn't need to be 'humbled'." Cady peaks her head out of your bathroom, your mascara in her hand, "Yes she does! She was about to steal Aaron away from me."
Your eyes bulge out of your head, "Are you fucking serious? That's what this is about?" Janis rolls her eyes at you, "You know what this is about. She made our lives a living hell in freshman year!" You scoff, shaking your head and taking your guitar from her, "Wow, people think you're a pyromaniac. Boohoo." Janis stands up and pushes your shoulders, making you drop your guitar,
"Regina treated me like shit!"
You push her back, "Me too! You don't see me overreacting about it!"
"This," She shoves you, "Is not an overreaction. You didn't even know her! She was my best friend! Becoming an antisocial bulimic bitch is an overreaction." The silence that follows is deafening.
Tears well up in your eyes, "Fuck you, Janis. You're a hypocrite, you're all hypocrites!"
You point at Cady, "You're literally dressed like a plastic right now. Also, you ditched me when I was blackout drunk, for a boy that you barely just met!" Turning your gaze towards Damien and Janis, "You guys don't sit alone because everybody hates you. You hate everybody! You are no different from Regina, you just hide it better."
"You hate everyone too!" Janis retorts, while Damien and Cady look at each other awkwardly. "Maybe, but I don't seek petty revenge on everyone that's ever wronged me! You don't think I hate Regina for what she's done?" You sit down on the ground, calming down. "I do, but making her miserable won't make me any happier, and it won't make you happier either." Janis sighs, taking a seat next to you, Cady and Damien following. 
"Fine, we won't do it, but we can't take back what we've already done." Janis slaps Cady in warning. You raise an eyebrow, "What's that supposed to mean?" Damien sighs, "We may have...been responsible for her recent weight gain and pimples." You groan, falling backwards and laying down on the floor, "You guys are horrible. At least you can start sitting with us again, Cady...Cady?" You all turn to her as she looks up from her phone, "I just need one more day."
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It's been a couple of minutes since English class started. You were assigned to finish up the book report, so it was basically a free period. Feeling a tap on your shoulder, you slam your laptop closed.
"Uh, what were you doing?" You turn towards Regina, noting that she's wearing sweatpants, "Watching porn..?" She takes her seat, raising an eyebrow at you. You stare at her while she slowly drags your laptop towards her, opening it and turning it on. 
Papa's pizzeria pops up on your screen. "In what world would watching porn be a better explanation than playing a game?" Regina looks at you in disbelief. "I panicked! I thought you were the teacher." She huffs out a laugh and pulls out her notebook while you take your laptop back. Regina turns to you, opens her mouth, then closes it and turns back to her notebook.
You ignore it, but after she does it for the fourth time you decide to ask,
 "Are you having a stroke-" 
She interrupts, "I'm sorry!" 
The class goes quiet, curious at what she could possibly be apologizing for. "Oh, uh. We don't have to talk about that." You scratch the back of your neck. She sighs and moves her chair to face you. "No, we do." You pinch the bridge of your nose before standing up and grabbing her arm, ignoring the teacher's objections and dragging her out of class. "Regina, we were young and stupid, it's fine." 
Her face contorts in anger, "It's not! I was horrible to you, more than I was to anyone else. You didn't deserve that," She looks you up and down, "I shouldn't have made you feel like you needed to change anything about yourself."
You were speechless, Janis would never believe this. "Thank you, really, but I'm just one person out of hundreds that you've been horrible to. Why are you so worried about my opinion specifically?" She sputters while you raise your eyebrows at her, waiting for a reply. She rolls her eyes and drags you to the janitor's closet. Her eyes dart around the room, looking at everything except you. "I like you." 
Your expression remains unchanged, "Uh okay, I like you too, you've been a good friend- Oh." Your eyes widen in realization. Regina panics at your silence and attempts to backtrack, "Oh, pfft, yeah that's what I meant! Friends, you're a good friend- mph!" You press your lips to hers, wrapping your arms around her neck. 
After the initial shock, Regina relaxes into the kiss and places her hands on your waist, pushing you against the wall. The bell stops Regina's wandering hands, and you push her away, catching your breath. "This talk isn't over, Blondie." Regina smiles at you, "Come over today, we can talk all night long, puppy." You blush at the nickname and innuendo, lightly shoving her when she laughs. "Stop! Look, Janice has an art competition tonight. Can you come with me? You're gonna have to apologize to her too." 
Regina shakes her head in disgust before you add, "I'll come over after and we can have that 'talk'-" 
"I'll come!" 
✮✮✮
Gretchen was pissed. Regina had blown her off for you, ditched her and Karen at a party for you, and walked out the janitor's closet with you! For her to have the audacity to try and sit at their table, in sweatpants, after all of that.
"Those rules are bullshit-"
Karen jumps in, "They weren't that day I wore a vest!"
"Yeah because that vest was hideous!"
"You can't sit with us!" The cafeteria goes quiet at Gretchen's screech. You, Janis, and Damien turn to face the commotion. "These are all that fit me right now," You can make out Regina admitting quietly. Gretchen turns to Cady, waiting for her decision. Your eyes bulge out of your head when you hear Cady's answer. Turning to Janis and Damien, you ask,
"Does she know the plan is off? Did she not hear anything we said?"
"She does! I don't know why she's acting like this." Janis replies,
Your jaw goes slack, "You literally made her like this."
"Look, maybe this is just a one time thing!"
The conversation is interrupted by Regina yelling, "Take a picture, it'll last longer." Your heart breaks for her, you make a mental note to talk to Regina. Trying to defuse the awkwardness, Damien brings up Janis's art competition. "Look, Cady promised she'd be there. We can talk to her about this then!" You scoff, "Yeah, we'll see." 
✮✮✮
A/N: I couldn't fit the Christmas dance thing in so i worked around it. Also, I don't really know how to reply to them but I promise I check all the reblogs and comments and I appreciate them. Thank you for reading!
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aseaofyoongi · 1 year
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just desserts | jjk
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jeon jungkook x reader (f)
genre: one night stand; neighbors; set in the summer cause i miss it dearly.
rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)
summary: jungkook is your next door neighbor who you have only crossed a few words with. however one hot summer day theres a city wide blackout and strangely enough, he shows up at your door w brownies. . and other delights.
warnings: crush culture; mentions of lack of confidence; masturbation (f.); foul language; naughty thoughts; penetrative sex; unprotected sex (wrap it up); dry humping; oral (m. receiving); praise; sub-ish jk!; jk has a huge dick;?brief mention of seokjin and joon; oc is very hørny for jk basically; those fucking gifs of jk w his long hair and glasses inspired this so thank you jeon jungkook; edited but excuse any mistakes please.
word count: 6,3 thousand words
posted: monday - january 30, 2023
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A sixth floor walk up in the middle of the scorching month of July was certainly not fitting on your basis of an ideal home. But after your extensive apartment search always ended with high-priced, rodent infested corners New Yorkers often mistook for apartments, you were happy to shake on the deal for this studio apartment with Seokjin without having to break your piggy bank or burn a staggering hole in your pocket.
“When is the elevator going to be fixed, Seokjin,” you fanned yourself as beads of sweat adorned your white tank top.
“That’ll have to be when I finally win the lotto,” he guffawed from behind the plexiglass square standing between you and his office.
“Very funny,” you mumbled, beginning your journey up the stairs. He didn’t hear you though, instead his focus remained on whichever drama he played on the television.
Kim Seokjin, was the name of a superstar—or so he says. He claims to have attended the Juilliard School for about two years, with dreams of becoming the newest face of Hollywood and all of their high-priced productions. When Seokjin’s dad fell ill, he couldn’t keep up with the demands of keeping so many residence buildings open, he had to close more than half his buildings and just like that, financial strains created a hurdle the size of Mt. Everest in the life of Seokjin. He was left without his dreams, without his father and taking care of a building where the rent was too cheap to gain a profit, making just enough to cover the mortgage.
Normally, you weren’t so exposed to details of your landlord’s lives, but Seokjin was different. He was also your friend.
“I put water bottles around the halfway mark. The last thing I need is a lawsuit over a dead body,” he yelled up as you barely made it to floor two.
“How considerate. I’ll try not to die while you’re on the clock,” it was too hot to continue your journey up. . too hot to form coherent sentences. You just wanted to make it to your apartment and sit in front of the fan for the rest of the day.
“That’s all I’m saying,” you heard.
Once your foot met the landing on the third floor, your eyes desperately scanned for the promise of beverages Seokjin had informed you of, but the small table set-up on the other end of the hallway was completely empty. Leaving behind only the particles of dust and pure oxygen to inhale. Fuck—you actually felt like you were going to pass out. Just three more floors.
You wanted to yell down a snarky remark towards Seokjin but you figured that required too much energy you simply did not have.
Moving to New York was a decision you had made impulsively after feeling like you had overstayed your time in your parents house post-high school. You averted college at all costs because it just wasn’t for you. Lectures seemed like a bore and professors were individuals being paid to legally torture their students so you joyfully averted that nightmare all together. Your immediate option was to get a job, but after many places began getting closed down back home, you found yourself job hopping as a means for survival.
It was not convenient, so you boarded a train to the city that never sleeps in hopes of never looking back. . And you haven’t since setting foot here eleven months ago.
“Just one more floor,” you uttered to no one in particular but the patchy silver handrail and the chipped white walls.
Your apartment was now in your line of vision and the only thing standing between you and the black steel door were just ten sets of stairs. Walking into the building your body was glistening with a thin layer of sweat but now you were drenched, your top was sticking to your skin and the thick beads of dampness rolled down your body like the condensation on soft drinks from fast food places.
Heaving with exhaustion you took a seat on the very last step of the sixth floor, finally you made it but you just needed a minute, just a single minute to catch your breath. The fucking heat was unbearable; intolerable; irregular, you could have sworn the sun inched closer and closer to planet earth as the day progressed.
Initially, you hadn’t heard as much as the squeaky hinges on the door frame, you were too divulged in your suffering from the days heat. Not to mention, your eyes were closed and you were too focused in a state of cooling down before hiding behind the thin walls of your apartment.
“Are you ok?” His voice became trapped in the muggy air surrounding the two of you. The bass in his tone never ceased to make your knees turn to jello, to make your toes curl and to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand straight.
Was the heat not enough suffering for one day?
“Oh,” you cleared your throat, “I’m fine. It’s just the heat.”
“Yeah, it definitely feels like we were shipped straight to hell today.”
“I don’t know, I think hell might be cooler than this,” he chuckled lightly—you’re foolish stammer and poor excuse of words enlightened him. The sun was still beaming brightly but you swore you saw stars after he had serenaded you so sweetly with the sound of his infectious laugh.
“I think you might be right,” he locked his door and walked past you on the stairs, “have a good day neighbor.”
“You too, Jungkook,” you called after him as he began his way down the unfortunate set of stairs.
Sometimes, you felt as if you’d been blessed as the main lead in the plot of a cheesy rom com, but after today the idea was really cemented in your head. Ok, look. . Jungkook was your hot neighbor, like very hot, unearthly hot, like he was handcrafted by God himself, kind of hot. Furthermore, only you and him resided on the sixth floor, living in a pair of tiny apartments right beside one another. Although that was all you had gathered so far, besides his name, it was enough to fill your head with delusions and daydreams of the man your eyes loved to gawk at every chance you got.
You read him very well, like the everlasting pages of your favorite novel. His silky hair was long and inched over the nape of his neck, he wore specs that sat perfectly on the bridge of his nose accentuating his big doe eyes. Though his features seemed soft his aura was borderline the complete opposite—a silver hooped piercing sat in the right side of his rosette lips while tattoos peeked right out of the sleeves of the white button up he usually wore.
You closed the door to your apartment, removed your shoes and hung your keys on the flathead thumbtack pierced into the wall by the front door.
The apartment felt even more scorching than the bustling sidewalks. After opening all three of the windows you were bestowed to have between your room and the living room, you turned on your fan and walked into the bathroom to draw a much needed cool bath. Stripping off your sweaty clothes, you stepped into the tub. For a minute, you were immersed in the utter silence floating around you—all your ears detected was the distanced whirring fan all the way from your room.
Behind the back of your eyelids, the world was dark and your thoughts brought you back to your encounters with Jungkook on the stairs just moments ago. Your interactions with the boy were usually extended to a whispered, ‘hi’ or ‘hello,’ never as prolonged as it played out today.
In your thoughts, Jungkook strolled by day and night, as you embraced every look, every utterance, every single time he brushed his hair back using his slender fingers. He was the cultivation of your desires and the reason why your heart strummed against your chest a bit harder the days you saw him leaving around 12PM every afternoon.
It baffled you how he always managed to look fucking good every single day—even during the hottest days of the summer, while you looked like vile beast he managed to look so perfect.
. . So fucking perfect.
The faint tingles traveling through your body, caused your skin to form goosebumps. The pulsation of your clit is what really began driving you to clouded thoughts to imagine his hands against you. You imagined the pads of his fingers to be soft mimicking a delicate velvet fabric and while you crumbled under his touch, he would murmur the filthiest of words against your ear.
Those ministrations could be enough to have you coming hard—he wouldn’t even have to fuck you. Shit, even looking at him was enough.
Being away from all of the toys you safely stored in your nightstand, you grabbed the detachable shower head and adjusted the water pressure, prepped your feet up on the rim of the tub aiming it in between your legs in an inevitable attack against your clit.
Your head lulled back in sure bliss as you fed your carnal desires, the only thing missing was him.
“Fuck—” How you longed for him to have you in this position, so sensitive to his sinful doings; so aroused for him. It was like a hunger your fingers, toys and this stupid shower head could not satisfy.
The vibration of his name dripped from your lips like a chant and you felt that bubbling fervor form in the pit of your stomach. Spurts of pleasure rushed out of you so intensely you were overwhelmed by the explosions of fireworks as soon as your orgasm erupted.
When your breath had settled and you finally felt like you could stand, you opted for a quick shower, rushing to get into your pajamas and plopped down on your bed right in-front of the fan for a nap, having your dreams quickly invaded by him.
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Work sucked on Monday afternoons.
All you ever did was stare out of the ticket booth at the movie theater as the few customers who despised the weekend rush came in. Besides, there was rarely anything to occupy your mind with on slow nights like this. You had already sweeped and your co-worker, Namjoon was surveying the screening rooms for any shenanigans the younger crowds could possibly be rattling up.
You always left that up to him—he was the more intimidating one between the two of you anyway.
“Room 5 is a wreck,” Namjoon announced his entrance into the lobby, “I’m gonna go clean up.”
“Walkie me if you need help,” you tapped the walkie clipped onto your belt buckle and he nodded, grabbing the broom and a few rags.
Your stomach grew irritated as you continued golfing down copious amounts of candies but the truth was you were starving and had no time to eat breakfast this morning; let alone make something to bring to work to eat for lunch.
Namjoon was a film major. He was the spitting image of a cliche by the way—his parents wanted him to become a doctor but that wasn’t his passion so he ran away to the city and began trotting up the golden stairs to his dream. You wished you had even an ounce of his determination, he knew exactly where he wanted to go and how to get there while you still stood at the base of the mountain of your life. . unbeknownst on how to tackle it or which way it was to begin your way up to the summit.
There was nothing you had a passion for and quite frankly sometimes you were utterly clueless as to what your purpose was in life.
Had no dreams and no goals to strive towards; nothing extraordinary you expected to blossom in your future. There was nothing, nothing and more nothingness occupying the hours of your days.
“My child,” Seokjin walked in through the glass door, he looked like he'd been chilling in an oven.
“Seokjin,” you narrowed your eyes in his direction, “what are you doing here? I thought you never left the air conditioner in your office plus don’t you hate the movie theater?”
“You’re absolutely correct. The dimmed lighting here is horrid and I deserve better than that. .”
“Of course, you do.”
“But,” he leaned over the counter, “I saw your little neighbor boyfriend leaving the building today and I was fucking gagged.”
“Trust me, Seokjin. I know how good he fucking looks in that white button up. I’ve lived it.”
“No,” he squealed, “He had a black short sleeve shirt today and—”
“Spit it out, bitch.”
“He has a full fucking sleeve,” he squealed.
“No. Fucking. Way.” The pauses in between your words were not placed for dramatic effect—you were in fact attempting to paint a detailed mental image of that sinful man.
How unfair is it that he gets to walk around us mortals with our average looks while he exudes such grand flawlessness.
“Looks like someone owes me fifty bucks.”
The bet. . you had completely forgotten about that.
“I'll pass it over on Friday once I get paid.”
“I told you,” he began, “once a man gets one tattoo they’re usually covered in them.”
“Yea, but he has this soft look to him, you know?” you shrugged, “I thought he might have had a few. But a whole sleeve?”
“Jungkook is a walking juxtaposition.”
“I suppose he is.”
Seokjin sat on the counter emptying a handful of sweets into his palm, “what are you doing eating all of this candy anyway?”
“Uh,” your thoughts were still filtered towards Jungkook. You wanted to see him so bad, “I’m starving and just waiting on Namjoon to finish cleaning room five so I can go on my lunch break.”
“Namjoon as in the buff hottie with the deep voice?”
“I guess.”
“Room five?” You nodded.
“I’ll take one ticket for whatever the fuck you guys are showing right now.”
“Didn’t you say you hated it here?” You printed a ticket to. . you looked down, to the latest minion movie and ripped off the top half, “you complained about the lights or something.”
“Can you just give me a ticket? I need it to execute my master plan,” he rushed your actions in cutting the ticket you had printed, “besides you owe me for coming all the way down here with vital intel about your secret crush.”
“I owe you nothing. I’ll be paying half a hundred for that by the end of the week, remember?”
“Consider this,” he snatched the ticket from your grasp, holding it beside his toothy grin, “your down payment.”
Before you could form a further argument, Seokjin vanished from in front of you and sprinted down the main hallway to screening room five.
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The best thing about your job were the designated days off you had throughout the week. Tuesdays and Fridays were yours to enjoy and while today was Tuesday your schedule was still jam packed with an abundance of errands to complete come the early morning.
You had paid your utility bills, finished your laundry, cleaned your apartment and even set out poultry to defrost by the time you made it back home. It had been a very productive day.
Your last stop was the grocery store.
Oftentimes, you’d wander aimlessly, losing yourself in each aisle wondering about how the better half lives, how much better life would be if you didn’t have to keep incessant reminders of your weekly budgets stamped to the back of your head.
How much easier life would be if money wasn’t such a big determinant in the choices we were forced to make in our day to day lives.
Oh, how much easier life would be.
You only grabbed the essentials for the next couple of weeks including—rice, greens, fruits, water, milk, meat, and a variation of breakfast options.
Temptation roamed in the air as you headed out of the cereal aisle you were face to face with a bakery section where an unhealthy amount of baked goods were sprawled out—practically blaring out your name. All of the delicious delights made your mouth water and you couldn’t help but gravitate deeper and deeper, guided by the aroma of the sweet desserts.
“Neighbor?” It was his earthy voice, the same one you’d only heard vibrate among the walls of the tiny hallway of the sixth floor the two of you shared.
“Jungkook?” You looked up from the brownies and your eyes met his figure, in the same clothes you usually saw him leave his apartment. It was his work uniform, “You work here?”
“Is that judgment in your tone I hear?”
“N-no,” You stammered. Was he fucking with you? He had to be fucking with you. “Of course not. I would never judge—”
“I was just playing, neighbor.” Phew.
“I always come here. How come I haven’t seen you before?”
“I’m usually baking in the back. I was just coming out to set these down,” he held up the dozen cupcakes sitting inside the boxed packaging.
“You bake?” Hopefully, you sounded more stunned than judgemental because you were i. fact stunned.
“I’m an aspiring pastry chef. I go to culinary school,” Jungkook, your beautiful, doe eyed, tattooed, pierced neighbor was also a baker. Ok.
For some reason that made him so much more attractive.
“I would not have been able to guess that even if I tried,” You mentally kicked yourself at the lack of filter in your words. You weren’t trying to offend him and hopefully he does not take it as such.
He chuckled—that’s a good sign, “People tend to simulate that very reaction but you can certainly knock on my door if you’re ever craving something sweet. I promise they are amazing.”
Craving something sweet?
Your thoughts traveled back to the enticing thoughts you possessed a few days ago while you took a bath, the vivid image of the water pressure against your cunt and the pure desire to have him near made you dizzy. And now he was near, just a couple of feet away.
A wave of warmth traveled through your extremities, the pulse on your clit turned to an overbearing throb, you wanted to rub your thighs and alleviate the feeling. But you remembered where you were, in the middle of the grocery store and Jungkook still stood right before you. Nevertheless, you tried to ignore the wetness pooling between your legs; dampening your panties.
“I practically poured out all of the basic details of my boring life. I think you owe me at least something about you.”
“There’s not much to tell,” you shrugged, “but I work at the movie theater down the street if that piques your interest at all.”
“It does. I love movies.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you there before.”
“Well, if I’m honest I haven’t gone in a long time but that’s only because work and school keep me pretty busy.”
The lust streaming through your body doubled to make your heart beat with fondness and you grew endeared in the way Jungkook’s eyes lit up when he talked about his aspirations to become a baker.
“You’ll have a free ticket waiting for you whenever your schedule clears up.”
“Promise you’ll join me when I decide to go.” His words carved themselves into your brain like a permanent tattoo, just as those decorating his arm. The fluttering feeling in your abdomen heightened as a result of the dithers, without being aware of it, that is the effect Jungkook had on you.
“As long as it’s on a Tuesday or Friday.”
“Deal.”
“I’ll see you around, Jungkook.”
“See you, neighbor.”
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Thursday was the worst day of the week so far.
Technically you were supposed to be at work, it was already 4:00PM, but instead you were still home. Even just sitting down in the muggy atmosphere of your in the miniscule space, you were doused, staining your clothes with sweat.
You were not willingly suffering at the lack of mercy the scorching weather subjected the city and everyone in it to, unfortunately the power had gone out. And while usually you had the luxury of a fan to cool down, today you had nothing.
Your windows and front door were left wide open in an attempt to cool down the place and still you felt as if you were sitting inside a fucking oven set to hightest temperature. There was no use.
“Neighbor.” Jungkook called out lightly knocking on the opened door.
Jungkook? Not Jungkook again when you looked like an absolute wreck.
“Hey Jungkook,” he stood at the door frame, a wide grin painted on his lips—he held a to-go box in his hands, “you can come in.”
“Do you want me to shut the door?”
“Sure,” you gave in, it’s not like it was actually doing anything. Besides, the last thing you needed was one of the crazy residents from the lower floors coming to bug you.
Jungkook took a seat next to you on the couch, he wore a sleeveless top exposing all of the ink embellishing his skin, every line, every curve, every word was so intricate and seemed so unique to him.
“I didn’t know you had these many tattoos,” a small fib was a price to pay to not seem like a weirdo, “did any of them hurt?”
“Some did,” he pointed at his tricep, “mainly these and a few others but I have a high pain tolerance.”
“Well, they’re beautiful,” you scanned his arm some more. It was truly like a mural embodying the beauty of art, “were you a singer?” you signaled at the microphone sitting on his forearm.
“I guess you could say that,” he adjusted himself on the couch, his nylon shorts rode up his thighs and you just hoped he wouldn’t notice the way your eyes glanced down constantly. Jungkook didn’t notice though, he was too busy averting eye contact and scratching the back of his head, “My highschool friends and I used to make music. We recorded a mixtape.”
“I need a link to this mixtape. . like now,” You laughed hysterically.
“Oh no, you don’t.”
“Ok, ok,” Again, another surprise from the man you thought you had all figured out—every single day he surprised you more and more, “were you like a vocalist or a rapper?”
“Vocals mostly. I did try rapping once though but I sucked so badly they scratched it off the track.”
“At least they were honest and didn't let you crash and burn in public.”
“You should’ve seen me though. I thought I was the shit.”
Jungkooks giggles were everlasting as he recounted the many times their parents grew exhausted of kicking them out of their garages for their disturbances in the making of their great musical legacy.. He filled the room with vibrance. The longer you sat in the presence of Jungkook the more you were exposed to the colors that made Jungkook, Jungkook. Of course, you were intrigued by the phosphorescent hues allowing them to inch you closer in his direction. Wanting him to spare no details in the adventure of his life.
“What’s that?” you pointed at the packaging box beside him on the arm rest.
“Brownies,” he handed you the box, “I saw you eyeing them when you were at the bakery but you didn’t buy any. So, I figured I would bring you some.”
In your mind, this was his way of saying he was thinking about you—that’s what you chose to believe anyway.
“You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to. Besides, I wanna see what you think of my baking.” Jungkook’s eyes were bigger than usual behind his specs, he fidgeted with the hem of his shorts.
If only he knew, the actual taste of the brownies would hold no significance in your criticism. You would love them anyway simply because they came from him.
“How about we have one together?”
“Yeah?”
You nodded, “let’s go to my room. There’s two windows in there and I’m literally about to pass out from heat stroke out here.”
The two of you sat by each one of the windows, the box of his remaining six hand crafted sweet delicacies sat between the two of you on the nightstand.
“You ready?”
“Yes.”
“1, 2,” the two of you held the chocolaty dessert up to your mouth, “3.”
Even after just one bite your taste buds were enamored.
“What do you think?”
“They’re amazing, Jungkook. You’re an amazing baker.”
“You can call me Kookie, you know.”
You nearly choked after taking another bite, hurdling into a coughing spiral, “that’s so fitting. Kookie the pastry chef.”
“Forget I said it,” he shook his head, laughing.
“Wait, no,” you loved the soft tint of pink dusting his cheeks, “that could be the name of your future shop.”
“Kookie’s Cookies.”
“Kookie’s Cookies,” you confirmed, “and I wanna be credited for the idea too.”
“Better yet, you’ll be my business partner.”
“That’s not a good idea. I’ll eat everything and you’ll just end up bankrupt,” your eyes were set on the congested sidewalks outside your window—everyone was out likely catching a break from their scorching apartments but here you were melting away all at the expense of being in Jungkook’s company just for a bit longer.
“I wouldn’t mind as long as you’re with me.”
Those eight words sent your mind into a spiral, head first into the rabbit hole of your fantasies. You couldn’t really make out if he truly meant what you thought he meant.
“Jungkook. .”
“I mean it.”
“Please don’t make me believe there could actually be something here,” Your voice was low and your thoughts were a scribbled mess. There was not a single coherency in your being at that point in time.
“I’m not lying,” your name tasted saccharine on his tinted lips—much like the brownie he had baked for you, “I like you.”
“Jungkook. .” was all you could muster.
“I’ve liked you from the moment you moved into the building.”
A single strike of thunder traveled down your spinal cord, you felt paralyzed in that moment and his sweet sweet words just continued looping inside the walls of your skull.
You were malfunctioning; shocked.
It’s astonishing how oblivious and just plain stupid human nature can make a person. For the past months, you had concealed the schoolgirl crush you developed on Jungkook and convinced yourself that there was absolutely no way in hell he could like you back.
Your insecurities had deceived you and now you sit here after so long with a thumping beat in your heart, giddy with excitement and lowkey wanting to slap yourself for not having noticed earlier.
“You like me?”
Obviously, he just fucking said that. He nodded.
“I like you, too.” You finally said out loud.
The temperature continued to rise in the small bedroom and between the two of you the heat became unbearable. With each passing second, you could feel the streamline trickles of your sweat cascading down your temples; your entire body matter of fact.
If eyes were the windows to the soul then Jungkook’s chocolate gaze was compelling.
And they were calling out for you so loudly.
“What happens now?” He pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose.
“Can I kiss you, Jungkook?”
You caught on to Jungkook’s mannerisms and body language rather quickly within the past hour. For example, he was pretty straight forward with his words yet whenever he spoke his fingers fidgeted with a random object as a distraction, this time it was the black beaded bracelet sitting on his wrist.
He nodded yet again.
Your heaven resided in the comfort of Jungkook’s thighs. You realized it the moment you straddled him. The rich smell of sandalwood was a scent unique to him, so earthy and rich. It was the only thing you ever wanted to smell for the remainder of your time on earth.
After raking your hands through his soft hair you tugged at it a bit, guiding his face up towards you.
“If you want anything from me. You’re gonna have to use your words, Jungkook.”
“You know what I want,” his eyes traced the corners of your lips down to the intricate details, “just kiss me, please.”
There are an abundance of perfect scenarios in life. For one there was the idyllic scene of snowfall on Christmas day; the legendary creamy combination of cookies and cream; then, there was the way your lips danced against Jungkooks, composing a choreography so intricate and beautiful only the two of you could execute it.
You were in a haze, entirely stupefied and addicted to his soft and warm lips. Then, his hands snaked around your waist as he guided you back and forth on his lap. His covered erection rubbed against your clothed slit in a pace so slow, it was agonizing yet delectable. Jungkook pulled away, continuing to lead your movements against him. Your mouth remained agape and you couldn’t help the sounds escaping your lips.
You wanted to pinch yourself, you’d only ever dreamt of this. Was this all a fabrication of your dreams? You hope it wasn’t, it felt so good.
“God, I’ve always wanted to have you like this.” His voice was husk and he spoke in between grunts.
If today was dictated as your last day on earth, you’d die being the happiest woman.
His warm breath fanned your sweaty neck. A tickle ran down your back but you focused on the knot forming at your abdomen.
“I’m so close.”
“Let go for me.”
His commands were sweet like candy and the utters of his guidance to have you crumble on his lap were all you needed to send you over the edge.
“You were so good for me, darling.”
“Call me that forever.” Your knees were sore, your voice was hoarse and you were sweltered from head to toe but you craved more, you grew wetter just imagining what else could arise from this encounter.
“Darling?” You nodded. “Jungkook?” He hummed lightly, opening his eyes and lifting his head from where it rested on the wall.
“Are you tired?”
“I just had a long day yesterday.”
“Can I help you unwind?” your lower lip now tucked under your teeth, “can I touch you?”
“Please.”
Your hands tucked under the hemline of his shorts and underwear. The way you illustrated Jungkook in your dreams was close to what you would imagine a modern Greek God to look like and you quickly realized that was the case when his shirt lifted revealing that he should be the one on display in museums instead of those silly little statues.
Your chin rested on his shoulder, while your hand moved up and down the length of his cock. You couldn’t see it, not yet. But he felt so big in your palm.
The hushed moans and curses leaving him fueled you to maintain at the same pace. Your lips found themselves leaving wet kisses on his already dampened neck.
“Please—please don’t stop,” He was a stuttering mess, his hand was gripping the window still so tightly his knuckles turned white. Hypnotized by arousal Jungkook began meeting your movements, enraptured by his desire for release.
“You’re not being a very good boy, Jungkook,” you whispered in his ear, “besides I thought you were tired.”
“I’ll—I’ll be so good I promise,” he continued fucking himself into your hand.
Jungkook whined as soon as you released his cock from your grip. Instead you tucked off the pesky fabrics covering his lower half, with his help of course, your theories were proven to be correct. Jungkook, your hot neighbor with piercings and tattoos also had a pussy destroyer in between his legs because of course he did.
“There’s only two rules baby.”
“What are the rules?”
“You have to keep your hands to yourself and no coming until I say so. You got it?”
“Yes, darling.”
Opening the last drawer on your night stand you pulled out one of your vibrators and held it up for him to see, “is it ok if we use this?”
“Mhm.”
You shoved it in your pocket for later.
Taking him into your mouth, you began swirling your tongue in circular motions around the head of his cock. His labored pants were hushed and almost inaudible, you would’ve missed them if the two of you weren’t in complete silence.
Licking up and down his shaft you focused on pressing your tongue on the tip, as your hands began working, pumping him where your mouth couldn’t reach. You bobbed your head up and down occasionally, allowing the head of his cock pop in and out of your mouth. Slurp noises began invading the atmosphere around the two of you along with his whimpers. Your pace was fast and there were traces of your saliva coating his length entirely.
“Fuck darling,” his hands were reaching to grasp anything in his path but instead he ended up knocking everything off your night stand. “Y-Your lips were made to be around my cock. You know that?”
Jungkook’s praises were treats for your ego and you made sure to devour them in their entirety. He was a pleasant mess; his hair stuck out in all directions while his lips were swollen and vibrant with a scarlet hue as he kept biting down on them harshly. His glasses were slightly fogged and there were traces of saliva sitting on the corner of his mouth. All you wanted was to continue seeing him lose himself at your mercy.
You reached into your pocket and turned on the palm sized stimulator—you placed it against his balls before hitting the on button, setting off its vibrations. His head fell back and his hips buckled forward, causing you to gag around the majority of cock.
“I’m gonna come,” he cried out.
If anyone would’ve told you having Jungkook’s dick in your mouth would be this heavenly, you would live on your knees in front of him forever. Pleasuring him at every hour of every day but today you had different plans and once again he let out frustrated whimpers as you removed your mouth from around him.
“No—no, darling you’re fucking killing me. I need to come now,” he sounded desperate, “It hurts so bad. I need to come.”
“Don’t worry baby. We’re getting right to that,” you placed a kiss on his forehead.
“Did you bring any condoms?”
He shook his head, “I wasn’t exactly expecting things to go down this route.”
“Are you. .?”
“I’m clean. Are you?”
“I am.”
There was a timid breeze coming in through the opened window, it was enough to cool you down just a bit, well as cool as you could be without a fan.
Bouncing on Jungkook’s dick was even better than having him in your mouth. Sure, you loved the way he became a stuttering mess with the teasing of your tongue but having him deep inside of you, you felt like you were in your own heaven. On a deserted island somewhere with nothing but the swift breeze coming from the palm trees and his touch on your skin.
“You take me so well,” he whispered in your ear but you were too busy consumed by your own pleasure. Hyper focused on the way his hands dug into your waist; the way he swiftly pushed his cock in and out of you.
The sounds of your skin slapping against his blared through the room, as well as your profanities and his words of praise just as before.
Your nails dug into his shoulder as you felt a build up of tension tightening in the pit of your stomach, causing you to arch your back. Seemingly, the way you clenched around Jungkook he seemed to have noticed you were extremely close.
“Come for me darling,” with each word he buried his dick deeper into you.
It was a blissful paradise painted on the back of your eyelids as Jungkook continued to mold your insides with his dick, he was careful but rammed into you with such force, your voice was strained and you couldn’t hold it any longer. You finally came as sights of the beeming sun behind your closed eyes blinded you entirely.
“Come inside of me,” you managed; even more sweaty than how you began, absolutely tired and completely out of breath.
He chanted strings of your name as finally filled you up.
“Please come over more often and bring all of your brownies with you,” you were pressed up against him as he hugged your waist, placing a soft kiss on your head.
“How about we begin by going to that movie tomorrow?” It was so funny to you how Jungkook had practically just split you in two and now he was back to being soft spoken.
“It’s a date.”
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It was now Friday, the power was finally back on around the city and Jungkook followed through on his plans to take you to the movies. The only problem was when you approached the theater you spotted your nosey landlord standing in line right beside Namjoon. “Before you say anything, Seokjin. Please just shut the fuck up.”
“You always think the worse of me,” he placed his hand on his chest, “all I was going to say is my Cupid’s bow is to thank for the two of you finally getting together.”
“In that case, thank you Seokjin,” Jungkook said.
“Don’t thank him.”
“Actually, please do. But the next time yall fuck in my building please keep it down. Just like the walls, the floors are also thin and the fifth floor did not appreciate your day of passion.”
“Seokjin, please go back to your own date,” you hissed, hoping no one else in line heard his little rant, “pretend we’re not here.”
Jungkook’s shame sat in his now red tinted cheeks, you peppered kisses on them to ease him.
“See, they can’t even keep their hands to themselves in public,” you heard Seokjin whisper.
This is going to be an interesting date.
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a/n: this was pretty fun to write but supposed to be out on my birthday a couple days ago but i couldn’t meet the deadline sadly but please enjoy and disregard the smut scene if it’s bad. I tried lol my brain just wasn’t working 100%.
thanks for reading. comments, likes, reblogs and messages are always appreciated. let me know what you think ;)
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rookiesbookies · 4 months
Text
Different relationships that the CoD boys are in and will probably be in for most fics I write bc they give these vibes?
Featuring: Price, Soap, Ghost, Konig, Keegan, Gaz (in that order under the cut)
Price:
Wife. You both met on a dating app when the Captain was feeling lonely. Poor man got so anamored what was supposed to be one date and a fuck turned into one date, two days, four dates then fucking, then well yk. He kept you under deep protection, the boys never really learned about you but Price sends you photos of them all the time, referring to them jokingly as his sons. You’ll meet them eventually, but only when Price knows Graves and Sheppard aren’t a problem anymore.
Soap :
Fiance. After a couple years and a lot of confidence talks by Gaz, he built up the courage. He knew you’d say yes, everyone knew. Everyone knew the night you came to the bar to pick Soap up when he was blackout drunk and didnt kill him when he vomited all over your car’s dash. Ghost knew of you first to snatch up Soap’s phone to call. He was gruff and to the point about it but he felt sorry seeing Johnny cry over missing you but not wanting to leave the team during a celebration for another successful mission. Price made you promise him he’d be allowed to walk Soap down the aisle since it was, as he said, “clear who wears the pants in this relationship.”
(Fic about this posted and in my masterlist with in pinned on my account)
Ghost:
Situationship. He has too many attachment issues to be super stable and he knows it, especially with his line of work. You dont here from him for months at a time after goodbye dates, but when he comes back he’s basically living out of your apartment because it just feels better than living on base. He crashes on the couch because he doesnt want to join you in bed to make you uncomfortable or steal your bed by accident. He kicks and flops in his sleep like a fish.
Konig:
Wife. He couldn’t have put the ring on your hand faster out of fear of makimg you uncomfortable. After the second date he knew he wanted to marry you. But he waited a year to ask, it was painful for him. He asked the two of you elope, promised a ‘real’ wedding with a big white dress and anything you could ask for when the world was safer or his job slowed down. He has large enemies so he mostly keeps you as on the downlow as he can. Everyone knows not to mess with the Colonel's Wife.
Keegan:
Fiance. He promised you when you both graduated he’d marry you, lost contact not long after, reconnected a bit later, and he put a ring on you- promising he wouldn't lose you again. You’ve been engaged for a couple years but you want to be financially stable enough to do the dream wedding you both have planned on a Pinterest mood board. You’ve been his best friend since forever and met in a math class when he didn’t quite understand algebra. He says, “im not a math person,” quite often to this day.
Gaz:
Girlfriend. You met at a bar during his training way back while a friend was working as a bartender, they let you bust his ‘fake’ ID just to talk to him. He comes to see you every time he can now, cozying up in your bed and telling you the happy and fun moments he has with the boys on missions. You play Its Raining Men and he jokingly acts like he’s having flashbacks as a running gag.
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rkivepetals · 5 months
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oneshots.
Window panels (jjk)
If there’s one thing Jungkook knows about his new neighbor, is that she’s a bitch.
The witch sisters (jjk)
When your seven witch sisters come across your almost- boyfriend.
Pumpkin spiced latte (jjk)
Jungkook loves pissing you off. Really
I think we’re soulmates (jjk)
When a stranger comes to your workplace everyday to ask you out On a date and his reasons are bells ringing when he saw you. Interesting.
Blooming (jjk)
When Jungkook has a MASSSIVEEE crush on you, but he is equally massive in embarrassing himself on the first date.
Jacket (jjk)
when the rich boy of the campus suddenly came up with a favour; borrowing your jacket
Dress you up (jjk)
your (very) awkward arranged husband helps you dress up after you injure yourself.
Happy honeymoon, babe (jjk)
It’s a very awkward honeymoon season time with your very awkward lawful husband. Who was, In fact, a dildo to half the females in your university.
Overthinking (jjk)
Talking about miscarriage
Take me home (jjk)
you and your husband decide for a divorce, but, after his family reunion dinner.
Blackout (jjk)
your husband makes up to you after getting in an arguement
Do you know how to dance? (Jjk)
dancing under the rain with your husband as a stress relief
Soju (jjk)
you surprise your husband with his favourite meal on a Tuesday.
Cool beans (jjk)
a (very) handsome basketball player asks you out after you win against him.
Age gap (jjk)
your parents get you forcefully married to a guy who’s eight years older than you. And the problem is he doesn’t know it.
navigator (jjk)
When your gothic vampire boyfriend gets a revenge on a boy who harassed you. But, he needs a navigator.
sick (jjk)
Your husband is sick. And gladly, he’s extra cute when he’s sick.
napping together (jjk)
You just have a terrible day, I swear.
Kiss me (jjk)
Your best friend kisses you and things don’t go the way you thought it would.
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inspired by musical pieces.
lavender haze (midnights) (jjk)
Meet me at midnight
maroon (midnights) (jjk)
so scarlet, it was maroon.
midnight rain (midnights) (jjk)
He wanted a bride I was making my own name, chasing that fame.
Labyrinth (midnights) (jjk)
Oh no, I’m falling in love again.
mastermind (midnights) (jjk)
What If I told you none of it was accidental?
would’ve, could’ve, should’ve (midnights 3 a.m edition) (jjk)
Give me back my girlhood it was mine first.
my tears ricochet (folklore) (jjk)
I swear I loved you, ‘till my dying day.
closure (evermore) (jjk)
guilty, guilty, reaching out across the sea
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series.
the son of Aphrodite (jjk)
* ˚ ✦ Worst things manage to occur to you everytime you get tipsy in your life. Like the first time, you lost your ninety dollar engagement ring of your high school boyfriend who left you after that, and no, you didn’t return the money of the ring nor you found the ring. And the time when you got drunk and had a lesbian sex with a gay woman. Next morning they threw you out when you told that you’re not even gay at the first place, and that you thought they were your ex because of their dark blue hair. They were pretty serious about the sex. And the last time, when you woke up to get filled up with shit like you’ve sold yourself to a Greek god blah blah blah. * ˚ ✦
the secret history (jjk)
* ˚ ✦ I sip my chamomile tea, scenting thick cinnamon in the air of the cafe I sat in. The sky was done crying, though, its petrichor lingered in the air. Wet, sloppy grounds of London as I stare at it. The mansion, that held secret history no one knew. I smile. * ˚ ✦
‘tis the valentine (ot7)
* ˚ ✦ It’s nottt a series but a chain of different romance / love tropes I wrote in different shots of each member. None of the fiction is related to each other so they’re basically stand alones 🫶 * ˚ ✦
rkivepetals on tumblr.
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