#fuck maybe I should give up on life altogether

[mapofthesea]

poly!maknae line x fem!reader

genre: SMUT. Like SO MUCH of it. They’re all fuckin’. Porn with very little plot tbh

word count: 8.3k

summary: having gone years since your last real relationship and subsequent satisfying fuck, you decide its finally time to put yourself back out there at the club. For some reason, this club is full of sexy men-who all happen to be taken. As soon as you’re about to give up on men for the rest of your life, your night takes an extremely lucky turn. 

warnings: swearing, dom!maknae line x sub!reader, reader experiences some self-doubt, boys are poly and all in love with each other, use of pet names, name calling but y/n is into it, specific smut warnings: unprotected sex (simply don’t do this irl please), oral (male and female receiving), some mxm, face fucking, spit, spanking, praise kink and degradation kink at the same time, maknae line are fucking hung, dacryphilia (but very slight), double penetration, Taehyung loves readers tits, bi!maknae line, cum eating

an: I don’t proofread so if there are typos that’s why. As always, this is mature content so if you are under 18 and/or uncomfortable then please do not go beyond the cut! 

“You should really go catch a dick. Maybe that would make you less of a bitch.” The teenager pops her gum as she leaves, a loud complaint about ‘shitty customer service’ spilling to her friends as soon as she catches their gaze. 

As much as the girl was annoying-demanding a refund for a dress that had clearly been worn-her words did hold a small modicum of truth. How long had it been since you even had a satisfactory hookup? Your last long term relationship fizzled out about 2 years ago, and a few months after that you gave up on the dating scene altogether. There’s no denying the fact that you’re a bit lonely, and a lot horny, and that there’s an easy way to fix those problems if you’re just willing to put in some effort.

So you find yourself at a club for the first time in probably four years, the bass pulsing through the sticky wooden floors. A group of giggling girls pushes past you, forcing your body further into the writhing mass of dancing bodies. Your heels pinched your feet as you walked, but they made your legs look good, so you soldier through the pain to make it to the bar. The prices make you cringe, but you haven’t flirted with anyone in so long you need the liquid courage. You order two drinks, intent on sitting at the bar to get your bearings before going to well, catch a dick. The height of the stool makes you struggle to get into it, extremely out of practice when it comes to balancing in heels. The chair shakes under you as you try to settle into it, finally planting your ass down ungracefully. You puff out a breath, already feeling downtrodden about the night and looking forward to swallowing down the alcohol set in front of you. Just as you gather one of the glasses into your hand, a voice sounds from your side. 

“Excuse me, uhm,” you turn toward the source of the noise and thank the heavens you’re already sitting down. The man speaking to you is tall and built in all the right places, strong shoulders you want to sink your teeth into drawing your eyes upward until you reach his defined jawline, the plump of his pink lips that stretch into a boxed smile. His body is wrapped in a simple black button up with a subtle pattern, leaving only the top button undone to give you a glimpse of smooth skin and a chunky gold chain around his neck. Devastatingly handsome brown eyes peer down at you and you wonder when you got so fucking lucky. He seems to be alone, this perfect man, and he started a conversation with you?

He licks his lips, eyes darting pointedly down to your cleavage-thank god you chose this low cut dress- and then back up to meet your gaze. Sparks of excitement thrum over your body as he leans against the bar beside you. 

“Can I ask you what you’re drinking? It looks quite...delicious.” The deep timbre of his voice burns you from the inside out and you nod dumbly.

“They’re called electric lemonades. They’re definitely among the things I find...delicious.” You hope that you haven’t completely missed the mark in attempting to flirt back. In a different setting you would have cringed at the words, but tonight you were operating only on the desire to get fucked. The man cracks a smile and extends a hand your way. His fingers are long and adorned with rings, and you shudder at the thought of how they would probably feel inside of you. 

“I’m Taehyung,” he adds as you shake his hand. “And thank you for the recommendation...” he looks at you pointedly and you get the hint to provide your name. The feeling of his warm hand makes your voice waver as you answer him. 

“Thank you, Y/N” His hand ghosts up your wrist, giving it a small squeeze and holding on as he grabs the bartenders attention. Your heart is thrumming erratically; trying to decipher what the contact means, if your night was really going to be this easy. He turns back to you, fingers dancing on your delicate skin as you catch a whiff of what must be expensive cologne. Your head fills with lust, abandoning rational thoughts as words bubble out of you. 

“You, I think you’re-” Taehyung smirks at your stuttering, cocking his head to the side as you speak. “I think you’re really hot, and I- do you wanna get out of here?” You blurt, face flaming at the cliche you resorted to in the heat of the moment. Taehyung’s smirk morphs into a full blown smile, pearly white teeth on display. 

“Oh, Y/N. I would love to, but I’m actually-” His eyes slide over your head, gaze locking onto something, someone, behind him. Your heart stops, world crashing  in on you from overhead. 

“Oh god, no, I’m so sorry,” you scramble out of his grip on your wrist, all but leaping off of the stool to get away from him. His handsome face twists in what must be disgust of your desperation. 

“Y/N, wait, you don’t have to-” He speaks after you as you leave, drinks latched between your palms as you hurry away from the bar, desperate to find a new spot to sit and collect your mind. 

As busy as the club seems to be, you find a small booth table squeezed toward the service door that leads into the kitchen. It’s dark and secluded, the leather of the seat smooth and cold against the bare skin of your thighs. Heat still simmers at your core from your encounter, and you down an entire drink in a few gulps, welcoming the burn of vodka and sting of sour lemon juice to wash away the embarrassment of being rejected. Still, there were a lot of people here, and although you doubted you would find another as hot and captivating as Taehyung, you weren’t ready to give up just yet.

“I told you I don’t have time to talk right now!” You jump at the person who seemed to have materialized from thin air sitting at the other end of your booth. His hair is shaggy, pieces hanging around his eyes in a tantalizing fashion, the beginnings of a mullet type style evident by the long cut.  His short sleeved shirt shows off an arm of impressive tattoos you’re desperate to have a closer look at. 

“Holy shit!” You exclaim, hand clasping over your chest as your empty glass clinks against the full one. You don’t think he even heard you, dark eyebrows furrowed as he presses his phone against his ear. His free hand is digging harshly into his thigh, clearly annoyed at whoever was on the other end of the call. 

He glances your way at the outburst, a frown marring his handsome features. Your stomach dives as you process just how handsome this stranger is too. Did all the hot men in the area flock to this club tonight? His eyes don’t leave yours as he finishes up the call with a curt goodbye and you squirm in your seat at the attention. The desire to down your second drink burns in the back of your throat but you suppress it by scratching at the back of your hand. 

“I’m sorry if I scared you,” the man speaks and you catch a glimpse of his shining lip piercing. He extends a veiny, tattoo covered-hand across the table and you catch a glimpse of a delicate sliver chain around his wrist that likely costs more than five months’ worth of your rent. You extend your hand slowly to his own, hoping he can’t feel the way your hands are clamming up. 

“Jungkook.” He states simply, shaking your hand two times before dropping it gently back to the table with a deceptively adorable smile.

“Oh, hi. I’m Y/N. And it’s okay, really. I just didn’t notice you were here when I sat down...” His piercing eyes are still stuck on your form, eyebrows quirked in what now looks more like amusement. Your face flushes at his attention and you're worried that the heat will begin to melt your makeup off unintentionally. “I just, ah, hope that you’re okay. That sounded like an intense call?” 

He grunts, fiddling with the bracelet. “Been on worse calls. And at least this one brought me some good fortune.” For a moment you assume he means whatever business he must be in, but the way he licks his lips tells you a whole different story. You squirm, in utter shock at the way your evening has shaped up. “M-me?” You finally stutter, once again proving why you hadn’t been in the game for a long, long time. 

Jungkook’s eyes scan you, crinkling with a genuine smile that makes your stomach backflip. The hand you shook previously takes your own again, running a gentle line over your palm.  “Yes, you, pretty. Don’t know why you’ve secluded yourself to the furthest booth in the bar, but I won’t complain if it means I get to be the one to entertain you.” He cocks his head in a way that has no right being so attractive, and you feel your insides start to liquify. 

“Oh, thank you. I think you’re pretty too...” you deliberately dance your fingertips over his, hoping the teasing touch does a lot of talking for you. Jungkook’s eyes narrow in on the gesture, glazing over with what you believe is lust. Your heart kicks up in excitement, feeling like you had finally cracked the proverbial code. His grin widens and you feel your heart stutter at the way he suddenly grasps your hand between both of his own. “The things I would do to you, if only...” his face shifts, and you’ve done enough time in customer service to know it’s a look of disappointment. A shard of sadness strikes right through you as you wiggle out of his grip, quickly grasping your drink and downing it ungracefully in an attempt to wipe out the shame in your gut. You vaguely register Jungkook’s voice calling after you, but you power towards the dance floor, hoping to get lost in the press of sweaty bodies. 

Alcohol and embarrassment are an interesting comorbidity, and the ache to get away from the gazes of the two men you had already met persuades you to weave further into the dance floor. You don’t know the lyrics to the song that’s playing but the beat vibrates through the floor and straight into your blood, encouraging you to rock your hips. You’re vaguely aware of the heat of bodies around you as your eyes slip shut, vodka finally doing the job you wanted it to. Something loosens in your chest, a feeling not unlike taking off your bra at the end of a long day. A body presses in close behind your own, a hand skating over your side to rest just above your hip. The two of you rock along to the music and you look down to see the hand on you looks strong and capable. Your heart and pussy lurch at the same time and you dare to spin around as you rock your hips to the music. 

The man attached to the hand had to have just walked off of a runway. His eyes are rimmed in smoky eyeliner, even with his plump bottom lip trapped between his teeth you can see a hint of gloss. His hand tightens on your waist, seemingly pleased with your ogling. You lean closer to his warmth, linking your arms around his neck to pull him down to your height. He takes the bait easily, slotting his head next to your neck and ghosting a hot breath over your skin. A shiver escapes you, exasperated as the music changes and the man makes a point to press his hips forward into your own. An unbidden groan slips from between your lips and you swear you hear him chuckle. 

You move just as boldly as he is, rotating your hips forward pointedly. His hands wander to tease the curve of your hip before resting firmly on your ass at the same time he nips at a spot on your neck. 

“I’m Jimin, by the way,” his voice is devastatingly husky and low right in your ear. It makes you shiver, digging your fingernails into the lean planes of his shoulders.  “Y/N,” You answer back with a push of your hips further into his own, happy that the tight jeans he had on confirmed the bulge you thought you felt against you. A shuddering breath punches out of you and Jimin notices, nudging his nose firmly against the lobe of your ear. 

“What’s a beautiful thing like you doing out here alone?” He husks. 

“Tryin’ not to be. But I keep hitting on taken men, apparently.” Jimin abandons the spot at your neck to peer down at you, pretty eyes narrowed in to your own. Your veins thrum under his attention. There’s something in his stare you can’t explain, a quality so captivating that you don’t have it in you to look away. 

“Well, what a shame for those guys. You’re such a pretty little thing, I can’t imagine turning you down...” he smirks in a way he must know makes your knees weak, hands taking another generous handful of your ass. You pitch forward into his chest, the fabric of what you assumed to be a simple tank top feels silky and cool under your cheek. Jimin’s chest rumbles with a pleased hum, lips ghosting over the sweaty hairs on your forehead. 

“Fuck, baby. Should we get out of here?” 

Your heart jumps at his words and you nod immediately, the desire to hook your legs around his waist and let him carry you out of the club replacing all of your usual concerns. You settle for clutching at the fabric of his shirt as he begins to move the two of you out of the crowd. People part easily for the two of you and before you know it you’re in a much quieter and cooler spot. Your fingers finally unlatch from his shirt and find a place on his jawline instead, hesitating for a second before pulling him down and kissing him. You feel triumphant when he falls into your rhythm, biting playfully at your bottom lip before weaving his tongue inside of your mouth. Desire is burning in your stomach and you squirm against him, desperate to get the fuck out of here and onto doing what you’ve been craving for weeks. 

“Hey, what the hell!” Someone exclaims, obviously in close proximity. You jump, narrowly avoiding biting down on Jimin’s lips as you both turn toward the noise. He keeps you close in his grasp, arms tight over your waist- possessive in a way that makes your stomach clench. 

“Oh, hey guys. This is Y/N.” Jimin grins, nodding his head in a loose gesture towards you. Your stomach knots and flips with anxiety as your drinks threaten to make a reappearance. 

“Y/N, this is Jun-”

“Jungkook and Taehyung. Yeah, I um...” you trail off, wide eyes still in disbelief of the fact that your two failed endeavors are standing before you and seemingly are friends with Jimin. 

Jimin puffs a breath that ruffles your hair. “Wait, is she- she’s the same girl you guys were talking about? And they’re the guys you mentioned earlier?” 

The two other boys nod along with you, and despite the growing feeling of horror in your gut, you can’t help but feel hot under the gaze of all three of them. Jungkook locks his gaze on Jimin’s arms wound around you and his lip curls into a smirk. He moves in closer to your body until you can feel the heat radiating off of him. The tattooed hand you were so enamored with comes to tuck a sweaty strand of hair away from your face. 

“I really wish you would have stuck around when I called after you earlier, babe. Just lucky you found your way to Jimin.” His eyes dart to your lips and your heart pounds out of your chest. Every one of your senses heightens; the feeling of Jimin’s arms around you, the scent of Jungkook’s cologne, the way your vision is swimming with desire. 

“You can kiss him if you want,” Jimin offers, splaying his hand against your waist in encouragement. Your eyes go wide and you hear a throaty laugh- Taehyung- at your stunned expression. 

“Here’s the thing, Y/N. What you didn't let Jungkook and I get to is that we’re dating. Us, and Jimin. His eyes have gone a shade darker than they were at the bar and it makes your pussy clench. “So if you’d like to have all three of us. We’d all certainly like to have you.” 

You swear you forget how to breath as his words land and process, but the way your knees physically weaken is evidence enough of how you’re feeling. 

“Yes! I uh, yes. To all of it. Y-yes. Please.” Taehyung smirks, running his sinful tongue across his lips, and before you know it you’re all moving towards the door. You feel hazy in the best way possible as Taehyung and Jimin go to collect a taxi and Jungkook hangs back with you, attacking your lips with his own. The cold press of his piercing pulls a gasp from your mouth as he devours you in a kiss even nastier than the one you shared with Jimin. You’re more than happy to get lost in it, allowing Jungkook to guide you until you’re at the taxi, squeezing into the back seat with the other two boys. Jungkook settles you on his lap, holding you steady around the waist as the car starts and gets you back to their apartment. 

It’s a race to get up to their unit, and you can barely keep track of who is touching you where as the four of you ride the elevator up several stories. 

The inside of the apartment seems nicely decorated and clean, but you only have time to glimpse the living room before the three men are pulling you into a bedroom. 

“Look so fucking sexy, baby. I thought we’d lost you after you left me at the bar like that...” Taehyung shamelessly eyes your body, hands working underneath the fabric of your dress at your thighs. 

“Can we get you out of this?” Jungkook presses in behind you, pulling your hair to the side and playing with the delicate zipper on your dress.  “Yes, please.” You nod emphatically, head tipping forward to allow Jungkook more room. The gentle skim of his fingers on your back raises goosebumps and makes your nipples perk. 

“Shit.” Taehyung swears loudly when your dress slips down, leaving you bare aside from a simple pair of underwear. His lips immediately attach to your nipple, sucking with a fervor that your ex never came close to. Jungkook’s calloused fingers dip into the waistband of your panties and rub the soft skin at your hip before pulling them down your legs. You can feel your arousal smearing down your thighs with the movement, sure that there’s already a mess between your legs. Before you can open your mouth to defend yourself, Jimin appears, shirt already gone, to claim your lips again. 

Taehyung nips at the sensitive skin of your breast, leaving a mark that will be blooming in purple by the morning. He laves the spot with his tongue, humming against you as he helps himself to the expanse of you. Jimin lets up so you can both heave a breath. His eyes are much darker than they were on the dance floor, and the intensity of his gaze sends a shiver through you. He smirks, laying a possessive hand on top of Taehyung’s head as he continues to leave a path of marks on your torso. 

Your stomach hums with anticipation as you watch the two of them. The simple touch speaks volumes to the closeness of their relationship. Jimin grips your chin with his free hand, tipping your head upwards until you make eye contact. 

“You gonna be good for us?” You’re already nodding, and he lets out a dark chuckle. “Good little slut, letting us do whatever we want to you. Isn't that right?” A whine rips from your throat, as Jungkook’s hands find a new home in between your legs, teasing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Your body pitches forward, forcing Taehyung to back off as you move. 

“S-sorry,” you stutter, embarrassed at the way you bent over for them so easily. The feeling washes away as your angle brings you level with Taehyung’s cock, clearly strained against the fabric of his linen pants. You swear your mouth waters at the sight, itching to have him in you. Jimin’s hands find a home on your lower back, the gentle touch grounding you to the absurdity of the situation. 

Jungkook groans at the sight of your bared pussy, his hand immediately spreading your folds. You moan in tandem, eyes rolling at the pleasure.  “Shit, she’s so fucking wet.” He’s clearly speaking to the men around you, and the idea makes your cheeks flame. The squelch of your juices fills the room as Jungkook pushes a long finger inside of you. The stretch makes you gasp and quiver, having been embarrassingly long since you had anything inside of you. Your hands flail wildly until they land conveniently on Taehyung’s waist, just inches from his waiting cock. 

“Feels good?” He asks, latching his hands around your wrists and not so subtly inching them toward his cock.  “Wanna suck your cock,” you blurt the words as soon as your hand grazes him and are immediately rewarded with triplet groans from the men. 

“Go ahead, baby.” Taehyung encourages you as you find the zipper to his pants, struggling as Jungkook slips another finger inside of you and begins opening you up in a slow burn. You puff a breath when you finally get a look at Taehyung’s cock, heavy and flushed in your hand, with a prettily colored tip and strong veins under your thumb. You rub your thumb over the head and Taehyung groans, canting his hips forward into your touch. Anxiety stirs in your stomach at his size and your lack of experience, and your eyes widen at the prospect of trying to hold yourself up while being fucked on both ends. 

“Wait, I-” the words punch out of you, loud enough that the room stills. Jimin’s hands move, encouraging you to stand back upright as three concerned faces materialize in front of you. 

“Oh god, this is so embarrassing.” You groan, shutting your eyes tight. 

“We can stop!” Jungkook insists, voice surprisingly high strung. 

“No! No, I just.” You open your eyes again, licking your dried lips. “Its been a long time since I...you know. And I just, maybe we can move to the bed so I don’t like, fall?” Your eyes dart between them, expecting them to laugh or maybe tell you to just suck it up, but instead a low coo spills from between Jimin’s plush lips. 

“Poor girl, you haven’t been fucked in so long you’re worried you won't be able to handle us? Come on.” He leads you the few steps to the bed, laying you down with your back on the cool comforter. His pretty hair falls around his face and your hands are immediately in it, relishing in the soft feeling of his locks between your fingers in a way that grounds you to the moment. All you can focus on is how handsome he is, and how lucky you are to have found yourself in this situation. His lips descend on your own as if he can read your mind, grabbing at your waist with both capable hands. The kiss tastes like alcohol and you can't get enough, welcoming his tongue inside of your mouth in a messy swap of spit. Your noses squish together, as close as humanly possible to one another, until a sharp moan throws you out of your rhythm. Jimin lets up when you stop, leaning to the side casually to let you get a glimpse of the other two boys. The moan belonged to Taehyung, who had apparently stripped down while you were kissing Jimin, who was at the mercy of Jungkook’s hand on his cock. Jungkook had rid himself of his clothing as well, and you couldn't decide where to look first. 

Taehyung’s neck was on display, the muscular column inviting you to take a bite out of him as Jungkook works his deft fingers along the impressive length of his cock, all while his other hand grinds slowly against his own. 

“Aren't they pretty?” Jimin’s sinful voice snakes into your ear and makes you shiver. His hands deftly work down his own pants and boxers, and you’re given a hint of what he has to offer. 

“P-please, Jimin, want you.” He chuckles at the words but obeys you, quickly slotting himself between your legs. With no barriers between you, you can feel the thickness of his cock against your pussy, the girth of him taunting you. 

“As much as I wanna dive into your pretty little pussy, she deserves some more attention, don’t you think?” A knowing smirk graces his features as he lowers himself to your stomach, skimming the skin of your stomach with his tongue. The trail he leaves is electric, sending shockwaves of arousal right to your core as he gets closer. Your hands find a home in his hair again, happy to scrape against his scalp with a gentle pressure as he finally settles between your legs.

A stream of air against your clit makes you whimper, hips bucking off of the bed enough that he loops an arm over your stomach to hold you down. 

“Fuck, Jimin, please!” He giggles from between your legs and you think you might die before his mouth even touches you. Taehyung and Jungkook have turned their attentions to you, and the sight of them both hard in front of you is enough to make your head spin. You close your eyes, and as soon as your head drops back onto the bed, Jimin makes his move. 

Maybe it's just because it had been so long since you had someone eat you out, but the first touch of his tongue brought you spiraling toward an orgasm. Your hands tighten on his locks and he groans as he laps at you, circling your clit with his tongue in perfect little circles. The noises that escape you don’t feel like your own as you rush embarrassingly fast towards cumming. Your vision blurs with tears, and you cum without a warning. A pleasant humming fills your mind as Jimin continues to eat you out, lapping up whatever you give him with a fervor that makes your toes curl. Wet tears roll over your cheeks and into your hairline, mixing with the sweat that was already there. 

So lost in the pleasure, you barely notice that Jimin had stopped until your hands drop form his hair, limp at your sides. His lips and nose are glistening with your juices, and the sight of him makes you gasp. 

“You came so fast, baby. Were you really that deprived?” You lean into the attention and nod, whining to him when he coos over you. “Such a pretty little pussy deserves attention, doesn't it?” You know he’s relishing in your submission, but you’re more than happy to fall into it when you feel so safe. 

The bed dips above your head, and you know that it’s Taehyung and Jungkook finally joining you. You crane your head backwards to find them both staring raptly at your figure, the heaving of your chest as you recover. 

“Think she's ready for a dick?” Jimin asks casually, as if you’re not right under him. You whimper, nodding your head emphatically. He finally casts a gaze back down at you, smiling with genuine kindness. After a second he leans away, allowing cold air to wash over your body. A small feeling of alarm washes over you as he backs up, and your eyes dart around as he reaches into the bedside table a few steps away. The silver packet shimmers in the low light, as as much as you admire their willingness to be safe, you shake your head petulantly. 

Taehyung’s face hovers over your own in an instant, eyebrows furrowed as he examines you. You know he’s looking for signs of distress; assessing if you need to stop, but all he sees is your pouty lip and teary eyes. 

“I wanna-” you gulp down a swallow. “Wanna feel you raw. Please. I'm on the pill and I’m clean.” You plead your case to the man above you, knowing well that they’re all listening. “I just wanna feel you...” you try again when no one says anything. Then, Taehyung’s face lights up in a smile that would seem evil if you didn't know any better. 

“Hear that, guys? Our pretty little baby wants us raw.” Excitement passes through your stomach when you see how this is going. 

“If that’s what she wants...” Jungkook chimes in, pretending like his cock didn't jump and throb at your words. Jimin comes back to you, hands empty, and grasps the meat of your thighs, hoisting them up so that they’re bent at the knees. One hand drops, and you assume he’s going to play with your pussy, but it instead comes down harshly on the juncture of your ass and thigh. 

“You nasty little thing. Want all three of us to cum in you? Fill up your little pussy like you’ve been waiting for?” The gravel in his voice makes your pussy clench and he sees it, chuckling darkly. 

“What do you say, guys? Wanna cum inside her?” A collective groan of agreement falls from everyone but Jimin, who is busy lining himself up with your soaking entrance. You heave a breath in anticipation as Taehyung and Jungkook move to flank your sides, eager to have their hands on you. “We’re all clean too, baby. Nothing to worry about.” Jungkook suddenly assures you, tracing a gentle line down your arm closest to him. 

At your nod, Jimin presses forward, beginning his descent into you. The stretch is already unbelievable, much more intense than your tiny vibrator. He reads your body well, taking his time to enter you as you gasp and writhe. Taehyung and Jungkook do their best to soothe you, helping to pain morph into pleasure as Jimin is finally fully inside of you. 

“Holy shit, you feel so good.” His voice is airy with pleasure and it inflates your ego just a bit. He begins a steady rhythm, splitting you open with every movement of his hips. A gasp stutters out of you when you realize just how big he is, tears brimming once again at the pure pleasure he’s giving you. It doesn't take long for him to increase his pace, fucking into you so hard that you’re pushed further onto the bed, tears spilling freely. Jungkook and Taehyung have each taken the liberty to attend to one of your nipples, pinching and licking at them as they please while Jimin wrecks you. 

“Look so pretty when you cry, baby. Sweet little crybaby letting me ruin her pussy, huh?” Jimin’s words add fuel to the fire in your stomach, and you cry even more as he hits a spot inside you that you didn't even know existed. 

“I’m getting close, Jimin-” your voice is stolen from you as Jungkook takes the opportunity to work two large fingers over your sensitive clit, heightening every sensation into a burning desire in your stomach. 

“I’m cumming!” You’re impressed the words even make it out before you feel like you’re floating, cumming around Jimin’s cock. Neither him or Jungkook let up as you scream their names, hands scrabbling for something to anchor yourself. White spots cloud your vision, and as the sensation passes you realize that your whole body is trembling. Taehyung’s planting kisses on your collarbones, murmuring things you can't quite understand yet. Jimin and Jungkook’s eyes are glued to your pussy, and you can feel it fluttering with the aftershocks. 

“Fuck, gimme a turn.” Jungkook is suddenly on the move, practically shoving Jimin- who was still hard- out of the way. Jimin doesn’t protest, his chest heaving from effort as he lays down next to you on the bed, immediately stealing your attention with a kiss. 

“You are so hot, you know that?” He says, brushing stray strands of hair out of your eyes. “Crying like that got me fucking harder, somehow. Shit.” You almost feel bad that he’s still hard, but Taehyung steals your attention quickly with a kiss of his own. Jungkook’s hands dance on your thighs, admiring the red marks that Jimin’s hand had made on you. His hand comes down on the opposite cheek that Jimin slapped earlier, relishing in the way you whine into Taehyung’s kiss. He lands one more on each side for good measure, and you moan so loudly that you have to pull away from Taehyung’s mouth. 

Jungkook takes the moment to tease his head against your slick entrance, and you nod fervently to tell him you’re more than ready for his cock. He’s somehow longer than Jimin, the impressive length a bit imposing as he begins to slip in. Despite just having orgasmed, he still stretches your entrance considerably. Taehyung groans along with you, sitting up for a better look as he wraps his hand around his cock. You can see now just how needy he is, the tip red and leaking. You reach for him absently, trying to keep your eyes on Jungkook as his face twists into pleasure. 

“Think she wants you, Taehyung.” Jimin interjects, warm hands enjoying caressing your side. Your mind is fuzzy with desire, as Taehyung finally gets your cues and props himself up. The sight of his cock makes your mouth water, and you open it to him with no hesitation. Perhaps wisely, he sneaks a look down to your pussy, where Jungkook had started a slow and satisfying rhythm inside of you. As if he knew the exact timing, Taehyung shoves his cock into your waiting mouth at the exact same time Jungkook ramps up his speed. 

Stuffed on both ends, you moan, surprised and delighted at how well the men worked together. Jungkook’s pace is punishing, relentless with the way he batters your pussy like it’s made for him. Lewd groans spills from him in a constant stream, and paired with the way he stretches you, you would be screaming for the whole building to hear if not for Taehyung’s cock. 

You focus on him as well as you can, relaxing your throat to let him fuck your face as he pleases. Your gag reflex threatens to make an appearance but you fight through it, enjoying the burn of your throat expanding for him. Taehyung is surprisingly perceptive to your needs and speeds up his thrusts just enough to make you feel wonderfully numb, spit seeping around his cock. The wetness drips down your chin onto your chest, but you are far too gone to find it embarrassing. Jungkook is lost in his pleasure, hips moving at an inhumane speed that scrambles your brain and sends shockwaves through your pussy.

“Pretty fucking girl, slobbering on my cock. Lettin’ me fuck your throat like a whore while Jungkook fucks you. Just a good little whore, doing whatever we want you to do, huh?” You nod at his words as best as you can, the mixture of sweat, tears and spit making your neck feel stick, but it’s all worth it when Taehyung produces the deepest moan you've ever heard. 

Jungkook mirrors him, letting out a string of high pitched whines. You choke around Taehyung’s cock at the movements and he lets up, allowing your wrecked voice to fill the room alongside Jungkook’s. With Taehyung out of the way Jungkook leans forward and leaves a bite on your neck, gasping as you feel his release fill you. The warmth makes your eyes roll back, satisfied to finally be filled with someone’s cum. 

Jungkook continues to buck his hips as he cums, laying his head down on your chest as Jimin captivates him in a kiss of his own. You’re entranced by their embrace, watching the way their tongues slip against each others as Jungkook rests on your chest. A happiness settles inside of you, not even bothered that you didn't come, as Jungkook lets out an airy giggle. He stands up and finds the strength to pull out of you, eyes glued to the mess he made inside of you. 

His cum rushes out and you clench to keep it in, loving the heavy feeling inside of you. Jungkook swears, pushing his sweaty hair back off his gorgeous forehead. 

“Fuck, you look so pretty with your pussy filled.” You’re surprised to hear Taehyung say, as he rounds the bed. They fall into their natural rhythm again as Jungkook finds his place, cuddled into Jimin’s side as if they’re watching a show. Taehyung’s eyes glint with something you can’t explain as he works a hand over his cock. 

He sees your questioning gaze and smirks. “Had to stop fucking your mouth cause I only wanna cum inside of you.” His hands find your hips, massaging the flesh there with reverence. “Flip over.” His sweet playful tone is gone, replaced by a hard dominance that churns your stomach. It takes a second to get your muscles to work, but soon you’re on your knees and elbows, head buried in the soft comforter. Taehyung groans, clearly enjoying the change in scenery as he gropes your ass. His fingers split open your pussy, watching Jungkook’s cum seep out of it. 

He takes a swipe across your pussy with his tongue, sending a moan stuttering out of you. “Tastes so good, but I can't wait to be inside of it.” 

“Please fuck me, Taehyung. I need you so bad.” You whine. The desire to have another load of cum inside of you overtakes any decorum as you shuffle your hips back against him, hoping it will make him act faster. 

“You greedy little girl. Already been fucked twice and you can't get enough?” He teases but you can hear the hitch in his voice, the way the heavy head of his cock traces against your exposed folds. He takes extra time to run the head of his cock over your engorged clit, extra sensitive since you didn't cum with Jungkook. Without warning his cock is sliding into you, pushing through the wetness of Jungkook’s come and your arousal. 

By far the thickest of the three, Taehyung’s cock punches the air out of you with the new angle. Your manicured nails grip the comforter in anticipation, and before you know it Taehyung is pounding into you. You feel like you will never catch your breath again with the way he’s moving inside of you, deconstructing your nervous system piece by piece. You’re vaguely aware of Jimin and Jungkook next to you and you turn your head in curiosity. 

Jungkook, despite his tiredness, has his lips wrapped around Jimin’s cock, eyes closed in pleasure as he bobs his head. The sight sends a ripple of pleasure straight to your core, tightening around Taehyung so much that he slaps your ass in appreciation. Jimin’s eyelids hang low but open, dangerous eyes boring right into your own as if he could read your mind. The hand that isn’t propping him up is resting gently on Jungkook’s head, and even with the momentum from Taehyung’s thrusts making your vision blurry, you can tell that Jimin’s face is the picture of sinful pleasure. 

Taehyung’s fingers seek out your clit and your instantly clench around him, your walls spasming as you fall into sensory bliss, all but drooling into the fabric below you. 

“Love this greedy little pussy, baby. So lucky we met her-” a hitch of his breath accompanied by his hips stuttering. “Come on, cum for me so I can fill you up.” His fingers somehow move faster, strumming your clit in a way that makes your toes clench and your stomach unravel. You cum with a force you didn’t know possible, gushing around Taehyung’s cock in a sticky mess. He thrusts only a few more times before spilling inside of you, slapping your ass again for good measure.  Your ears ring, happy with the numbness of your world. You can tell there are several hands on you, but who they belong to is a mystery. Taehyung’s cock leaves you and you whine, immediately missing the weight of him inside you. His cum spills out behind him and you feel like you could cry as the fullness slips away from you. You try your best to voice it as your body collapses onto the bed, but you can’t tell if they can even hear you let alone understand you. 

The edges of your vision return, fingers and toes coming back to life. You finally make out the hands on your head to be Jungkook’s, who is laying down next to you, staring at you as if you were made of stars. He’s speaking lowly and you smile when you finally make sense of what he’s saying.

“Good girl, now there you are. Hey.” The soft tone he uses makes you feel at ease. “Can you tell me what you were just trying to say?” His eyebrows furrow cutely and you try so hard to focus on his question and not the way you want to kiss him so badly. It takes your mouth a few moments to catch up to your brain, and you finally wade through the happy haze of your orgasm. 

“I said that I-” you wince at how wrecked your voice is. “I don’ want all the cum to slip out of me.” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen at your admission, perhaps expecting you to have much more PG thing to say. He recovers quickly, allowing a sexy smirk to break through. 

“Jimin,” Jungkook says, and for a second you’re still confused, until the man he calls upon is taking his place. His makeup still looks impeccable, and this close up you can see the details in his irises. He says nothing, and you aren’t sure exactly what he heard, so you just start again. 

“I want to-”

“Have all the cum stuffed back into you?” His words shock you despite how lewd the entire night had been. “Are you sure you’re gonna be alright? That last orgasm really took it out of you, sweetheart.” 

Your heart jumps at his consideration, but there’s still a fire burning deep in your stomach that you know he could be the one to put out. You turn your head just enough to see that his cock is still hard, leaking precum against his toned stomach.

“Yes, I’m sure. Please. Please. I promise I’ll be good. Wanna make you cum. Wanna have you all in me.” Jimin’s eyes darken immediately, and his strong hands maneuver your pliant body back onto your back. A surge of confidence runs through you at the animalistic desire on his face. 

“Gonna get you all filled up, baby. Our perfect little cum dump. Lettin’ us all take our turns with you.” He spreads your legs, examining your puffy pussy lips and the remnants of cum that leak from you. He gathers up what he can with his fingers and shoves it back into you. You shudder at the intrusion, beyond sensitive to his touches. 

“”M not gonna last long, baby. I’m so fucking hard.” He whines, palming himself as he gets to where he needs to be, settled between your legs snugly.  “S okay, just want your cum.” You assure him sweetly, feeling the weight of the night as well. You weren't even sure you had it in you to cum again, but you knew you wouldn't end the night satisfied without having them all spill inside of you. 

Jimin wastes no time after your reassurance, and his cock slides right in as if you were made for him. The lubrication makes for an extremely easy glide. Every move he makes strikes pleasure in your pussy, the sensitivity of the muscles making your orgasm build with surprising speed. Jimin can feel you clenching around him and he gasps, knowing your tells after seeing you cum so many times in one night. He presses a nimble finger to your clit, and that’s all it takes for you to cum again. A slow simmering orgasm that makes your legs shake as you gasp, latching onto Jimin’s arms for support. He joins you not long after, giving a few short thrusts to make sure that he fills you up deep. 

He drops his full body weight on top of you and you relish in the secure feeling, his cock twitching while still inside you. The shake in your legs finally stills, and Jimin pulls out of you, careful to minimize the amount that slipped out of you. You closed your legs instinctively although you were exhausted beyond belief. As the adrenaline wears off and the sweat begins to dry you shiver under him. Despite the heat of his body, you were definitely in need of something else to cover you. When he feels you shiver he plants a kiss on your forehead before sitting up and pulling aside the comforter on the bed before leading you underneath the layers of warmth. He slips in right after you, wrapping his arms steady around your figure. Your eyes threaten to slip shut, but the absence of the others nags at the back of your brain. 

“Went to get clothes and water,” Jimin explains as if he can read your mind. His head barely lifts from your shoulder as he speaks, and the low hum of his voice against you soothes the very last of your frayed nerves. Seconds later the door glides open, a now-dressed Taehyung and Jungkook with bottles of water and fabric bundled in their hands. 

You and Jimin both take a water bottle, and the other boys settle down on the bed. Suddenly you realize the bed isn't quite big enough for all four of you, as Taehyung’s limbs sprawl overtop of Jungkook’s. 

Jungkook waits until you drain half the water bottle, and then shuffles the pile of clothes in his arms. 

“They’re uh- they’re my clothes, but I. Figured they'd be better than your...dress.” He blushes, gingerly holding it out to you. The sight makes you giggle, but you thank him, and pull the shirt on over your head while you're still in the bed. Feeling like you could trust your legs again you slip out of bed and pull on the boxers and sweatpants he gave you. The shirt falls to your thighs and the bottoms he gave you only fit because of their drawstring, but the enveloping warmth and comfort made up for the size difference. 

“Thank you, Jungkook.” You whisper your thanks, scared to ruin the comfortable low hum of conversation between Taehyung and Jimin. It's easy to slip back under the sheets, wedged between Jimin and Jungkook. Taeyhyung takes the other side of Jimin, barely having enough room for his body at the edge of the mattress. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, as he reaches an arm across Jimin to reach you. He gently places a hand on your arm, rubbing gently at the skin there. 

An odd wave of emotion crests over you and your eyes well. “Thank you, by the way.” 

To your complete embarrassment they all coo at once, squishing in closer to you. You all smell like sex and sweat, but the embrace is so sweet that you have to remind yourself it was only a one night stand. 

“We should be the ones thanking you, Y/N. Believe it or we don’t usually do...this.” Jungkook admits. He’s facing your back but you can imagine the blush on his cheeks as he speaks. The idea shocks you and a sound of disbelief punches out of you. 

“It’s true,” Jimin pokes your ribs gently when he sees the look on your face. “We’re pretty picky. But you...” He stops himself, seeming to be afraid of saying too much. A teasing glimmer of hope sprouts in your chest with the implications of his words. Was it too soon for you to suggest doing this again? Or just hanging out like normal people? There’s no denying that you’re wildly attracted to all of them, but does that mean its worth pursuing? “We can think about it in the morning.” Comes Jimin’s gentle voice. Taehyung nods from behind him, and you can tell that his exhaustion is catching up to him. You have no idea it was when you left the club with them, and certainly have no idea what hour it is now. Jungkook grunts his agreement into your neck, and you hope he can't sense the way your heartbeat speeds up at his proximity. 

“Well still, thank you. And good night.” You murmur, nestling into the surprisingly soft pillow. Your eyes shut, and sleep is just inches away, latched between the two men closest to you, when Jimin begins to wiggle. 

“Shit, guys. Let me out, I need to piss.” Triplet sighs follow his demand, and you all laugh as he flips you off on the way to the bathroom. 

#bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #maknae line smut #maknae line #bangtan boys smut #bangtan boys fluff #maknae line x reader #jimin x reader #jimin smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #taehyung x yn #jungkook x yn #jimin x yn #bts #bangtan boys #bts x yn #poly bts

[ghostaholics]

for soulmate au:

would johnn and reader cross paths again and if they would what would it look likee

would they maybe find a way to love eachother despite johnn's proffesion

𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒖

here’s more on what happens between them

After their long talk, they decide to regrettably, but amicably part ways – neither of them like the circumstances, but they agree it’s for the best. She sends him off with a hug; they hold onto each other for a little bit longer than they should. It tides them over for maybe a week. Cue a whole montage of them in their respective places unable to adjust back to normal life for a while.

Then, as previously mentioned, it starts to hurt. At first, it starts off like a little twinge – a bones-deep sadness that comes and goes every so often but she tries to ignore the feeling. It gets worse not long after, a visceral chest pain that’s so awful it sends her straight to A&E; she thinks she might be having a heart attack. Who’s your emergency contact? they question. Don’t have one, she says, and it sends another stab of pain through her. The entire hospitalization is about a day-long affair. They run every test in the book, they give her clot-busters, vasodilators — hell, they’re contemplating cutting her open for invasive procedures even though the labs don’t say she’s had a myocardial infarction, just an EKG that had some anomalies but everything else was fine. Someone, a cardiologist maybe, has the sense to ask, How’s your soulmate? And she replies in a grim tone, ‘We don’t talk.’ Well, there’s the problem.

Price caves. He caves so fucking bad; calls her up (they’d agreed only to contact each other for emergencies), because to be honest, he wasn’t sure if it was just him or if she’d been feeling it too – emotional pain was never in the books but it seems like now it is. This is new. This is bad. His voice is gruff like usual but the concern is evident behind his words. And the second they hear each other down the line, there’s a weight that’s been lifted – the pain dulls. Relief. Not quite gone altogether, but more manageable. Neither of them feel like they’re on the brink of death anymore. And there are just shaky breaths being exchanged on both ends as they try to come to grips with what’s been happening. So, cutting all contact, going cold-turkey, is clearly not going to work for either of them. They know they can’t be doing this, but the more they talk over the phone, the easier it gets to breathe, to function normally. And so it begins.

Their relationship runs on a schedule; a loophole – every Sunday, 0600 her time. They count it down, too. Exactly one hour. Just enough for them to keep the pain at bay, to go about their lives until the next call. Sometimes longer when he knows he's about to go off-the-grid for a mission and won't make the usual Sunday time. They talk about anything and everything: she usually talks about her personal life, old stories from her past, what she’s making for breakfast, what her plans are for the week, and him – stuff about the 141 (never anything confidential or gory) like what sort of antics they get up to, spends an entire call telling her about Villa Claras and why they’re the superior cigar (kind of a nerd about those, whiskey, and the Reds, which she finds endearing – actually very knowledgeable regarding many things that he can talk her ear off about for hours). She falls in love with his voice first, the rest comes after slowly.

The more times they use this loophole, the weaker it gets. It starts off with him asking for five more minutes; yeah, he hears the alarm go off. Maybe a little bit longer will buy him more time throughout the week until the next call. Nothing they haven’t done before. But five turns into ten the week after, then twenty, and so forth. She says his name softly, interrupts him when they reach 0930 during one of their talks. I know what you're doing John. We can't. And here's the thing: it's a case of 'she fell first, but he fell harder.'

It doesn't last as long anymore; three days now until the longing starts back up again. And he calls her. He fucking calls her in the middle of the week on a Wednesday. John— She feels it too. I had to hear your voice again, he says with urgency. Because he just couldn't fucking help himself.

So they schedule something for Wednesdays. It'll help. It should. And it does, for all of two weeks until the same bloody thing happens again. This isn't sustainable. He knows that he’s not going to retire anytime soon, and even more that that – he knows that she shouldn't be doomed to live this kind of life. Not for for him, but most especially not fair for her. It's like she said, isn't it? She waited an entire lifetime for him. Why keep putting her through that? So he mentions this, kills him to do it: you deserve better; I know there's someone out there who can give you the things that I can't (Sunday mornings face-to-face over tea, to be near one another in a way where they can see the other's okay, where the hurt is non-existent; intimacy and affection and proper romance; marriage, growing old together, something quiet and normal.) She's already taken on his pain. He figures that it's his turn to bear it for the both of them now.

She tells him, without reservation, that it's the stupidest thing he's ever said. And before time's up for this call she uses the last few minutes to admit what's been on her mind lately. I don't want any of that stuff if it's not with you. What would be the point? It took me a while but I've finally figured out what soulmates are for; not for all the things you've said, as nice as they are – or would be; it’s simple, really. I was put on this earth to love you and I think that I've fulfilled my purpose. Nothing else matters.

She waits for his call on Sunday, 0600 on the dot – he's always punctual, she knows; this time is no different. But she doesn't even get a 'hello' out before he speaks into the phone: I'm outside.

#idk if this was interesting or clarified anything #john price x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x you #john price angst #captain john price #john price #captain price x you #john price x you

[lix-ables]

. . # like bunnies. hj. ˚ ₊ ✧ !

🦋 [mdni, this post contains, smut, includes jisung x reader + mentions of hyunjin x reader, dirty talk, teasing, mentions of perv!ji coz what is this blog without it, mentions of cuckolding (who am i now??), slight oral fixation, mentions of creampie ig, reader gets called slut ONCE,,]

🦋 words // 1.1k

🦋 [note. who am i, and what am i doing on my blog. what am i writing these days, with my filthy ass mind. the way i already have a part two ready for this. lmk if you want it. now, if you'll excuse me, i’ll be needing a huge supply of holy water, tyvm.]

🦋 © lix-ables. translating and/or reposting is not allowed.

🦋 masterlist

it’s been four days. four days since you left your apartment, and you blame your boyfriend for it. possibly his friend too, but that’s a different thing altogether. 

not that you were the type to complain, with all the amount of sex you and jisung had, maybe four days cooped up in the apartment wasn’t that bad. but the days hyunjin was over to play video games, with you and jisung, boy, it was hard. 

one such day was when you were locked up in the room you shared with your boyfriend, trying to work, the music not helping with cancelling out the background noises from the living room. you heard the door open a little, and jisung’s head popped in, a bright smile on his face, a controller in his hand was visible when he came in, shutting the door behind him, and walked over to where you were sitting. 

“we’re missing you there, you know,” jisung mumbled against your hair, as he pulls you close to his figure. “i know, but i need to get this design done and i really need a break now.” your fingers find his waist, lightly tugging on the hem of his shirt, and just once, did the back of your hand brush his covered crotch, making him grunt a little. “now you can’t expect me to walk out with a damn boner, can you, darling?” jisung mumbles, his voice raspy, and all you did was touch him. the way he asked you that felt like he didn’t want hyunjin to hear, who clearly was waiting for him to come back into the living room, with you, so you could continue playing. “are you going to do something about it, or not?” 

“hyunjin’s right outside the door, babe,” you whisper, your eyes watching the door like you were waiting for the boy to just walk in, unannounced. “has that ever stopped you from being so tight around my dick like you want to suck the life out of it? i fucking think not, c’mere, bean.” 

with your eyes wide at his words, a whine leaving your lips at the way he whispered it to you, his tone firm, with a hint of lust in it, which made you wet. “it’s also your fault,” he continues, as his hands find the zipper on his shorts tugging at it, letting it fall to his ankles, not bothering to step out of it completely. “shouldn’t be wearing those shorts when jinnie’s at home, what if he saw you and got hard?”

and so here you were, jisung being balls deep inside you, the slick sounds of his hips hitting against your ass, while his fingers made their way up your back and find your lips. “suck,” a single word left his lips, a single command that gives you shivers every time he said it. at this rate, you would get caught, you were sure. with your lips now wrapped around his thumb to stop you from making any sounds, jisung’s other hand grips at your waist, his palm occasionally resting at your stomach, pulling you back against his clothed chest. a whimper leaving your lips, and you nip at jisung’s fingertip, which causes him to let out a grunt himself, and he pulls his hand away. 

“want him to hear do you? you want him to hear me fuck you good, it that why you’re not being quiet?” jisung leans to whisper in your ear, his movements showing no signs of slowing down or stopping anytime soon. “you dirty thing, you want hyunjin to hear you be a whining mess, huh? want me to call him here? i’m sure he’d love to see the pretty show you’re putting up here. why should i have all the fun with you?” jisung’s hand that wasn’t at your waist, moves forward to rub your clit, making your walls clench tighter around his cock. “if you’re going to continue being tight, i might as well call him in, and we can both stretch you out. you’d still take it like a slut, won’t you, baby?” 

at the mention of both hyunjin and jisung being inside you, you pressed yourself back against jisung’s chest, like that was going to do anything better than being teased. “fuck, look at you. having me buried inside your tight pussy isn’t enough. you want another cock to fill you up? you want to see our cum drip down your thighs, hm?” 

jisung mentioning all the things he would do to you, while he was inside you, didn’t help at all. “i wouldn’t mind watching it fall out your pretty hole, baby. i’ll just have to push it back in, ain’t that right? or i could just tell hyunjin how you get fucked, maybe he can do the same, huh? always wants dick, don’t you, love?” 

he couldn’t deny it though. the thought of you him fucking you, while hyunjin watched, or the other way round, got him riled up. especially when he wanted to guide hyunjin into showing how you liked to get fucked. his mind shifts to you on your knees for hyunjin, your face near his cock, your lips teasing him, while jisung himself sat facing you, jerking off, teasing himself in place of you. seemed like a good thought now. it just needed to be acted out. and the way you act around hyunjin? all flirty, with the touching, and the teasing? he knew both you and his best friend would be down for it, if he just mentioned it. 

before you could say anything, a reply or whine at his words, you hear a knock on the door, and you think jisung is going to stop, but he doesn’t. he just keeps going, at a faster and harder pace than before. 

you bite your lip when hyunjin’s muffled voice comes from the other side of the door, “are y’all coming out, or are you just gonna go at it like bunnies?” a chuckle leaves his lips and you can already imagine the face he had on when you walk out of the room, if you ever were going to leave the room that is. “are you even going to invite me in there? seems like i’m missing out on all the fun. it’s the fourth day.”

you turn your face a little to look at jisung, who’s stopped moving now, but a single thrust makes you moan, and out loud. “answer him, baby. don’t be a brat. should i tell him?”

you hear the door knob jiggle in its place, and watch it turn just slightly, before hyunjin’s voice rings out again, “tell me what, hm?”

taglist — @hwajin  @starlostseungmin  @chrisbahng @niinjo @chvnnie @lixhues @joonszn @janvibutbetter @cherryhanji @blueberry-chan @dnadoublefelixx @ethereallino @stuckwithaphobiaa @chewryy @bangchanbabygirlx @meowminhosblog @aimeexx @whatudowhennooneseesyou @seobinniesshi @nightlychans @americanokisses @katieraven @h0neydewmoon

#stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #skz hard hours #stray kids imagines #stray kids han smut #han jisung scenarios #han jisung imagines #jisung smut #han jisung x reader #han jisung smut #stray kids hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin scenarios

[beechersnope]

Summer of Cum Days 16/17/18: snowballing, precome, come slut

lance/fernando, includes girl lance, facefucking, and an imbalanced sexual relationship, 1105 words

***

Every time they do this, it feels like the worst decision Fernando has ever made in his life. It should be a difficult list to top, but somehow, they manage. Sometimes he thinks that bad decisions are all he’s good at anymore.

“Slower,” Fernando tells her, his lips straining around each syllable. It’s never been so hard to remember English as it is when he’s with Lance. “Stay still. Let me do it.”

Lance is on her elbows and knees in her hotel bed. Her bed, because if Fernando ever allowed her in his, he knows she’d never leave. She’s naked, her skin slicked with sweat despite the air conditioner set as low as it’ll go. Lance always runs hot.

Fernando’s cock has been in her mouth for what feels like an hour. It probably hasn’t been that long, because whenever they do this, Lance gets so worked up that she can’t help but get a hand between her clit and the mattress to make herself come with Fernando’s dick down her throat—she knows by now that Fernando won’t do it for her no matter how many times she asks—and so far, they have yet to reach that part of the evening.

“Slow,” Fernando says again as he strengthens his grip on her high ponytail, her thick, dark hair like a length of rope in his fist. He pulls her down, nice and steady, until she has no choice but to swallow around him, her nostrils flaring as the tip of her nose nudges against his pelvis.

Fernando likes it best when it’s like this, when he has her looking up at him through heavy-lidded eyes. He knows what she wants, that if Lance got her way, he’d be fucking her through the mattress until she can’t walk. Or maybe riding him, using his cock to get herself off over and over until he can’t take anymore.

But she’s young, still, and she needs to learn self-control. She’s too clingy, too needy, wants everything all the time. She doesn’t know how to appreciate the things she has that’ll one day be gone.

“Good,” Fernando says encouragingly as Lance finally relaxes under his hands. He slowly draws his cock back out, letting her take a breath, staring at the potent mix of precome and saliva dripping from her mouth, keeping her tethered to his cock as she gasps for air. “Again.”

He’s rougher this time, fucking her face, her throat until she gags, until there’s spit pouring out of her mouth onto the duvet. She takes it. She takes all of it, everything he has to give her, and Fernando has to force himself to slow down again when she stares up at him with watery brown eyes, lashes clumping together with the beginnings of tears.

Fernando wants to touch her, wants to slap her ass, flip her onto her back so he can mouth at her breasts. He wants to come in her pussy, again and again and again. Lance makes him feral, like he could lose his mind. She isn’t the only one who needs discipline, a firm hand.

Like this, they’re on the knife’s edge. Fernando has a duty to them both to keep them from falling off.

He pulls back again. Lance sucks in a sharp breath and reaches up with one hand to grab for his cock. Fernando quickly swats it away.

Lance’s eyes go dark. “I want to make you come,” she tells him, practically throwing a tantrum about it already, though that’s usually the sort of thing that precedes these meetings, rather than occurring during the main event.

“No,” Fernando says simply before fucking back into her mouth again. That’s another advantage of doing it this way. Less talking.

If Fernando was more honest with her—himself, too—they wouldn’t do this at all. There are only two viable paths to choose from: he could quit, and get on his knees for Lance instead; or he could quit, and cut ties with her altogether.

Fernando has, stupidly, chosen to stay.

Lance stares up at him balefully as he slowly slides into the back of her throat again. He’d asked her once what his come tasted like. She’s fascinated by it, delighted even. Never stops talking about how much she loves that he gets so wet for her, that she can taste it as soon as he’s inside her mouth. She swallows every time, his cock so deep inside her that Fernando sometimes wraps a hand around her neck just to feel the slight swell of himself in her throat.

He wants to taste her just as badly, but he’ll never tell.

Fernando thinks about denying her again when he feels himself getting close. Maybe for the fourth time, or the fifth. It’s easy to lose count.

He fucks her even harder instead, his free hand coming up to cradle her cheek, her jaw as he uses her. She struggles to stay upright as she wriggles a hand under herself, the way he’s come to expect. Her tits bounce with every thrust, hard, dark nipples dragging against the mattress.

She’s so beautiful, Fernando thinks, and then he pulls almost all the way out so he can come with just the head of his cock pressed against her tongue.

They stay there like that for a long moment, and then finally, Fernando pulls out. Lance doesn’t say anything when he drops down onto his knees with a pained grunt so he can kiss her. It’s only when she shoves her tongue into his mouth that he realizes why, the sharp brine of his come still thick like batter when she gives it back to him.

It doesn’t feel spiteful, though Fernando thinks that it probably should. If Lance were smarter about all this, maybe it would be. If she were better at playing games.

Lance’s face is radiant when he opens his eyes, their mouths disconnecting with a wet smack. Fernando swallows himself down and sees her see it, watches her smile.

It’s too genuine. He wants to look away. He doesn’t.

He should ask her if she came. He should make her come. He doesn’t.

“When are you gonna fuck me?” Lance asks with a faux pout that doesn’t fully engulf her wry smile. She flops over onto her back and starfishes out on the bed, letting out a wistful sigh before letting her hands drift back down between her thighs. She’s almost absent-minded about it. Not teasing, at all. “Like, actually fuck me?” she wonders.

Never, Fernando thinks to himself. He has to draw a line somewhere.

#summerofcum2023 #f1 smut #f1 rpf #strollonso #my fic #girl lance because i love a tall queen #also at this point i think i am pretty much committed to doing a different pairing for every fill #so feel free to try and influence me into writing your faves

[avacoleman]

It's been a minute since I've done one of these, but this nugget of an idea has been kicking around in my head as of late. here's a bit from a second chance, past/present romance. this snippet is from their college days

“Can I ask you something?”

“That sounds terribly ominous, but I suppose so, yes.”

Alex sits up, resting his back against the wall.

“Are you happy?”

Henry does a double take, brought up short completely by the question.

“Pardon me?”

Alex twirls his pencil like a drumstick between his long fingers. Henry’s head feels as if it’s in a tailspin too.

“I have my own thoughts on the whole royal family thing. They aren’t exactly…diplomatic so I’ll break tradition and keep my mouth shut. Though, I can’t help but wonder what it’s really like day to day.”

Henry frowns slightly before schooling his features.

“I don’t have anything else to genuinely compare it to. By default, I’d imagine I should be happy.”

“That’s not at all what I asked. Are you actually happy?”

Henry searches Alex's eyes. No one outside his immediate circle has ever spoken to him so bluntly before. For a moment Henry wonders if he should pull rank, but he sees the out that’s being given to him.

Alex is giving him a chance to speak freely— at least as freely as Henry can allow himself to be.

“There’s an unbelievable amount of pressure that makes it difficult at times to ever feel fully happy or content. Some days I’m not even sure if I can live up to what my life is predetermined to be.”

Alex’s brows furrow.

“How so? I mean, I get it. Life in the public eye feels more like living in a fishbowl or being under a microscope all day every day. You’ve got it even worse than me.”

Henry laughs dryly.

“I have it worse than anyone.”

“Is it really all that bad? There aren’t any parts of the gig that make it worthwhile?”

“Calling it a gig suggests that I have an actual choice or say in the matter,” Henry replies.

Alex winces a little.

“Fuck, you’re right. Sorry. I guess I just mean, is there anything about your role in the royal family that you feel appreciative of? That makes you genuinely happy to be in this position?”

Henry looks away and takes a moment to gather his thoughts, of which there are many. Alex gives him the time to parse through it all, never once becoming impatient or pressing.

“If life in the public eye is a fishbowl, then I’d equate life in the palace to that of a gilded cage. Dress it up however you might like, it’s still— at its core— akin to a prison.”

Henry sighs and shakes his head. 

“I don’t mean to sound melodramatic or ungrateful. I honestly don’t. I know that being born into this family has provided me with luxuries and opportunities most people could never even dream of. All the same, it can come at a great personal cost.”

“And what’s the price you’re paying?”

Henry opens his mouth. The words dance precariously on the tip of his tongue but he swallows them down, not daring to give them room to breathe.

“I can’t say. Not right now at least.”

Alex looks even more intrigued, his head tilting slightly. Henry likes the way the light catches his eyes as they hold each other's gaze. 

“Would the truth really cost you so much that you’d rather keep it as a burden instead?”

There’s no judgment in Alex’s tone, just a genuine curiosity that makes Henry desperately want to be able to confess all he’s been bottling up.

“Yes. I can’t gamble with my future like that. When it’s all said and done, a gilded cage still offers protection. Perhaps I’ve developed an acute case of Stockholm syndrome,” he tries to joke.

Alex stares at him, looking troubled by Henry’s sentiments.

“No one should be trapped in a life they don’t want to live.”

“Ah, but you see, freedom is the ultimate luxury. I’m not so sure if that’s the hand I’ve been dealt.”

“Sounds to me like you need to change the rules or maybe even play a different game altogether.”

Henry smiles wistfully.

“An inspired thought. I admire your rebellious spirit. I dare say I even envy it.”

#rwrb fic #red white and royal blue #firstprince #henry fox mountchristen windsor #alex claremont diaz #userthai #tusersonia #tuserpaige #usernicholas #usersteen #userjamiec #iuserzoe #kimmy writes

[venuslcver]

HIGH BY THE BEACH ⋆

pairing: boyfriend!pope x carefreekook!reader

synopsis: your boyfriend, pope, and you had been together for a while when he changes his mind about not going to college.

tw: fluff, implied sex, profanity (no use of y/n)

any type of interaction including likes, comments, and reblogs is appreciated! but ultimately not necessary. let me know if im missing any warnings!

“ok, baby! which one should i wear? this one or thissss one?” you questioned pope, holding two of your swimsuits in a display manner. one was a lilac-colored string bikini, the other being a cheeky, polka-dot one-piece.

you could never make a final decision for the life of you, only leaving it up to pope for his opinion. though, pope had known you long enough to know, whichever item you tend to show last was the option you had in mind. hell — most of the time you don’t even know that you prefer one option more than the others.

you wanted to wear the left one, pope concluded. no matter if it was clothing, makeup, nail color, or decor-related. not actually having input into the choices, he usually would just coax the answer out of you. it made it easier on him, besides he didn't give a fuck what you wore, because well... he would still find you beautiful dressed as the grinch. which you did a couple halloweens previously.

“uh… i don’t know — which one is more comfortable?” he asked, putting you on the spot, hoping to get an honest answer out of you.

clicking your tongue to the roof of your mouth in deep thought — lifting each and inspecting it. trying to remember if it was uncomfortable or not the last time you wore it.

“well i… mean. huh. why is this so hard?” you said truly debating both options. making your final answer, “i would probably go with the right one being more comfortable”

“probably… and i’m just sayin’ this as a thought…maybe it’s hard because you have too many swimsuits”

letting out an obnoxiously high-pitched scoff, you halted your attention from the bathing suit debacle to pope, who was leisurely laid back on your rope hammock swing that you had in your room. you never took kindly to anyone, including pope, criticizing your inability to get rid of things, especially your bathing suits.

“firstly, i don’t have too many swimsuits, and one could never have too many of them. secondly, even if i did — how could that possibly affect my ability to pick a swimsuit?”

awkwardly looking at you, pope reluctantly replied, “you can’t keep up with all of them, making you not even remember the last time you wore them… and the last time you chose the right one, you were complain’n the entire time”

ignoring his truthful statement altogether, you thought for a moment. he was right. the previous time, you ended up bitch’n the whole time about having to hold the straps of the one piece to avoid flashing innocent bystanders on the beach. which was the worst, considering the excitement that you experienced when in the water. flailing around without a care in the world.

a light switched when you came to this realization, noticing that you were rather harsh with your poor boyfriend, who did not deserve that in the slightest.

“oh my god! you are right!”, you said squealing, right into hugging pope’s sitting body.

taking his face into your hands, before hugging him again, “i’m so sorry baby! you know i didn’t mean that, right?”

staying firm in the hug, while he pulled himself out of the hammock, “yeah, yeah i know you didn’t mean it.”, pope said brushing your rudeness off. you and him rarely argued, and if you did, you were talking within the next half hour, easily.

looking up at him with doe eyes, and an innocent cast appearing on your profile. an all-knowing look that pope was very familiar with. one of the ways that pope and you were able to get over any kind of tiff was by admitting to being wrong and taking the proper steps to apologize.

for example, this one time pope got all panicked at the future and started freaking the fuck out. which led him to harboring that he was in the wrong and mishandled the situation at hand. before slipping his hand into you. well... two fingers but either way! pope was giving in that way, regularly lending a helping hand to you when in need. it wasn't an obligation as much as a want. you and pope were alike in that way. always willing to put others first.

"c-can i make it up to you?"

sooner than later making it to the intended place of hanging out, the local beach on the outer banks. looking into the surrounding area in your eyesight, the beach was practically empty. a lot of spring-breakers had vacated the week before. having access to almost a completely bare beach.

you helped pope set up on the beach, before laying horizontally on his vertically propped-up body.

pressing a kiss on the crown of your head, that was in his lap. when he did the leaning down motion, you pushed the pineapple in your hand, to his lips. silently urging him to take a bite. to which he did.

immediately snickering when it ran down his face, halting laughter when it dripped onto yours. lucky that the acidic fruit juices didn't collect in your eyes. either way, pope was quick to wipe it off your face.

oftentimes, pope and you were silent when hanging out. you wouldn't per say it was a con, because it was due to being around each other every second, when not at work. though, when pope's dad, heyward, was short-staffed, you would offer a lending hand. taking a couple shifts, with pope. even, visiting each other at work.

along with packing an array of fruits to snack on, you also brought a weed. one of the conversations you had meant to bring up was the future.

pope was wicked smart, at least, school-wise. his choice of friends was questionable. and as much as you love your shared friends— they tend to be dumbasses. pulling pope down to their level. to which, a couple foul decisions led pope to not attend college— as he previously intended.

one late night, he admitted that he felt like "all the work he put in was sliding down the drain". which riddled you with resentment towards your friends. not that you cared what pope did. only that he was happy— which he wasn't at all for a passing time.

"pope? can i ask you something?"

"yeah— what's up?"

"d-do you have any idea what you want?"

"what i want?", pope asked, not understanding the question at hand.

"want for the future?"

looking at you bewildered, pope had no idea where the loaded question came from.

"uh — besides being with you, i have no clue.", a tinge of sadness rolled off his tongue.

grinning at his, rather, romantic proclamation, "o-ok, well, um i was expecting a little bit more of an answer, b-but that works for me"

"i-i'm worried... like really worried", he admitted.

coming off your high, out of your own fantasy land— that was induced by his heartfelt statement, "why?!"

still supporting his weight with one arm, he took the other and rubbed his face, "why shouldn't i be? i-i mean i was going to go to college, b-but now I'm just working at my dad's restaurant"

pope tended to self-destruct when his fears kicked in, sending him into overdrive. sitting up, looking at him directly in the face, "h-hey don't say that! one, you know that your dad would not keep you unless you were working your ass off! you're like the smartest person i know, out of anyone in outer banks, or hell, anywhere! a-and we'll figure it out."

set on helping understand that he and you would be good, you pulled a small baggie out of your beach bag, "ok?"

"o-okay"

"now, let's get high. and forget about everything, ever."

although he wasn't completely sure, he knew that you would stay by him, meaning he would be completely fine. if the world ended that day, he wouldn't have cared as long as he had you. well, and he would prefer if he had the other pogues and his parents.

#pope heyward #obx #outer banks #pope obx #pope hayward x reader #pope x reader #pope heyward prompt #pope heyward x reader #pope heyward fanfiction #pope heyward smut #pope heyward x y/n #⋆ pope heyward fic ⋆ #boyfriend!pope

[bamboobrat]

succession s4 e4 recap: ken brings a strap-on to a gunfight

I'M PSYCHIC! I'M PSYCHIC!

^^ from my recap of season 4, episode 1

turns out succession really is channeling their inner CW teen show. translation:

SHIV IS PREGNANT!

what gave it away? her face. oh, and she ordered a club soda with a closed top at the dive bar in episode two. don't think i didn't notice.

anyway, i know she's all poly representation and all, but let's be honest with ourselves: it's toms baby. she's planning her 20 week ultrasound, so i reckon.... italy?

kendall arrives at logan's makeshift wake/board meeting and overhears hugo in the lobby.

now, if you overheard someone saying "you fucked me in the ass with a strap-on" on the phone, would you guess that someone was talking to their daughter?

only on succession.

i'm not going to use space showing you hugos face, so let me summarize: his daughter sold stocks right before the news of logan's death was made public. he tells kendall. kendall has leverage.

now, enough hugo.

MARCIA IS BACK!!!

the girlies love marcia. lying about having intimate conversations with logan every night? we love that.

death truly does become her.

also, did anyone else pick up on the fact that cyd simply said "sorry babe" to kendall as he walked by?

supportive queen!

greg is also trying to be supportive and we collectively join in on the kids giving him serious side eye (or ignoring him altogether).

much like the rest of the roy family, he is incapable of any type of normal hug.

the kids discuss marcia and kerry, and roman notes that he thinks kerry is "in marcias trunk. inside an anaconda. inside a sarcophagus." for a pre-grieved boy who doesn't want to make phone sex jokes about his late dad, he's still got it.

the suits are also there, gathering in the kitchen to look at the china.

just two gal-pals backing each other in business and sitting on each other's faces

tom receives a proper whooping from karl and eats a seafood taco.

i know i should aim higher in my important trade of recaps and give you more detail, but i can't. i shan't. it is what it is.

oh, but important: karl is in on a greek island with his brother-in-law.

and "your wife doesn't even like you" is a wonderful insult.

shiv gives us an accurate representation of what it is like to talk to a swede:

for context, i'm norwegian. the banter is scandi culture.

saying "bad one" when your dad dies? also scandi culture.

willa is truly winning in this episode. she gets logan's apartment, a dig at marcia AND a moneymoon touring the midwest. cheese curds all the way.

and they save a bunch on realtor fees, of course.

the gang finds a piece of paper.

we are getting so much gerri/frank/karl content this season, i am chuffed! yes, sure, the sibling dynamic is interesting, but the gerkrank (?) vibes are strong!

they all make very funny jokes about throwing the piece of paper in the toilet. haha comedy gold.

kendall manages to make his brother and sister laugh for once in his life. all it took was for him to make a joke about their dad not being a pedo.

i'm going to make obit decoding my new thing.

a summary of logan:

threw phones at staff

racist

racist, again

relaxed about sexual assault

never payed a penny of tax

not a pedo

wouldn't even hug his grandkids

kendall's name is on the piece of paper. i reckon it's from around early season 1 times, maybe even before then.

it's not certain if the name has been underlined or crossed out. (but really, does logan strike you as the type of man who would underline anything?)

greg is also mentioned with a bunch of ????? and the big bozo deigns to suggest he might be logan's #2.

frank reacts appropriately:

they keep putting roman and gerri in the same frame.

AS IF i wouldn't notice. i see you, lorene. doing the lords work.

they rag on greg some more. it's a doodle, fuckface.

ken shares a moment with his #1 dad.

frank: he was an old bastard and he loved you me: sobbing

ken realizing he wants back in? that's self-destruction, bby!

shiv continues to hit rock bottom....

with a lil pregnancy hint and some narcisissm, framing it as if she's the only one who lost something she cared about.

but is she talking about logan? or tom? or none? or both?

i need a shiv redemption arc soon. it's beginning to feel so sexist, and not in a critique kind of way.

spooky embryo mencken is on his way to join the rest of the right wing crazies in logans eulogy.

if you are in need of motivation, work every day in your life to ensure a right wing guy will never feel inclined to do a speech at your funeral.

or, live a life that will make greg never want to talk to you. ever.

we all know tom wishes he'd taken that route.

sandy is smiling at logan being dead. sandy is us<3

why is this sex party so sad?

marcia sends kerry in a taxi to a subway so she can go home to her little apartment.

last time we see her, or does she have an unborn baby up her sleeve?

<3 roman showing kerry kindness and then immediately shitting on tom's redemption tour <3

wambsgans deserves to grovel.

stewy is a softie when it comes to ken.

his pubes got a little singed last time, but they are in love.

willa is enjoying her new apartment, as she should.

her mom is me at a buffet.

shiv gets shivved as her brothers decide to take on the role of CEO without her.

redemption arc! redemption arc! redemption arc!

obligatory screengrab that is just in here because gerri looks cute:

i couldn't even bother coming up with an excuse for this one.

chant with me: STE-WY! STE-WY! STE-WY!

power move from a power bottom. jk he is obvi a top.

and with stewy in the room, the power dynamic shifts to favor the siblings.

gerri makes a very slight move, but backs up immediately.

(don't think i don't notice that roman is still in this frame, guys. it's dark, but i notice.)

ken and his homey romey are the new interim CEOs. we all know what a thankful job that is...

shiv trips and falls and i want to kms.

do i need to chant again?

please, for the love of god, give shiv a win. the baby is not a win.

hugo and karolina suggest to the newly appointed CEOs that they throw their dead dad under the bus. roman reacts the way an emotionally mature person would:

utter distain.

ken, however, does not.

this photo will be in his phone and in his subconscience forever. the question of whether his dad loved him or not anthropomorphized.

so he tells hugo to go ahead with the "shit on logan roy" communcation strategy.

it's what his father would do.

he is pleased. and we, my girlies, are one step closer to kendall having a full godfather-like arc.

pretty sure i predicted that too, back in the day.

or is episode 4 too early to peak for our dear ken? time will tell.

next week: the gang travels to norway and i go absolutely bonkers.

#succession spoilers #succession hbo #succession #succession recap #succession season 4 #sarah snook #shiv roy #kendall roy #jeremy strong #hugo baker #fisher stevens #marcia roy #hiam abbass #roman roy #kieran culkin #greg hirsch #nicholas braun #gerri kellman #j. smith cameron #karolina novotney #dagmara dominczyk #frank vernon #peter friedman #karl muller #david rasche #tom wambsgans #matthew macfadyen #connor roy #alan ruck #sandy furness

[silvermoon424]

the plagiarism discussion started by the new hbomberguy video has really got me thinking some dark thoughts directed at myself. because i used to do that. i copied art all the time. it started when i was a kid and didnt know how to draw, and i tricked myself into thinking this was a way to pretend i was good at it. i wish i could say i stopped when i got older but i just kept doing it. i dont have a good excuse, it was awful and selfish. i now realize i had a lot of other problems in my life, and it got me stuck in some pretty selfish behavior, but that doesnt make it okay. i just didnt care enough about other people, the effort they put into creating something and then sharing it with the world. i wish i had enough kindness in me to praise and share what they did back then, instead of copying it. i know that the guilt i feel is my own fault, and i can never apologize enough

it happened too late in my life, but i finally started to grow and change enough to care about what my actions meant. i also discovered that if i practiced, i was capable of drawing art on my own. i never want to be such a horrible person again. the thing is, i recently started to notice that even when im trying to do better, i wind up drawing poses of characters from art other people have made. maybe that isnt such a big deal for some people, but for me, it feels wrong. somebody who steals shouldnt be trusted. somebody who lies shouldnt be trusted. i feel like i need to just stop drawing altogether, and not even interact with other people who share art. i dont expect any forgiveness, because i dont even forgive myself. i want to stop being a bad person. i guess im wondering about how to move on. everything i think of winds up being hopeless and sefldestructive

Honestly, I think you should be way kinder to yourself. We all fuck up and make mistakes, it's part of being human. Flagellating yourself and thinking you should give up art as a way to "atone" doesn't help anyone, least of all yourself. You should keep doing what you love and maybe also try to highlight other artists.

Seriously, you're WAY too hard on yourself! Please be kind and gracious to yourself as we're all growing into better versions of ourselves <3

#asks #Anonymous

[myriad-writings]

walking the world for you - e.m.

-eddie munson x reader

-2.1k words

-best friend eddie that deserves a little kiss for all the pining he’s done

Dating wasn’t where you were luckiest, often striking out when trying to pursue people. But even when you accepted a date that someone asked you on, it was almost 100% certain that you would wind up at Eddie Munson’s trailer, bitching about the date to your best friend. 

And that is exactly where you were tonight. 

“-and then, when he walked me out to the car, he was like ‘are you the kind of girl that sleeps on the first date?’ and when I was offended, he tried to act like he was all jokes and that I was the bitch for thinking he was serious.” You pace around his living room while he watches from the couch, eyes following your form back and forth like he was watching a tennis game. 

“Yeah, that’s fucked up,” he agrees absently, going to take another hit from the bowl you had just packed. 

“Hey, don't finish that without me,” you lightly scold him. 

“Well then come here princess,” he gestures to the open space next to him, handing you the lighter once you finally plopped down next to him. “Why do you even bother with these guys anyway? It seems like you have shit luck with Hawkins men,” he muses while rotating one of his rings on his finger over and over. You roll your eyes at his observation. 

“Yeah, I realize that, Eds. Thanks,” you grumble. “What should I do, then? Give up? Hang out with you and smoke forever?” 

“I wouldn’t exactly mind that,” he laughs, flicking your forehead lightly. “But no, I just mean that maybe you should just vibe on your own for a little bit. You always get so worked up about dating, it just doesn’t seem worth it. Like, do you even enjoy going out anymore?”

You lean back into the sofa in defeat, because you know he’s right. You just don’t want him to know that. “No, I really don’t. But I don’t want to just give up, you know?” You turn your head to meet his heavy gaze. “You’re not one to talk about dating, by the way. You haven’t even made a move on anyone since ‘84.” 

“Haven’t felt the need. Just content to chill here with you.” He says with a cheeky grin, making you laugh and smack his shoulder. 

“Is that your plan? To just hang out with my undesirable ass for the rest of your life?” 

That was the thing, it kinda was his plan. The reason he hadn’t made a move on anyone in two years is because he wasn’t interested in anyone since meeting you. He was far too hesitant to make a move on you, because having you as just a friend was better than losing you altogether. Eddie was patient and content to admire from afar, but he can’t tell you all of this when you tease him like that. So instead he settles for his normal excuse. 

“Not forever, just for now.” He hums, watching you shut your eyes and just listen. “And you’re not undesirable, you’re just too good for these Hawkins assholes.” This makes you chuckle dryly and he insists, “No, I mean it. Why else would I let you come over and complain almost every Saturday night.” 

“Because I’m the only one that willingly comes over,” you tease. 

“Hey, that’s not true. Gareth comes over to buy from me like… every two weeks,” he grins, knowing you have a point but he doesn’t mind you saying it. You don’t mean any malice and your friendship is built on making fun of each other. He wouldn’t have it any other way

Actually, yes he would, but he’s resigned to the negative outcome he’s imagined if he were to confess his feelings to you. 

The two of you chill like that for a little while longer before you stand, saying something about how you should head home before it gets too late.

“It already is super late, doll. Just stay the night here again,” Eddie suggests, and you seriously consider it for a second before deciding you shouldn’t. “No, no, I gotta shower and all that in the morning and I don’t wanna take over your bathroom in the morning.” 

He wants to tell you that he wouldn’t mind if you took over the whole house, but he doesn’t want you to feel like you have to stay. He walks you out and watches you drive away until your car is out of sight before heading back inside to pass out in his room. He was in deep, really deep. 

Over the next few weeks, you notice slight changes in Eddie. He’s not acting outwardly weird or standoffish in the way that most people would notice, but he just seems slightly more tense than usual. Like he’s anxious about something, except he wasn’t telling you what. And that was the strangest part, because he told you almost everything as soon as he could. He even used to make a joke about you being like his diary manifested into a person, so for you to not know about something that was going on with him was unsettling, in a way. He wasn’t even asking you to come over like he normally did. He wouldn’t say no to you showing up, of course, but it hadn’t been solicited by him lately. 

That is, until you were left out in the rain after yet another shitty date. You used the public phone to call him, teeth audibly chattering as you spoke. 

“Wait, where are you?” He asked, and you could hear rustling as he held the phone between his shoulder and ear to be able to get his shoes on. 

“Outside of town, near that little dive diner. I’m at the phone booth and I didn’t have anyone else to call, I’m sorry,” you sniffle, emotional from the argument you had just gotten into with your date. He had made a comment about you hanging out with “that freak Eddie” all the time, for some reason he thought you would find it funny. Instead, the argument resulted in him calling you a bitch and leaving you in the rain without a ride home. Asshole. 

“Don’t be sorry, I’m on my way, okay?” Eddie waits until you hang up, and then goes out to his van and finds himself driving at speeds that are way too high for the downpour going on outside. 

Eventually he finds you, sitting on one of those enclosed bus stop benches with your head in your hands. He gets out to come get you, shedding his jacket once he sees that you’re soaked to the bone. “Hey,” he says once he’s closer, and your head snaps up before you relax and see that it’s just him. 

“Hi,” you give him a watery smile, embarrassed and emotional. But you’re glad it’s him, anyone else would have made you feel worse. But he’s here, giving you his jacket and coming to pick you up 10 miles outside of town after a date he told you not to go on. Of course he’s here. 

He gets you in the van and starts driving back to town before saying anything else, and even then he just asks, “Do you wanna go home?” You shake your head silently, and he gives you a quiet ‘okay’ before turning onto the street that would bring him back to his place. Once inside, he gives you some clothes you had left over there for you to change into, giving you his room to change in as he waits on the couch and wrung out his hair. 

You come out in the new clothes and still wearing his jacket, sitting next to him. Eddie gives you a quick once over before lifting his arm to you, and you immediately fall into his side with a heavy sigh, finally feeling relaxed with his arm around you and his thumb rubbing circles into your bicep. “So what happened, doll?” He prompts. 

“It’s just so stupid, and you were right that I shouldn’t have gone. I just… I don’t know, I was desperate,” you look up at him before turning back to the floor, “He said some out of pocket shit about you and then left me there when I argued with him.” 

You heard him curse lowly under his breath. “I’m sorry doll, you shouldn’t have to stick up for me,” he mumbles. 

“No, I want to. I shouldn’t have even gone on the date after you told me what an asshole you remembered him to be,” You sit up cross legged on the couch to face him completely. “Why wouldn’t I stick up for you? I don’t think anyone else would've dropped everything to come get me as quickly as you did. And then you gave me your jacket, and let me come back to your place all soaking wet and cold. You even had clothes here for me.” You watch his reaction carefully, as he leans forward and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Please don’t say you’re sorry. You’d do anything for me, yeah? So I would do the same for you.” 

Eddie stays leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, shoulders shaking with a soft chuckle. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” He runs a hand over his face before looking up at your confused expression. “You’re absolutely right, I would do anything for you. Why do you think that is? I’ve spent every weekend since we became friends with you, whether it was after one of your shitty dates or you coming to my shows and making sure I get home alright. I’ve watched you get screwed over by like.. Every guy you’ve ever seen and it sucks because you’re way too good for any of them. But you’re always so excited to go out with them, so I let you, even though we both know the outcome. And I’ll be waiting here afterwards for whenever you need someone.” He searches your face before finishing, “Because I love you.” 

Your brain was going a mile a minute, it wasn’t rare for you and Eddie to say you loved each other, so his serious tone just added to your confusion, “I love you, too, Eddie. What’s… going on?” 

He groans in frustration before adjusting himself to be facing you directly. He musters up every ounce of courage in his body before saying, “No, not like that. I’m in love with you.” 

The silence that falls after terrifies him. He wants to curl up and hide from your reaction, but he feels frozen in place under your gaze. He doesn’t regret saying it, he actually feels relieved that it’s out there, but he just wishes you would say something. 

You, on the other hand, feel something akin to starstruck. Never in a million years would you have thought Eddie looked at you that way. Suddenly everything from the past two years made sense. Why else would he have done these things for you? He’s always been the most reliable person in your life, and you would describe him as nothing short of perfect. You realize all at once that Eddie is exactly what you’ve been looking for, all this time. 

“I’m sorry,” his voice interrupts your rapid train of thought, “I can… I can bring you home if you want, if you’re uncomfortable-” 

“No,” you shake your head. “Sorry, I was just thinking. I’m not uncomfortable, I promise. I just…” you hurry to reassure him, but find yourself struggling to find the words to tell him how you felt. His soft brown eyes staring at you made you feel warm and nervous, but in a good way. Instead of talking, you have to make a quick decision, so you do. 

You lean in quickly and press your lips to his, bring a hand up to the side of his face. You’re afraid you made the wrong move at first, but then both his arms are around you and pulling you impossibly closer as he kisses you back. The butterflies in your stomach flutter even faster, and you both pull away to catch your breath, and you see Eddie smile for the first time since he picked you up tonight. 

“That was a long time coming,” he teases breathlessly, and you giggle at him. 

“How long have you had that speech prepared?” You ask, and he shakes his head and looks down to hide the red flush that covers his cheeks. 

“Since knowing you for two weeks, babe.” He admits, “I’ve been playing the long game.” 

“And was it worth it?”

“For you?” He smiles up at you again, and you feel heart melt for a millionth time that night. “Anything’s worth it.” 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine

[angellbarnes]

sparks flying

day 1 - firefighter AU

pairing: firefighter!Bucky x reader

summary: a real life firefighter to crush on? say less. with you’re clumsiness you’ll definitely be needing him around a lot more

word count: 1.3k

warnings: just idiots with crushes fluff, (small) fires

A/N: so this is officially day 1 of my 30 day writing challenge! I’ve been gone from writing for wayyy too long. I’ve had a lot going on in life and in my head tbh but now I’m ready to saddle up again and hopefully this will be a good n fun way to bring back my writing! I think this is a cute one to start the challenge with. please like, comment and reblog, it means so so much🤍

•••

A couple of weeks ago…

“Wanda, stop!” you yell. “You know how ticklish I am!” You’re fighting against her as she pins you down. Nat is cackling beside you, laughing at your struggling.

“Say it! Admit you like him!” She cries.

“No! I’ll never!” You cry back.

A relaxed girls night seemed like a good idea before truth or dare was involved, and it led to both Nat and Wanda forcing you to admit your schoolgirl crush on Bucky, a firefighter in your neighbourhood.

“Then I won’t stop.” You’re fighting for breath at this point, before you kick your leg perfectly, or unfortunately, to knock over a candle on the side. It falls to the carpet and everyone’s eyes widen.

“Shit!” You exclaim. You grab a pillow and hit it over the flames repeatedly. You exhale heavily when it’s out. You turn and see Wanda and Nat smirking as Nat is holding her phone to her ear. “Wha- Nat, no!” You say sternly, you can see her plan smug on her face. She holds her finger up at you as she starts speaking.

“Hey, Steve, we just had a small fire over here, maybe you should come over to make sure it’s been put out properly… Yeah, just a candle, nothing major… Ok, thanks babe. Oh, and you should probably bring Bucky too, if he’s around. Cool, see you soon.” She hangs up.

“Seriously?” You deadpan.

When they arrive, you’re sitting on the sofa with Wanda and Nat opens the door. Of course, behind Steve, Bucky comes striding in too. Wanda wiggles her eyebrows at you, poorly hiding her grin. You simply roll your eyes.

“What’ve we got here then?” Steve remarks, blankly staring and, frankly being unimpressed, at the charred patch of carpet beneath you.

“I just knocked over a candle. It is absolutely no big deal and it’s clearly out.” You reply, tight lipped. Avoiding eye contact with the looming brunet beside him, as if you’d drop dead if you were to. “What would we do without you two though?” You sarcastically add.

“What even happened?” Bucky asks, and you finally look at him, in the eyes, as you silently die inside while searching for a reason other than the truth.

“Wanda pushed me into it, and then it fell on the carpet.” Bucky raises a suspicious brow at your answer.

“Ok,” Steve says. “Just maybe try to keep candles upright from now on. We should go, Buck, and get to that bar before it’s too busy.”

“You guys are going out? We’ll come with!” Nat jumps up and pulls Wanda from the sofa, stretching her hands out to you next.

“I would, but I’ve got an early shift tomorrow. A 6am start is not what I want on less than 7 hours of sleep.” You reply, honestly this time.

“Ugh, fine.” Nat whines. Everyone starts to head out as you hold the door. You say bye to everyone and wish them a good night as Bucky hangs back.

“Shame you can’t come tonight, maybe next time?” He leans in the doorway and you think your heart actually skips a beat.

“Yeah, sounds good.” You can’t help but smile as he flashes a cheeky grin. He begins walking out and you admire his frame. It’s a shame he can’t put out the fire roaring inside of you right now.

“Have a fun shift tomorrow!” He calls out.

“Oh, I will.” You shut the door and roll your eyes and the feelings he gives you.

Now…

“Ugh, stupid fucking lights!” You growl and the flickering bulb above you, which eventually goes out altogether. You know it’s not the lightbulb because you’ve only just changed it. The same thing happens in your bedroom and the kitchen. Determined, you set out to find the light panel for your flat, which is somewhere in the building. You finally find it and open it up. You see your flat number and, beneath it, some switches and screws and wires you’ve never encountered before.

“Fuck it.” You take out your screwdriver and just head into this unknown world. You try a few switches and screws when a couple of sparks fly. You jump back with a slight shriek. Your eyes widen and your hand covers your mouth as the sparks turn into a small flame.

“Nooo. no, no, no, no, no, shit, shit, shit.”

The flame begins to grow and you look around, with no luck, for some sort of fire extinguisher. The nearest thing is a fire alarm. Brilliant. 10 in the evening and now the whole building is going to hate you.

“For fucks sake.” You press the alarm and run away from the scene of the crime before people can see you near it.

Everyone is stood outside, cold and annoyed, when the engines arrive. With everyone in gear it’s hard to tell who’s going in. You’re all waiting for a short while before they tell everyone it’s taken care of and you can start heading back in. The firefighters begin taking off their helmets and masks. You notice Steve and – shit – Bucky. You don’t have time to get away before he spots you too. He heads over.

“Hey. I’m starting to get used to this building now.” He comments. You chuckle lightly. “I’m worried you’re heading towards becoming an arsonist.” Your eyes go wide.

“How did you know it was me?” You whisper-yell. His eyes widen in response, brows furrowing.

“We didn’t. I was just making a joke, but now I’m actually concerned about you.” He folds his arms and laughs as you slap your hand to your face in stupidity.

“Oh. Shit. Uhh, there’s no getting out of this, is there? Oh god, are you meant to arrest me or something? Ok, here’s the plan: I never said or did anything. Sound good?” You reason, realising you’re just continuing your idiocy. He just smiles in response before nodding his head toward the building.

“Should I walk you up? Just to make sure you don’t start any more fires.” He quips and you scoff, rolling your eyes and playfully elbowing him.

“Fine. Just to make sure.”

“You do realise I’m going to be telling Steve about this?” Bucky says when you reach your door. “And then he’ll tell Nat, who will then tell Wanda.” He smirks, leaning against the doorway again after you step inside. God, you love a man in uniform. Although, you’d like him more out of it–

“Oh, I’m prepared for that.” You look back into your apartment, and at that patch of carpet from last time, and why it happened. “Did you want to come in?”

“Uhh…” He begins. You mentally scold yourself. He clearly doesn’t want to. But then again, he’s still in uniform.

“Oh, shit, are you still on duty? Or you don’t want to. Either way, it’s fine. Sorry for asking.” You ramble.

“No, no, that’s not it. I’m actually technically finished now. I was just going to ask if you wanted to go to that bar now? As long as you don’t have another early shift tomorrow, that is.” You light up inside at his question, and can’t help the grin that spreads across your lips.

“Yes! Yeah, that sounds nice, I mean.” You shyly look at the floor and notice he steps forwards. He lifts your chin with his finger so you’re looking into his eyes.

“Uh, there’s actually something else I wanted to ask you…” He begins, and you both instinctively begin to lean into one another.

“Yeah?” You reply softly. The corner of his mouth lifts.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispers into your lips and your breath hitches.

“Yes.” You pull him into you with his jacket and his lips press against yours. Suddenly, another fire is igniting. But a much, much better kind. The kiss is deep and long-awaited, both of you trying to get closer, while already being flush against one other. Finally you part, chuckling and biting your lip.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

“Thank god for my lack of my electrician knowledge, huh?”

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #firefighter!bucky #marvel #bucky au #angellbarnes 30 day writing challenge #day 1

[lovesosweeet]

better left unsaid // cth

chapter thirty nine

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn’t know.

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapters

november 19, 2018 san diego, california orion

Today is the final day of the tour, and it’s also the day that they’re in Madrid. I should be there, and I know that fact very well. Emelia is off for Thanksgiving break, so I would’ve been, too. We could have gone, but instead, we are at my family’s house doing practically nothing. 

I spend a long time in the shower. It’s nice to stand under the stream of water because it camouflages my tears. There’s no clarity whether the droplets are tears or water and that keeps me feeling a little less shitty for how much I’ve been crying lately.

It feels like any time I get a moment alone I start crying. 

Missing Calum is hard enough, but knowing how little life I have left to live is an awful, gut wrenching feeling. 

I’ve had my phone in hand with Calum’s contact open far too many times to count. I’ve typed messages and deleted them. I’ve even considered deleting his contact altogether to make reaching out to him next to impossible since I clearly don’t have the guts to reach out and it’ll torment me every day. 

I want him here with me. I do. I want that more than anything. I can’t even call it a change of heart because I know that’s what I’ve always wanted. Some kind of switch flipped in me when I saw the pictures of him with Paula and I finally admitted it to myself. 

That should be me is all I could think, staring at the photos of them hugging, leaning close to each other to talk at the bar. I’ve craved a hug from Calum from the moment he left me.

One of the worst thoughts I’ve had is what if I reach out and he doesn’t reply? What if I’m too late? What if I’ve fucked it all up beyond repair? That fear is one of the many things holding me back. I’m scared to reach out and it ends up that I’m still alone and aching to have him home with me.

I’m still scared of the idea of watching me die and how that will take a toll on him. The thought is still terrifying, but I still, selfishly, want him to be with me. 

I haven’t told anyone this. I’m sure the second I tell Emelia she will grab my phone and call him herself.

Em and I are planning on streaming the Madrid show if we can tonight, assuming someone goes live to share the show. She said if she has to she will call Crystal and have her Facetime us the whole time, but that’s not my favorite option. 

I finish up my shower and get dressed in another random combination of sweatpants and sweatshirt, putting on my bunny slippers that my moms got me for my birthday. I don’t know how I’ve made it to 22 without a pair, but I’m grateful for the adorable, cozy footwear regardless. I find Emelia in my bedroom when I exit the bathroom, scrolling on her phone, perched on the edge of my bed that she must have decided to make for me. 

“Paula and Lucia are with them,” she announces, holding her phone up to me.

I get closer to her, sitting next to her on my bed so she can give me her phone. It’s opened to Paula’s Instagram story, which is a photo of her hand, complete with her new, dazzling engagement ring, Lucia’s hand, and Calum’s hand, all three reaching for a box of donuts from my favorite donut shop in Madrid. She has the location tagged at Retiro. 

“For old time’s sake,” she wrote on top. 

I tap the screen, letting the next image on her story show. It’s a selfie of Paula, Lucia, Calum, Luke, Sierra, and Crystal. They’re sitting by the water at Retiro. I should be there. I wish I was there. 

I sigh, closing out of the Instagram app and giving Em her phone back. “Looks like they’re having fun,” I say, my voice cracking as I try to stifle the tears I have forming in my eyes.

Emelia wraps an arm around me and rests her head on my shoulder. “I’m sure they all wish you were there just as badly as you want to be there.”

I sniffle and wipe the tears from my eyes. “Maybe.”

She sighs and thankfully doesn’t say anything else about it. “C’mon, come help me write my paper. I don’t wanna have to deal with it on Thanksgiving.” 

If it was up to me, I’d spend the rest of the day in bed alone, but when Em is here, she gives me only one allowance of wallow-in-bed-and-pretend-to-nap time per day. It’s been almost every day that I tell her I want to take a nap and then instead I just lay in bed and cry. I’m sure she knows that’s what I actually do, but we don’t talk about it.

—

As if she could read my mind from all those miles away, Paula goes live for the concert. As far as I can tell, she’s in the VIP section. It doesn’t look like many other people are watching her live, so I’m almost certain she is streaming just for me. 

Emelia and I watch together, curled up in the guest bedroom with a bottle of wine and a huge bowl of popcorn. We sing along the whole time, tears in my eyes for most of it. It’s my first and only time seeing the show from the whole tour. I knew it would hurt too much after the breakup, and before I wanted to be surprised by it in San Diego. Em and I both knew I needed to see it at least once. I didn’t think through the fact that I possibly wouldn’t actually see the San Diego show. 

Calum not singing his verses in Amnesia and Ghost of You cuts me deeply, which has been true since the breakup based on Twitter, and both Emelia and I cry when they play those two. Cal doesn’t even face the crowd during those songs.

As the show nears its end, in a break after Jet Black Heart, Calum steps to his microphone.

“Madrid!” He starts, and Luke and Michael snap their heads to him, shocked. I guess they weren’t expecting him to take a talking break. The crowd cheers loudly at his pronunciation, since he says it like Mah-dree rather than Muh-drid. He hadn’t spoken the whole show, and, if I know Calum, he hasn’t been speaking much on tour at all, especially not in the wake of the breakup. 

“Excuse me if I fuck this up, but I asked a friend to help me with this translation. If it’s wrong, blame her,” he says and he laughs. 

“He’s talking about me,” I hear Paula say. She knows I’m watching. I’m sure of it. 

“Tu ciudad tiene un pedazo enorme de mi corazón. Te he extrañado y te quiero.” Calum fumbles through the Spanish that he reads off a scrap of paper. The crowd screams louder then than they have so far for anything else they’ve done tonight. I’m sure no one expected Calum to have said more than two or three words in Spanish, so it’s exciting to have him say something beyond te quiero and gracias.

“Uh, back to English,” he says while he tucks the piece of paper into his back pocket. “I’m sure some of you know why I love this city, and that’s never going to change. Thank you for having us tonight, the last night of this tour. You’ve been incredible and we will never forget you. This next one is one of my favorites, and again, I’m sure some of you know why. Let’s take it home, okay? This is Want You Back!” 

The lights turn off and the room of people screams when the opening notes resound throughout the arena they’re playing. Throughout this song, Calum actually bobs his head and sways a little, getting into the music the way he used to but hasn’t throughout the entire show. He seemingly stares directly at Paula’s phone, and I wonder if he knows she’s streaming the show for me to watch it. 

“Are you gonna call him?” Emelia asks in the middle of the song.

I look to her, tears filling my eyes again. “I don’t know, Em. I’m scared.”

She doesn’t say anything else then, just nods. 

At the end of Want You Back, which is supposed to be their last song aside from the encore, Michael and Ashton take their bows and Luke and Calum just clap at them. Michael and Ash look confused, but just wave to the crowd. They check behind their shoulders and find Calum and Luke still at their mic stands, but they continue their exit from the stage.  

“Madrid, for an extra something special this evening, Calum and I decided we’d like to treat you to a little surprise,” Luke says. From the side of the stage, an acoustic guitar is being brought to Luke. 

“If it’s alright with you, I’m gonna steal Luke’s mic stand!” Calum says into his mic. The crowd cheers and he hands his bass to the stage tech that brought Luke the guitar. Cal is now center stage, looking incredibly nervous. “We’ve never played this one before, but we hope you like it.” 

Look at the stars Look how they shine for you

Calum sings softly while Luke strums the guitar. Luke is smiling widely at Calum like he’s a proud parent. 

Your skin, oh yeah, your skin and bones Turn into something beautiful And you know, you know I love you so

Cal is crying again, but he manages to sing each word clearly. 

And you know, for you, I'd bleed myself dry For you, I'd bleed myself dry

Every word seems to cause another tear in my eyes. Their cover of Yellow is officially my new favorite of theirs, and I know Cal chose it for me. It’s as clear as day. As they finish the song, the crowd erupts again, and then Luke holds his arms out to Cal, encouraging everyone to applaud him specifically. Cal bows and takes a step back, his hand resting on his chest. He waits for Luke to bow too before they walk offstage together.

As soon as they’re off the stage and the crowd starts to beg for an encore, Paula flips her phone around so we can see her, Lucia, Marta, and Crystal huddled together and smiling. 

“For you!” Paula screams and then she turns the camera back so the boys can finish their usual set.

I don’t know how and I don’t know why, but Calum has just made me feel way more loved than I deserve, and it makes me want to reach out even more, but I still don’t know if I can or how I should. I officially want — no, need him back in my life. I need him by my side. I don’t know what it’ll take for it to happen and I’m terrified of whatever will be in between, but I know I’ll feel much better when he’s back in my life. 

Em looks at me with teary eyes as the boys take the stage again. 

“Em... I miss him so much.”

She hugs me tightly. “I know you do.”

read next chapter

a/n: something's brewing!!!!!!! :')

#5sos #luke hemmings #5 seconds of summer #ashton irwin #calum hood #fanfiction #5sosfam #imagine #fanfic #michael clifford #calum 5sos #calum fanfic #calum fic #calum x ofc #calum x fem!oc #better left unsaid

[kawaiibitchyfemale]

Rant

Sometimes i’m so tired. Tired of feeling. Tired of making mistakes. It just makes me want to give up and stop trying altogether. But I know if I’d do that things would only get worse and I don’t want that either.

I know there are ways for me to eventually learn healthy coping mechanisms. One thing at therapy stuck with me though: you can’t stop feeling. There is no magical potion for me to stop feeling and experiencing emotions and feelings the way I do but I can learn to deal with them.

That just made me so sad, the realization, the acceptance of the fact that I will always feel the things I feel is awful. My first thoughts were: I don’t want to live if that is the case. Why would I want to try, fail, try again and fight my entire life so I can ‘deal’ with my feelings instead of making them less or just not having them at all.

It makes me really understand people with addictions and sometimes a bad part of my brain is like: Dude you should totally do that instead of the shit you’re doing right now. But I know getting addicted to something that won’t make me feel at all won’t help me in the long run and will potentially, probably definitely make things worse in the long run.

So, what are my options? Continue going to therapy, fuck up things a billion more times and then eventually there is hope that I can ‘deal’ with my feelings. That I could have the socially acceptable response instead of saying what I actually feel and think at that moment. I know they say it would help me too but would it though? Or am I just paying a lot of money, pushing myself into uncomfortable situations just so I could cater to others? Not harm them with me being me?

It hurts to be called selfish so often, especially when you don’t try to do things with malicious intent. I don’t even try to do things with an ulterior motive. I’m so mean to myself; others are so mean to me. And I’m so done with making mistakes almost every single day. I am exhausted, I am overwhelmed and have been for the longest time.

No one believes in me anymore and I don’t blame them. I tried and failed so many things. If someone continuously says they’re working on it and trying but they fail time and time again, would you still believe in that person? But it still sucks that they don’t. I’m so done with being a failure, an embarrassment. People say they don’t but I know everyone looks down on me. Like some sort of fucking idiot that they should clap for every time I do something which should fucking be the bare minimum for a functioning adult. I’m so disgusted by myself. Always creating situations that are the opposite of what I want, always making people hate me time and time again. I just want to be loved, I wish I could be happy, or at least not miserable and feel so much all the time.

I learned that I should stop sharing my feelings and keep things to myself more often. Maybe I can eventually poison myself with my own thoughts and leave it at that.

I can’t talk with other people, because no one every really understands. That’s fine though, I’m so happy for them that they can’t. But it often makes me feel so alone. And then I fucking drain my loved ones time and time again by trying to talk to them but when did it ever help though? When did it do good?

I just don’t like being with myself. My head is not a nice place to be.

I even am disgusted by this entire thing I’m typing because it makes me sick and angry that a person that causes so much harm ( me ) can talk with so much petty about themselves. Blergh. Gross.

I’m tried, I wish I could stop feeling. I wish I could stop having opinions. I wish I just wasn’t me dude. I don’t like me, I sometimes don’t want to fight for me, I just want to delete myself from this earth and have people forget I ever existed. I don’t want to be a bother, but I am. To them and myself. I’m a stain that needs to be erased so others can be happy. Not be influenced by me. I’m too selfish, I have too many feelings and for 26 years now already I have been failing at doing better. When does one know when to give up tho? When have I tried enough that it is justified and not frowned upon to give up?

I know I must not give up, I know there is hope and that I have improved already over the years. But sometimes I swear I’m so tired, it’s so difficult and I just wonder why I do it. It’s not like I have the biggest will to live anyway. It’s not as if I have a future planned. I didn’t even think I’d make it this far tbh so I’m just winging it and trying to be a responsible adult.

Working, trying hard for others, going to therapy. But sometimes I’m so lost with who I really am and what I actually want. Especially when half of the time others say my thoughts / feelings / plans aren’t valid or will end up to nothing. Argh I’m ranting, I could go on forever but enough is enough. No more self pity. I guess I’ll try again tomorrow.

#bpd #bpd problems #actually bpd #bpd thoughts #bpd feels #mental health #heartache #rant #mental illness #relationship

[vullcanica]

@vilestblood:

"I kept the black cat."

Tenuously, he confesses, fixated on the plush white cat, tracing the velvety fabric's scuffs and the emblazoned red ribbon around its neck. Worn-out — or well-loved — and decorated with several milestones of sobriety. Its mere presence in Nicodemo's apartment told a long story to Antonín, yet he could merely glimpse that time between then and now.

He knows Nicodemo is standing by the door.

His ears feel warm, ringing slightly at the rhythm of his heartbeat. His mind is still fuzzy and slow like an old movie playing before him. Nicodemo said he could have a concussion. He's staying the night because of that. He should go to a hospital, but... the couch is so soft underneath him. The white cat feels so heavy on his lap. He couldn't possibly get up. He doesn't want to go.

"Back in Paris," the black cat. "It's in a locked drawer." Is it? The last time... did he put it back in that drawer?

"No." He's always so busy lately. He forgot. It wasn't intentional. But maybe it was. "It's on my desk."

Antonín chuckles sans humour. Something keeps gnawing at his heart, a pain worse than any wound. Unrelenting. "He gave me good advice the other day, that little shabby thing." Melancholy bleeds inside him, prompting him to lift his gaze to meet Nicodemo. "I miss the black cat."

  "... Did you.."

  Funny thing, shame. A thing utterly foreign to him in all but Antonín's white-hot, mesmeric presence. It sits heavy on the tongue. Weighs it down. His voice cracks.

  He watches Antonín trace deft fingers over a small, incriminating tear where his own thumb has rubbed the fabric down to nothing and feels the cavernous humiliation of a secret laid bare. There are months of worrying the soft white cat between shaky digits evident on its worn facáde, of clutching it in sleep, lining its little ribbon collar with waypoint coins from NA meetings; unwittingly adorning it with keepsakes of emotion. Traces of desperation, longing, joy and love meant for Antonín, but never meant for his eyes. A private reverie he'd witlessly forgotten to hide. And suddenly that's his heart right there, held bare and gentle in the hands of its spitting image. White paw to pale fingers. Some kind of grandfather paradox which threatens to implode the walls of his already feeble ventricles and reality itself as he knows it.

  His grip on the glass of water tightens, lip digging into his sternum where he's clutched it to his chest. Antonín probably needs it. He should hand it to him... He'd only meant to fetch it from the other room, but doing anything with it now would mean crossing the liminal doorway between the there-then where he has space to breathe or run or hide and the here-now of.. this, whatever it is. There's a ghost of his best friend sat in the living room, dressed in blood and anguish, and he's saying terrible, awful things to him - that he's kept him in ways that might matter, that he talks to him still. Nico finds he can only bear witness - suddenly a stranger in his own skin and his too big sleep shit and short hair and his innards twisting painfully like a knife's cut through them - fighting to find a voce down his own throat to interject before something gives.

I miss the black cat. (I miss you.)

"Enough."

  His heart goes first. He can almost feel the fucked up little thing constrict in protest - an old, still weeping wound rupturing altogether. His eyes sting next, hot behind the sockets. Heavy under the lead weight of a searching gaze and the threat of tears. He squeezes them shut to escape both. His breath comes short, stuttery. The panic-pain of Antonín's surreal entrance into his life and his quick near-departure catches up all at once, breaking his resolve. Splitting his chest - one side selfless, the other selfish. He wants to hold him again... soothe other hurts beyond the physical evident in his drawn face. Even now, he isn't sure he's allowed.

  "I don't know what any of that means." It isn't hope, this he knows. He doesn't know much else. The familiar desire to attribute any meaning Antonín's presence here - to any of his words - gets extinguished by the choking hand of memory: 'Don't contact me again.' - a clear-cut last message. A closed door.

  The tears come quietly, by habit alone. He's mourned this ghost a thousand times before. He'll mourn it again.

"Why did you come here?"

  

#𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑 ‒ nikodemus ║ IN CHARACTER #𝐍 - v: MODERN #vilestblood. #yeah this is totally fine i think #[distant agonized sobbing] #the plushie plot haunts me at this point

[oc-aita]

AITA for "choosing" someone I "only knew for 3 stupid fucking months" over a friendship of 9 years?

I try for this not to bother me much since there's nothing I can do to fix the situation, but sometimes I start to think and... well. This happened years ago, too. But you know. Be warned this sounds like a bad gay dramatic book with sex in the mix, but it is entirely true. The three people involved on this are F (27M), C (23M), and of course, me (26M). TL;DR at the end because this thing got long.

First, I need to give context of the type of relationship F and I had. We were friends since I was 14 and he was 15 respectively, at that age I wasn't a friendly person at all, and after I lost my virginity at 17 (with him, important detail) it was extremely difficult to be friendly towards a guy if my intention wasn't to have sex with him, terribly shitty on my part, but we're not getting onto that. Our friendship was the most important thing for me (as I told him a few times, he was my favorite person, and I 100% meant it), we were extremely close, and it was entirely platonic (kinda? if we ignore the "slip" we had at 17 and 18) until we had sex again (20 and 21 respectively) and there we started a friendship-with-benefits thing.

Our "fwb" deal started right after F broke up with his "boyfriend", M (18 at the time). M was roommates with C (17 at the time), so we technically know each other from that time. I was there mostly making small talk and maybe going outside while F and M were pretty obviously fucking, but he was feeling pretty awkward, and like, I get it. Your roommate is getting laid while you're stuck with a sort-of-acquaintance forcefully being friendly. Also, it was awfully obvious C started to resent F a bit. It wasn't the best thing ever, but after F and M broke up, I didn't saw him again for a few years.

Until I was 24! It was pretty normal for us to go to parties, it was fun and that's how I got most of my one-night stands (because if you think having sex with F was enough, no it wasn't). For some reason, that night C was on the same party F and I were. I recognized him right off the bat, and F did too. He was looking... really lonely, and I guess it triggered a kind emotion on me, because the only thing I wanted was to keep him company. F tried to approach him, as there wasn't any resentment on his part (yet), but I told him it might not be the best idea, but I was going on his place.

Long story short, we spent the whole night together, he obviously needed someone to vent, and I was there. After the party ended, I gave him my number, just in case he still needed to vent. Pretty uncharacteristic of me, sincerely. He messaged me again a few days later, with time we kept talking about our lives and shit, and I actually fell in love for the first time in my life three months later! Exciting stuff.

Except apparently I started to "make F feel unimportant" and "won't stop annoying the fuck out of him talking about C" and "I even moaned his stupid name on accident when we were having sex" (all his words!) and, despite my efforts, F and C never got along, now mostly on F's part (in fact, things got worse), which was really stressing.

Everything reached a limit when I told him we couldn't have sex anymore, because I was officially dating C and it was a closed thing, so we should stay platonic again. And he threw a big ass tantrum, saying I was replacing "someone I knew for 9 YEARS over someone I only knew for 3 stupid fucking months", and that "if I was lying to him the whole time I told him he was my favorite person and he was actually that replaceable for me, then I was way more horrible than he thought and that I should stop talking to him altogether". And I did. Not because I didn't loved him (this time truly platonically, we never had romantic feelings for each other), but because I got hurt by the fact he couldn't understand how much this meant to me. It was the first time I felt the so-called romantic love, it was all new, maybe I didn't managed it the best way, but. Come on.

TL;DR: My friend with benefits I knew for 9 years and was my favorite person got angry I "replaced" him for someone I fell in love with, which I knew for 3 months, and ended our friendship as soon as I started to actually date the guy I love.

#original character #am i the asshole #aita #nsft #my own #(my beloved son with issues and problems<33)

[girls-are-weird]

a fragment

so... i wrote this short fragment of a scene ages ago... maybe a month or so after YR S2 premiered, when i was trying to wrap my head around what i wanted S3 to be like or what i thought would happen in it-- either/or. i'm not sure.

i wanted to write it early on in the break, before the real S3 came and jossed it, but although i had some idea of the beats i wanted to hit, i was never able to fully crack the plot, and now that S3 is firmly in postprod territory, i realize i probably won't have time to write the full thing. but i think it's a pretty good piece of writing, and i don't want it to just languish in my hard drive without anybody ever reading it, so i figured i might as well put it out there just for kicks.

you don't get much of the plot in it-- it's just 650 words of wille complaining about being grounded at drottningholm-- but the gist of the fic was going to be: sara runs away after telling the police about what august did, her family thinks she's missing and the police starts searching for her, august gets arrested but he promises to not implicate simon with the drugs as long as the crown puts all of its resources into the search, wille demands to be allowed to stand with simon and linda during public appearances to support them/give the case more visibility, and eventually they get a tip from the public that leads them to sara alive and well in some other city she ran away to because she couldn't take the guilt of what she did to her brother. they all make up. august goes to jail. something something happy ending. your guess is as good as mine. xD

anyway, here's the little snippet i did manage to write. it was supposed to be the very beginning of the fic. hope you like!

Four days Wilhelm spent by himself at Drottningholm, completely disconnected from the outside world and without a clue as to what was happening with Simon or any of his friends at Hillerska. His mother had confiscated his phone before leaving the school that day; his computer was presumably still at Hillerska or elsewhere with the rest of his belongings, which hadn't been returned to him as of yet. He could watch tv in the family lounge but all they were doing was speculating about his sexuality and his relationship with Simon without any response from the Crown, and that only made him even more anxious, so he'd given up on the news altogether. His parents' room and offices had been unused and locked for the past four days so there was no way he could use their desk phones even if he knew how to do that (which he didn't), and the entire house staff had been instructed not to lend him theirs no matter how much he begged. Labor contracts and NDAs outweighed pity when it came to the palace staff, unfortunately.

He hadn't even heard from his parents, who had probably spent the past few days at the Royal Palace dealing with the fallout, and his only interaction with another human being other than the house staff was his one daily check-in with Minou. He was sure his mother had done that on purpose because Minou was the "nice" one— Farima would've gotten a door slammed in her face, and Jan-Olof better not show his face around Wilhelm any time soon if he valued his life at all. But even though polite, Minou was still loyal to the Queen, and the most Wille had gotten out of her was that the team was figuring out how to proceed after his reveal at the jubilee and he should stay out of the public eye until further notice.

Not for the first time, he cursed having to live in a place watched over by the Royal Guard; their job was just as much to keep him in as it was to keep intruders out. He swore he'd haunted the palace like an 18th-century ghost, pacing trenches in every carpet to be found within the 162 hectares of the property in search of some exit that would allow him to get outside undetected and maybe hail a cab or jump on a bus— fuck, at this point he'd even try and hitchhike back to Bjärstad, even though every horror movie in history warned against doing that.

But even that was a no-go. Every known exit to the building had at least one guard posted outside of it, and he was certain he'd be bodily brought back inside if he so much as poked the tips of his toes beyond any external doorway. By this point, he'd even begun contemplating the physics of jumping out a window, but he'd concluded there wasn't one that was close enough to the lake that he could fall into it and maybe, with some luck, not break every bone in his body.

This had to be some kind of kidnapping, right? Except even if it was, he was screwed because his captor just happened to be the queen of the fucking country, who probably couldn't even be charged with a crime— he wasn't sure; he'd never asked. Erik would probably know, but that was… a whole separate issue, wasn't it? And even if he raised a stink about neglect or something along those lines, he was nearly seventeen, not seven, and nobody would buy it, anyway, because the place he was being held captive in happened to be a bloody palace with a whole fleet of servants at the ready to attend to his every need.

Except when that need happened to be talking to the boy he loved.

#young royals #young royals netflix #prince wilhelm #simon eriksson #wilmon #wilhelm x simon #wille and simon #hi there otp #cali writes fanfic #simon x wilhelm #wille x simon #simon x wille #netflix

[bloody-bee-tea]

24 Days of Mingcheng 2022 Day 4 - Mess

This is my 900th posted fic 🎉 🎉 🎉 

Jiang Cheng is frozen in face of the sight in front of him.

“What the fuck,” he breathes out and it’s almost comical how fast Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao spring apart.

“Wanyin,” Lan Xichen says, his voice shaky, but Jiang Cheng can still see how his cheeks are just that tiny bit redder than they normally are and he refuses to acknowledge the shine on his lips at all.

“What the fuck,” he repeats again and this time it’s Jin Guangyao who answers him.

“It’s not—”

“What it looks like?” Jiang Cheng dares him because there is no way they are actually going to try for that.

Jiang Cheng caught them making out on the couch—his couch, no less—and there is no way in hell they are really going to try and make him doubt what he saw.

Lan Xichen winces at his cutting tone and Jiang Cheng shakes his head at him.

“At least I wanted to break up first,” he then mutters and Lan Xichen flinches again.

Things in their relationship haven’t been right for a while now and Jiang Cheng is not going to deny that his feelings for Lan Xichen have changed.

That they found another target altogether.

It’s just—he wanted to try, still, mostly out of stubbornness and because everyone kept telling him that it wouldn’t work out with Lan Xichen anyway.

It made Jiang Cheng cling to this relationship longer than he clearly should have but at least he didn’t outright cheat.

“I didn’t mean to—” Lan Xichen starts but Jiang Cheng doesn’t let him finish.

“Do this? Well, your hands on his ass clearly seemed to know what they were doing,” he snaps out and then drags his hand over his face. “This is just as well, I guess.”

“You could have broken up with him first, you know,” Jin Guangyao says as if all of this is Jiang Cheng’s fault.

“Well, I would have before I sucked face with someone else, but I guess not all of us are decent people,” Jiang Cheng shoots back and for once in his life Jin Guangyao falls silent.

“I will go grocery shopping now and by the time I come back I want you both gone out of my apartment. Permanently,” Jiang Cheng sternly tells them. “Leave the key on the counter on your way out.”

He doesn’t wait for Lan Xichen’s reply, certain that he won’t get one anyway and simply leaves them behind.

It doesn’t hurt as much as Jiang Cheng expected it to, though of course the betrayal still stings. But he had known that his relationship with Lan Xichen would have to end sooner or later, especially taking his own feelings into account but this is just a new low, Jiang Cheng thinks.

He honestly thought Lan Xichen to be a better man than this but apparently he was wrong. And despite the fact that Jiang Cheng fell in love with someone else, this hurts.

It hurts enough that he fishes for his phone to call his sister.

“A-Cheng,” she greets him, her voice warm and Jiang Cheng already feels a little bit better.

“A-jie, Xichen and I broke up,” Jiang Cheng tells her without preamble because he needs to get this out.

“Oh, A-Cheng, what did you do? I’m certain that if you try, Xichen will listen to you and give you another chance.”

That makes Jiang Cheng stop, a cold shudder running down his back.

“What makes you think it’s my fault?” he asks her and he can already imagine her disappointed face.

It’s always his fault, one way or another, isn’t it?

“A-Cheng, you’re just so—” she trails off but Jiang Cheng knows what she wants to say.

Angry, volatile, uncompromising, hard. He has heard these things about himself more times than he can count.

“Right,” he mutters and then simply hangs up on her.

He already has to deal with the fallout of one failed relationship; what is another added to that, right?

Jiang Yanli calls him back almost immediately, but Jiang Cheng blocks her. He doesn’t want to talk to her at the moment, and maybe not even any time soon.

He debates calling Wei Wuxian but chances are that Lan Wangji are with him and Jiang Cheng knows very well how the other man feels about him.

Jiang Cheng is not going to try his luck there. He doubts it will end differently than his talk with Jiang Yanli and so he’d rather not have that talk at all.

He briefly thinks about calling Nie Mingjue or Nie Huaisang but he knows better than that, even though stupid is one of the words people are not shy to use when it comes to him.

The Nies have been friends with Lan Xichen for far longer than they have been with Jiang Cheng and he’s not going to try his luck there. If even his own siblings can’t side with him then it’s unlikely that anyone else will, no matter how Nie Mingjue might feel about him.

Just as he’s about to pocket his phone again, Wei Wuxian calls him.

Jiang Cheng briefly thinks about declining his call but he knows from experience that Wei Wuxian is not going to stop until Jiang Cheng answers in pure self-defence. It’s better to get this over with now.

“What?” he greets Wei Wuxian with, already over this entire conversation because he knows how it will go.

And Wei Wuxian doesn’t disappoint.

“A-Jie called me to tell me what you did,” Wei Wuxian says and Jiang Cheng scoffs.

“What I did, right. Because what other possibility could there be, right?”

“A-Cheng, come on, we all know that Xichen-ge wouldn’t break up with you for nothing.”

“That’s where you got it wrong, though,” Jiang Cheng tells him even as a part of him wonders why he even still keeps trying.

They are not going to listen to him.

“I broke up with him because he was cheating on me.”

There’s a disbelieving silence on the other side.

“A-Cheng, you don’t really believe that, right? I bet it’s just a misunderstanding.”

“Xichen’s tongue in Jin Guangyao’s mouth and his hands on his ass beg to differ,” Jiang Cheng shoots back.

“I don’t believe you,” Wei Wuxian says. “Why would you lie about this? Xichen-ge wouldn’t do something like that.”

“Of course he wouldn’t,” Jiang Cheng gives back and all of a sudden he’s tired. “Because he’s too good for that, right, and I am simply not. You know what Wei Wuxian, why don’t you take him as your brother and leave me the hell alone. I am so fucking tired of always feeling as if I have to prove myself to you and A-Jie both. I’m done. Give the happy couple my regards and tell them to stay the fuck out of my way.”

He hangs up on Wei Wuxian before he can get another word in and then he shuts his phone off for good measure too.

Jiang Cheng is done talking with people for today. He’s going to get some groceries and just for the heck of it he’s also going to get the biggest ice cream cup he can find and then he’s going to go back home and piece his life back together.

Screw family and screw relationships. How needs those anyway.

With his mind made up Jiang Cheng gets going again and by the time he’s on his way back home he does feel a little bit better.

Of course his and Lan Xichen’s relationship was already in its last dregs, and not only because Jiang Cheng himself fell out of love with him.

They had barely talked to each other prior to this incident and any kind of intimacies ceased even longer ago than that. Still, Jiang Cheng continues to be bitter over the fact that this is how Lan Xichen decided to handle things.

Jiang Cheng never pegged him as a coward, but it is true that Lan Xichen shies away from any form of conflict. If he thought Jiang Cheng would fight him on the decision to break it off Jiang Cheng can maybe even see why he chose to do it this way, not that it is any kind of excuse.

Lan Xichen’s behaviour is shitty and Jiang Cheng is not going to forgive him.

Jiang Cheng doubts that he’s going to even notice that much of a change in his daily routine, because if he’s being honest Lan Xichen hasn’t been a part of it for a while now. It only drives the point home that he shouldn’t have been such a coward and ended things earlier.

Well, better a coward than a fucking cheater, Jiang Cheng viciously thinks as he makes his way up to his apartment but for the second time today he freezes on the spot when he comes face to face with Nie Mingjue.

Nie Mingjue is sitting with his back to Jiang Cheng’s door, clearly waiting for him and Jiang Cheng works his jaw.

This is not going to be pretty, and the way his heart starts to beat faster at the sight of the other man is not going to help at all.

“What do you want?” he snaps out and Nie Mingjue opens his eyes.

“Xichen told me what happened,” he says as he gets up and Jiang Cheng scoffs.

“Great, are you here to tell me to suck it up and apologize as well?”

“What? No, why the hell would I do that?” Nie Mingjue demands to know and Jiang Cheng sends him a scathing glance.

“It seems to be the theme of the day. You’ve been friends with Lan Xichen for almost all of your life. Surely you must have something to say on his behalf. Everyone else does.”

“Is that why you didn’t call me or Huaisang? Because you think we’ll be on his side?”

“My siblings are, so why should I think that you are any different? Even my blood relatives don’t believe me, so why the hell should I think your reaction wouldn’t be the same?” Jiang Cheng demands to know as he stands in front of his door.

He’s not going to let Nie Mingjue inside if the other man is going to break his heart as well today.

“He cheated on you! How the hell would I ever be on his side, friends or not? Do you really think that low of me that I would condone such behaviour? And towards you nonetheless?” Nie Mingjue shoots back and just like that Jiang Cheng loses all of his fight.

“Yeah, well, let’s be real here, we all knew our relationship was going to end,” he mutters and turns around to get the door open, but he doesn’t invite Nie Mingjue in. He’s certain he will follow him anyway.

His apartment looks about the same as it did before and it hits Jiang Cheng all over again just how little stuff Lan Xichen brought over to him in the first place. Maybe that should have been a clue for him at the very start.

He finds the key where he told Lan Xichen to leave it and Jiang Cheng’s mouth twists bitterly as he pockets it. He’ll have to figure out what to do with it later.

“Listen, what he did was wrong,” Nie Mingjue says from behind him and Jiang Cheng turns around to him. “If he loved someone else, he should have broken up with you.”

“Like I did?” Jiang Cheng dares to ask and the look he gets from Nie Mingjue is far more understanding than he deserves.

“At least you didn’t cheat,” he gives back and avoids his eyes.

“But it was close,” he reminds Nie Mingjue because there had been a moment where only a sheet of paper would have fit between them.

“But you didn’t,” Nie Mingjue reiterates. “And at least we didn’t do it in his apartment,” he then tries to joke and Jiang Cheng hates how it works.

“I doubt he’s going to thank me for it.”

“He doesn’t have to thank you for it. He has to apologize to you for his actions,” Nie Mingjue corrects him.

“That’s not going to happen,” Jiang Cheng says because even if Lan Xichen would want to Jiang Cheng doubts that Jin Guangyao would let him.

He’ll probably convince Lan Xichen that they did nothing wrong and that it’s all Jiang Cheng’s fault in the first place.

“What are we going to do now?” Nie Mingjue asks, addressing the elephant in the room and Jiang Cheng shrugs.

“I don’t know. He’s your best friend. I don’t know what you want to do.”

“My best friend wouldn’t have cheated, no matter on who,” Nie Mingjue gives back. “I’m not sure I still know him at all, to be honest,” he then admits and Jiang Cheng hates that this is also damaging Nie Mingjue’s and Lan Xichen’s relationship.

“I never wanted to impact your friendship,” Jiang Cheng whispers but Nie Mingjue shakes his head.

“It’s not even just that, it’s not just about you. It feels as if he slipped through my fingers a while ago. Maybe even all the way back when Jin Guangyao first tried to take the company down and Xichen was on his side. He certainly didn’t feel like my best friend anymore when I fell in love with you.”

“He always assured me that they were just friends, even though I never once accused him of anything,” Jiang Cheng recalls, deciding not to comment on the last part. He’s not sure it would do them any good right now.

“Clearly,” Nie Mingjue deadpans and then heaves out a sigh. “Where does that leave us?” he then brings the topic back, clearly unwilling to let it go and Jiang Cheng searches for his gaze.

“What do you want?” he challenges him and Nie Mingjue works his jaw a few times before he finally seems to make a decision.

He walks up to Jiang Cheng and cages him in, Jiang Cheng’s back to the counter and both of Nie Mingjue’s arms at his sides.

“You,” Nie Mingjue whispers in the scant space between them. “But it has to be your decision too,” he then adds and moves to take a step back.

Jiang Cheng knows that this is probably not the smartest idea, especially not today and not with how everything went over but his cowardice has kept him from this for too long and he’s sick and tired of denying both of them what they so clearly want.

Screw Lan Xichen because at least despite his feelings Jiang Cheng had never stooped so low as Lan Xichen did today.

“It is my decision too,” Jiang Cheng says and when Nie Mingjue does take that step back Jiang Cheng follows him, staying right in his space and closing that last bit of distance between them.

When they part again, Jiang Cheng is breathless and his face feels as if it’s on flames.

“We should have done that sooner,” he rasps out. “I definitely would have broken up with him then.”

“We’ll just have to make up for lost time now,” Nie Mingjue decides and leans back in.

Jiang Cheng knows that things are not going to be easy, especially not at first and with how entangled all of their lives are but Jiang Cheng dares to hope that with Nie Mingjue at his side he’ll get through it.

Only time will tell, though.

 Link to my ko-fi

#bt writes #mingcheng #24daysofmingcheng22 #the untamed #mdzs #break-up #cheating #for xicheng #getting together #hurt/comfort #messy relationships