#no more serious posts. let's change the subject

[gretavangroupie]

The Ripe and The Ruin (Chapter 7)

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader, OC x Reader

Word Count: 10.2k

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Smoking, Angst, Anxiety, Allusions to Cheating, Lying, Jealousy, Sexual Themes, Crying.

Find the Playlist Here: Apple Music | Spotify

A new series in collaboration with my talented co-writer @gretavanmoon.

A/N: Thanks so much for waiting for us while we took our little break. We had the absolute best time at our shows. We plotted and schemed most of the week and there really is quite a bit of exciting new things on the horizon, so keep your eyes peeled.

"Like all good fruit, the balance of life is in the ripe and ruin."

DUBLIN, IRELAND

HER POV

“There,” you whispered, putting the final touches on the food display. You gathered up the empty boxes and trash and made your way out the back door of the venue to dispose of them. You hoped you wouldn’t see anyone along the way, keeping your AirPods in as a public declaration to leave you alone.

You’d thrown yourself into work the last week, doing things that didn’t even fall under your scope of work just to fill the time. Your phone was on mute, but that didn't stop the calls. The texts. The songs. They all still came, but you paid them no mind. You couldn’t. You couldn’t be that girl. You couldn’t be the one to ruin a relationship. 

You hadn’t spoken to Jake since the friend request came through. You still hadn’t even accepted it. You didn’t know if you even should. She obviously knew who you were, and that alone scared you more than anything. How did she know?

You hadn’t spoken to Josh either. He had done his best to avoid you since that night in the bar, his look more than disappointed as he walked away. You felt a twinge of regret that you’d let him down, but you and Jake were nothing, and he has a girlfriend. He should be more mad at Jake than you. 

A call rings through your AirPods, the robotic voice alerting you to Ruth’s Facetime call. You make the split second decision to accept it, pulling your phone from your pocket and tapping the green button. 

“Hello,” you answer, shielding your face from the sun. 

“God, it’s so weird that it’s sunset there and I’m just now eating breakfast,” she says, taking a bite of a bagel. 

“Babes it’s literally what, noon there? Why are you just now eating breakfast?”

“Ugh, this isn’t about me, quit changing the subject,” she gripes.

“What?! I just–”

“Did you accept it yet?” she asks, wiggling her eyebrows. 

“No! Are you insane! Why would I do that! Then she would know that I know who she is, and then she would know that I know she knows who I am!” you shout. 

“Yeah, I…am not even gonna try to decipher what you just said,” she says, shaking the ice in her coffee. 

“Ruth! Ugh!”

“What!? I’d accept it, you have nothing to hide. It’s not like you’re posting about him.”

“But–”

“But what? Show her you’re a hot bitch and she should be scared!” she laughs, tilting her head side to side. 

“You are actually a terrible influence,” you scoff. 

“Fine, what about McSexy,” she says, slurping up the last bits of coffee through her straw.

“Are you done with that yet? GOD.”

“You’re so dramatic,” she laughs, tossing it into the trash. “Spill about Beefy McGuns before I throw myself off a cliff.”

“Yeah I am the dramatic one,” you sigh, rolling your eyes. “Murph is…well, he’s good I guess. We have been hanging out a little bit since… ya know. We snuck into the hotel pool a few days ago, got Gelato night before last and last night we went to Temple Bar because the guys had an outing thing.”

“Okay, so you and McDouble are like kinda hot and heavy courting,” she asks. 

“Please don’t call him McDouble, that is gross. I mean, courting sounds kinda…more serious than it is. We are just hanging out.”

“A lot.”

“Yeah, kind of a lot,” you admit. 

“Do you like him more than Mr. Pene-Traitor?”

“RUTH ANNE!” you shout, trying to stifle back laughter. 

“Answer the question,” she snaps. 

“No! I don’t know! I mean, I like them equally for different reasons,” you answer.

“Well who is better in the sack?”

“Um…”

“Oh my god, you haven't slept with McSexy yet?” she asks, mouth gaping open.

“No! It hasn’t…gone there yet,” you reply. 

“Yet…So you intend for it to…” she smirks. 

“Well, I wouldn’t hate it,” you laugh. “I’m kinda like not planning to sleep with Jake again after all this shit. Murph seems less…complicated. He’s fun, and respectful, and we just mesh so well when we hangout. We have a lot in common and it’s just so easy. It’s not serious or anything but I’m trying to see where this thing goes.”

“So guitar daddy is out, officially…”

“Jesus Christ, Ruth.” you sigh, “I mean I haven't spoken to him in almost a week now. I’ve been ignoring every attempt and conveniently finding myself in the opposite room as him. I don't know what to even say to him without exploding so I have just been saying nothing.”

“Has he added any songs or anything?” she asks, quirking a brow. 

“A few but I haven’t replied,” you answer. 

“Oh I bet it’s eating him up, too.”

You shrug your shoulders as you see the back door open, Sam stepping out to light up a cigarette. 

“Hey, I gotta go, the family unit is present,” you say quietly nodding your head to the side. 

“Okay, well, personally I think you should accept her request. I’d think it's more suspicious that you haven’t if I were her. Maybe she just wants to talk.”

“I will think about it,” you say, pursing your lips. “I’ll text you later, okay?”

“Alright alright, and don’t forget my souvenir. I want one with sandy brown hair, blue eyes and an Irish accent.”

“You are actually so annoying.”

Your phone dings in your ear as a text flashes across the screen. 

“Oh shit,” you gasp. “It’s Murph.”

“What's up McBeefy?!” Ruth shouts. 

You open the text, reading it over quickly as a smile crosses your face. 

“Oh okay, why are you blushing Y/N? Huh, huh? Why you smiling like that?”

“So, he just said that The Black Keys are going to be in Glasgow on our day off next week,” you say, a little shocked. 

“As in The Black Keys that you’ve loved your whole life Black Keys?”

“Those would be the ones…”

You

6:02PM: How did you know I love them?

Murph

6:03PM: Just had a feeling 😉

Murph

6:04PM: I’m gonna tell the guys, I’m sure they will want to go. 

You

6:05PM: I definitely want to go.

Murph

6:06PM: Well good thing I just bought us tickets

“Hello?! Earth to Y/N!” Ruth shouts, and truthfully you forgot she was on the line. 

“Fuck, sorry,” you say, reopening Facetime.

“What did you say?!”

“I told him I want to go and he said he already bought us tickets,” you smile. 

“Mmhm, yeah it’s not serious at all though,” she mocks. 

“Gotta go! Love you bye!” you smile, ending the call and shoving your phone into your pocket.

You nod to Sam as you walk back into the building, making your way back into the greenroom to finish up. Your music begins to play through your AirPods again, and you feel a sense of calmness now that you’ve gotten a little reassurance from Ruth. You tidy up the room a bit, grabbing a few empty cans and chip bags and banishing them to the trash can that is seemingly invisible to these four men.

Just as you turn around you see Jake stepping into the room with his eyes on you. 

Fuck. 

You jump back a bit in shock, watching as he throws his hands up in innocence.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, a guilty look on his face. 

You pull your earbuds from your ears and place them in their case as you lean against the wall behind you. “It’s fine. What’s up?” you ask, trying to seem casual. 

“You think we can talk for a second?” he asks, rubbing his fingers over his chin. 

“Um, right now? I’m just finishing this up?” you counter, not really feeling like this is the best time for, well, this. 

He walks over to the small couch, tapping the spot next to him, “Please, just for a second.”

His brown eyes lock with yours and you know there is no way you can deny him. He had that effect on you. You nod and walk over to him, sitting next to him. Maybe this is it. 

You watch as he pulls in a deep breath as if trying to organize the thoughts in his head. He swallows nervously and turns his gaze to you. 

“You know, this last week has been…well, to be honest, it’s been complete shit,” he starts, locking his fingers together. “We went from seeing each other nearly every day and texting and everything to…whatever this is. Not speaking…”

You nod your head, wanting to hear his piece before giving your own. 

“I miss you. I’ve missed you a lot. I have hated every second of this silence and I would very much like to get things back to how they were before… all of this.”

Did Josh not tell him about Murph? Surely he had…

His hand reaches for yours, grabbing it in his own as he continues and you are praying he is ready to come clean. 

JAKE POV

“I know I’ve been a total and complete asshole, Y/N, and you don’t deserve that. That’s not me,” you go on, squeezing her hands in yours. Your voice continues to crack, and the emotion you feel while telling her all this actually surprises you. It’s hard to talk to her, hard to get things out. But you only know that it is because you’re positive that it all means something bigger. Your internal alarm clock is ticking, you can feel the time to get on stage is drawing closer and closer. “I just want you to know how sorry I am.”

“Jake, listen. I appreciate your apology, but I'm still not even sure what you’re sorry for? I mean, I know shit went sideways but, you never even told me why…” she goes on, pure confusion painting her expression. “I know that I was and am being left in the dark about something, and I don’t want to end up looking like the idiot.”

“Fuck, I know,” you say, rubbing a hand over your face. You can feel the bile swirling in your stomach as you prepare to speak again. “If you… I want to talk to you some more, and explain myself, but…”

“...You go on in like fifteen minutes and you aren’t even dressed yet,” she answers.

You nod, sucking in your bottom lip. Her eyes are glazed over, not with tears, but with some other overwhelming sentiment. Your voice shakes as you go on. “If you’re willing to hear me out, I have a long story I want to tell you.”

She takes a second to consider, and you know that she could just as easily tell you to fuck off, get away from her, and to never speak to her again. But instead she nods, meeting your eyes with pity. “It’s hard saying yes to this Jake, I’m not gonna lie…”

“I know it is. I know it, I’m so sorry, I’m just. You deserve to hear it all. From me,” you beg. The anxiety of it all is making you dizzy, and you hadn’t even told her anything yet. But you’re positive that when the time comes, it will all be worth it. She’s worth it. 

“Please trust me.”

She nods again. “Just…come to my room after the show?”

“I’ll be there,” you agree with a smile, and you feel the faintest hint of positivity, a tiny flame burning at the end of the tunnel. 

—

After an electric show, you dab the towel across your forehead and neck, wiping away the heavy sweat beads that continue to pour down. 

“Just keeps getting better and better, guys!” Paul compliments you as you pass by, making your way down the hall to the green room. 

“Thanks, man. Appreciate you,” you reply with a pat to his shoulder.

“Daniel, you hitting the shower?” you ask as you watch him take a seat on a red leather chair.

“Mm, here in a few, gonna have a drink first.” He pulls Mia over by the hand to sit on his lap, playfully wiping his sweat-covered arm across her face. “Where are Josh and Sam?”

You quietly walk over to the craft table, giving Y/N a sweet glance as you grab a mini bag of chips from the box, watching as she and Ty fiddle around with whatever random food is displayed across the table. “I dunno, they seemed like they were bickering all night, did you notice that?”

“Mmmhm,” Danny says through a long drink of a seltzer. “I could literally see the fuckin’ blurry tension between them, who the hell knows. He say anything to you, Ly?”

“Mmm, nope. Didn’t say anything to me…” Lyla avoids his gaze. You glance to Ty, and he offers you the same answer.

Just then, Josh and Sam burst through the door in a huffed mess of antics, yelling obscenities at one another as Josh’s hands fly up in the air around him. These two rarely fight, but every once in a while, one of them will get under the other’s skin. And sometimes it’s even worse, when they both manage to piss the other off so profusely, things can sometimes get physical. 

Josh’s voice is raised, and Sam’s face and neck are blotched red. You know that whatever it is, it isn’t good. 

“How about you stay the hell out of my face and sit the fuck down somewhere, huh?” Sam yells, grabbing a White Claw from the mini fridge and chugging it all almost in one drink. Your eyes dart directly to Danny who is just as stunned as you are, and equally as confused. 

“I’ll sit the fuck down when you stop running your fucking mouth, Sam,” Josh barks.

“Whoa, whoa, what the hell is going on?” you ask, moving toward them.

“Oh nothing, nothing, brother. Nothing at all,” Sam huffs, fury raging from him. You watch his eyeliner-covered eyes skitter across the room and finally land on Y/N, glaring at her from his peripheral. What the fuck?

For some reason, just his look pisses you off. 

“Not nothing, the fuck is your problem?” you ask him again, shooting your eyes between him and Josh. You see Mia rise up from Danny’s lap, joining Lyla on the couch. They sit closely together, and you swear they’re both biting back laughs. 

You finally move your eyes to Josh, giving him a stern look only the two of you can understand. ‘You got something to say?’ you ask him in your mind. 

He replies with an eye roll, shrugging his shoulders as he slips his stage jacket off. Josh is biting his tongue, you can tell, and the look in his eye is one you’ve seen often. With whatever rage he’s harboring mixed with the however many fireball shots he’s taken tonight, this could get bad. 

You look at Danny, as he knows the heavy feeling in the room all too well, too. You mentally ask him for backup.

Danny stands and clears his throat. “Uh, so… we going out tonight? We’re wasting moonlight if so…”

You jump in and agree. “Yeah, yeah let’s go grab a Guinness or something.” The room stays quiet as you and Danny make moves to get going, but the heaviness is still there. You decide to turn the attention elsewhere. “Y/N, Ty, you coming out with us?”

You can tell that Y/N feels like she’s invading the awkward encounter that’s currently happening in the room, just from her body language. 

“Yeah, um, sure… I suppose…” she says meekly. You offer her a little grin of reassurance.

“Oh, you mean you’re not hanging out with Murph tonight? Shocking!” Josh interjects, the tone of his voice menacing. Your head shoots to him. 

Y/N shakes her head, her entire demeanor falling. “Uh, no? No, why would I…” she stammers. 

“Just figured,” Josh continues, “You guys seemed pretty cozy the other night when I caught you making out at the bar in Paris, just thought you’d be continuing the festivities!”

“Josh!” Ty yells.

Hold…the fuck…on…

Your ears go deaf as you process Josh’s words, all the blood draining from your body, your extremities numb, your throat instantly dry. What the fuck. What the fuck??? He’s lying… That’s not true… she wouldn’t…

You hear a collective snicker from Mia and Lyla, both of them obviously loving whatever fucking show is happening right now. 

You somehow find the courage to look at Y/N, her face bloodshot and dripping with embarrassment as she turns away.

You feel like you’ve been hit by a truck. Making out? With Murph? Paris… a week ago? And Josh didn’t bother to…

You can’t find the will to move, or speak, or breathe or anything. Your mind is wracked with confusion and stress, wondering what in the hell is going to happen next.

—

HER POV

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you turn to look at Josh. 

Why? Why did he say that?

Your eyes scan the room as everyone stares at you, but all you can focus on is the look on Jake's face. It was a look similar to the one you received from Josh that night, but Jake’s hurt worse. Hit you deeper. You feel the knife twisting in your chest. 

You can see his neck growing red, the color creeping up into his cheeks as his anger starts to bubble up. Your eyes flash over to Mia and Lyla who are snickering in the corner like two highschool bullies. 

You shake your head and press your tongue to your cheek as you try to figure out an appropriate response. You decide at that moment that you owe none of them a single word. You silently grab your things and head to the door, brushing Jake’s shoulder as you pass. 

“Guess you’re not the only one with secrets, are you?”

You cut your eyes to Josh, completely shocked at his audacity to speak about something that didn’t involve him so publicly. It seemed out of character for him and you can tell by the way everyone is reacting to his outburst. 

You barely make it through the back door as the tears start to fall against your will. You feel so embarrassed. Everything has gotten so out of hand and now Josh hates you and you know Jake isn’t too far behind him. 

You just need to go back to your hotel room. Go back and be alone and cry in peace. You pull your phone from your purse and find the address for the hotel, and much to your displeasure, you see that it is a brisk three mile walk. Not to mention it is 42 degrees. You lock your phone in frustration knowing you have to go back inside and wait for the van to take you all back. 

You sneak back inside and head straight for the bathroom, locking yourself in one of the stalls and sitting down on the toilet bowl. You know the van isn’t going to leave for at least another thirty minutes, if not more. You let the tears flow freely in the confines of the bathroom stall, until you physically can’t anymore. You dry up your cheeks with the sleeve of your shirt as a notification from Ruth pushes through. 

Ruth

11:43PM: You do it yet?

You decide to bite the bullet. Who even cares anymore at this point?

You open Instagram and tap on her request, hitting the little blue ‘accept’ button and watching as her page populates with photos. Right off the bat you see how pretty she is, every picture perfectly effortless and aesthetically pleasing. Then, you see Jake. Happy, smiling, and holding her. Recently.

You're surprised by the feelings swirling through you, as you’d convinced yourself that your feelings for him were much smaller than they apparently were. You look at every single photo, and with each swipe you feel your own guilt start to grow larger and larger. 

Had you ruined this?

You hear noise in the hallway and know that they are leaving, heading to the bar or wherever they decided. You wait until you hear them leave, letting yourself out of the stall and into the empty hallway. As you approach the green room you know you want to get in, finish cleaning up, and leave, avoiding as many people as humanly possible. You press your ear to the door to listen for voices, but you hear nothing and know that the coast is clear. 

Though, when you open the door, you are met with someone, and thankfully it’s a friendly face. You see Ty grabbing the canned drinks from the fridge and throwing them into a cooler. He spots you, looking relieved and stops what he’s doing. 

“There you are,” he sighs in relief. 

“Wha– What are you doing here, I thought everyone left?”

He walks towards you, taking you into a hug before you can even process what he’s doing. It’s as if he already knows how you’re feeling and you fall into it, letting him wrap you up in his arms. 

“I’ve been around long enough to know how shit tends to go down in this family. I knew that Josh was in one of his moods tonight and Sam pushed him over the edge. Unfortunately, you were on the receiving end of things. I don’t blame you for walking out, but I am glad you came back.”

“Why are you always looking out for me?” you ask, feeling like you might cry all over again. 

“Real recognizes real, baby,” he winks, releasing you from the hug and returning back to the cooler. 

“Ty,” you whine, knowing you don't deserve his kindness. 

“Look, I know I shouldn’t, because he needs to do this himself, but I am really sorry about Josh. I’m gonna make him apologize to you as soon as I see him, I swear.”

“No, no, no. It’s okay. He is right. This whole thing is a mess and he and Jake and shit, even Sam, have the right to be mad at me. I fucked up.”

He shrugs his shoulders, “It’s a little bit of a mess but, it will get cleaned up. And as for Sam, I don’t think Sam is mad at you, per say, but more of just the situation and how he learned of it. There’s been some other shit going on with him lately, but don’t you worry I’m on your team, here.”

“You don’t need to be on my team, Ty. You have dealt with enough of my shit,” you laugh, hoping he doesn’t actually take your advice. 

He closes the cooler up and takes one last look around the room, both of you finding it spotless. “Oh, just let me. This is my shit and I am used to corralling these rowdy motherfuckers, I do it in my sleep.”

You laugh and shake your head, “Alright, alright, fine.”

He nods in victory before turning to you again, “You’re coming to the bar, right?”

“No, I’m probably gonna go back to the hotel and cry some more.”

“Actually, you’re not. You’re gonna go back to the hotel, pretty yourself up and come meet me.” He flits his hand to his chest as he points to himself. “I’ll text you the address when I get there.”

“Ty I can’t! I can’t even face Jake right now! And Mia and Lyla… I don’t know…” you stammer. 

“No, hang out with me all night. You don’t even have to talk to those bitches, I don’t half the time.”

You laugh at his honesty, and realize maybe you could go tonight.

“I don’t know…”

“Listen, it will look a lot worse if you don’t go darling,” he says, tilting his head to the side. You know he’s right. 

“Alright, fuck it.”

—

TY POV

Involving yourself in other people’s business wasn’t always your forte. In fact, it was something you tried to stray far, far away from. The thought of adding unnecessary stress into your life seemed daunting and pointless, especially when the outcome ended up being opposite of the one you desired, but, nonetheless… You find yourself here, completely involved in whatever drama is transpiring between Jake and Y/N. 

It’s none of your business in the least. It never was. But you could tell from the get-go that if no one else was going to step in and try to help each of them realize what was happening in front of them, you would have to be the one to do it. Who better, honestly?

You told Jake from the beginning that Isla seemed shady… though at first the two of them seemed like the happiest of two human beings, just like all new relationships do. She was good for him, and he treated her well. The day he told you and Josh that he told her he loved her, you were happy for him. Happy for them both. Things were good and they were taking Jake’s career changes in stride together. That was until you started to see straight through that bitch. 

That’s right, you’re not uncomfortable saying it anymore. She turned into a true-blue, cold hearted bitch. 

What started off as snide little remarks to Jake, in public, grew into full-blown insults that had you left with your mouth hanging open in disbelief. He let it slide off his back, though, and you swore it was like no one else even noticed it. How her behavior had changed almost overnight. You could see the respect she once held for Jake morphing into resentment right before your eyes, but everyone else seemed to think it was normal. 

It didn’t take long, though, for Josh’s twin-sense to be set off when he felt Jake’s normally low-key temper burning into fury; he was quite literally like a pot that was going to boil over anytime. Josh realized, but you don’t think he ever really realized, though to you, it was plain as fucking day. 

You and Josh welcomed him into your home, let him crash on the couch or in the guest room after he’d run away from her. It almost started to drive you insane that everyone else was just watching on as he let her walk all over him, all in the name of what everyone thought was love.

No. Fuck that. She may have loved him, but your senses absolutely buzzed with the feeling that all she was there for anymore was his status and fame. It made you sick how she took advantage of his popularity and his talent, only wanting to go out with him if it meant she’d be seen attached to his arm, only wanting to support him when it meant she’d reap the benefits. Made you fucking sick. 

But, like a good brother in law, you kept your mouth shut for the most part, until one day things got so bad you realized that Jake had seen the light, fully disconnecting himself from her right before you all left for this tour. 

And the minute you realized he was taking interest in Y/N, you felt like your heart could explode with relief for him. Finally, a distraction. The day you let him know how you felt about Isla in the bar was the first time you really said anything at all to him, hoping that your words of honesty would help to further the situation. 

But now… Now. Fuck, it seems like things have gotten messier than you anticipated. Y/N is the first person you’ve met in a while who matches your energy, who connects with you without any effort to do so. You like her a lot, and you are fighting to be on her team. But damn, if it doesn’t seem like she just dug herself into a hole…

So after what the fuck ever just happened in the green room, you know it’s time to strap your boots on and fix things, or at least try to. You’re no stranger to mediating arguments within this family, so you feel no shame in waltzing into this bar with a new flame lit under you. You’ve gotta fix this. For Y/N, and for Jake. 

You blow warm air into your hands as you walk into the bar, finding everyone gathered around a large table together. Good, they haven’t ripped each others’ heads off yet.

You take an empty seat next to Josh, greeting him with a quipped ‘Hey’ as you’re still a little bit pissed at his behavior earlier. His hand lands on your thigh, but you quickly pull it away, knowing that if you’re going to be the middleman here, everyone has to be on a level playing field. 

“The hell is wrong with you?” Josh slurs into your ear. 

You shoot a look his way, letting him know that now is not the fucking time. A quick glance around at everyone tells you that they’re all already fairly intoxicated, still sneering at one another overtop of their half-empty glasses. Great. Perfect. 

You take notice that Murph isn’t here, which is a good thing right now. He might need to stay behind and let the others have it tonight. You cross your arms over your chest as you make yourself comfortable in your seat. You clear your throat dramatically, effectively getting the attention of the table.

“Alright motherfuckers, who wants to tell me exactly what just happened in the green room?” you demand, taking a second to look Sam and Josh in the eyes first. The entire table groans and waves you off, except Sam, who gives you a look that says ‘Can’t tell you right now, but I will explain later…” He then does a quick glance to Lyla. You take mental note of that. 

Of course, Josh speaks first. “There’s not much to say, Ty… I caught our runner making out with our head of security last week, I don’t know what else you want me to say…”

“I want you to tell the table why you are so pissed off about that, Josh. Why are you so concerned with something that isn’t your business?” you quip back.

Josh mirrors your stance, crossing his own arms as he motions to Jake. “Hm, I don’t know, why don’t you ask my fucking twin, huh?” Everyone then turns all their attention to Jake, putting him directly in the spotlight. Your stomach turns over with nerves as you feel the tension in the room thickening with every passing second. You don’t want to do things this way. But, you’ve learned from experience, getting it all out on the table is the best way for them to do things like this. 

Jake is standing, running his tongue across his teeth, his face already glimmering with a nervous sweat. “Okay, fuck it,” he sets his beer down on the table, yanking a free chair out from underneath it and harshly taking a seat. “Y/N and I have been hooking up since tour started. Pretty regularly. Thought things were good. But I guess it doesn’t fucking matter anymore since apparently I was dumb to the fact that she’s more into our beloved Murphy.” You can tell he is seething. 

You hear Mia and Lyla gasp like the news was brand new to them. “So it’s fucking true, then, huh Jacob?!” Lyla practically yells, leaning over the table at him. “Ohhh, we fucking knew it, you sorry ass bitch.”

“It’s actually none of your fucking business, Lyla, so why don’t you lay the fuck off,” he retaliates.

You watch Mia put her hand on Lyla’s chest as she leans across her toward Jake, her words spitting with venom to him. “Actually it is my fucking business, Jake, Isla is my best friend you absolute dick! And she’s your fucking girlfriend!”

Jake almost stands from his chair completely, leaning over to her now. “She’s not my girlfriend anymore, Lyla! She hasn’t been for a long time! She just won’t admit it to anyone or even herself! Don’t speak on things you have absolutely no fucking idea about, Lyla. It’s not a good fucking look.” Jake is visibly vibrating with rage. You feel Josh doing the same.

Next thing you know you hear Sam bellowing toward Jake. “Hey, don’t fucking speak to her like that, man, or I swear to god–”

“Oh, I’d be fucking careful, Sam, given I know all the dirty details about our little conversation in my room the other night…” Jake defends himself with a finger pointed directly to Sam. His jaw is clenched so tightly you think he might break his teeth. 

Sam gives Jake a death glare that you know all too well, as Lyla turns in her seat to face him. “What the fuck is he talking about, Samuel? Is that why you disappeared drunk off your ass the other night? To go to Jake’s room? What did you talk about?”

Sam closes his eyes as he tries to diffuse his rage. “What the fuck ever, I’m just pissed everyone knew about Y/N and Jake besides me,” he slurs. “Always failing to let me in on the fuckin’ secrets.” You roll your eyes at Sam, suddenly confused and intrigued about what kind of conversation he had with Jake, anyway. 

“This is why, Sam! Right here! Shit blows up!” Jake yells. 

Josh groans, leaning his elbows on the table to Jake. “Yeah, just like I fucking told you it would.”

Jake scoffs hard. “Don’t talk to me about shit blowing up when you didn’t tell me for a god damn week that she was fucking around with Murph behind my back, Josh!”

“Ohhhhhoho, don’t try and pull that, I told you this shit wasn’t going to work anyway,” Josh responds with a sneer. 

“Wasn’t going to work?!” Mia yells. “What do you mean, wasn’t going to fucking work?! You have a girlfriend Jacob, are you a fucking idiot?!”

You watch as Danny physically lets his face fall into his hands, shaking his curls side to side.

“Alright, alright, everybody calm the fuck down,” Josh says loudly, actually qualming a situation for once in his life. “Let’s take a break, let’s talk this out.”

You dart your head to the side to give him a sharp look. “No, Josh, you’re the one who opened your big mouth in the green room and set everybody off, let’s hash this shit out right now. Everyone’s doing an excellent job of letting it all fly. Let’s not stop now,” you argue, putting your foot down. You motion with your hand to everyone at the table. “Keep going, let’s go…”

You hear a wholehearted laugh come from Jake at Josh’s expense.

Sam looks at Lyla, raising his voice a little. “Is this why you’ve been so fucking irritable lately?”

Oop, shouldn’t have gone there, kid.

She shoots back in her chair, looking as if she’s ready to pounce on him. “Whoa, whoa, irritable? Excuse me? Actually ya know what, yeah, I guess it fucking is!” She yells. “You’d be fucking pissed too, wouldn’t you?!”

“I guess I don’t know, since nobody ever fucking tells me anything!” Sam retaliates with his hands in the air.

“Sam you have got to be fucking kidding me… Do you not remember me sleeping on your couch for days at a time? Do you think I just did that because I missed you? Be serious…” Jake says with a little sincerity in his tone. 

“I don’t know! Shit, I guess I just thought you were…”

“Thought I was what?! Bored? Lonely? Hated my own home? Well, I guess that last one kinda makes fucking sense, now, huh?” Jake goes on, running a hand over his mouth.

Lyla speaks up. “All those nights you spent at our house Jake… you know Isla cried herself to sleep each and every one. Talked to me on the phone until 3AM until she couldn’t cry anymore because you fucking left her, over and over again–”

Jake leans his elbows on the table, hiding his face behind his folded hands. You can tell by the redness in his face that he is holding himself back from absolutely laying into Lyla. 

“Oh, you don’t even want to start with me, Lyla…” he grits his teeth, the vein in his head pulsing with rage again. 

“Chill out, Jake…” you hear Josh warn under his breath. 

“Do you know why I left, Lyla? Over and over again?!” His tone calms. “Yeah, I bet you don’t because all you care about is her fucking side of the story… did it not occur to you that I have one, too? What about my fucking feelings, huh? How do you know she’s not purposefully making me out to look like the bad guy? I bet nothing was her fault, was it? Hm?” He asks, looking around the table. Everyone stays silent, avoiding his glare. 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. No one bothered to come and ask me what was wrong, hear my side of the story. Fucking figures, she always gets what she fucking wants, anyway,” he goes on, suddenly able to breathe through his words. “None of you cared to realize I’ve been fucking miserable for months? Tried ending things for months? I bet not, huh. You only got lies and a sob story from Isla.” He takes a deep breath. Keep going Jake…

“So yeah, I tried to end things with Isla. Multiple times. Now I know I have royally fucked up with making my life messier than it needs to be–”

“She still fucking lives with you, Jake–” Lyla cuts. 

“Yeah, I fucking know that, genius,” he eyes her sideways. “You think this has been easy for either of us? I asked her to move out way before we started packing for this fucking tour… So yes. I did start hooking up with someone else. And you know what? I don’t regret a goddamn second of it. I finally found something that makes me fucking happy, and not miserable every single second of my life. And if you want to know why I think my actions are justified, you can speak to me directly about it. I’m a grown fucking adult, and I don’t owe you a goddamn thing if you don’t even have the decency to speak to me about my own fucking business…” Jake cuts his eyes directly to Mia and Lyla, making them sink back in their seats a little. 

Fuck yes, Jacob. Fuck. Yes. 

Just then, like a sitcom hitting its dramatic peak, Murph enters the bar, leaving everyone gathered around the table even more speechless than they were before. You feel a collective breath be taken by everyone before Jake shoots up from his seat. “Another round?”

Hell yes. Success. 

Well, kind of. Progress. 

You look at your phone, seeing that Y/N had texted you a ‘?’ about fifteen minutes ago. 

“Perfect timing, Y/N is on her way here, too!” you announce, your voice full of pep. 

“You’re shitting me, right,” Josh murmurs under his breath to you. 

“Good, great. Grand. A big family reunion, huh?” Jake says sarcastically in his faux-accent. “I’m over the fucking moon.” Jake darts his eyes to Murph for a split second before making his way back to the bar. 

You take a second to hide your phone under the table, texting Y/N back.

You

12:32AM: Come. Sit with me. I’ll have a drink waiting for you. 

—

HER POV

Your palms are sweating with nervous energy, despite the freezing cold weather. You almost didn’t go. You talked yourself out of it three times before you ever left the room, but knowing that Ty was waiting for you was enough of a reason to go. He liked you, looked out for you and treated you like a friend even though he didn’t have to. You could suck it up for one night. 

As you push the door open you’re immediately met with warm air and the smell of stale beer. It’s loud in the small bar and terribly lit, making it hard to find the group. You see a hand wave you in its direction, and at the end of it, Ty. The table he is sitting at is fairly empty, most of the group dispersed throughout the bar, playing pool or darts. He pulls out the barstool next to him, sliding a drink in your direction. 

“You made it!” he smiles, watching you sit down next to him. 

“I did. What’s going on, I feel kinda weird about being here,” you admit. 

“Ahhh, don’t worry about it, everything is fine. Promise.” he says, taking a sip of his beer. “Everyone is pretty drunk now, and has already forgotten about earlier.”

You glance around the smoky bar and as you look behind you, your eyes meet with Josh’s, who is giving you the most apologetic eyes you’ve ever seen. You give him a curt smile, and turn back around, knowing that a conversation with him is low on your list of priorities at the moment. 

You spend most of the next hour with Ty, laughing and discussing anything and everything that does not have to do with Greta Van Fleet. He’s a sweet guy and you can tell why Josh fell for him, with his ability to make everyone feel heard and wanted, so easily. 

You’re two drinks in when you feel a warm hand on your shoulder, pulling you from your conversation with Ty. You turn to look at the person, but you can smell that it’s Jake, his cologne at the forefront of your mind. You feel him lean down to your ear, his breath on your neck. 

“I’d still like to talk tonight,” he whispers, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. 

You take a deep breath and try to center yourself. You turn fully to look at him, seeing that he is not nearly as mad as he seemed earlier, and you know you want to hear what he has to say. You want to hear his side of the story you’ve pieced together over the last week. You nod at him as your eyes meet his, and he nods back, stepping away to return to the bar already going over what he will likely say later.

— 

An hour later you find yourself in your hotel room, pacing as you anxiously wait to hear from Jake. He left the bar before you did, deciding to ride back with Ty and Josh after the others left. You took a shower and tidied up your room and still, you haven't heard from him, that is, until your phone buzzed on the dresser. 

Jake

1:47AM: What is your room number?

Shit! Okay. 

You

1:48AM: 407

You know it won't be long until he is knocking on the door, and your heart is beating hard in your chest. You try to slow your breathing and calm your heart rate before he gets here, but you know it's no use because it will spike again as soon as you see him. 

The knock echoes through the room and you make your way to the door, swallowing back your nerves. As you open the door you find him standing there with one hand in his sweats pocket, and the other gripping a CD. 

You look at it as he presents it to you, a smug smile on his face as you realize what it is. 

‘An Awesome Wave’.

“This is–”

“The album we listened to on the plane, yeah,” he finishes, smiling as he steps into your room. “Found it in a record shop the other day in London. Thought of you and that first time we talked on the plane.”

You both step further into the room, your heart already twisting at his sweet gesture. He thought of you. You sit on the edge of the bed as you stare at the CD in your hands. 

“Listen, I’m sorry you had to find out about Murph like that, I never meant for that to come out like that,” you offer, letting your eyes flick up to meet his as he stands in front of you. 

“Look, I came here to apologize to you, Y/N. Not the other way around. You said I’m not the only one with secrets, and I guess that’s true, but I am more interested in setting the story straight and finding out what secrets you seem to be privy to.”

JAKE POV

She holds your gaze for just a second as she leans forward, grabbing her phone from the dresser behind you. She takes a shaky breath as her thumb dances across the screen, obviously looking for something. Your heart starts to beat faster and faster as she searches for what she’s looking for, a million different suspicions of what it could be flying through your mind. 

Finally she turns her phone, showing you a screenshot of when Isla requested to follow her on Instagram. You feel your eyes grow as you breathe out a surprised “Oh.” 

Fuckkkkkkk. She found her. 

“Yeah. This was a while ago. I accepted her request tonight after the show. I know everything, Jake. I know about you and her. I know you’ve been lying to me this entire time,” she says bravely, gritting her jaw as she speaks. 

“Let me stop you there, Y/N. Please…” you beg, preparing yourself to finally lay everything out on the line. The time had come. You take a deep breath as you readjust your seat. “Where do I even fucking begin?” you ask rhetorically. 

“If I were you, I’d start at the beginning,” she suggests firmly. 

“Alright, okay, yeah…” you agree, doing your best to find the courage. “Her name is Isla Whitman. And… Yes, she still lives in my home. Isla and I had been together for a long, long time. She was there when everything skyrocketed with the band, right when everything started to take off. She moved in with me, life was going good. She uh… things were great, obviously, as I’m sure you’ve seen from the photos…” you say, motioning to her phone. “We were really good for a long time, I was really happy…”

“But then uh, but then things started to go south. Like really, really badly.” You wipe a heavy hand across your face as you relive those terrible days again. “I started to realize that she wasn’t here for me anymore, that she was here for whatever status I held. Only here because of the success of the band and shit. Only wanted to be seen and be a part of things if it meant she would be photographed and noticed by our fans. It was weird shit, like the fame got to her, and she wasn’t the one even… anyways. She turned into a completely different person, almost overnight. Apparently, uh… it was a lot worse than I even realized, now that I’m kinda putting things into perspective, and Josh and Ty are agreeing with me. She used me. She used the hell out of me. Talked down to me all the time. Gaslit me. Made everything my fault. We got into terrible, horrible fights. All the time. I’m talking fights so bad that we both would throw things at the walls. There at the end, I started spending nights on Josh or Sam’s couch, I’d completely leave for days on end until she’d swindle me into coming back home, all for it to happen again. Over and over. It was…really fucking horrible, Y/N,” you recount, feeling a lump growing in your throat. 

“I uh, I tried to get her to move out multiple times, told her I was finished, I couldn’t do it anymore. Mentally, I was done months ago. Over it. Then the night before we left for Europe, we fought and cried until 4:00 in the morning, and our flight left at six. The only way I could get out the door was if I agreed to go on a “break”. Which I know now was a stupid fucking idea,” you go on. 

“My idea of a break was no contact, cut off completely, do our own things while she found another place to live, then when I got home, we could discuss things like rational adults and get things figured out maturely, but. Ever since we’ve been here, she’s done nothing but try to involve herself in my life even more so than she did when I was home,” you bite your cheeks in as your eyes glaze over, feeling that same gut sensation that keeps haunting you at the worst times. That guilt creeping back up again and again. 

“My intention was never to hurt you, or harm you in any way at all, Y/N. Please know that. I left Nashville thinking I was practically a free man, finally. Ready to relax and disconnect while we worked. And I never intended to find you. And I never intended to… fall for you…like I did,” you explain, looking up to her with cautious eyes. “You completely blindsided me. Made me feel emotions that I hadn’t felt in years, Y/N. I should have told you from the beginning. I know I should have. That is the one thing that I regret completely and totally. I should have been upfront with you about it all. But, I was scared of fucking it up, you know? Scared you knowing about her would push you away. And now… I guess it blew up in my face even more than I thought it would…backfired completely.” You shake your head as you exhale a deep breath, letting a silence fall between the two of you. 

“I understand, Jake,” she finally whispers. “I really do…”

“Really? You do?”

“Mhmm. I get how hard that must have been. Especially since you had no idea it was even happening for so long,” she explains. You nod your head in agreement. “Feels fucking stupid now, I should have picked up on it.” 

“But she still lives with you. Still thinks you’re hers…” she reiterates. 

“Yes. Well, I guess? She still calls constantly, still texts me incessantly–”

“Was that who was calling the night we… ya know…”

You face reddens at the memory of that first night you hooked up, when you couldn’t even fucking perform for her. You nod. “Yeah. Well, her and my techs. It was a whole thing.”

“God…” she says, standing from the bed and shaking her hands out by her sides. She starts pacing the room and running her hands through her hair. “I feel so stupid…”

“You feel stupid?! Y/N, I am the idiot, here, not you…” you argue, standing from the bed as well. “I’m the one that fucked everything up and probably lost you completely.”

She stops and rolls her eyes at you, tears poking from the corners of them. “I should have… I should have asked you if you had someone, Jake. I should have gotten to know you better…” she starts to cry. “That’s like, girl rule #1.”

“Noooo no no, please don’t cry, Y/N…” you rush to her, gently placing your hands on the undersides of her elbows as she crosses them protectively across her chest. 

She runs a hand under her eye as she wipes a falling tear away. She scoffs at herself.

“No, Y/N. That was my fault. We kinda just…happened, you know? Our lust got the best of us,” you laugh a little at the memory of sneaking her into the bathroom that night at the bar.

“My suspicions kinda drove me away, ya know? I knew something was up the night Sam came to your room, talking all that…” she says. “You hiding me in the fucking bathroom.”

“Yeah, yeah I figured as much. I should have told you right then and there, I’m so sorry,” you plead. 

“I’m not gonna lie, Jake, my trust is…”

“Probably fucking shattered, isn’t it?” you ask, feeling a bottomless feeling in your chest. Like the whole situation has no happy ending, because how could it? Everything is fucked. 

She shrugs, looking past you at nothing. “I don’t know.” She walks slowly and sits back on the bed. “And Mia and Lyla? They–”

“Lyla is Isla’s best friend, yes. So of course Mia is pulled into that, as well. And, of course they are praying on my downfall. They don’t know my side of the story,” you explain, suddenly realizing that at the same time, Y/N doesn’t know Isla’s side of this story. You hope that she takes your’s in stride. 

“Great, great. Cool,” she complains. “Now they hate me, too.”

“No, I’m not gonna let that happen. I told Lyla to come and speak with me directly if she wanted the full, true story. We’ll get that sorted out, don’t worry,” you explain. “No one hates you.”

“You aren’t mad at me for… with Murph?” she asks. 

Ah, fuck. 

“Shit, I mean… I’m not mad, I don’t guess. I’m… I guess I’m blindsided with that, too,” you know you can’t explain how you feel, because you truly haven’t had time to even process it yet. “I pushed you away, I get that. Fuck, we hardly spoke for a week. Of course you wanted nothing to do with me. Then Isla goes and adds you on social media…? I mean. Fuck, I get it. Murph is… a cool guy…” you have trouble admitting it. 

“It’s not that serious, Jake,” she says, almost a whimper. “He and I, we just… clicked.”

Her words almost cut you in half. You thought she clicked with you. 

“I get that,” you choke, as much as you hate to say it, you have hardly any dog left in this fight. “Listen, the bottom line is, I know I fucked up. Royally. I wouldn’t blame you if you never want to speak to me again. I don’t blame you for running away from me. But… I swear to god, Y/N, I would fight for you to the end of my days… You gave me something that I haven’t had in so long, I hardly remembered how it felt to be happy. You gave me excitement, and energy, and… you showed me that even though my life was absolute shit, it didn’t have to be that way. You showed me happiness, Y/N. I can’t ask for more than that. And if you ever give me another chance, I know I’d spend all my time repaying you for just that little bit of happiness you gave me, because it was one of the best times of my entire life.” You let out another shaky, huffed breath, fighting back tears, yourself.

Her eyes begin to well again, and you even work the tiniest smile from her. She licks her lips, rubbing them together. “Might take me some time, Jake. I don’t–”

“I don’t expect you to forgive me overnight. I just don’t want you to hate me.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t hate you…”

She relaxes back against the fluffy pillows on her bed, her eyes obviously becoming heavy. 

“Can we agree to start fresh? As friends? Forget about all the stupid shit?” you extend your hand out for her to shake, praying that if she could just give you this….

She takes it gently, clicking her tongue. “My intuition is telling me not to, but. I don’t see anything wrong with starting fresh… Honesty. From here on out.” She shakes it with a little firmness at the conclusion of her sentence. 

“Good. Yes. Perfect, even. I promise,” you say with a little added sugar in your words. “Please just understand that my… relationship at home is anything but. She’s… so far gone from my mind I can’t even explain it to you. My number one priority is finding her somewhere else to live when we get home.”

She nods again. “That’s really none of my business, Jake.”

“Yes it is, Y/N. We’re friends now, remember?” you give her a sexy side smile, knowing that just having her in your life again would be enough, for now. “Thank you… for hearing me out.”

“Thank you for explaining. If only you’d have done that weeks ago…” she rolls her eyes playfully. 

“I know, I know, shit,” you taunt, rising from the bed again. As she walks you to the door, you find yourself fighting off the urge to pull her in, still sobbing a little from earlier. You want to feel her touch again, feel her body against yours and kiss away the saltiness of her tears. But you can’t do that anymore. 

When she opens the door and you approach the threshold, you turn back to her, letting your hand push a strand of fallen hair from her eye. “I still want you in my life, Y/N. You’re too good to let go, I don’t wanna let you go…You’ve still got me…” you say through a whisper, feeling boldness rising in your chest.

She smiles and leans her head into the touch of your hand, but she brushes it away quickly. “Go to bed, Jake.” 

You give her one last knowing look, holding her stare for just a second too long, hoping that one last ditch effort to keep you on her mind would be enough to truly start things fresh. 

Lord knows you’d do anything to get her back again.

—

HER POV

When morning comes it feels different. A weight has been lifted from your shoulders and the day doesn’t seem so daunting. You are glad that you and Jake finally talked things through, though you wish it would have happened weeks ago when you could have stopped all this from happening in the first place. 

You quickly dress and pack your suitcase, knowing that van call is approaching quickly and that everyone will be assembling down in the lobby before you know it. You feel happy with your appearance as you make your way to the elevator, pushing the button and waiting as it climbs to your floor. As the doors spring open, you see none other than Murph waiting inside with his suitcase. 

“Well good morning,” he smiles, motioning for you to join him inside. 

“Good morning,” you answer, rolling your suitcase in behind you.

“Did you have a good evening?” he asks, adjusting his hat. 

“It was alright,” you answer truthfully. “You excited to head to Manchester?” 

“Think I’m more excited for Glasgow if I’m honest with you,” he smirks, pressing the button to close the doors. 

“Can’t imagine why,” you wink, feeling the elevator start to move toward the lobby, singing the ‘Da da da da da’s’ of ‘Howlin’ For You’.

The doors spring open and you step out onto the cobblestone lobby floor, your suitcase bumping along behind you. As you turn the corner you see your group huddled up together talking quietly. They’re standing awkwardly, seeming more out of sorts than normal. It’s then you lay eyes on the auburn haired girl you studied in great detail just last night, as she stands hand in hand with Jake.

Isla. 

In a tizzy of nerves, you turn to talk to Murph, only to find that he has walked away to meet with Dean and his own group. You’re alone and you have to face this. You swallow back your nerve and decide that you will walk over to the group with your head held high, ready to meet the girl Jake swore up and down he was done with. 

As she stands beside him. 

Holding his fucking hand. 

“Y/N!” Paul shouts, grabbing your attention as he stands next to Ty. Everyone's heads turn to look at you, including Jake’s and you feel frozen in place. His face is solemn, with a hint of guilt hiding in his brown eyes. 

You step up to the small circle of people, pretending that nothing is wrong, smiling and greeting everyone with a bright and bubbly smile. If you’re going to do anything, you’re going to make your first impression on Isla one that she won’t soon forget. Your eyes flick over to Ty who is silently telling you that you will definitely be talking later. Josh’s eyes meet yours next, sad and defeated as he stands next to her, showing his obvious feelings towards the situation you've found yourselves in. 

Jake looks clearly burdened, like a lifeless shell standing there as his face is vacant of any loving emotion whatsoever. His movements are aimless, his posture slouched. And for a split second, you actually feel sorry for him. 

Until you regain your clarity, opting to stay on the clueless side of this very obviously two-sided party. 

The lying fucking son of a bitch. 

“Oh hey, Y/N!” Lyla says cheerfully, “So glad we caught you, I just wanted to introduce you to someone. This is Isla, Jake’s girlfriend!”

Isla extends her hand to you, dropping Jake’s at his side. You can feel her laser sharp eyes digging through your skull, her glare almost enough to knock you over. Your eyes meet Jake’s, looking sad and withdrawn before you look back at Isla, and grasp her hand. “Hi, I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

She shakes your hand weakly before dropping hers to her side, falling into Jake’s shoulder to stake her claim. His face goes stark white. 

“I’m so glad to finally meet you,” she coos. “I have heard all about you.”

.

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[heartbeetz]

‼️‼️🔴 official balls post 🔴‼️‼️

Guy who won't stop talking about balls (literally the entire advertising campaign/gimmick for the first game)

#no more serious posts. let's change the subject #the devs thought they were being sooooo funny... all they did was make a guy who sucks (who I wanna kiss on the mouth sloppy style) #I have multiple followers who want suggestive/sexual stuff tagged... does this count? #suggestive #<- just in case #I hate him. there's something wrong with him. also I'm so in love with him. #roz posts #♡: 🔨🎰🥃

[ladymunson]

One 18+

Fic summary: Bucky struggles with his feelings toward you, which he hides by pretending he doesn’t trust you. You get placed on a mission together where trust is essential.

A/N: sorry if this is all over the place, it’s been a while since I’ve written anything so this might be a jumbled mess. Enjoy though!

Warnings: SMUT 18+, oral (f rec), fingering, language, unprotected p in v, kissing, heavy petting.

Word count: 5.3k

Not proofread and no beta (apologies for any mistakes)

I do NOT consent to my work being copied, translated or posted to any other platform.

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Dividers made by the wonderful @firefly-graphics and thank you to @jijilaufeyson for helping me make a decision.

“Are you serious?!” You throw your hands up in exasperation, “I’ve been with SHIELD for three years, I can do this mission by myself. I don’t need a babysitter!”

“Yes, you do.” Bucky sneers, you turn your head towards him and glare.

“I hate to agree with Barnes but he’s right, I think you still need someone to keep an eye on you. Your ex was HYDRA after all.” Tony says, as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You throw your head back in frustration, they’re never going to forget about him.

Three years ago, you had come back to the apartment you shared with you boyfriend of two years to find the place swarming with HYDRA agents. He had been assigned to you to eventually recruit you to HYDRA after they had discovered your abilities.

You’d always been able to sense how someone was feeling by just being near them and eventually it had morphed into being able to influence their emotions. You could walk into a party or a meeting and know exactly who to look out for, whether it be because they were vulnerable or someone with ill intention.

It took immense concentration, effort and energy to be able to change someone’s emotions without touching them. Which you always try and avoid, you don’t want to change someone unintentionally, you could ruin things for them. So, you manage to keep your emotions in check most of the time, and don’t accidentally influence anyone.

The moment you realised that Russell was HYDRA, you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, but they weren’t going to let you go without a fight. Luckily, you’d befriended the Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, when you’d met her and Wanda Maximoff one night at a local dive bar after Russ had blown you off again. One text to her and they’d both been at your door and helped you get away from the agents and back to the safety of Avengers Tower where you’d been subjected to an intense interrogation from Tony Stark, Cliff Barton and Bucky Barnes.

You’d thought that after all the years spent training and fighting by their sides, they would trust you by now, but obviously they don’t. Or more specifically; Bucky doesn’t. Cliff had decided you were trustworthy the first time he interrogated you and had told them as much, but Bucky wasn’t hearing it. So here you were three whole years later, still deemed untrustworthy by the Winter Soldier of all people.

“You know what…?” You start and Bucky smirks at you, adding more fuel to the fire. “I’m glad you’re doing the recon alone, gives me time to pack.” Bucky raises an eyebrow. “This is my last mission, I’m done. I quit!” You turn on your heel and leave the conference room without another word.

Bucky groans and places both hands on the table in front of him, flesh beside vibranium, and hangs his head.

“Well that went well Barnes.” Tony says as he walks over to the door. “Looks like I have to do damage control.” He points at Bucky. “You find something on that recon and figure out a way to fix this. We can’t lose her.” And leaves the room, the glass door swinging back and forth.

Bucky makes a fist and slams it down on the table in front of him. “Fuck!”

You stalk down the hallway, heading to your room, walking past everyone and ignoring them all as they try talking to you. Natasha notices and follows you to your room, the doors are automated so you can’t even slam it to let out your frustration. So, you throw your self face down on your bed and scream into the comforter. Natasha just stands by the door, not saying anything and waits for you to finish your screaming.

“Feel better?” She asks as you flip yourself over to lay on your back.

“I can’t believe he still doesn’t trust me! Well, it doesn’t matter anymore, I quit.” You say without looking in her direction.

“You didn’t quit.” Natasha says as she walks over to join you on your bed.

“I did, straight to Bucky and Tony’s faces. Both of them looked shocked but I don’t care anymore. I’m fucking done!” You say as you jump off the bed and begin going through your closet and putting clothes in a suitcase.

The one thing you want, is to have Bucky’s trust…. Okay there’s something you want more than his trust, but you’re never going to get it. If he doesn’t trust you to be member of his team, there’s no way he’s going to trust you in any sort of relationship. So rather than trying anymore, you’ve picked the nuclear option. Serves him right!

“Buck…?” Steve says as he walks into the conference room where Bucky is still hunched over the table. “What’s going on?”

“What is wrong with me Steve? Why can’t I trust people?”

“You mean y/n?” Steve asks. Bucky groans. “Buck, I think it’s obvious to everyone except you and y/n that you like her.” Bucky looks up at Steve. “In a romantic way.”

Bucky stammers, “N... no I don’t.” Steve raises an eyebrow and smirks at Bucky.

“You haven’t been in a relationship since she joined SHEILD, hell you haven’t even on a date in a year. You like her.”

“You’re right Steve, I do. But… She quit.” Bucky says as his head hangs head.

“What did you do? You know what, it doesn’t matter. Fix it!” Steve says and leaves the room.

You and Bucky avoid each other for the next week, but to be fair he was out doing recon for the mission with Sam, who had been ribbing him about his feelings for you and pissing Bucky off. They had however, been able to meet the mark and started integrating themselves into his world. Your role as Bucky’s girl would come later, and you couldn’t help feeling like he was ruining your chances to prove yourself. You could’ve done the getting to know the mark and maybe brought Bucky or Sam or even Steve in as your man later on.

You hated to admit it but their getting to know him first was the better plan as not many women were in that world.

The mark. Carlo Vizzini is the head of an organised crime syndicate, who deals stolen HYDRA and SHIELD weapons and technology to other members of the syndicate. The goal is to find the times and locations of all the shipments being brought into the city, finding a list of buyers would be the icing on the cake but it isn’t a priority.

Bucky’s role is to present himself as someone new to the area who wants to become a member of the syndicate. FRIDAY has come up with an elaborate backstory for the two of you, created entire histories for you both which you’ve spent the last week reviewing and learning. Your backstory isn’t too far away from your real story, so it isn’t hard to memorise. The problem is pretending to be his girl. How can you possibly work together and be convincing if it’s obvious to everyone that he doesn’t trust you. There has to be a reason why Tony suggested Bucky for the mission and not Steve, you don’t know what it is, not that you care because you won’t be around once this mission is completed.

The story. You and Bucky have moved to New York from Michigan, where was a mid level HYDRA agent who oversaw a warehouse that contained new tech. The place had been breached while he was attending a HYDRA event with you, and they had fired him for allowing the breach to happen (An actual event orchestrated by Vizzini).

You had been together for five years at the point you’re at, and Tony had decided to add the fact that you were recently engaged. So, you had to wear an obnoxiously huge diamond on your left ring finger, which really bugged you. You had both been set up in a brownstone in Brooklyn, sleeping in separate rooms but having to appear all lovey dovey in case you were being watched.

Four weeks later.

Carlo Vizzini has invited Bucky and you to an event hosted at his mansion in the Hamptons, where you will both be introduced to other syndicate members. So, you need a spa day and shopping trip where you can buy a dress for the event and be seen out and about acting like this is a normal occurrence. Tony has also arranged for someone from Tiffany to show up at your house and lend you some jewellery for the event as you’re a simple teeny hoop earring kind of girl.

You find the perfect dress while browsing online so it’s very easy to go and get it without having to actually search in store. Scratch that, Natasha found the dress for you and told you it would be a crime if you didn’t wear it.

The idea is to infiltrate the syndicate event, find the intel and get out without your cover being blown until the weapons and tech have been recovered. If your covers can last beyond that until the entire syndicate has been taken down, that’s even better.

So, you’ve been to the salon and had your hair done and are heading back to the brownstone when you notice the dark SUV you spotted outside the mall had parked across the road and the occupant was crossing over to you. You play it off like you haven’t noticed, a civilian wouldn’t have and that’s who you are for the foreseeable future.

“Excuse me? Y/N” The stranger starts a conversation with you.

“Yes? You answer, turning to face the person who has spoken to you.

“I’m sorry, I work for someone your boyfriend is trying to get into business with and he’s asked me to check that you out.”

You chuckle, “Fiancé.” The stranger looks confused. “He’s my fiancé, not my boyfriend. Does Mr Vizzini think we haven’t done the same the same to him? Can’t be too careful these days, too many con men around, especially in New York.”

The stranger seems a little taken aback by your words, but continues, like his job is at stake. “I have a few questions, if you wouldn’t mind answering.”

You cross your arms over your chest and cock an eyebrow. “Okay?”

He takes a picture out of his jacket and asks. “Who is this man?”

The picture is of Sam Wilson, the Falcon but you answer, “That is Sam, James’s brother, adopted of course. “

“And how long have you been together?”

“Five years, engaged for one. Are we done here? I have to get ready for a party.” You say and turn to the steps of your brownstone, heading up to your front door.

“One more question.” You turn to face him again. “Can I use your bathroom?” You sigh and open the door, directing him the right way and stay in the hallway so he doesn’t sneak anywhere else for a snoop. You hear the cistern flush and the squeak of the faucet, but you also hear the sound of the medicine cabinet being opened. Yep, he’s snooping. A few moments later he steps out of the bathroom and thanks you as he leaves your house.

You head straight into the kitchen and start the coffee machine; you then grab a detector out of the kitchen drawer and head into the bathroom. Using it to detect for a bug, which you find in the cupboard under the sink and leave it there. You have a get out your phone and send a message, one you’ve prearranged with Bucky, telling him about the bug.

‘Can’t wait to see your reaction when you see what I have on under my dress (followed) tonight. You’re not gonna be able to keep your cool or your hands (Suspicious) to yourself’

‘New lingerie?” (Bug?)

‘Maybe (yes), but you’re gonna have to wait and see’

‘Can’t wait’ (Understood)

You’re gonna have to start your charade earlier than anticipated and act like a real couple. I suppose there are worse things in life than pretending to be in a relationship with Bucky. You can’t deny that the dude is hot.

You pretend to use the bathroom by slowly pouring a bottle of water in the toilet, flushing and washing your hands. Then you head back into the kitchen to pour yourself a coffee.

Bucky arrives home a short while later, carrying a bouquet of roses (Sam’s idea) and gives you a kiss. You feel a little twinge in your stomach, feeling his lips on yours. His kiss is light and sweet.

Feeling your lips on his sends a thrill through Bucky, the feelings he’s been trying to hide for years bubbling to the surface and he has to stop himself deepening the kiss.

“There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen babe, I’m going to start getting ready. No peeking!” You say and head upstairs.

Bucky stays downstairs to drink a coffee and makes a few phone calls, all in character of course, before heading upstairs to get into his tux which takes only a few minutes. He’s back in the living room in less than ten minutes, waiting for you join him.

Bucky isn’t downstairs for very long before he hears your heels on the upper landing and stands up to greet you but at seeing you, his breath hitches in his throat.

(This is the dress you wear)

“You’re fucking stunning!” Bucky breathes out, causing you to grin.

“Not too bad yourself James.” You reply as you walk down the stairs and take his outstretched hand.

You arrive at the house in the Hamptons, impressed with the size of the place, hanging on to Bucky’s arm. The size of it is really impressive and you live in Avengers Tower.

Bucky thinks that he must thank Natasha for picking out that dress. He can’t keep his eyes off of you, that dress hugs your curves in all the right places. Bucky knows he needs to remain professional, but he really wants to get his hands on you and bring you pleasure like you’ve never known. He won’t have any problem pretending to be your lover tonight, because that’s the only thing he wants.

The party is in full swing an hour later, you’ve mingled with everyone, hanging on Bucky’s arm, acting like he’s your entire world. And to him, you are his world. It’s not acting, he’s crazy about you and has been since you met.

Another forty-five minutes go by with the both of you all over each other, giving you a reason to sneak off at some point, to find the intel you’re there to get.

Bucky’s arm is around your waist, holding you close to him as you leave the “ballroom” where the party is. You’re acting the part really well, practically hanging off of him, hands wandering. Walking down the hallway, still all over each other, opening doors looking for a place to have some privacy. Some rooms are all occupied, but the one you’re looking for is empty, Vizzini’s office. As soon as you’re in the room and you part ways, straight back to business, heading for his desk and turning on his computer. Plugging a USB drive you take off of your bracelet into it, and copying the files.

“Heads up Buck, Carlo is on his way and he’s not alone.” Sam says over comms. The last file copies just in time, and you attach the USB back to the bracelet and walk back around the desk.

“Shit!” Bucky says. “We’re gonna get caught!”

Your brain works quickly, “I have an idea, but you have to trust me.” You say as you switch the computer off.

Bucky nods. “Okay.” You pull him over to the wall beside the door and lean against it. You reach up under your dress and remove your underwear, Bucky’s eyes bulge out of his head. You throw your panties in the vicinity of the desk and reach down to undo Bucky’s pants. “What are you doing?!” He asks.

“I told you to trust me, I’ll get us out of this.” You unbutton his slacks and bunch up your skirt a little. “Lift me.” You instruct. Bucky catches on and lifts you, so your legs are wrapped around his waist. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him close. “Go with it okay?” You say. Bucky gulps but nods and your lips meet in a searing kiss that makes you both moan out loud into each others' mouths. His hips begin to move instinctively, playing the part of a man who can’t keep his hands off of his girl. Bucky feels an usual sensation, kind of like a happiness he’s never felt before. As quick as he feels it, it goes away again.

You’re moaning loudly, alternating between passionate kisses and heavy breathing when Vizzini opens the door to his office and “catches” you, entering the room with two burly bodyguards. You gasp and fake panic.

“What the…?” He exclaims, his eyes bogging out of his head before he composes himself and continues. “This is my office, not a motel room!” You giggle. “This is not a laughing matter young lady, this is very inappropriate behaviour!” Bucky lifts you and places your heeled feet back on the floor and helps you rearrange your dress before tucking his shirt back into his slacks.

“We’re sorry Mr Vizzini, but when your girl looks like this, you have a hard time keeping your hands to yourself.” Bucky says as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.

“But this is my office!” Vizzini says, exasperatedly.

“We’re sorry but other rooms were occupied!” You say with a smirk. Vizzini nods and the two bodyguards rush out of the room, they return moments later, both red faced.

Vizzini nods again and turns to you. “We will not mention this again and our meeting Tuesday will go ahead.” Vizzini says. Before sitting at his desk and making a choked sound. “I think these belong to you.” He says, pointing to the black lace panties that had landed on the keyboard of his computer. You giggle and retrieve them from his desk, biting your lip as you do.

“Sorry again!” You giggle as Bucky wraps his arm around you and leads you out of the office. You head back to the party, makes it seem less like obvious that you’re involved in espionage.

You both carry on playing the devoted couple, you’re hanging off of him like someone who can’t get enough of their man. Sneaking kisses here and there, selling the bit. Vizzini reappears a little while later and blushes when you and he make eye contact, you smirk back at him and pull Bucky in for a kiss. It’s after midnight by the time your car has pulled up outside and you’ve said your goodbyes.

You’re still all over each other as you get into the car, smiling and waving to everyone as the car pulls away. You keep the act up until you’re on your way out of the Hamptons and on the free way before you separate, in case you were followed. You stay close to each other just so you can snap back together quickly if you noticed someone watching you or for when you get back to the brownstone that is your “residence” at least until this mission is over.

You can smell Bucky’s cologne and it’s been invading your nostrils since you walked down the stairs before leaving in the early evening. It’s lingering on your skin from how you’ve been all over each other all night. You recognise it as Sauvage, one of your absolute favourites. You can’t remember Bucky ever wearing it before, he’s usually a Hugo Boss guy, which is another of your favourites. You momentarily let your control slip (not for the first time this evening) and imagine what it would be like, to have Bucky’s affections and let happiness bloom inside you, but you stop it as soon as you feel it reaching your face.

Bucky has put so much effort into hiding how he feels, he feels like he’s suffocating right now. He feels something again, like a happiness that he’s never felt before. But it disappeared as quickly as he feels it. The truth is drowning him and he needs to tell you how he feels, the thought actually terrifies him though. What if you reject him? What if you don’t feel the same way?

He needs to talk to Steve, find out how to approach this because he can’t lose you before he’s even had you. The car pulls up to your brownstone and you both get out, his arm around your shoulders as you head up the steps. “I need to go run a quick errand I’ll be back soon, wait up for me?” Bucky asks.

“Of course, baby, I’ll see you when you get back.” You reply with a kiss on the lips, smiling at him as you unlock the door and step inside, closing it behind yourself and leaning against the door with a sigh.

Bucky runs to the bodega on the corner and uses their pay phone, making sure that he’s concealed before dialling.

“Hello…?” Steve answers on the fourth ring, his voice scratchy with sleep.

“How do I tell her? After everything, what do I say?” Bucky’s words are rushed out, not even telling Steve that it’s him.

Steve lets out a sigh. “Buck, just say what you feel. Honestly is the best policy. She needs to know what you feel is real and not because of what you’re both living right now. Open up, I think she will be more open than you expect. I’m going back to sleep now.” Steve hangs up and Bucky is more determined than ever.

He grabs a bottle of wine and some other items so it looks like he had a legit reason to be in the bodega, pays and heads back to your brownstone.

He unlocks the door, you’re not in the living room when he gets back so he quickly takes off the jacket of his tux and goes into the kitchen and puts the items he bought away. Bucky rolls the sleeves of his white shirt up his arms, grabs two glasses and opens the wine then heads upstairs.

You’re in your bedroom, you’ve taken off your dress and are wearing a short black silk robe. He walks in with the wine and goes to speak but the words die in his throat. He takes a deep breath and closes the door, you raise an eyebrow but take one of the wine glasses off of him as he pours the red wine into it. He pours his own, puts the bottle down and takes a big gulp from his glass.

“We need to talk.” The words rush out with his breath.

“About what?” You reply.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky says, looking straight in your eyes. “I act like I don’t trust you because it’s easier than admitting the truth, but the truth is what you deserve so here goes…” You look at him expectantly. Bucky takes another deep breath before he continues. “I like you and I have since we met, and it scared me because I’ve never caught feelings that quickly before. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever caught feelings like I have for you, with anyone. I think I…” he stops himself.

“You think you what?” You nudge.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

You look into his eyes and the cerulean blue shows nothing but sincerity. He means it. He loves you. You contemplate telling him how you feel but actions speak louder than words.

You walk to Bucky, standing in front of him. You lick your lips he looks into your eyes, searching for hesitation and finding none. He reaches out for you, his hand grabs the back of your neck and he pulls you closer. His lips brush yours and your breath hitches in your throat. You look into each others eyes and you wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him closer and planting a firm kiss on his lips.

Your lips feel like they were made to kiss his, they slot together perfectly, like two halves of a whole. He sighs contentedly as your lips open to allow his tongue access, your tongues dance together, caressing each other as your bodies get even closer.

Something snaps in Bucky and he pulls you towards him, walking backwards until he’s against the wall. He spins you around and pushes you against the wall, breaking the kiss and leaving you panting for breath.

“I need you to say that you want this, please say you want this. I can’t bear one more moment without touching you.” Bucky says breathlessly.

“I want it, I want you.” You say and reach out for him again. He kisses you sweetly, pulls back and sinks to his knees. He plants a kiss on the inside of your knee which makes you shudder. “Fuck!” You moan out as his mouth kisses up your thigh, getting closer and closer to your centre. Bucky lifts your robe and groans out loud, noticing that you never replaced the underwear you removed in Vizzini’s office. He grabs your knee and lifts your leg, hooking it over his shoulder and moving his mouth to your mound, licking a stripe from your hole to your clit. “Holy shit!!” You moan out and grab Bucky’s head with one hand and scratching at the wall with the other.

Bucky groans at your taste and begins to practically make out with your pussy, his eyes glassed over as your juices drip down his chin. His uses two fingers on his flesh hand and teases your hole, gathering your slick until he can sink them into you, straight to the knuckle. He’s eating you with such fierce ferocity and fucking you with his fingers so passionately that your orgasm builds quickly. “I’m not gonna last much longer.. I’m gonna…” a long moan escapes your lips as your orgasm washes over you. You shudder and shake, struggling to breathe as you ride the waves of your climax, your cunt pulsating around his fingers.

Bucky’s oral ministrations slow as your orgasm dies down, and your breathing returns to normal. He removes his fingers and your leg from his shoulder, stands and unbuttons his shirt before removing it and using it to wipe his face. He stands there in a white vest, his face flushed and looks at you adoringly. Bucky undoes your robe and lets it fall off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bra. You reach out and undo his pants, pushing them down leaving him in just a pair of black boxers. You can see his erection straining the fabric, you want nothing more than to take what you can tell is an impressive member out of his underwear and show him how good your head game is. Bucky however has other ideas.

“Take off the bra, please. I need to see all of you.” He says, his eyes still glassy. You oblige and he groans out loud, he steps forward and pushes you against the wall again. He takes your left breast in his hand and massages gently, causing you to arch into him. He lowers his head and takes your nipple in his mouth, circling the tight bud with his tongue. Bucky stops and plants a searing kiss on your mouth, it’s sloppy, full of teeth and tongues. He pushes his underwear down as you’re kissing, depriving your view.

You still don’t get a glimpse as he grabs your ass and lifts you, your legs automatically going around his waist as you continue your assault on each others' mouths, it’s like you can’t get enough. Bucky breaks off the kiss as he looks into your eyes, the both of you are heavy breathing already. “Ready?” He asks, you nod. “Words baby.”

“Yes please!” You feel the head of his cock against your entrance, gathering as much of your creamy slick as he can. Before notching inside you, your eyes roll back in your head as he slides into your wet cunt, painstakingly slowly. He wants you to feel every inch, every vein, the way he throbs for you. Once he bottoms out in you, you release the breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Your arms are around Bucky’s shoulders, holding onto him for dear life. You’ve never felt so full, so… complete. There’s a slight sting and burn, you can only assume but there’s a very good chance that he’s big and girthy.

Bucky plants a kiss on your lips before he begins to move, sliding out of you, almost completely before sinking into you again. The air is knocked from your lungs, you feel amazing as his cock slides in and out of you at an agonisingly slow pace. You moan out loud at the sensation.

“Faster!” You groan out, frustrated at how slow he’s fucking you.

“All in good time, I need to feel you.” Bucky moans out, but pretty soon he can’t just revel in the feeling. He needs to move faster, chasing his end. His hips snap up quicker and your moaning increases in volume, that heat in your belly building again with each thrust of his hips.

Bucky takes your mouth again, kissing you with all of him as he fucks into you with abandon. Your moans and tongues intertwined, your heavy breathing entering each others' mouths. Your hands carding through Bucky’s hair, tugging gently on the strands at the nape of his neck. Each time you do it makes his hips thrust harder and makes him grunt. But you have to stop after a minute as the heat blooming in your belly expands more until it can go no further.

It snaps and blooms upward and downward, sending heat to your toes and making you see white. Your climax makes your head roll back and you let out a scream of pleasure. There’s a new sensation as your orgasm hits, the feeling of white-hot heat spreading through him. Happiness, love, every positive feeling ever shoots through him and the spasms of your cunt around his cock, prematurely sets off his orgasm. He has wanted to draw another two or three from you before his end but he can’t hold it back.

He roars out, even the way your climax muffled your hearing you heard him. You’ve never heard anything like that, the sound was primal, animalistic. Your breathing slows and you lower your head to look at him, he’s staring back at you, looking completely fucked out, but so do you.

“You okay baby?” Bucky asks, breathing heavily and pulling your face towards him so he can kiss you. You can’t even speak, you just about nod before he lifts you off the wall and carries you over to the bed. He lays you down and pulls his semi-hard cock out of you, which makes you whine. He goes into your en suite and grabs a washcloth to clean you up, before joining you on the bed. He pulls you close and you snuggle into his warm body, your hand rests on his chest, just above his heart.

Happiness blooms in his chest once more, a content feeling. He realises that you’re projecting onto him with your abilities but you’re too out of it to realise. The feeling is one of pureness, a feeling of love. Bucky realises he has had this feeling before, many times, the first time was the day he met you. He really did feel love at first sight, he didn’t think it was possible but it happened. And now you both knew how the other felt, there’s no way he was going to go back to the way it was. And you’re not leaving SHIELD. Not unless he leaves with you, because from now on, you are one.

THE END?

Posted 23/04/2024

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky smut #ladymunson #Bucky Barnes x female reader #18+ only

[keypaa]

Astrology Observations No.4

<3 TW

I use the whole sign system

Mars-Saturn hard aspects struggle with sexual encounters at first and have a poor relationship with intimicy.They may loose their virginity later than others and that‘s good yk never loose sahahah

Mars in leo/degrees can be known for their drive (that one girl in my class is super intelligent and everyone knows that) Since leo rules fame it makes more than sence✮⋆˙

Moon in cancer (if developed) can talk about that they just cried over an quite little duck running around without being ashamed of pointing out their own vulnerability (ma sweethearts) That is because cancers ruler is moon

Venus in aquarius always have something to do with animes and they live for video games and their friends. Nevertheless you can be their partner but sometimes they put their friends first 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

Mercury in taurus thinkkkk before they talk, might talk slow and come of as seriøs

Wait jupiter in 3rd house just get a lot of money from family members $♡

Venus in 11th house post their favorite things online ( your pets, your playlists…) 💋

4th house in aries: your home environment is wild, full of chaos and passion at the same time ✮⋆˙

Saturn-Pluto: The relationship to your father changed or transformed you. Some people with this placement are not in contact with their father anymore or just see him once in a while

Moon-Jupiter individuals get lucky if they show their emotions (others try to emphasize with them or they get help) also depends on other aspects ☼

Trust me libra mercury knows how to charm others or themselfes out of uncomfy situations with their words

Mercury in aries try to help you through telling you the solution to your problem (you might get mad but they just wanna help) lovely cookies of mine

Lilith-Mc no one believes that you are innocent. Oh you are a virgin,they will assume you have stds because apperently they assume that you fucked around the town and bānged your friend friends their exes and boyfriends/girlfirends plus their grandfather-mothers

Uranus-Venus positive =tip try to work if problems in relationships accure

How Uranus-Venus hard aspects behave= They may jump to the next person and think that working on relationships are not worth it if you have serious problems or if they don‘t see growth quickly. But that doesn't mean that they will leave you just that they do not have time for bullshit

Venus in pisces need a lot of time to recover if they get hurt but they will die for you

Sag moon have the opinion that getting distracted is good (especially with friends,loved ones). These folks don't believe in telling you their feelings that much

Specific but scorpio pluto in leo degree are known for their dark deep feelings and pain

Jupiter in libra generation loves money, some more others less ˗ˏˋ✩ˎˊ˗

Please listen Mercury-Asc people in combinition with Venus tense aspect with Mars, you are not ugly people always talked about your appearence and that makes you always think about how you look. Mercury=thoughts,Asc=Appearence. TW! Body dismorphia can be the case, if so I hug you and advice you to get help¡

Why do aries individuals often have some type of allergy it isn't normal anymore hahaha

TW! Most borderliners have intense aspected moons or gemini, leo or aries moons. Gemini moons have a maze of mind and will overthink everything and then turn into an empty minded person in one split second (typical for BPD), leo moons suffer from people pleasing and having a high opinion of themselfes turn into low low self esteem issues, and them aries moons show their emotions impulsifly or act on them impulsifly. I am not a professional but I am here to make you aware, I observed it in soo many charts, you know best if you show signs! It is more than important to get help :)

Neptune-Asc everyone seems to guess your age differently

Let me know if you would like to have a more dark astro observation next time

Luuuuuv muah

03:02 PM

555

© 2023 the content is subject to the copyright and responsibility of the author

#astrology observations #astro obs #astrology obs #leo moon #gemini moon #aries moon #hot takes #mars aspects #neptune aspects #pick a card #4th house #mercury in taurus #Saturn-pluto aspect #18+ astrology #18+ astrology observations #astro notes #astrovations #dark astrology

[yaksha-lover]

Part 2 to this post (ghost bride competition)

Summary: After the two of you walk in to the semi-formal together, you and Malleus are subject to many stares. While Vil wishes to apologize to you, Malleus decides to have a talk with Leona about the prince’s feelings for you.

Malleus x GN Reader, One-sided Vil and Leona x Reader

You raise a glass to your lips, taking a sip of the suspicious concoction that was supposed to pass as ‘juice’. The semi-formal had been a bit more dull than you thought. Although he tried, Malleus was not one for large social gatherings of this nature, so he preferred to stay at your table, despite Lilia’s encouragements for him to take up a place on the dance floor.

Ace and Deuce remained elusive, running off after only a couple minutes of chatting with you at the beginning, muttering something about helping the committees set up. You wondered if they were hurt you had hidden your relationship with Malleus from them; you hadn’t ever meant to trick them, there was just never a good time. Since they ditched you, there wasn’t much to do but sit at the table, considering most of the students kept a wide breadth from you since you walked in with Malleus.

Even Leona, who would normally chat with you (or rather, tolerate your presence and let you speak to him) had kept a distance from you. You tried to wave at him across the room at one point, but he had only huffed and looked away. Vil hadn’t made such an obvious expression of his feelings toward you tonight, but he kept his smile tight and polite when he greeted you, eyeing Malleus at your side.

You started to reconsider how you had handled things. Was Malleus right? Had they really…been serious about asking you out as their date? It was hard to imagine. Sure, you and Vil had gotten closer after the VDC, but you had assumed he only thought of you as a friend. He also had no lack of options to choose from. With his beauty, fame, and charisma, you know he could have anyone he wanted. Although you were fairly confident in your own appearance, you knew that you must not compare to the other models he brushes shoulders with on a regular basis.

And Leona. The prince hadn’t ever bothered acknowledging that the two of you were friends, let alone any further interest. You knew he didn’t hate you because he wouldn’t immediately tell you to go away when you tried to talk to him, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t an uphill battle. You had been the one to put in all the effort in your friendship, not him. If he’s been interested in you, he is certainly terrible at showing it. You’d sooner believe that he did truly despise you before ever coming to the conclusion that he liked you. It hurt a little to think that perhaps he thought that lowly of you; that he would rather drive you away and forget about his little crush than ever try and let you in.

You can admit to yourself that there was a time when you first met Leona, long before you even formed any kind of friendship with Malleus, that you had a small crush on him. He was a gorgeous prince who had the skills to back up his name. Sure, his attitude was off-putting, but you still naively believed back then that if you were to get closer to him, that he might treat you differently than he did anyone else.

The time that you had longed to be with Leona had long passed. You were happy with Malleus and that would not change, no matter who showed interest in you now. You loved him and he loved you; he had shown you what it was to be cared for and not to be left wanting. Still, the sting that Leona truly would not let anyone close to him remained. You had no desire to earn his love, only his friendship, but even that eluded you.

Your gaze drifts from Leona across the room to Malleus seated beside you as he places his hand on yours. “Are you doing alright, my dear?”

“Yeah. Do you think Leona’s okay?”

He smiles at you gently, but his expression is tainted with something other than happiness. “You are always so worried for others, I wonder if you take any time to care for yourself.”

You turn to face him fully, moving your face closer to his until your foreheads touch. His smile comes a bit more naturally this time. “I think you already do a great job at taking care of me. Better than I could do myself.”

You plant a light and cheeky peck on his lips, before pulling away. Before you can get too far, Malleus pulls you into a hug. His grip is tight, but not uncomfortable. He’s always gentle with you, watching his strength. You wrap your arms around his back, squeezing him tight in return. You can feel the words he can’t say in his touch.

“I love you,” he murmurs quietly into your ear.

“I love you too,” you reply.

After you pull apart, a few minutes of gentle conversation passes before Malleus is pulled into a conversation with Lilia and Silver over something Diasomnia related. You’re too restless to keep track of the conversation, so you watch the dance floor, staring at all the people chatting with their friends or dancing together. You snap out of your thoughts when a certain blond begins heading in your direction.

Vil approaches your table. Malleus’ conversation ends as he nears. “Hello, Malleus. Lilia.” He turns to you, “Prefect, may I ask you for a dance?”

You meet his purple eyes. He looks beautiful tonight, makeup striking and a dashing suit to accompany his charming looks. You make eye contact with Malleus, and he nods, letting you know that it’s your choice.

“Okay.” Your reply seems to let Vil relax a little, the tension in his shoulders releasing as you stand up.

“I’ll be back soon, Mal.” You plant a kiss on your boyfriend’s cheek, in case he has any doubts about your overwhelming love for him. The display is a bit embarrassing in front of Vil, but he isn’t your priority at the moment.

Finally, the two of you make your way to the dance floor.

-

While you’re away dancing with Vil, Malleus finds Leona, still sulking in the corner and watching the two of you.

“Still upset over the prefect, Kingscholar?”

“Fuck off, lizard. It was just a stupid competition with a dumb little herbivore.”

“Watch yourself. You are speaking to their boyfriend, after all. And I like to believe we understand each other better than that. I know you liked them.”

“So what? You here to scare me away?” Leona glares at him.

“No, I only wish to talk,” Malleus replies calmly.

“Why?”

“The two of us are more similar than we often care to admit.”

“Us both being princes doesn’t make us ‘similar,’ Draconia.”

“Deny it if you wish, but our affection for the prefect is not the only thing we share.”

Leona rolls his eyes. “Get to your point.”

“I want to make my beloved happy. For that to happen, I wish for you to be their friend.”

“Their friend?” Leona furrows his brows in confusion. “You still want me around them?…And if I say I won’t just give them up to you?”

Malleus matches his sharp gaze, unbothered. “They do not belong to anybody but themself. You’d do well to remember that, Leona. There’s no need for me to threaten you because I have full trust in them. But I know that they will miss you, if you begin to pull away. The distance you keep…I will give you a fair warning. The prefect wishes to have you as a friend, but do not test their boundaries.”

“Whatever.” Leona’s eyes fix on you and Vil, swaying together.

“It seems Schoenheit has made his choice,” Malleus remarks, eyes following the direction of Leona’s gaze. “I ask you to remain their friend, in spite of what I may desire, because my greatest wish is to see them happy. Do it for them or do it for yourself, it does not matter to me.”

Leona sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. He looks up at Malleus and finally gives a small nod. “The two of you are more trouble than you’re worth,” he says, but his words hold no bite or harsh edge to them.

The corner of Malleus’ lips twitch up in a smile.

-

“I am sorry, you know,” Vil says. His arms hang loosely around your back, as though he is afraid to touch you. The two of you sway together, but the distance between you makes the movement a bit awkward.

“I know,” you say. Your hands touch his shoulders as you dance, but it’s hard to want to get too much closer.

“I messed up.”

“I know.”

He manages to keep his face from giving away too much of what he’s thinking. You don’t want to come out and ask him; he’s the one who asked you to dance.

“I liked you- like you. Of course, I’m loathe to admit it now. I have more than enough decency to not try and get with someone taken.” He looks down at you, taking your hand off his shoulder and holding it in his own as the pace of the music begins to change. He pulls you into a sweeping dance, keeping one hand on your back. “But you had to know. I would never have intentionally tried to make light of your feelings. Never.”

“I believe you. But that doesn’t change my feelings for Malleus.”

“I know. I would never ask you to. I only asked you to dance so I could apologize, not ask for anything more than the chance to do so. Also, to warn you that being with Malleus will probably not end Rook’s pursuits. In fact, I fear he may wish to court both of you, now.”

You look over at Vil’s table and spot Rook and Epel watching the two of you. Rook gives a small wave, not shying away when he notices your gaze. You shudder. “Duly noted. I just don’t understand…why did you not saying anything before? You never even hinted that you liked me as more than a friend.”

“I thought I was being obvious. Kissing your cheek, lending you my makeup…”

“Oh. I kinda thought you did that with everyone…But still, why me? You know anyone at the school would’ve accepted an invitation to attend as your date.”

Vil sighs gently, smiling in spite of himself when he looks down at you. “I mean this in the kindest way possible, but are you truly that dull? Your boyfriend is Malleus Draconia, and yet you wonder if you are anything special. Of course you are.”

Your face heats a bit under his gaze. “Ugh, don’t say embarrassing things like that. I’m nothing compared to you guys.”

You wince when Vil flicks your forehead gently, looking up at him in annoyance. “It seems we’ll have to work on your confidence issues. You can’t rule Briar Valley alongside Malleus with that attitude.” Vil winks at you. “Now run along to your prince.” He catches your wrist as you turn to head back to your table. “And if Draconia does anything to hurt you, I best be the first to know. I may not be as strong as he is, but I won’t stand for the mistreatment of my friend.”

You smile at Vil, genuine this time. “Thanks, but you know Malleus would never.”

Vil doesn’t reply, only watching in silence as you walk back.

#no more goofs only feels #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus draconia x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #malleus draconia #leona kingscholar #vil schoenheit #ace trappola #deuce spade #rook hunt #twst #twisted wonderland

[jjmaybankshousekeeping]

clingy - jj maybank

summary - jj and his girlfriend got into a huge argument. sometimes he needed space, but she couldn’t seem to grasp the idea of it at all.

warnings - mentions of trauma?, mentions of arguing, angst, crying, mentions of panic attacks. i think that’s it; lmk if there’s more.

a/n - this is bad. you were warned.

word counter - 563

post number - 5

reader - she/her, fem

they couldn’t even be around each other for longer than five minutes at the moment. yn thought it was the end of their relationship.

that’s how it usually went in her life.

all of her mums ex’s would break up with her after a big argument, just how they did with her aunt, just how yn’s ex’s did too. safe to say she never had a healthy relationship.

with these kinds of thoughts, yn was quick to gather jj’s belongings for him, not wanting to make their situation worse.

she collected his hair products, surfboard wax, hoodies, clothes, cd’s, any other bits and bobs of jj’s she could find and neatly shoved it all into a box.

she noticed something that also belonged to jj. the tickets from the first movie they went to. he paid for them, so they were his, right? but surely he wouldn’t want them. it finally clicked in yn’s head how many memories she was throwing away by giving his stuff back, but she knew she had to if they broke up. she held the tickets in her hand, looking at them with heartbreak in her eyes.

a tear slowly strolled down her face. not again. please not again, she begged. no more panic attacks. she had one already, picking up the hoodie of jj’s that she slept in every night. she managed to control her breaths, and quickly get herself together. she knew this had to happen.

she was quick to hop onto her motercycle and make her way to jj’s home.

she took a deep breath before building the courage to knock on the door. she got a quick, harsh response, with the door angrily flying open.

the man at the door rubbed his forehead, squinting his eyes in frustration, not even looking at who was there, “what do you want?”

“just to give your stuff back.” yn said softly.

jj looked up, “why?”

“cause we’re breaking up?” she hesitated, wondering why he was confused.

his jaw dropped slightly, “are you serious? i accidentally spilt ketchup on your dads old sweater and you’re breaking up with me? i get you’re mad; but it was an accident. why would i purposely spill ketchup on a dead man’s sweater? i’m not that fucked in the head.” the blonde went on a rant.

“what are you talking about? i don’t want this to happen, this is how it goes though.”

jj pulled yn inside, gently by the wrists, and sat her down on the couch.

“this is how what goes, babe?” he spoke softer, starting to understand what was happening.

“you argue, then you break up, then you go again, and again.”

he smiled, softly, “no, darling. no.”

“what?”

“that’s not what happens. you argue, you have time to think, then you talk, maybe someone apologises, then you let go, and pretend nothing happened. we don’t need to break up sweetheart.”

“really?”

“of course.”

she sighed, a sigh of relief, as she fell forwards into jj’s chests, a few tears sliding from her waterline, “thank goodness. my mum has really taught me wrong.”

“and all the other douche bags you’ve dated.”

“yeah.” yn chuckled.

“wait, when did you get this hoodie?” jj spotted, finding his old hoodie that went missing nearly a year ago, that he never found.

“never mind that, we’re okay again!” yn cheered, changing the subject.

#jjmaybankshousekeeping #obx #jj maybank #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank gifs #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank angst #jjmaybank #obx jj #jj obx #jj x reader #jj mayback x reader #the obx #obx angst #obxangst #outer banks #outer banks angst #the outer banks angst #the obx angst

[tommys-evan]

Taking him home

[ post 07x06, general audience, tw: buck's parents don’t approve but who knows whether that's homo/biphobia or just their usual buckphobia ]

Not long after the wedding party had cake, the hospital staff kicks out everyone who is not Chimney's immediate family.

Buck hugs Maddie tightly. "Do you want me to wait outside for you?" He mumbles into her long, brown hair.

Maddie smiles. "Thank you, but I'll be alright," she replies, "You go home with your hot-ass pilot."

He actually giggles softly. Maddie looks at him, in surprise. She has never heard him giggle like that before. Before she can say anything, Buck's face gets serious again.

"I'm glad this day ended the way it did," Buck says with a sincere smile on his face.

"Me two, Buck," Maddie sighs and goes in for another tight hug, "Me too."

She looks at Tommy who just said good-bye to Chimney and is now coming up to stand closely next to Buck. "Are you staying?" He softly asks Buck.

"No, he's not," Maddie answers for her little brother and grins up at the man who is even taller than Buck himself, "Take him home, Tommy."

Tommy nods. "Happily," he smiles and looks at Buck. For the fracture of a second, hunger flashes over his face but he quickly schools his expression. Buck saw it, though, and he revels in it. He cannot wait.

While Tommy hugs Maddie goodbye, Buck's mother appears right in front of Buck. Her facial expression is controlled but it is evident to both of her children that she has quite a lot to say.

"Can we talk?" Margaret asks, looking at Buck before she shoots Tommy an openly disdainful look. "In private."

"There’s no need to talk, mom," Buck says faking nonchalance.

Maddie eyes the scene for the fracture of a second, before she pats Tommy's arm, and quietly whispers, "Better take him outside right now if you want to enjoy the rest of the night."

Tommy doesn’t have to be told twice.

"Nice to meet you, Mr and Mrs Buckley," he intervenes and introduces himself shortly but politely, "I don’t mean to be rude but the hospital staff wanted us out of the room about five minutes ago and to be frank, I really need a shower." Without missing a beat, he turns to Buck, "Ready to go?"

He offers a hand. Buck takes it in his and follows his lead without hesitation.

"Buck," Margaret hisses, but by the time his name leaves her lips, her son is already guided halfway out of the room by his boyfriend.

"Was that okay?" Tommy asks quietly once they are outside in the hallway.

"More than okay," Buck lets out a breath and tucks himself safely against Tommy's side.

Tommy eyes him curiously. "Did your mom just call you 'Buck'?" He asks as he pulls Buck closer.

Buck chuckles drily. "Yeah, I hate when my parents call me 'Evan'."

Tommy stops short and looks at him in shock. "I call you 'Evan' all the time!"

Buck smiles and nods. "I know," he says softly and gently pats Tommy's arm, "And I love it." Then he changes the subject. "Your place or mine? Or... you know, separate ways... I could call you an Uber."

Tommy shakes his head. "Back to the station first to get my stuff and then my place? Only if you want to, of course."

Buck wants to, of course.

When they finally turn to leave for good, Buck meets Bobby's eyes from across the hallway. There is a proud smile on Bobby's face as he sends them an approving nod. That is, in fact, all Buck needs.

#911 abc #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #tevan #kinley #bab writes

[fisheshavegill]

, 「 ✦ CRA ✦ 」 Crazy Rich Asians

: pairing: sunghoon! fem reader! | slight heeseung!fem reader

warnings: cursing, slight suggestive, mentions of @ buse , slight violence? lmk what i missed

a/u note: Pinch me, because I'm about to hit 'post' on something I thought would take me eons to finish. But look at us now, defying all odds and deadlines 😜🤌

!! No proofreads on this one, so if there's anything wrong with the grammar or anything else, I apologize. !!

wc: 10.5k

Picture this: You're at a dining table by the pool, feeling like VIPs under a warm little roof. You and your partner, brought together by one of life's rarest miracles - a shared breakfast! This morning it seems that all the planets are in line and all the stars are aligned just for you two. and your schedules finally decided to stop playing hard to get. But heyyyy?? Who knew dining together could feel like winning the lottery?

“I’ve been starving my whole entire life,” Sunghoon sighed dramatically, eyeing the spread of delicious food like a kid in a candy store.

“Don’t you eat?” you teased, raising an eyebrow in mock concern.

“Well, my schedule doesn’t occupy any meals whatsoever,” Sunghoon replied with a hint of resignation, grabbing his utensils with a flourish. “Besides, the only thing my body digests is caffeine whenever I am in the office,” he added, raising his cup of coffee in a toast to his perpetual fuel source.

“Ah, the breakfast of champions,” you remarked with a grin. “But seriously, you should consider nourishing your body with something more substantial.” Sunghoon grinned back. “Perhaps I should.”

“Just don't let your ambitions eat you alive. Remember, even beasts need sustenance.”

"Wow, are you joking?" he countered, a playful glimmer dancing in his eyes as he curled an eyebrow in mock disbelief.

"Joke? Kill the thought,” you replied with a chuckle, shaking your head at the playful banter.

"You're toying with me, aren’t you?" he persisted, his tone shifting to one of mock seriousness as he mirrored your laughter.

“Well….”

“How’s  business going?” you asked, smoothly changing the subject as your fingers traced the rim of your glass, ready to delve into more serious conversation amidst the morning laughter.

“Um…” he squinted his eyes for a good two seconds.

“I've been meticulously examining our business strategies, and it's become apparent that we need to fine-tune our approach to stay ahead of the curve.”  

You nod, taking a sip of your water,  “Especially with the new product launch coming up” he adds  “It's all about adaptability and seizing opportunities as they arise. Speaking of which….”   

“Go on” 

“Well you know, things like expanding product lines or exploring new markets. But also…..other personal milestones.” 

“Personal milestones?”  you ask 

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, the clinking of cutlery the only sound in the room. He raised his eyebrows as he was hesitant to speak. 

“ I was thinking more along the lines of…..having someone to continue the legacy in the near future”  There was again silence that filled the atmosphere, a much intense one. “Don’t you think that's a bit too soon?” you chuckle at him. 

“Yeah….yeah, let's take our time with this. No rush” he pats your shoulder, A small yet uneasy smile to kill off the moment of whatever was that. 

“I was also thinking about grandma this morning” he says as the breakfast continued “Is everything alright with her?” you replied as he takes a sip of his coffee 

“Well, she’s still in bed. I spoke with my mom yesterday, and she mentioned that grandma's feeling lonely” 

“I thought maybe we could see her this afternoon, after I finish up some business papers.” he added as you smile at him 

"Perhaps we could swing by the florist on our way and grab a lovely bouquet of her favorite roses" he suggested eagerly, catching your nod of agreement. The sense of excitement in his voice, enthusiasm shining through. While he tended to be talkative, it was when his adrenaline kicked in that his thoughts spilled out most freely. 

Inside a charming flower shop filled with an array of vibrant blooms. You and Sunghoon, stand not so near the counter, eagerly awaiting the completion of a floral arrangement.

“Look at all these stunning arrangements..I can't decide which one your granny would like best.” You say as you took a picture of the flowers 

“She always appreciates anything with roses.  They remind her of her garden back home.” Hoon smiles as he touches one of the rose petals. 

Waiting in line took a very long time as the flower shop was filled with a lot of customers today. “What if I pop over and grab some cinnamon rolls for your granny?”  

“Where?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. 

You point at the bakery shop just in front of the flower shop. “Sure, go ahead, I’ll keep looking for flowers for the arrangement.”

You stepped into the cozy bakery, the aroma of freshly baked cinnamon rolls enveloping you in warmth. Your eyes were enough to dance over the array of treats on display, finally settling on a dozen of the irresistible pastries. 

Making your way to the line was easy since it wasn’t occupied that much, though your attention was drawn to someone familiar—a figure in a black hoodie, blue jeans, and a beanie, with his face partially obscured. 

"Heeseung? Hi there!" you called out, waving at him with a smile. It took a moment, but, well, recognition dawned on his face, and he returned your greeting with a grin.

"Y/N. “

“It's been ages. How have you been?" Heeseung exclaimed. You closed the distance between you and Heeseung. "I've been good, thank you. Just here to pick up some cinnamon rolls for Hoon’s grandma. How about you?"

Heeseung's smile widened. "I've been busy with work, but things are going well. Thanks for asking."

 “We should definitely catch up sometime," you suggested.  As you chatted, it struck you how much Heeseung had transformed. Gone were the days of boyish charm; now, he exuded the confidence of a man who's survived one too many group projects. His eyes held a glint of wisdom, or perhaps it was just the reflection of his newfound love for Sudoku puzzles. But fear not, underneath that veneer of maturity, he was still the same old Heeseung, a buddy whose loyalty could rival that of a golden retriever—just with fewer tail wags and more inside jokes.

The bakery is eerily quiet now, with just you and Heeseung left amidst the faint scent of cinnamon. You glance at your watch, only to realize you've become a time traveler, lost in the tantalizing vortex of pastry-induced euphoria.

"Oh, I completely forgot about the flowers for Hoon's grandma" you exclaimed, a twinge of guilt creeping into your voice.

Heeseung chuckled softly, his warm eyes reflecting genuine understanding. "Don't worry about it," he reassured, his voice carrying a comforting tone. "I'm sure Hoon will understand. Besides, it was really nice catching up with you." He nudges the door open.

You shared one last smile outside the bakery before hastily grabbing a box of cinnamon rolls and rushing out of the bakery, mentally berating yourself for being so distracted. As you dashed across the street to the flower shop, you noticed Sunghoon standing by the window, his arms crossed and a bemused expression on his face.

Forget it, you were oblivious that Sunghoon was giving glares on the window of the flower shop.  "Running late, huh?" Sunghoon teased as you entered the flower shop, a playful grin on his lips.

You shot him an apologetic look while setting the box of cinnamon rolls down on the counter. "Sorry, Sunghoon. Time just got away from me. But I come bearing treats."

Sunghoon's eyes lit up at the sight of the cinnamon rolls. "Ah, you're forgiven then. But you owe me something for making me wait." You chuckled, knowing he was only half-serious. "Deal. So, what flowers are we getting for Grandma today?"

Sunghoon leaned in closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Well, Grandma loves those white roses we got last time, but I was thinking we could add some baby breaths this time. Mix it up a bit, you know?"

"Sounds perfect”

You and Sunghoon make your way to his grandmother's room, with you shouldering the box of cinnamon rolls, their sweet scent wafting through the hallway, while Sunghoon gracefully carries the flower bouquet. 

Entering the room, his grandmother is in conversation with a bedside nurse, discussing her medications. Sunghoon sets his coat down on the couch before approaching her with a warm smile. "Halmeoni, How are you feeling today?" he asks, his concern evident in his tone.

You follow suit, offering a gentle hug as you greet her, "Hi, halmeoni! We've missed you."  eyes light up in your presence. 

"And I've missed you two. It's been too long since you last visited."

"We brought you some flowers and a box of cinnamon rolls to lighten up the mood," you mention, presenting the treats with a flourish. "Oh, bless you, dear. You always think of everything,".  Turning the conversation to entertainment, Sunghoon suggests bringing her some DVDs, to which she declines, mentioning the hospital TV. 

As the conversation flows, Sunghoon inquires about her health, “So, how have you been feeling overall? Any improvement?” he asks “Oh, you know, ups and downs. But I'm staying positive.” 

His grandmother's gaze shifts to you, her expression curious yet caring. "You know, dear, you've been looking a bit different lately. Are you feeling alright?" she asks, her concern evident in her tone.

"Oh, well, Grandma, that's very kind of you to say. Maybe it's just the lighting in here," you respond, pointing at the windows that are no longer covered with curtains.

There's an awkward silence as his grandma continues to look at you, her expression unreadable. Sunghoon clears his throat, "Grandma, do you need anything else while we're here? Magazines, maybe some snacks?" 

She shakes her head, "No, I'm fine for now. Just having you two here is enough to lift my spirits," she says, looking at both of you with warmth in her eyes.

_

"Hey, how about we grab a cup of coffee?" Sunghoon suggests a faint smile playing on his lips. "I could really use a breather after all that catching up," he adds, gently closing the door behind him. The conversation with his grandma was cut short since it was her time for sleep medications. 

“I think I'll pass on the coffee. You seem like you've already had enough caffeine for the both of us." you chuckle lightly, gesturing to the slight jitteriness in Sunghoon's movements. 

Sunghoon blinks,  "Yeah, you might be right," feeling the residual effects of his earlier espresso shot he took as he does his business papers. "Maybe we can just take a walk instead? Clear our heads a bit." 

“A stroll in the park with my favorite person.” Sunghoon  grins as he looks at you.  “Flattery will get you everywhere, you know.” you nudge him  “Hey, it's not flattery if it's true” he says as he avoids your nudging. 

“The flowers we gave to my grandma reminds me of that bouquet I got you on our 4th anniversary.”   “Good thing you noticed” you smile fondly. “Though, you know you don't have to wait for special occasions to bring me flowers, right?” you teased him. 

“Duly noted Babe. I'll keep that in mind for next time.” He grins sheepishly 

It was a warm spring afternoon, and the park was alive with families and laughter. But for you and him, Well. Maybe it was a moment of reflection. 

Since nothing lingered in the air between the two of you but subtle tensions.

Believe me, Sunghoon, normally pragmatic and level-headed, found himself swept away by the notion of parenthood ever since both of you got married, however he couldn’t really bring that up since he felt you despised it. 

As both of you wandered through the park, the sight of families enjoying their time together stirred a longing within him. Watching couples with baby strollers pass by, he could feel a sense of yearning for what could be.

“Our future, huh? You're getting ahead of yourself, aren't you?” you said. “Imagining us with a little one of our own someday, it's a pretty nice thought.” he grins 

“Alright, alright, let's not get carried away just yet. We have plenty of time for that.” you say as you playfully roll your eyes. “Fair enough,” he chuckles. “But admit it you’ve thought about it too, right?” he ask, looking into your eyes for any sort of approval;. 

“Well, whenever the time comes, I know we'll make great parents.” he squeezes your hand. You smile at him as he lean your head to his shoulder.

You're quite committed when it comes to keeping promises, aren't you? So, about catching up with Heeseung yesterday... Wasn't exactly a meticulously planned rendezvous, but you figured out that  meeting over coffee would be rather effortless, especially since it's on your tab.

Settling into the cozy café chair, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee fills the air, and you glance at your watch once more. Heeseung was running a bit late, but you didn't mind. It gave you a chance to soak in the ambiance of the quaint café and anticipate catching up with an old friend.

Just as you start to wonder if he forgot about your meeting, the door swings open, and Heeseung strides in with his trademark smile. "Sorry I'm late," he says with a sheepish grin, sliding into the chair opposite you. "Traffic was insane."

You wave off his apology with a chuckle. "No worries. I was enjoying the people-watching anyway." Heeseung glances around the café, taking in the cozy atmosphere. "Nice choice of venue. It's been ages since I've been here."

"Yeah, I thought it'd be a good spot for a relaxed chat," you reply, flagging down a waiter to order some drinks.As you wait for your orders to arrive, Heeseung leans forward, a curious glint in his eyes. "So, what's been going on with you lately? Any exciting updates?"

Launching into a lively recount of recent events in your life. Heeseung listens attentively, interjecting with questions and anecdotes of his own. After a while, the conversation shifts to reminiscing about old times. You both share a laugh over embarrassing high school stories and nostalgic memories of your college days.

"You remember that road trip we took senior year?" Heeseung says, a nostalgic smile playing on his lips. "That was one for the books. ""Definitely," you reply with a grin. "Getting lost in the middle of nowhere and surviving on gas station snacks for hours. Good times." He sighs. 

The waiter arrives with your drinks, and you both take a moment to savor the rich aroma of the freshly brewed coffee before diving back into conversation.

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask," he begins tentatively, "how's Sunghoon? Last I heard, he was doing pretty well." You pause for a moment, surprised by the sudden mention of your husband. Sunghoon and Heeseung had been classmates in high school, but they weren't particularly close. But Heeseung  was probably the reason why you both met since he invited you to a party, the rest was history. 

"Oh, Sunghoon's doing great, thanks for asking," you reply with a warm smile. "He's been busy with work lately, but he's doing what he loves, so he doesn't mind the long hours." Heeseung nods, his. "That's good to hear.” 

You chuckle softly “He's definitely driven, that's for sure. Sometimes I have to remind him to take a break and….” you trail off, and there was silence grown between the two of you

"Do you have a girlfriend?" You blurted out, instantly regretting it as if your mouth had been caffeinated with a shot of espresso and a splash of tequila.

Heeseung's eyes widened ever so slightly at the unexpected inquiry, but he couldn't help but chuckle. "Nope, no girlfriend on the horizon. Too busy juggling work and, well, trying not to burn down the kitchen every time I attempt to cook."

You both shared a laugh, the awkwardness of the moment dissipating like morning fog under the warm rays of a comedic sunrise.

You nod, relieved at his casual response. "Sorry for saying that out of the blue” you say  “But you never know when someone might come along and sweep you off your feet.” you add, as Heeseung grins, shaking his head. "Yeah, maybe someday. For now, I'm just enjoying the single life."  You chuckle at him. 

Eventually, the café begins to empty out, and the waiter discreetly clears away the last of the dishes.  "Well, I guess we should probably head out," you say reluctantly, gathering your belongings.

Heeseung nods, a hint of reluctance in his expression. "Yeah, I suppose so. But hey, let's not leave it so long until the next time we catch up, okay?"

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through you at the thought of reconnecting with Heeseung more regularly. "Definitely. And who knows? Maybe next time, you'll have some exciting dating stories to share."

Heeseung chuckles, throwing an arm around your shoulder as you make your way out of the café. "Yeah, maybe. Thanks for the chat, though. It was really great catching up."

As you step into the grand foyer of the mansion, the tranquil air is gently stirred by the soft melody of a jazz tune, dim lights, with a scent of lavish lavender spreading throughout the whole place. 

"Well, well, look who decided to grace us with her presence," a familiar voice calls out, drawing your attention.

It's Sunghoon, standing regally on the first-floor landing, clad in a luxurious robe with a book in hand. Won't deny, won't lie. You were weirdly checking him out. . His gaze meets yours as he descends the staircase which drives you terrifically insane. The robe was barely covering some parts of his chest, his collarbone exposed. 

 "Y/N, where did you disappear to? You didn't even leave a note," he chides with a playful smirk. 

You offer a sheepish smile, shrugging slightly. "Oh, Sunghoon, don't be so dramatic," you retort, taking a few steps closer to him, your heels clicking lightly on the marble floor. "I just popped out for a caffeine fix with an old friend. Didn't want to disturb your intense battle with the stock market." 

He chuckles softly, his eyes sparkle with amusement as he crosses his arms, you could see his veins. 

 "You know me too well, love," he concedes, beginning to descend the rest of the stairs. "But next time, a little heads-up wouldn't hurt. I was starting to think you flirted with the barista."  

"Are you kidding me?" you scoff incredulously, a playful glint in your eye as you meet his gaze. you graze your hand on his chest. You slightly tilted your head as laughter bubbles up between you, filling the foyer with warmth and light. You give a peck on his lips. 

Enough flirtatious session, wouldn't it be delightful to conclude the day by unwinding with a nightcap in the study room? 

Picture it: the warm glow of the fireplace casting a cozy ambiance. 

Sunghoon gestures for you to take a seat on the plush sofa, while he pours both of you  a glass of fine whiskey from the crystal decanter. “So, about our plans for the following weeks…” 

You settle comfortably into the sofa, raising an eyebrow inquisitively as you take the glass from him. “What plans are those, dear? You're not plotting to whisk me away on another surprise adventure, are you?” 

He chuckles, shaking his head as he takes a seat beside you,  moreover getting a perfect angle of his side view. “Not quite, my love. Actually, we've been invited to my cousin's wedding.”

“Remember Sakura? She's finally tying the knot” 

The news was absolutely spontaneous and here's the kicker - he’s been asked to be the best man.  Their wedding preparation  had been announced a few months back, but if it wasn’t for his busy schedules alongside tons of business trips, he wouldn’t be so damned “oblivious” about it. 

 “Just slipped my mind amidst the chaos of work and other commitments. But don't worry, Y/N, we have a lot of time to get everything sorted.” he says, planting a light kiss on your lips “I'll have to work on my best man duties from now on." Sunghoon replied, taking a sip of his drink.  You chuckled softly, however  you knew deep inside without any doubts that he’ll not do it any splendidly. 

But who knows? maybe a sense of anticipation swirled for him,  Perhaps tinged with excitement for the upcoming celebration.. Whatever that was,  He's acting like being the best man is some kind of reunion with his "loved ones." Like, please, spare yourself the sentimental crap.

First week of wedding preparation. Everything started to get more tense than usual, talk about the dress fittings first of all? Good thing you were close with one of the bridesmaids. Yeah, the one that Sunghoon specified as “the most angel-like” out of all of his cousins? Chaewon. 

Sakura’s  attention was pulled in every direction, leaving Chaewon and you to your own devices. Leaning against the wall, both of you exchanged commiserating glances, silently plotting an escape from the dresses.

"I can't believe we have to wear these in front of everyone," Chaewon muttered under her breath. You  nodded sympathetically. "I know, but what choice do we have? It's for Sakura’s big day." Chaewon sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I just hope we don't trip over these ridiculous skirts."

A mischievous grin tugged at your lips. "Well, if we do, at least we'll go down together." We shared a laugh.

As the bridesmaid’s fittings came to an end, Sakura approached both of you  with a hopeful expression. "So, what do you think? Are you ready to rock those dresses?"

 Chaewon and you exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between both of you . With a shared nod, you both turned to Sakura, plastering on your most convincing smiles.

"We can't wait to strut our stuff down the aisle." Sakura’s face lit up with delight, her excitement contagious. "That's what I like to hear! Thank you both so much for being a part of my special day."

Though the road ahead might be filled with questionable fashion choices and inevitable mishaps. And who knows? Maybe, just maybe, both of you would even learn to love those dreaded bridesmaid dresses along the way. 

The plush surroundings of the fancy restaurant provided a luxurious backdrop as Sunghoon and you settled into our seats, the clinking of cutlery and murmur of conversation filling the air.

"So, how was your day, Sunghoon?" I asked, my voice warm with genuine interest.He sighed, running a hand through his hair with a weary expression.  "Busy, as always. Finalizing the details for the bachelor party and dealing with work stuff. You know how it is."

I nodded sympathetically, squeezing his hand in understanding. "Sounds like a handful. Well, hopefully, dinner will be a chance for us to unwind."

As both of you perused the menu, the conversation naturally turned to Sakura's upcoming wedding, a topic that had been on both of your minds lately. With Sunghoon being the best man and me a bridesmaid, the dress fittings were a common concern.

"So, about Sakura's wedding," Sunghoon began, his tone thoughtful. "Have you heard anything about the dress fittings?"

 I sighed, setting down the menu with a slight frown. "Unfortunately, yes. It seems there's been a bit of a snag."

Sunghoon's eyebrows furrowed in concern. "What happened?" I leaned in closer, lowering my voice to a whisper. "Well, let's just say the bridesmaid dresses are a bit too much"

He groaned, running a hand through his hair. 

"You're kidding. What's wrong with them?"   

I grimaced, recalling the ill-fitting gown from earlier in the day. "They're... less than flattering. Chaewon and I practically had to wrestle ourselves into them."

Sunghoon shook his head in disbelief. "This wedding seems to be one hurdle after another. First, the venue mix-up, and now this."

I nodded in agreement, my frustration mounting. "Tell me about it. I just hope Sakura doesn't have a massive breakdown before the big day." 

The evening ends with Sunghoon hoping that both of you would survive the wedding without any major disasters. 

Time seemed to slip through your fingers like sand, and before you knew it, you were only a week away from the big day. The countdown to Sakura's wedding was on, and the days seemed to blend together in a whirlwind of excitement and anticipation. Amidst the flurry of last-minute preparations, there were countless festivities planned by both the bride and groom, each event adding to the mounting excitement leading up to the main event.

While some of these festivities were optional for you to go to, for Sunghoon, as the best man, attendance was practically mandatory. He found himself side-handling all the arrangements and logistics, ensuring that everything went off without a hitch. From coordinating transportation to managing guest lists, Sunghoon was the epitome of efficiency. 

For Sunghoon, these moments often came in the form of late-night visits to home.  It became somewhat of a ritual – Sunghoon would arrive, weary and worn, the weight of his responsibilities etched into every line of his face.  

Sunghoon stumbled through the doorway with a stumble and a hiccup, the unmistakable scent of alcohol trailing behind him like a mischievous shadow.

You stood in the kitchen, arms crossed and a disapproving frown etched upon your features. "Oh, look who decided to grace us with his presence. I see the festivities were a smashing success." you smile sarcastically.

"Ah, don't be like that, Y/N," he slurred, waving a hand dismissively. "I'm just embracing my duties as the best man."

You rolled her eyes, accustomed to your husband's antics after years of marriage. "Yes, because stumbling in at the crack of dawn smelling like a brewery is definitely the mark of a responsible best man," you retorted, your tone teasing.

Sunghoon grinned, reaching out to grab your hand as you  passed by. "Hey now, don't act like you're not impressed by my dedication," he quipped, his words slightly slurred. "Besides, you knew what you were getting into when you married me. I'm a wild card, babe."

You chuckled, swatting his hand away gently before returning to your phone. "Ah yes a wild card, who is out there making out with random girls instead of just celebrating with your friends." you tease him. 

Sunghoon gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "How could you accuse me of such a thing, my dear? I am a loyal and devoted husband!" You laughed, playfully swatting his arm. "Oh please, spare me the theatrics. I know you're just a big softie who can't handle his liquor."

Sunghoon grinned, pulling you into a hug. "Well, I may be a big softie, but I'm your big softie." You rolled her eyes, returning the hug. "Yes, and I wouldn't have it any other way."

He made a mental note to apologize to you  properly once he was sober enough to form those “coherent” sentences. But for now, he was content to bask in your warmth  knowing that no matter how wild the night before had been, he always had you by his side to keep him grounded. EAJKHDAJHDAKJDHA

 It's like being caught in a whirlwind of confetti and chaos. On one hand, you have the bachelorette party, a guaranteed recipe for chaos and questionable decisions. It's like herding cats through a glitter factory—utterly entertaining, yet slightly concerning for your sanity.

And then, there's the Family Party, where drama flows as freely as the drinks. It's like a real-life soap opera, complete with long-lost relatives and enough gossip to power a small town. You're not sure whether to bring popcorn or a crash helmet, but either way, it's bound to be a rollercoaster ride of awkward conversations and embarrassing anecdotes.

You're not entirely sure if you've ever been to the family party before, or if it's just a folklore passed down through generations like the tale of your aunt’s missing dentures. It's like trying to remember the lyrics to a song you've only heard once in a dream—faintly familiar, but mostly a mystery.

But hey, who needs a memory when you have a survival kit packed with snacks and a fake smile sharp enough to slice through the tension? Whether you're a seasoned veteran or a first-time explorer of this familial jungle, one thing's for sure: you're in for a wild ride, complete with awkward encounters and enough passive-aggressive comments to fuel a small country's worth of therapists. Let the festivities commence... or is it… survive?

A few FEW YEARS back (flashback) !!! (feel free to skip lol) 

This heightened attention was not solely a product of chance. In the bustling metropolis of New York, a chance encounter with Charlotte Kim, a figure of notable pedigree and social standing, had unwittingly propelled you into the realm of public scrutiny. Charlotte, once a companion of Sunghoon Park during their university days, captured a candid  between you and Sunghoon during a cozy café rendezvous, with the click of her camera.

As the photograph circulated among acquaintances and acquaintances of acquaintances, it served as fodder for speculation and gossip. "No ring?" ventured a curious girl , casting a subtle glance at your bare fingers. "No ring," she affirmed, her response echoing with a quiet confidence that belied the curiosity that surrounded her.

It wasn't long before whispers of Sunghoon's impending return to Korea with a mysterious girl began to permeate the social stratosphere. 

-

In the opulent halls of his mother's ancestral mansion, the air carried the weight of tradition, mingled with the faint scent of aged oak and polished silver. As the evening sun cast long shadows through the antique lace curtains, the family gathered for an elegant dinner, each member donning their best "pretending to like each other" attire.

As the evening progressed, conversation flowed freely, punctuated by the clink of fine crystal and the soft rustle of silk. Sunghoon’s uncles pontificate about politics, waving their fork like a seasoned politician making empty promises, while his aunties critiqued the latest art trends with the fervor of a Renaissance art critic stuck in the wrong century.

Yet beneath the surface civility, tensions simmered, a silent undercurrent of rivalry and resentment that threatened to boil over at any moment. The family dog, “Sir Barkington III” whatever that name was , oblivious to the human drama unfolding, happily gnawed on a bone under the table, providing the only genuine display of contentment in the room. As the night wore on, it became increasingly clear that the only thing more polished than the silverware was the art of pretending everything was fine in this dysfunctional yet impeccably dressed family.

The soft glow of chandeliers, like celestial spotlights, illuminated the opulent hall, casting a glow on the perfectly coiffed heads of the guests. You found yourself standing beside Mrs. Minseo Park, your husband's mother, amidst a sea of relatives so rich they sneeze gold dust. 

It felt like being a penguin at a peacock convention—out of place and desperately hoping no one notices your lack of feathers. And yet, there you were, about to play a game with higher stakes than a poker match in a diamond mine. 

Cue the dramatic music~~~~

As the champagne bubbles in your glass, you couldn't shake off the feeling of being under Mrs. Minseo's microscope. "You know, Y/N, these family gatherings always make me feel like I'm auditioning for a role in a historical drama," Mrs. Minseo quipped, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

You mustered a strained smile. "Ah yes, the importance of lineage and all that jazz."Mrs. Minseo took a sip, her gaze sharpening. "Speaking of lineage, have you and my son had the 'talk' about expanding the family tree?"

The topic had been a persistent thorn in your side, poking at you from all angles. "Well, it's been a topic of discussion," you replied cautiously.

Mrs. Minseo raised an eyebrow. "And?"  

 "And... let's just say we're still in the brainstorming phase," you admitted, feeling like you were tiptoeing through a minefield. Mrs. Minseo’s  disapproval practically radiated off her. "Three years of marriage, dear. Time to start popping out those heirs."

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. "Easier said than done, Mrs. Minseo. Sunghoon and I have a few more items on our to-do list before we dive into parenthood." Mrs. Minseo’s perfectly painted lips formed a thin line. "Such as?"

"Such as not wanting to raise our kids in a cardboard box," you shot back, your patience wearing thin. Her expression hardened. "A woman's place is in the home, dear. Haven't you heard?"

You took a deep breath, summoning your inner calm. "Yes, but I also heard that women can do anything men can do, except maybe pee standing up. So forgive me if I want a career and a family."

Mrs. Minseo’s eyes narrowed. "If you focused more on being a wife, maybe Sunghoon  wouldn't have wandering eyes."

Your jaw practically hit the floor. "Excuse me?"

She leaned in, her voice dripping with disdain. "I've seen the way he looks at other women at these kinds of events. If you can't fulfill his needs as a wife, don't be surprised if he seeks companionship elsewhere."

Your stomach churned with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "Sunghoon loves me, and I trust him."   Mrs. Minseo’s  façade softened, but her disapproval lingered. "I hope you're right, dear. For your sake."

With a curt nod, she excused herself, leaving you feeling like you'd just been hit by a whirlwind of outdated opinions and passive-aggressive remarks. But you refused to let her rain on your parade. You and Sunghoon would figure out your family plans on your own terms, thank you very much. And if anyone dared to question your choices or your marriage, they'd better be ready for a battle.

The time that you turned around wine splattered across your dress, turning your elegant attire into a vibrant Rorschach test, you couldn't help but let out a startled yelp. "Oh, for the love of... who just painted me like one of those French girls?" you grumbled, turning to face the perpetrator, turning around to face the perpetrator, only to be met with the sheepish grin of none other than Heeseung, yeah,  your old high school buddy.

“Heeseung? What in the world are you doing here?" you exclaimed, trying to process the surreal moment. This was supposed to be a strictly family affair, and last time you checked, Heeseung wasn't on the guest list.

Heeseung scratched the back of his head, a guilty expression crossing his features.  Heeseung grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Always prepared, my friend. You never know when a good pratfall might come in handy. Right?” 

As you both attempted to mop up the mess (both literal and figurative), you couldn't shake off the surrealness of the situation. Here you were, at a supposedly exclusive family party, and lo and behold, Heeseung, the long-lost friend, pops up like a pop-up ad on a website.

"So, spill the tea, Heeseung. What brings you to this neck of the woods?" you asked, genuinely curious about his unexpected appearance. Both of you guys walking onto the garden fields. 

Heeseung scratched the back of his head, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Well, funny story. Turns out my mom is the long-lost cousin twice removed of your husband's aunt's neighbor's cat sitter."

You couldn't help but burst into laughter at his convoluted explanation. "Ah, the classic 'six degrees of separation' scenario. Who knew our family trees were intertwined in such bizarre ways?"

Heeseung grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Yeah, small world, huh? But hey, at least it led me to this moment of wine-spilling glory."

As you both share a laugh at the absurdity of it all. Sure, he may be a walking calamity, but he was your calamity, and you wouldn't have it any other way. 

You ended the night with champagne problems, bidding farewell to the storm and hello to the calm, leaving your Sunghoon behind amidst the wreckage of the “what the fuck is this” party. You can't help but be simultaneously annoyed and amused by the man you call your own. Ah, marriage: where every day is a new adventure in forgiveness and eye-rolling.

_ 

As you lay in bed, the air crackling with unspoken tension, you couldn't help but feel like you were starring in your very own melodrama. The evening had been a rollercoaster of emotions, and now, as you lay there in the darkness, you couldn't shake off the feeling that you were trapped in a bad sitcom.

You had arrived home earlier than expected, your blood boiling after yet another run-in with your mother-in-law. Without so much as a warning text to Sunghoon, you had stormed into the bedroom, the door slamming shut behind you like the finale of a dramatic soap opera.

"So, you're just gonna pretend to be asleep, huh?" Sunghoon broke down the silence, the sound of him removing his blazer was briefly audible in the room.  

You suppressed a snicker, knowing full well that your acting skills were about as convincing as a toddler's attempt at hiding behind a curtain.  Sunghoon's eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "Don't 'sleeping beauty' me. Why didn't you tell me you were coming home early?" he crosses his arm. His sleeves rolled up. 

You rolled over to face him, a mischievous glint in your eye. "Well, I didn't want to spoil the surprise, obviously. Plus, I needed some alone time with my thoughts. You know, to contemplate the mysteries of the universe and all that jazz."

Sunghoon let out an exasperated sigh, his frustration palpable. "Right, because slamming doors and sulking in bed is the epitome of enlightenment."  

You couldn't help but burst into laughter at his deadpan delivery. "Hey, you try dealing with your mother's unsolicited life advice and see how zen you feel."

Sunghoon shook his head in amusement, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself. "Fair point. But next time, could you at least give me a heads up before you go all drama queen on me?"

You grinned, feeling the tension between you dissipate like a popped balloon. "No promises. After all, where's the fun in predictability?"

And with that, the two of you settled back into bed, the laughter echoing off the walls like the soundtrack to your own private sitcom. Because when life throws you curveballs, sometimes all you can do is laugh and roll with the fucking punches.

CHAPTER 2

As the morning sun cast its cheerful glow over the amusement park, Sunghoon was knee-deep in best man duties, leaving you to spend the day with Heeseung. As you strolled through the park, Heeseung’s excitement was palpable, like a puppy on caffeine.

“So, Heeseung, what’s our first stop?” you asked, trying to keep up with his brisk pace.Heeseung pointed enthusiastically to the roller coaster towering above the trees. “That one! Let’s kick things off with a scream!”

You chuckled nervously, eyeing the coaster's loops. “Oh, joy. I hope my breakfast stays put.”

The line for the roller coaster was surprisingly short, and before you could say "safety harness," you found yourselves hurtling through the twists and turns. Heeseung's laughter echoed against the screams as you both clung on for dear life.

Once the ride ended, Heeseung looked positively thrilled. “That was awesome! What’s next?” You scanned the park map, trying to ignore the fact that your stomach was now on speaking terms with your throat. You grinned, feeling a bit like a daredevil by comparison. “Agreed. How about something less... vomit-inducing?”

Heeseung was nodding so vigorously, you thought his head might detach and roll into the nearest carnival game booth. And as you ventured into the land of rigged games and dubious prizes, Heeseung's competitive spirit burst forth like a lion who had chugged a case of energy drinks. It was less "friendly competition" and more "I must win at all costs or my pride will never let me hear the end of it."

“You think you can beat me at ring toss?” he taunted, tossing a ring with unexpected accuracy. You smirked, grabbing a ring of your own. “Oh, it’s on like Donkey Kong!”

The competition escalated, with stuffed animals hanging in the balance. After several rounds of near misses and wild throws, you both walked away with a small army of plush toys and aching arms. As the day came to a close, you collapsed onto a bench, exhausted but grinning from ear to ear.

“Well, Heeseung,” you said, wiping tears of laughter from your eyes, “this was definitely something  to remember.” Heeseung grinned back, rubbing his sore shoulder. “No kidding. Thanks for braving the rides and the games with me, Y/N.”

You nudged him playfully. “Anytime, Heeseung. Just maybe next time, we’ll invest in some motion sickness pills.”

As you traipsed through the chaotic carnival with Heeseung, the ridiculousness of the situation hit you like a giant plush hammer. "Who knew being the substitute spouse came with such sweet perks?" you quipped, elbowing Heeseung with a wink.

Heeseung chuckled, his eyes darting from one colorful attraction to another. "Well, I'm flattered to be your stand-in hubby for the day," he replied with a grin. "But let's be real, I'm probably enjoying this more than Sunghoon would."

You both shuffled over to the Ferris wheel, its towering presence promising a view that could make even a bird jealous. As you plopped into your seat, Heeseung leaned back with a satisfied sigh. "Ah, a brief escape from the circus of life," he remarked, lazily surveying the horizon.

You nodded, feeling the serene insanity of the amusement park wash over you. "Absolutely. Although I never pictured spending my day at a theme park with my husband's... what's-their-name-again cousin?" you teased, shooting Heeseung a playful side-eye.

But halfway up, Heeseung's excitement took a nosedive into full-blown panic territory. "Um, Y/N," he whimpered, his face draining faster than a slushie on a hot day, "I think I'm terrified of heights."

You couldn't stifle your laughter. "Really? Just now, when we're halfway to the clouds?" Heeseung clung to the safety bar like a sloth on caffeine until the ride finally ended.

"You're starting to remind me of my husband," you said through giggles. "Except he was scared of thunder..." Your voice trailed off as you extended your hand to Heeseung. "Need a hand, or maybe a parachute?"

You extended your hand to him, but he shot you a skeptical glance. "What the fuck is that suppose to accomplish?" he queried, raising an incredulous eyebrow.

"I dunno, maybe to prevent you from clinging to the safety bar like a koala on a eucalyptus tree?" you retorted with a shrug, nodding toward the towering Ferris wheel. He cocked his head slightly, eyeing you curiously.

"You're cool with this?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I'm just trying to save you from turning green at the thought of heights," you quipped, rolling your eyes at him.

 With a reluctant chuckle, Heeseung finally relented, tentatively taking your hand in his. As the Ferris wheel ascended, his grip tightened, but with each rotation, you felt his tension ease. "See? Not so bad, right?" you teased, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

Heeseung let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "Yeah, I guess you're not so bad at this” calming thing," he admitted. 

As the ride reached its peak, you both marveled at the breathtaking view below. For a moment, all worries melted away, replaced by the simple joy of shared laughter and camaraderie.

When the ride finally descended, Heeseung stepped off with newfound confidence, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Thanks for the hand," he said, giving your fingers a final squeeze before releasing them. 

"Anytime," you replied with a grin. 

Heeseung, clad in his pajamas, stood in front of the bathroom sink of his sprawling house, , the opulent surroundings only adding to the absurdity of his situation. 

"This is beyond ridiculous," he muttered to himself, his reflection in the mirror seeming to agree with a silent nod.

He splashed some water on his face, hoping the shock of the cold liquid would jolt him out of his swirling thoughts. But as he looked up again, his reflection remained unchanged, a constant reminder of the turmoil within.

With a frustrated sigh, Heeseung ran a hand through his  hair, his mind racing with questions he didn't have answers to. 

Well, isn't that just Murphy's law in action? Of all the fish in the sea, you reel in a big, shiny, unavailable one. Classic! Now, what's next? 

Well, Heeseung could always try your hand at convincing you to get a divorce with your  husband. No fucking way...That's a one-way ticket to Awkwardsville. 

How about we start with a little self-reflection? Then maybe sign up for a dating app where all the profiles actually belong to single people. 

_ 

You could practically hear the ominous music playing as you went out with Heeseung, fully aware that a note-less escapade would land you in the doghouse. So, you hastily wrapped up your amusement park adventure, not because you were done having fun, but because you were on a mission to beat Sunghoon home, avoiding the impending interrogation about your lack of communication! It’s like a high-stakes game of tag, except instead of being "it," you’re just "in trouble."

"Bloody hell," you muttered, juggling all your amusement park loot as you tiptoed back into the house. You couldn’t believe you’d danced so close to the flames of Sunghoon’s note wrath, but hey, victory was yours.

There you were, freshly scrubbed and draped in a silk nightie, the epitome of nighttime sensuality. Yeahhh perhaps too much sensuality for a regular evening at home. Fortunately, that was a night to remember later that evening. 

Rousing from slumber to the sensation of a heavy weight on your stomach, just discovering Sunghoon nestled against you, shirtless, arms encircling you in a gentle embrace  and apparently mistaking you for a human-sized teddy bear in his sleep.

If only you went straight to bed yesterday, but no,  you made your way downstairs, night air enveloping you like a clingy ex, refusing to let go. The “silk nightie”, who was clinging for dear life, seemed to have its own agenda, plotting to reveal more than your freaking  thirst. The time you were quenching that thirst, the door creaked open, and in strutted your husband, looking like he’d just seen a ghost, a very seducing one.

You wouldn’t have seen all these love bites scattered all over your body just now in the bathroom mirror. All you knew that man was starved, in fact it was like a vampire attack, like you were some eternal blood source. 

"Well, on the bright side, at least it's a clear sign that he's still absolutely obsessed with you!" Chaewon says through a phone call. You rolled your eyes as you switched your phone to the other side of your ear. 

"But seriously, I might need to invest in some garlic or fucking turtle necks until these fades away” You were absolutely convinced these marks wasn't planning to vanish by the time the big day rolled around. Well, here's to hoping there's enough makeup foundation to camouflage it – or maybe just hope it passes off as avant-garde art. 

As the bachelorette party continued on the beach, the atmosphere grew livelier with each passing moment. Sakura, the bride-to-be, seemed to be in her element, regaling her friends with hilarious anecdotes from her past and leading them in impromptu beach games.

With her claddering in a makeshift veil fashioned from seaweed and shells, twirls around the makeshift dance floor, her laughter infectious as she attempts to teach you the latest dance craze she picked up from a YouTube tutorial.

Yujin dramatically fanned herself, her face flushed from a combination of excitement and the relentless sun. "I swear, if I get any hotter, I'll rival a popsicle on a July afternoon"

Karina, chuckled sympathetically. "Tell me about it. At this rate, I'll be auditioning for the role of tumbleweed in a beachside Western!" wrestling with her wind-mangled hair,

You couldn't help but burst into laughter at their exaggerated plight, feeling a sense of camaraderie amidst the absurdity. "Well, if we're destined to become tumbleweeds, let's at least be the most glamorous ones ever seen on this beach"

Chaewon nodded eagerly. "Absolutely! Move over, Baywatch, here comes the Tumble Squad!"

Despite the idyllic setting, chaos seemed to follow the bride wherever she went. From all of you,  bridesmaids frantically searching for her lost engagement ring (which you guys later found buried in the sand during an impromptu game of beach volleyball) to her future mother-in-law mistaking a seagull for the wedding planner, it was abundantly clear that this bachelorette party wasn’t even close to ordinary ones. 

As the day goes  by, you find yourself nestled on the sandy shores, seeking solace amidst the cacophony of bachelorette shenanigans. Just when you were about to sink into a serene trance, a sight straight out of a tipsy fairy tale unfolded before you.

There she was, the blushing bride-to-be, stumbling towards you with the grace of a drunken seagull, her eyes sparkling with mischief like a mischievous sprite.

 With all the finesse of a beached mermaid, she flopped down beside you, disrupting your beachside reverie.

"Heyyy," she slurred, her words riding on a wave of tequila. "Guess what?"

You braced yourself for whatever whimsical revelation was about to befall you. 

"Your hubby?" she exclaimed, leaning in so close you could practically taste the margaritas wafting from her breath. "He's our wedding superhero. Save us from total meltdown" 

Your laughter bubbled up faster than champagne on New Year's Eve, imagining your usually mild-mannered partner morphing into a wedding-wielding crusader, cape and all.

"He's a legend," she proclaimed, brandishing her cocktail like a triumphant warrior. 

"You've hit the jackpot, my friend” she says weakly nudging you. 

As the boat swayed gently like a cradle rocked by a tipsy sailor, the groom, Jay, and Sunghoon found themselves caught in a momentary lull in the storm of wedding madness.

"So, you knew about this whole thing and didn't confront her?" Jay leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, looking like a detective from a B-grade movie.

“I gotta play it cool until the 'I do's' are done, you know?" Sunghoon replied, taking a swig of his drink. "Can't be squabbling with my Mrs. while I'm supposed to be your best man. That'd be like serving cake with a side of divorce papers."

"THEE LEE Heeseung, right?”

“ONE OF MY GROOMSMEN?" Jay asked, putting the puzzle pieces together, as he widens his eyes

Sunghoon grimaced, "Yeah, that's the one."

 "Bro, that's twisted."

"Messed up, right?" Sunghoon chuckled, though there was a hint of pain in his voice.

"Well, ain't that a pickle," Jay muttered, trying to lighten the mood but failing spectacularly. "I'm just here for the drama, mate. Pass the popcorn." he threw his hands up in mock surrender. 

"Thank the heavens you dragged me into this escapade of yours away from your OWN bachelor’s party," Sunghoon says as he trims his fingers through the wine glass. 

"Hey, if you stayed longer there, you would have had to punch that guy in the face? Right?” Jay said, with a concerned look. 

“Sorry Hoon, can't have you rotting in jail on my wedding day." Sunghoon rolled his eyes, thoroughly unamused by Jay's cavalier attitude, knowing he had a loyal friend, yeah even if that loyalty came with a side of over-the-top theatrics.

Sunghoon actually harbored suspicions well before your chance encounter at the bakery. His intrigue began when he noticed Heeseung's name on the groomsmen list enclosed within the wedding invitation.

Heeseung certainly masked his true nature with a devilish guise, yet you found yourself too preoccupied to realize it.

Yeah, to remember when Heeseung left Sunghoon with bruises after their playdate? It's hard to believe, but it all boiled down to Sunghoon having better toys than him. What's even more surprising is that nobody reprimanded Heeseung for his behavior, it was brushed off as “typical childhood antics."

Heeseung's behavior continued as they grew older, contributing to the growing chasm between them. He would frequently target Sunghoon, resorting to physical violence during vacant times at school. Sunghoon chose to suffer in silence, fearing the consequences if he dared to tell his parents, knowing he'd face even more trouble in school if he did.

"In case it wasn't clear before, let me make it crystal: one more conversation, one more glance, even a hint of your presence near Y/N, and you'll wish you'd never done that" he uttered in a low, ominous tone, his gaze piercing into Sunghoon's soul. 

“I’m not afraid of killing you right here, right now”  he whispered at Sunghoon, his eyes ablaze with a chilling intensity, after catching you both in conversation at the party where your paths first crossed. 

Heeseung's just doing his best protective bulldog impression because he's fucking smitten with you, but let's face it, he's about as intimidating as a fluffy bunny wearing a 'Beware of Rabbit' sign. And yet, despite his valiant efforts, the bond between you and Sunghoon is stronger than ever. I guess love wins all over damn bunny threats 

As you sit in the church pew, trying to suppress the urge to fidget and accidentally knock over the flower arrangement, your attention is suddenly diverted by the sight of Ms. Youngseo in all her glory. There she sits, like a majestic peacock in the third row, her hat towering above the congregation like a beacon of eccentricity.

You debate internally whether it's worth risking your dignity to approach her. After all, she's the aunt of Sunghoon, your husband. Ah yes, it’s the lady who made divorce seem like an extreme sport, she’s crazy but at least she is kinder than Hoon’s mother. 

Mustering up your courage, telling yourself it's for the sake of civility and maybe a good story to tell later. "Ms.Youngseo, lovely to see you here," you begin, trying to sound casual despite feeling like you're tiptoeing through a minefield.

"Oh, dear, isn't it just a splendid day for a wedding?" she chirps, her voice as cheerful as a Disney character on helium. You nod, trying not to get distracted by the miniature garden atop her head. "Yes, it's quite lovely."

She gives you a knowing smile, as if she's privy to some grand secret. "Ah, weddings. Such joyous occasions. Reminds me of my third one." You resist the urge to raise an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yes, lovely affair, that one. Shame about my ex though. Turns out he had a wandering eye. Literally. Had to get it surgically corrected," she confides, her tone oddly chipper.You're not sure whether to laugh or run for the hills. "Well, uh, glad you could make it to this one."

She pats your hand with a gloved finger. "Oh, my dear, I wouldn't miss it for the world.”

Meanwhile, at the entrance of the church, a silent showdown unfolded like a low-budget Western film. It was the kind of conflict where the only weapons were awkward glances and passive-aggressive sighs. .

Well, Sunghoon's eyes narrow as he spots Heeseung lingering there. Suddenly, it's as if a floodgate of childhood memories bursts open, unleashing a tidal wave of old grudges and playground battles, turning his chest into a pressure cooker of pent-up irritation and resentment.

Heeseung's gaze meets Sunghoon's, as they walk past each other,  neither speaks. After many years the tension still hangs thick between them, suffocating the air around them.

And even before Jay and Sakura could even think about saying "I do," you found yourself caught in a poignant stare-down with Sunghoon. Memories flooded in like a nosy neighbor barging into your life uninvited. As the church organ wheezed into life, signaling the start of the grand spectacle, Sunghoon shot you one last desperate glance. Both of you silently mouthed those three little words, "I love you,"  

And there it was, causing even the sturdiest of souls to feel a tear or two meander down their cheeks as the bride floated down the aisle, a vision of love and hope in white. 

It felt like just yesterday you were the one sauntering down that very same aisle.

As you and Sunghoon settled at a table, basking in the post-nuptial glow, he leaned in with a soft smile, his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief. "You know," Sunghoon began, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia, "seeing Sakura walk down the aisle reminded me so much of our own wedding day."

You chuckled softly, remembering the whirlwind of emotions that had accompanied your own journey down the aisle. "Really? I didn't know I had competition," you teased, nudging him playfully.

Sunghoon grinned, shaking his head. "No competition at all. But seeing her, in that moment, it was like déjà vu. I almost cried, you know."

"Almost?" you raised an eyebrow, feigning disbelief. "You're slipping, Mr. Park. I thought you were the king of sentimental tears."

He chuckled, his gaze lingering on you with affection. "Well, I had to hold it together. Didn't want to steal the spotlight from the happy couple."

You rolled your eyes, reaching for his hand under the table. "You're such a sap," you teased, squeezing his hand gently.

"Only for you," he replied, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. "Always for you."

Just as the glasses clinked, the speeches began, with him leading the charge. As the toasts flowed like fine wine, you couldn't resist sharing knowing glances, silently acknowledging the uncanny resemblance between Sakura's procession and your own wedding extravaganza. It was indeed déjà vu with champagne. 

Outside the elegant venue, away from the laughter and music of the wedding reception, Sunghoon sought a moment of solace, a cigarette hanging between his fingers. Champagne wasn’t enough to  relieve all this wedding stress. 

He was startled to find Heeseung standing in the shadows, a cigarette of his own between his lips. The sight of his childhood tormentor sent a chill down Sunghoon's spine, but he squared his shoulders, refusing to show weakness.

Heeseung's smirk was as insidious as ever, his gaze lingering on Sunghoon with a predatory glint. "Well, if it isn't little Sunghoon. Enjoying your moment of freedom, away from your precious wife?"

Sunghoon's grip tightened on his cigarette, the ember glowing in the darkness. He forced a tight smile, his voice cold. "Just taking a breather, Heeseung. What about you?

Heeseung's eyes glinted with mischief as he took a drag. "Ah, that is overrated. I prefer the view inside. 

“Speaking of views... your wife. She's quite the sight, isn't she?"

Sunghoon's blood chilled at the mention of his wife, his grip on the cigarette tightening involuntarily, his temper ready to burst despite his attempts to keep it in check. "Watch your words, Heeseung. You're skating on thin ice here."

Heeseung chuckled darkly, the sound sending a chill down Sunghoon's spine. "Oh, come on, Sunghoon. Let's be real. She's got curves in all the right places. I bet she keeps you on your toes in bed."

Sunghoon felt his vision blur with rage, it looks like the cigarette is now a forgotten accessory. He stepped forward,  "That's crossing the line bud. Don't you dare talk about her like that."

Heeseung's smirk widened, his gaze daring. "Or what? You'll finally grow a backbone? I highly doubt it. You've always been about as sturdy as a wet noodle, Sunghoon. And as for your wife... well, she deserves someone with a bit more backbone, don't you think?"

“Oh please it’s like you’re even better than me” Sunghoon rolls his eyes 

“Just admit it”     “You’re jealous of me” 

“That’s why I had to endure every bit of your endless torments” 

With a sudden, sharp impact, everything blurred for a split second. The sensation of Heeseung's fist crashing into Sunghoon's face rips through him like a bolt of lightning.

Sunghoon's control snapped like a brittle twig, his hand lashing out to grab Heeseung by the collar. The air crackled with tension as they locked eyes, the weight of years of resentment hanging heavy between them.

Both of their eyes lock, a silent battlefield where years of bitterness and resentment converge. The air crackles with the tension of unspoken words, heavy with the weight of our tangled history.

But then, with a deep breath, Sunghoon released his hold, his voice steely. "Stay away from  her, Heeseung. Or you'll fucking regret it." Before the situation can escalate further, a hand grips his shoulder, pulling Sunghoon back from the brink of violence. 

It's Jay,  his expression a mix of concern and admonishment.

"Sunghoon, what the hell are you doing?" Jay's voice cuts through the tension, grounding Sunghoon  in the reality of the present moment. Sunghoon takes a deep breath, as Jay turns his attention to Heeseung, his tone firm.

"Heeseung, I think it's best if you leave," Jay says, his words carrying a weight of finality while death glaring at Heeseung. With a final glance at Sunghoon, Heeseung nods curtly before disappearing, leaving behind a lingering sense of unease. 

As you enter the bedroom, you find Sunghoon sitting on the edge of the bed, his expression a mix of pain and frustration. His lips are swollen and bruised, evidence of the altercation with Heeseung at the wedding reception.

Approaching him with a mixture of concern and amusement, you suppress a smile at the sight of his injured pride. "Well, look at you," you tease gently, "getting into fights at weddings. I always knew you had a knack for drama."

Sunghoon manages a weak chuckle, though it's clear that the pain is still fresh in his mind. "It wasn't my fault," he protests, wincing as he touches his swollen lip gingerly. "Heeseung just sucker-punched me out of nowhere."

Once you've finished tending to his injury, you lean back and regard him with a playful glint in your eye. "You know, maybe you should take it easy on the whole rivalry thing," you suggest lightly. "I don't want to have to patch you up after every encounter with Heeseung."

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of amusement in his gaze. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he concedes, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. "But promise me one thing?"

you raise an eyebrow, curious. "What's that?"

Sunghoon's expression turns serious as he meets your gaze. "Promise me you'll stay away from Heeseung," he says softly. "I don't want you getting mixed up in our history."

You smile reassuringly, placing a hand on his cheek. "Don't worry," you assure him, "I have no intention of getting involved in your drama from now on.  Besides, I have enough trouble dealing with you."

Sunghoon grins, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips, his injury forgotten for the moment. 

incase if some lines/dialogues are familiar to you guys thats because some are from movies/books ive read/watched ! =)

p.s: no i am not gonna make another continuation for this or make a special chapter about it..

#enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfics #enhypen fanfiction #enha x reader #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enha fluff #enha #fanfic #fisheshavegill #enhypen series #park sunghoon #enha sunghoon #sunghoon #sunghoon fanfic #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon fic

[sh0tanzz]

I wish you would do a full post dedicated to toxicity or angsty shortcomings in relationships with the boys 🫠 I loved reading the toxic head canons ❤️

angst hurts my heart but !!

RIIZE RED FLAGS based on astrology~

hyung line edition ❗️

reminder this is based off of MY opinions of their birth chart placements + aspects and is not exact fact unless I knew them myself and I am not a professional astrologer

Shotaro

Vague - not exactly a red flag but he cares a lot about the things going on within his personal life but sometimes he might prefer to keep things to himself due to paranoia of how his s/o will react or if they’d use it against him..he might have a fear of betrayal that can make him be pretty vague and unable to tell his s/o a lot of things in regards to him which can feel secretive to someone who wants a relationship with open info

Intense - His Scorpio moon paired with his Cap venus leads to a need for loyalty as well as his moon/mercury aspect making him very observant of your words and even remembering things you said a longgg time ago which can be overwhelming and feel even persecuting to some. He might also be paranoid in the relationship of cheating or disloyalty.

Coldness- When he's upset he might have a tendency to be cold yet indirect. He has a scorpio mercury and when upset or protecting themselves they can say things that really hurt or could be pretty cutting. He also has a libra mars so he'd be pretty passive aggressive or indirect with his upset.

Eunseok

Nonchalant- (reminder that nonchalant means that a person cares but acts in a way that suggests indifference/disinterest) He can sometimes be too nonchalant and can make someone overall feel as though he has no passion in the relationship when really he does but just doesn't think you have to be lovey dovey 24/7 or he cant express his passion super well as times

Outburst- Eunseok has a cap moon and moon/saturn aspects paired with a mutable mars so he doesn't express his emotions well or bottles them up which can lead to him getting triggered at random and having a spontaneous outburst out of NOWHEREEE due to suppressed feelings which can be super problematic to some

Insensitive- it’s not on purpose or with malicious intent but Eunseok can sometimes not realize that though a situation isn’t a big deal to him to someone else it might be, he also can forget the more subjective side of things which can accidentally hurt peoples feelings

Sungchan

Sensitive - His pride is high and his reaction to things may be 3x more dramatic than the actual event that happened. When he's been hurt emotionally (whether it was intentional or not) he has a hard time letting go of what happened and might even give a silent treatment until he feels you've shown remorse.

Insecure - He cares a lot about what other people think of him and that can bleed into his relationships. He might act one way in public but another way in private which can make his words/actions seem insincere or disingenuous.

Internal struggles- Has a hard time balancing his feminine side and masculine side and what I mean is he is someone super emotional and feels his emotions very deeply but might try to cover that side of him up with a masculine facade which can bring tension.

Wonbin

Avoidance - He might refuse to acknowledge the red flags or obvious shortcomings/problems in the relationship or himself and may take a long time fully accepting or facing these problems as they are or has a weak approach in attempting to fix or acknowledge the problems. Idealizes a lot of aspects and tends to withdrawal when things don’t match his vision.

Procrastination- Once again, has a hard time facing things head on and takes a while to put action into something and avoids the messier more negative emotions that one must face in relationships; he could also take a long time to let the relationship reach the next more serious levels.

Stubborn- It's hard to change his mind about certain things..in arguments he'll try to pull a "lets agree to disagree" but it's a topic where you both need to be on the same page. He might even just straight up go mute in arguments if he doesn't feel like his opinion was valued enough.

#sh0tanzz #riize #kpop astrology #riize shotaro #riize sungchan #riize eunseok #riize wonbin #riizenet #riize fluff #riize imagines #riize reactions #riize headcanons #riize scenarios #riize x reader #riize x imagine #riize soft hours #riize soft thoughts #riize angst #eunseok x reader #riize shotaro x reader #sungchan x reader #wonbin x reader #jung sungchan #osaki shotaro #song eunseok #park wonbin #briize #riize is 7 #riize reading #riize smau

[innuendostudios]

New video essay! On the Reverse Gish Gallop - how conservatives can ignore 90% of your argument and still appear to be winning.

If you would like more of this, subscribe to Nebula and/or back me on Patreon!

Transcript below the cut.

Say, for the sake of argument, you’re watching a political debate on TV. The conservative candidate has used their opening arguments to dump a truckload of dubious claims on their opponent. You recognize this maneuver: that’s the Gish Gallop! The debater makes point after dubious point, and, if the other debater doesn’t rebut every single one, they will appear to have lost the argument. These points don’t have to be good or hard to disprove, there just has to be a lot of them.

Oh, but what’s this? The liberal candidate seems to have come prepared! That’s new! They succinctly and efficiently dismantle each of their opponent’s arguments, offering a clear rebuttal to every single one. It’s obviously not the first time they’ve heard this particular gallop. So, the conservative’s petard has just fully hoisted them. [“What a hoisting!”] They’ve just lost their own game and have to go on the defensive… right?

Turns out, no! The conservative points to a minor error - maybe the liberal said their program would cost $40 million but is actually estimated to cost 43 - and treats them as an ignorant sap who can’t even count correctly. That is now the subject, everything else has been forgotten, and the liberal is backpedaling.

Wait, you exclaim, how does that work?! The liberal has to rebut each and every point but the conservative takes issue with one and stays in the driver’s seat? Are audiences fooled by this? Are liberals that easily snookered? The answer may shock you!

You’ve just borne witness to The Reverse Gish Gallop, where an entire argument falls apart if any of it can be disputed. These disputes, again, don’t have to be good, they just have to call the airtightness of the argument into question.

A good example is how conservatives obsess over gaffes. (Which, fuckin’... really guys?? [W, Trump]) Some Democrat will be all “conservatives want to shut down post offices as a form of vote suppression; they’re pushing voter ID laws and the post office is where many people get IDs; also we are relying more and more heavily on mail-in voting; they overwhelmingly try to shut down offices in Black and Latine neighborhoods; a lot of services like healthcare and courts still use physical mail by default and there can be serious consequences to getting it late; many elderly people still don’t use email, and, hey, maybe some of them like getting junk mail” “AH BA BA BA THAT’S IT THAT’S YOUR WHOLE LIFE NOW FOR THE REST OF YOUR CAREER YOU’RE THE ASSHOLE WHO SAID OLD PEOPLE LIKE JUNK MAIL.”

Your mistake was assuming that dishonest people abide by the same rules they impose on everyone else. When I was a teenager, some friends of the family would invite me along when they asked my parents to dinner, because I would play with their five-year-old and let the grown-ups chat in peace. And he’d make up games where we’d bat a balloon back and forth or whatever, and change the rules on the fly when it suited him. Because the rule wasn’t actually “you can only touch the balloon once per turn;” the rule was “Andrew wins.”

The purpose of a Gish Gallop is to establish a narrative not through argument or logic but force and volume. Once established, it takes a lot less effort for them to maintain than for you to establish a new one. If they shake confidence in your argument, the audience will often revert to the previous argument, whether or not that one was ever proven. It’s a not about which story is true, it’s about who sets the parameters for all stories going forward; who got there first. This is not a debate; this is a Zerg Rush. Understand: a dishonest argument is Lego - you haven’t dismantled it until every brick is separated. But an honest rebuttal? An honest rebuttal is Jenga.

#video essay #alt-right playbook #Youtube

[joannechocolat]

Content Warning: contains scenes of graphic kindness; wokery; tolerance; profanity.

A few days ago, I posted a little Twitter poll, asking readers (and authors) what they thought of trigger warnings. I followed this up with a short thread, outlining my own thoughts on this, and how they have changed over the years.

The Daily Mail immediately seized the idea, and without contacting me, or asking for further clarification, published an article quoting my words, under a headline that was both inflammatory and untrue: Trigger warnings should be put on EVERY book to make readers feel 'safe', Chocolat author Joanne Harris says.

Predictably, this caused a frenzy of reaction from Daily Mail readers and Twitter trolls, including accusations of censorship and “pandering to moronic snowflakes”. Several people (who I suspect, have never even picked up one of my books) swore never to read them. One charmer wrote: “Fucking pathetic. What a dick the author must be.”

I don’t blame the writer of the article; most clickbait headlines are added by someone else - in this case, by someone who couldn’t even be bothered to read the article, let alone my original thread. It has since been quietly changed, presumably in response to my comments, although once again, without any communication with me. But as a result of these comments (and some more polite ones from people asking about the poll), I think it’s time I made it clear, both where I stand on trigger warnings, and why the public perception of them, fuelled by culture wars debates, is both skewed and inaccurate.

First, the result of my poll: about 35% of the people who answered were in favour of some kind of content warning. About 30% were against, and the rest were undecided, curious about the result. To me this suggests that most people are generally positive or undecided on the subject. From the comments, it seemed to me that many of the people who were against trigger warnings were afraid they might lead to censorship, or spoilers, or editing of the classics, or stopping people from reading the classics, or authors losing the right to free speech.

But here's the thing. Trigger warnings are nothing to do with those things. Here’s why people have been misled, and why it matters to put things straight.

First, this expression; “triggered.” Like “woke” and “snowflake” it has been weaponized to mean something like “upsetting the libs.” Reader, that's not what it means. The concept of triggering only applies to someone with PTSD or some kind of serious psychological trauma. That makes it irrelevant to politics. Anyone can have trauma. Anyone is potentially vulnerable to mental illness. And that’s why trigger warnings exist; to warn people who might suffer a relapse, or some other kind of serious harm, if exposed without warning to certain images, scenes or narrative strands. Some of the obvious ones might be sexual violence; graphic images; mental illness; eating disorders; suicide. I’m sure there are lots more. But we’ve had content warnings (if you prefer) on films for decades without any resistance, and TV shows routinely flag up scenes with flashing images, etc. that might trigger (that word again) an epileptic seizure in anyone susceptible.  

And yes, it makes sense. I mean, why would you want someone to have a seizure if you could just warn them against it? Who but a sadist would argue that people with epilepsy should be forced to have seizures, or that having regular seizures will make them more resilient somehow, or that people afraid to have seizures should just stop watching films and TV altogether, or that warnings against flashing lights would somehow spoil other people’s enjoyment of the show? And yet those are all things that people have said to me recently about content warnings.

To me content warnings in books are like content warnings on packaged food. Most people don’t read them, unless they have a special interest or need to know. Why do they need to know? There might be any number of reasons. Maybe they’re vegan, and want to avoid eating animal products. Maybe they have a religious dietary restriction. Maybe they have a mild allergy to peanuts or to shellfish. Or maybe it’s a more a serious allergy that could even result in their death. Either way, details are useful. Content warnings in books are the same, except that instead of triggering a physical attack, certain things trigger a mental one.

I'm not talking here about things that might simply cause offence. I sometimes use profanity in my books; I sometimes write about topics that people may find challenging. That's not going to change. I won't add content warnings for swearing, or nudity, or paganism, or LGBT issues. None of those things cause trauma, though I'm willing to believe they may in some cases cause offence.

But mental trauma is just as real as any physical injury. It’s not just “in your head”. It requires adjustments in the same way that any other condition may require adjustments - whether that's a wheelchair ramp, or subtitles on TV, or studs on the pavement to help the blind.

And yet, the culture wars narrative – led by a right-wing media - is leaning increasingly towards a “survival of the fittest” mentality; repeatedly encouraging able-bodied people to question disability, white people to question racism, rich people to question poverty, and urging those who have never experienced mental trauma to dismiss the needs of those who struggle with it daily. Empathy and kindness are presented as political gestures, earning “woke points” (whatever they are), rather than the elements of basic human decency. And of course, people who talk about “decency” in the context of nudity, LGBT issues and profanity often see no problem in labelling themselves “anti-woke”, or sneering at the “Be Kind brigade”, or making dismissive judgments about the lives of people they will never know. Somewhere along the line, somehow, basic human kindness has been reframed as a tool of the left, and those who hold right-wing opinions are encouraged to reject it.

Well, fuck that. People are better than this. Some people need content warnings, and it’s not up to you or me to decide whether their need is valid or not. That’s why, from now on, I’ll be adding including content warnings to my books, and to my author website. Ignore them or not, as you choose.

But to those who are offended by the concept of inclusion, here’s a trigger warning just for you: Contains tolerance; scenes of moderate kindness; depictions of graphic wokery. Read my books at your peril. Or don’t. Isn’t freedom marvellous?

#writing #trigger warnings

[gottalottarocks]

Are you an American? Frustrated by the political process? Do you feel like you have no voice in our government? Let me introduce you to the wonderful world of public comments. 

This is where federal agencies propose new regulations asking for public feedback:

Regulations.gov

Here's a step by step on how to navigate this:

Look through the proposals on the explore tab and filter by "Proposed Rule". These are the regulations that have been proposed, but not finalized. 

If you click on these, they are pretty dense, text heavy explanations of the proposed rule changes. I definitely do a lot of googling when trying to understand what I'm reading. Also there are a lot of different topics here and I definitely don't comment on everything.

This is how you make a public comment. For example, for this proposed rule:

Start a new document and write the subject and docket number. Your comment NEEDS to have the docket number for them to count it most of the time, and the correct subject some of the time.

^^ this is ambiguous, but add the docket ID and subject just to be safe, it should look like this:

Ref: Docket ID No. NSD 104

Provisions Pertaining to Preventing Access to Americans' Bulk Sensitive Personal Data and U.S. Government-Related Data by Countries of Concern

Then address to the person at the very very end of the page. 

Scroll all the way to the end:

^^this is the person you address to. 

Then introduce yourself. If you have experience related to the proposed rule, talk about that. For rules related to the environment and public health I say that I'm a geologist with a master's degree and I work in environmental remediation. Otherwise, I just say I'm a concerned citizen. 

Then I say hey I agree/ disagree with this proposed rule and here's why. Oftentimes there will be lists that the federal agency is asking for specific feedback on.

Commenting on these will have a lot of impact. 

Here's an example comment I forgot to post for a rule regarding methane emissions in the oil and gas industry:

Administrator Michael Regan The United States Environmental Protection Agency 1200 Pennsylvania Avenue, N.W. Washington, DC 20460

Ref: Docket ID No. __ Waste Emissions Charge for Petroleum and Natural Gas Systems Dear Administrator Regan, My name is __ and I am writing to you as a geologist and graduate of ___.  I currently work in ____. Thank you for your interest in reducing methane pollution, which I believe to be one of the most important aspects in reducing the harm caused by the climate crisis. Within the short term, methane is a much more powerful force of global warming than carbon dioxide. It breaks down faster than carbon dioxide— but it traps significantly more heat that should be bouncing back into space. When scientists talk about taking our foot off the gas pedal in regards to the climate crisis, methane is at the forefront of our minds. Natural gas is often proposed as a solution to reducing our greenhouse gas emissions (since it produces less carbon dioxide than coal plants), but these methane leaks are a serious threat to public health. Not only is methane hazardous, it’s ability to cause short-term superheating is contributing to the rapid increase in wildfires within the U.S. and globally, further degrading air quality. Last summer in NYC skies were orange, caused by ash from Canadian wildfires. As someone who sets up air monitoring equipment every day to ensure the surrounding community is not impacted from the disposal of hazardous waste, I have a unique opportunity to see on a day-to-day basis how air quality is degrading. I strongly support the Environmental Protection Agency's proposed waste emissions charge. For EPA’s implementation of the fee to fulfill Congress’s goals, the final regulation must continue to include key requirements including: ·       Regulatory compliance exemptions must only become available after final standards and plans are in effect in all states and that these plans are at least as strong as the EPA's 202 methane emissions proposal. Operators filing for exemption must also demonstrate full compliance across their facilities; ·       Strong and clear criteria must remain in place for operators seeking an exemption based on unreasonable permitting delays; ·       When operators seek an exemption for plugged wells, they must clearly demonstrate that their wells have been properly plugged and are no longer polluting; ·       Transparent calculations and methodologies to accurately determine an owner or operator’s net emissions; and ·       Strong verification protocols so that fee obligations accurately reflect reported emissions and that exemptions are only available once the conditions Congress set forth are met. I urge the EPA to quickly finalize this proposal with limited flaring, strengthened emissions standards for storage tanks, and a pathway for enhanced community monitoring. Thank you, ___________

And then paste your comment in or upload a document and submit! You will be asked to provide your name and address. Also the FCC will only take comments on their website, but the proposed rule will be posted on the federal regulations website I put above and they should have a link to the FCC website within that post. 

#this is one of those things like jury nullification that nobody knows about but should #i like this because it's a written format that actually gets taken into account #I feel like emailing representatives gets lost in the sauce #resource #us politics #american politics #geolife

[threelionsgirl]

karma is my boyfriend| mason mount

part II of better with me

summary: y/n and mason finally arrive in cancun with y/n having to make a serious decision; while trying to understand her feelings for mason warnings: none word count: 1.760 notes: it's been a long time since i've posted anything, this was a sequel that i've been writing for a while, i even thought about posting it on wattpad bc i really like the plot, but i don't know, do you want a sequel? let me know!!! also i wanted to say that english isn't my first language so sorry for the mistakes, not reviewed (ignore the title too, I couldn't think of anything better

After just over two hours of pure sex with Mason, Y/N had decided that this was the best way to travel by plane, but she wasn't iron either. She was exhausted, and he wasn't much different either. For the rest of the time, realising they had no choice, they silently agreed to raise a peace flag, at least until the plane landed. They were still sharing that small sofa, but decided to put on some warmer clothes while the same blanket covered them. Y/N had discovered that she could occupy the same seat with Mason without fighting with him or fucking him… She hadn't felt that sensation since… Since they were 15, when things started to change between them and a part of her, however small, missed her friend. "So why didn't you break up with him?" Mason asked. They had been talking for a while about trivial things, and that was one of his biggest doubts. The low light and the cold climate made the atmosphere of the plane pleasant for that. He had one arm under her body and his Serbian bicep as a pillow to support her head. "Him who?" "Your boyfriend, Jake." Y/N grimaced as she remembered him. She didn't want to remember him while she was still with Mason, because she knew that cheating on him had been wrong.

"Well, I don't know… He's a nice guy, he treats me well, and I know he loves me." Guilt seemed to consume her even more after saying that, Jake was a nice guy, he didn't deserve what she was doing to him, even though she wasn't sorry. "I guess I was trying to focus on these things, thinking that it would be immature to end a relationship because of sex; Sex shouldn't be the basis of a relationship, and it shouldn't matter so much. I mean, there are people who live just fine without sex, right?" "You're not one of those people, so you're not going to live well that way." He said, and she looked at him, thinking that behind all that arrogance, Mason actually had a thinking brain. "I also agree that it shouldn't be the basis, but sex is fucking important." "You're right, I was just fooling myself. When we get there, I'll give him a call." "To break up?" He asked unassumingly, but with a faint thread of hope running through him. "Yeah, maybe, I guess. I mean, I don't want to hurt him, but I need to tell him I had sex with you. I'm sure he won't be happy to know." She pondered, knowing it would be difficult, but confident that it was the right thing to do. "What about you? Why did you break up with Karen?" She turned sideways to look at him, no longer feeling awkward about having his body so close and wanting to look him in the eye. Mason wanted to pull her around the waist with his other hand and entwine his legs in hers, but somehow it didn't seem right.

"She was suffocating me." He let off steam, remembering how sometimes, or almost always, Karen could be annoying. Mason preferred to summarise the story, the details were too stupid to hold Y/N's attention. "The Euro final was too difficult, and I really didn't want to bring her to Cancún with us." "Hmm." It was the only thing she decided to say, realising that Mason didn't want to prolong the subject any further, and neither did she. Y/N stared at the roof of the plane, listening to the noise of the wind and the engines, the two of them there, it seemed like a parallel reality, and she began to wonder what it would be like when the plane landed. A part of her didn't want things to change because it scared the shit out of her. "Mount?" "What is it, princess?" His eyes were almost closed, but he opened them wide when he heard her voice. "I was serious at the time, let's not tell anyone about it." She said, pointing at him and herself. Mason stopped to think for a moment, in his mind this was the start of something new, but Y/N wasn't really interested in making things change. This fuelled something bitter inside him, so he decided to act the same way.

"I also think it'll be better if they don't know." She shook her head, sure that the subject was closed when he whispered: "So, do you hate me again?" "Wait until the plane lands, now I just want to sleep." Y/N spoke as if sleeping in his arms was the most comfortable place she had ever slept. It made Mason angry, but he couldn't do anything as he watched her eyes grow heavy, as Y/N fell asleep so close to his body. Not while that moment was all he ever wanted.

─────────────

"Look who's finally here? So? How was your trip? I guess you got through it without killing yourselves." Declan laughed as Mason and Y/N got off the plane. They had finally landed, and Y/N's brother decided that he would be the one to meet them at Cancún airport. Y/N couldn't believe it when the plane finally landed. When she woke up on top of Mason, from the window she could see that it was morning, she locked herself in the bathroom and only came out when they were minutes away from landing. It was time to get back to normal, and she had to get ready. She changed her clothes and dressed up as much as possible, trying to look like she hadn't had a hectic night of sex. Y/N left first, coming through the door like a rocket. She stared at Declan with fire in her eyes. Unlike her, he was in a good mood, smiling and wearing sunglasses to protect his eyes from the beautiful sun. "You're a terrible brother, you know that?" She grumbled, walking past him and handing him her bag to carry. He looked at Mason for answers, Declan thought that Y/N would get so angry that she would storm out of the plane swearing a thousand words and slapping his arm, but she seemed quite calm.

"What's up, bro." He greeted Mason and the two of them started walking side by side, behind Y/N who was a few steps ahead.

"I really thought she'd be angrier, what happened there?" Mason bit the inside of his cheek, flashes of the trip flooded his mind and he remembered every moment with Y/N, but he also remembered the deal they had made not to tell anyone, and that included Declan, so it was inevitable that he would have to lie to his best friend. He looked ahead so that Dec wouldn't notice. "I don't know, I slept the whole journey. Do you know how hard it is to put up with a girl as boring as the princess for so many hours?" "Don't be late next time then!" Dec slapped him on the back, laughing. He had thought he was a genius when he came up with the idea of putting Mason and Y/N on the same plane. That experience must have been the worst for both of them, and he found it amusing. The journey out of the airport was uneventful. They had decided to rent a mansion on the beach instead of staying in a hotel with the excuse of having more privacy. Lauren, Alex and Ben were already there when Dec, Mase and Y/N arrived. They hadn't really done much while waiting for the other two. Their plan was to set aside a few hours to rest and go out in the evening.

The house was big enough for everyone to have their own room, with the exception of Lauren and Declan, who preferred to stay together as expected. Y/N discovered that the last two rooms left were facing each other, which meant that Mason would be her next door neighbour. It was for these reasons that she hated arriving after everyone else. She went to her room to unpack and Alex went to help her so they could talk. The only thing Y/N could think about was taking a nice shower. "So, Y/N, is Jake coming?" Alex asked, throwing herself onto her bed after a while. Y/N was on the floor with her suitcases open, looking for an outfit to wear for the evening. Jake. She hadn't even stopped to think about him because remembering that she had cheated on her boyfriend wasn't the best thought. "I'm going to break up with him." "What? Why?" Alex stood up quickly, surprised. In her mind, Y/N and Jake were the happiest couple in the world, she couldn't imagine that they were facing problems to the point of breaking up. "Do you want me to be honest?" Y/N paused. "He's terrible in bed, and I've realised that I can't live without cumming." "Is that serious?" Alex was dumbfounded. Y/N just thought that she would only be more shocked if she knew that it was Mason who had made her realise all that. But Mason was her secret under lock and key.

"Very serious. I'll finish this" She indicated the clothes in her suitcase. "And call him." "You're going to end a year-long relationship over a mobile phone?" Alex looked sceptical, it was all so sudden. Y/N stood up, pondering. God, she had betrayed him, and now she was going to end it all with a phone call. She was a terrible person. That's for sure. Karma was her boyfriend and would come for her at any moment. "Do you want me to make you come here just to finish?" Either option was terrible. She could also pretend that nothing had happened and carry on with Jake, but that seemed even worse. As well as lying to him, she'd be lying to herself. "It makes sense." Alex agreed. Y/N shrugged and took a towel out of her bag. Through the crack in the door, she saw Mason, shirtless, entering his room, and bit her lip. A few hours later and she was already missing his hot body, but NO, it wasn't going to happen again. Ever.

"You look strange, Y/N." Alex's voice roused her from her thoughts, and Y/N stopped staring at the door, trying to forget that Mason was half-naked next door. "No, I'm not. I'm just… thinking about what we're going to do today." "Well, I don't know what I'm going to do, but you'll definitely be looking for a guy who can make you come." Alex laughed, walking past her and slapping her on the bum. Y/N sighed and laughed back. Alex had no idea that Y/N had already found this guy, and he was only a door away.

#mason mount #mason mount blurb #mason mount imagine #mason mount fluff #mason mount one shot #mason mount smut #mason mount x reader #mason mount x you #mason mount fic #mason mount oneshot #mason mount x y/n #mason mount fanfic #mason mount angst #football fic #football imagines #footballer smut #football angst #football one shot #football x reader #football x you #football imagine #football fanfic #footballer imagine

[deadlymistletoe]

Fears and Bandages

Pairing: Thranduil x F!reader

Request: @frustrated-kitten asked: I thought maybe I could request a Thranduil x FemReader where she returns with several injuries after fighting a bunch of spiders with Legolas and some other elves? Some small wounds, some more serious, but in the end she survives and everything goes well?

A/N: I hope it’s what you wanted - I was going to make it more angsty but this is what came out and it stuck.

Genre: slight hurt/comfort

Description: Thranduil’s composure cracks as he waits for you to come home from battling the spiders. He’s only able to put his fears to rest once he’s bandaged you up himself.

Warnings: Mentions of blood/injuries. Stitches.

Word count: 1582

Thranduil’s foot tapped against the ground, fingers drumming impatiently against the armrest of his throne. Besides the two guards posted at the entrance to the room, the rest of his subjects were steering clear of him.

He didn’t blame them for avoiding him while he was like this - after all, had it been someone else fidgeting he would have been annoyed himself.

It was rare for the composed elvenking to fidget as he was, to betray any hint of apprehension, but today was the exception.

It was well known that there were two people on this earth that Thranduil would do absolutely anything to keep safe, and it just so happened that both of them had gone headfirst into a dangerous situation.

The first, his only son, Legolas. Since the elf had first looked up at him from his mother’s with those wide blue eyes Thranduil had known that he would do anything for him.

After his wife had died that feeling had only strengthened, as the meaning in his life centered around the elfling who was quickly becoming one of the realm's best archers.

For a long time, nothing had changed, until he met the second person he would come to care about more than he would have thought possible. You.

Thranduil had never even considered that he might love again after his wife passed, but then you’d come into his life and he’d found himself falling faster than should have. And he just knew that he couldn’t lose you too. History couldn’t repeat itself. He wouldn’t let it.

Of course, that was easier said than done since you, much like Legolas, continuously risked your safety to fight the spiders that continued to invade the Greenwood.

Thankfully for him, you’d stepped back from the danger once the two of you fell in love and you took to the role of Thranduil’s consort - soon-to-be-queen, but the latest nest was bigger than usual and the spiders began to get more bold so you’d insisted on joining Legolas for the raid.

So now Thranduil sat, fidgeting like an impatient elfling, waiting for news. 

He felt something he hadn’t felt in a very long time - helpless.

Yes, Legolas had promised to make sure you both came back in one piece, but Legolas was also known for saying he was ‘fine’ when he had a gaping wound - Valar forbid he find out what his son’s definition of ‘one piece’ was.

Thranduil let out a frustrated sigh. He knew better than to doubt the abilities of you and his son, but sometimes he just couldn’t help but worry. After all, the last time his son had left the palace with a mother-figure, only one of them had come back - granted, that was when Legolas was a child with none of the skills he had now. But still.

He immediately straightened up, movements freezing when Galion ran up the steps leading into the room. “They’re back, my lord.”

Thranduil wasted no time making his way down the steps, Galion rushing to keep up with him as they made their way to the front gates. “Is everyone okay?” Are they okay?

“Everyone’s alive.” Those words were less reassuring than they should be. The mirkwood elves had a habit of using the term ‘alive’ rather loosely.

When he reached the entrance, those gathered around instantly parted for him to make his way towards the glimpse of pale hair he’d noticed through the crowd.

None of the patrol had been completely spared, that was certain, as scratches adorned each of their complexions, the darker blood of the spiders splattered over their uniforms.

Healers had already dispersed amongst the warriors, vials of antidote in hand just in case, and he was relieved to see that Legolas had no obvious signs of injury as he drew closer.

Legolas saw him coming and turned to meet him, voice low as he spoke. “There were more than we expected. We weren’t prepared, a second lot ambushed us after the fight had already started.”

Thranduil placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, giving it a light squeeze - a show of affection that still kept a semblance of formality. “You did well.”

He hesitated, not wanting to brush his son off but at the same time needing to see you. Legolas saved him from asking, nodding towards where a healer was bent over a figure on a bench. You, he realized.

“She’s okay.” Legolas murmured. “Just a bit more cut up than the rest of us.” He rolled his eyes playfully. “I’ve been on guard to make sure she didn’t injure herself more running off to find you before the healers got to her.”

Thranduil’s lips twitched, holding back a smile as he made his way towards you, Legolas following behind.

It didn’t take long for you to look up at the familiar footsteps, a smile spreading across your lips despite the sting as the healer cleaned up a deep wound across your shoulder.

When the healer took her hands from you to rummage through her supplies you immediately took the chance to push yourself to your feet, moving around her and meeting Thranduil half way, his arms naturally finding their way around your waist as you stumbled slightly.

He smirked slightly looking over your shoulder. “I do believe Lothael is about to scold you for using her distraction to your advantage.”

Your healer, Lothael, had followed you, rolling her eyes. She gave Thranduil a wry look. “Yes, well, I can’t imagine that the king wants his queen-to-be to bleed out on the floor.”

Thranduil’s eyes quickly ran over your wounds, double-checking that you weren’t in imminent danger of bleeding out, and lingering on the deeper ones before looking back at Lothael. “I can take it from here, thank you.”

He knew that technically the healer had more better skills than him in the art, but at the same time, he also knew that the only way to completely reassure himself that you weren’t about to bleed out was if he did it himself - he needed to know that he’d checked and taken care of your wounds with his own hands.

It was only when the two of you had left the view of the other elves, leaving Legolas in charge, that you let yourself lean against the wall with a groan, the pain that had been throbbing in your leg since the adrenaline had worn off on the walk home forcing you to give it a break.

Thranduil, whose hand had been resting on your back, ready to steady you at any moment should you need it, gave you a worried look as you pulled away from him to use the wall as support.

“I’ll be fine,” You muttered, grimacing. “It’s just demanding a rest.”

Thranduil gave you a calculated look, and before you could say anything or even begin to wonder what he was thinking, he swept you off your feet, your arms automatically going around his neck as he carried you bridal-style down the hall.

You couldn’t help but let out a giggle, a smile crossing his own face at the sound. “What are you doing?”

He glanced down at you, a small smile dancing across his lips. “Why, I’m carrying to your chamber’s, my lady. Valar knows you’d collapse halfway there if I didn’t.”

You laughed before quieting down and leaning your head against his chest. “I’m tired, Thranduil.” You murmured, the toll today had taken on your body catching up to you.

He looked at you with a soft look reserved only for you. “I know, Meleth. You can rest soon.”

You sighed, staying silent as he reached your shared chambers and laid you on the bed, letting you sink into the silks and furs that covered the mattress.

You had started to drift off when you suddenly felt something cold seep into one of the deeper wounds, pressure keeping it there. You jerked away from the cold sting, but a hand held you in place, and you felt Thranduil’s silky hair brush against your skin as he lent over you to brush his lips against your forehead.

“I’m just cleaning them.” He murmured. “Relax.”

You let out a shuddering breath as he moved the cloth, a few tears slipping down the side of your face as he continued on to stitch the wound closed.

Your strong facade you’d kept up in the entrance and on the journey home hope had dissipated, as had your energy now that you were with the one you didn’t have to act strong for.

Thranduil whispered apologies and reassurances as he cleaned and bandaged the rest of your wounds with a gentleness that could only come from a lover’s hands, occasionally wiping the tears from your face and running his fingers through your hair at a particularly harsh sting.

It felt like hours later when the last wound was taken care of and you heard the quiet clink as Thranduil set the glass bottle of ointment aside.

He remained seated at your size, gentle fingers brushing over your face and hair as he gazed down at you, his own fears put aside now that he’d tended to you.

You held his gaze, relishing the cool touches until you felt your eyes begin to droop, and the last thing you were aware of was the feather-light lips that brushed against yours and the whispered, “Sleep, Meleth.” as you drifted off, Thranduil’s fingers soothingly carding through your hair.

Taglist:

@fizzyxcustard @bookworm-with-coffee

#imagines #the hobbit #female reader #thranduil #thranduil x reader #thranduil imagine #thranduil x you #my writing

[walesfootball]

She - Alexia Putellas x Reader (PART 1)

To celebrate me going to see Harry Styles tonight I wanted to post this Alexia fic I've been writing. I kinda forgot that I'd written this so here ya go! I'll try to get the next parts out quick (if you like it), haven't planned where it's going but we shall see. Let me know what you think!

You and Alexia have been friends for a few years. You’d met when you worked a summer job in Barcelona’s kit department. You’d get everyone’s kit ready and clean everything from their kits, training kits, and their boots. The both of you started talking one day, and have been close friends ever since.

You were sat sprawled out on Alexia’s sofa, as the latter was in the kitchen making the both of you a drink. All week, Alexia seemed stressed out, which was unlike her. You had asked her every day if she was okay, but nothing back. A simple ‘fine’ or ‘of course’ and she’d change the subject. You knew there wasn’t much you could do when Alexia got like this. Just to leave her alone and she’d open up when she’s ready. That didn’t help your frustration.

Alexia came into the living room, putting the drinks on the coffee table in front of the sofa, and grabbed your legs to sit them on top of her lap.

“Um… I’ve been wanting to ask, but… I don’t know how to say it properly.” Alexia started. You propped up on your elbows, eyebrow quirked up in interest.

“What is it?” You impatiently said.

“You see. It’s complicated.”

You waited for her to continue, but Alexia said nothing. She played with her fingers, while her eyes were fixed on the drinks on the coffee table.

“Hey, look at me,” You tapped her gently on her forearm to get her attention, “whatever it is, however complicated it may be, everything’s going to be okay. I’ll make sure of it. And you’re really scaring me.”

Alexia finally looked towards you, now propped up on your hands to get a better look at Alexia’s face.

“I have a wedding to go to next week.”

“Is that it?”

“You didn’t let me finish!” Alexia joked, chuckling a little at your impatience.

“Sorry, sorry. So you’ve been invited to a wedding. What’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing. But… I might’ve told my mother that I have a date to go with me.”

“You didn’t tell me you’ve been dating someone!” You said, a little hurt that Alexia would keep something like this from you.

“That’s the thing… I haven’t. But I told my mother I have because she says it’s been too long since I’ve found someone.”

You looked at Alexia’s nervous disposition. It’s fair to say that over the past few years that you’ve known each other, you had developed some feelings for Alexia. Ingrid always told you to tell Alexia how you felt. You’d made good friends with the Norwegian while working at the kit department in Barcelona too. She was the one who coaxed the crush out of you, telling you she had a feeling it was Alexia with the way you'd blushed when Alexia even looked at you.

To think Alexia was dating someone else without telling you broke your heart. But losing Alexia as a friend because you couldn’t control how you felt, now that hurt more. So you’d never told her.

“Okay, so you’re looking for a date? How about you ask Patri?”

“They’ve met Patri and know she’s dating someone else.”

“Alright, well how about Jenni?”

“Why would I ask my ex to be my fake girlfriend to a wedding?” Alexia asks incredulously.

“I mean, it would be kinda believable. They’ll just think you got back together.”

“She’s in Mexico. And I’m not asking Jenni!”

“What about-?” You were stopped in your tracks as a pillow crashed into your face.

“I was going to ask you!”

“What? Really?” This shocked you. ‘Fuck! She likes me too,’ you thought! 'Yes! I don’t need to say anything.’

“Well, my family have never met you. You know me very well. I’ll just say we’ve been dating for a while, but I wanted to make sure it was serious,” You realised what Alexia was saying. She wanted to pretend you were dating, “I can’t find someone in a week to go with me to a wedding. And my family knows the team.”

“This is absolutely insane, you know that right? I’m a really bad liar, Ale. I can’t pull this off!” You had always been the worst liar, your anxiety crept up and the truth needed to be said.

“I know but you’re the only one I trust to do this! Por favor, Y/N. I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do.”

“Have you tried maybe being honest?” You knew it sounded harsh, but you didn’t think acting like a couple and everyone else thinking you were a couple was a good idea, especially when you fancied the pants off Alexia. Who wouldn’t? Alexia is the first thing you think of when you wake up and the last thing you think of when you go to sleep. You’re constantly thinking of what Alexia is doing if she’s eaten, if she’s okay. All of the cliches to do with liking and loving someone, you’ve been there.

“I can’t be honest with my family now, they think I’m really happy with this girl! The only person in my life who I can do this with is you.” Alexia pleaded with you. You looked at her for a few seconds, thinking about how bad of an idea this was. You then saw the look of desperation in her eyes and knew you had to do it.

“Well, aren’t you in luck that I’m available next week?” Alexia pounced on you, her arms around your neck and her legs on either side of your body. You held her back with your arms around her waist, nervously.

Alexia pulled back to look at you, with a coy smile on her face, “Gracias. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Anytime. So who’s wedding is it?”

———

Over the next week, you and Alexia went shopping for new outfits for Alexia’s cousin Maria’s wedding. Alexia always found a way of thanking you for going with her as a date. This never settled your nerves.

“I just don’t know what to do, or how to act. I can barely talk without sounding like an idiot.”

“You’re overthinking this. Wouldn’t it be nice if you just told her?” You looked at Ingrid in disgust. This was the irony of being a bad liar, you kept her biggest secret from one of her best friends, and you don’t know how.

You and Ingrid had met up in a nearby cafe in Barcelona. It was mainly Ingrid laughing at your inevitable breakdown about going to a wedding with your crush and having to act like a couple.

“Yeah good idea, Ingrid. Hi Ale, for the last year now I’ve realised I’ve got a fat crush on you and I would love to do couple-y things with you, but I’ve been too much of a pussy to tell you and- oh, damn, okay, you don’t want to be my friend anymore because you don’t see me in that way. Oh no, I’ve lost my best friend. I’m such an idiot. I could’ve just avoided all of that by not telling her. The end.”

Ingrid sat on the opposite side of the table, with her hand holding the right side of her face, smiling at this massive idiot in front of her, “You’re so annoying sometimes.”

“Love isn’t as easy as people make it out to be. It’s very fucking difficult, Ingrid.”

“I know, but I have a feeling she likes you too.”

“You have a feeling? You know, I’m pretty sure Adolf Hitler had a feeling things would work out for him in World War 2, but look what happened there.”

“I can’t believe you just compared me to Hitler. But! My point is, I’ve seen the way she looks at you, the way she always keeps her eye on you at parties because she knows you don’t like big crowds, the way she’s always at your house or you're at hers, the way she ran after training ended because she didn’t want to be late to meet up with you. The list is endless.”

You stared at Ingrid, a look of interest yet still undecided. “A lot of friends do that though.”

“Do they?! You were 10 minutes late meeting up with me.” Ingrid countered your argument.

“I was… on the phone with Ale,” Ingrid looked at you in an ‘I-told-you-so’ way, “No! You can’t do that! I can’t tell her! This is a massive deal for her to turn up to this wedding with a date on her arm, and I’m lucky enough to pretend to be her date. I would love for it to be more, but I am not ready to lose Alexia. I can’t. I don’t want to ruin things in case she only sees me as a friend. And I hear you, she might like me too. But what if she doesn’t? I care for her too much to let her down.”

“Okay. But after you come back from this wedding, and you tell me you’re dating, I can’t wait to say I told you so.” Ingrid leaned back in her chair, with her arms and legs crossed, trying to prove a point.

“Alright, whatever.” You gave up trying to plead your case.

———

You and Alexia were out for dinner a day before meeting Alexia’s family. Alexia wanted to introduce you to her sister, Alba, and her mother, Eli, before the wedding ceremony. Both girls were nervous about the occasion; not just about you meeting Alexia’s family for the first time, but about acting and going as a couple.

“So what are the rules exactly? How are we going to make this believable?” You asked, as you took a sip of the water and placed it back down on the table.

“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.” Alexia shrugged.

“Well, I guess we hold hands and stuff?” You said in an unsure tone, almost scared to bring some things up.

“It shouldn’t be too hard. We hug all the time and hold hands. We’ve shared the same bed a lot.”

“What about… kissing? That’s what couples do, right? They kiss. Do we… you know? Do that?”

“I think. Couples kiss, sí?” Alexia nervously played with the food on her plate, not wanting to look up at the judgment in your eyes.

If Alexia did look up at that moment, she would’ve seen a pair of eyes just as nervous as hers. If not more. Eyes that portray the amount of love you felt for this woman, and how much you wanted this to go right for Alexia, even if it meant ignoring your strong feelings.

“Have you told your mum about me?” You asked, curious to know what the woman you've heard so much about thinks of Alexia’s new girlfriend.

“Sí, I told her yesterday I’m taking you. She can’t wait to meet you.”

Alexia had decided it was going to be you she was going to take to the wedding, even before she asked her friend. She wanted more than ever for you to agree to this, not only to get her mother off her back on dating but as a way of trying to pick up the courage to tell you that she’s liked you ever since she saw you folding up her training kit. Alexia will never forget the day you met. Y/N folding everyone’s kit while singing along to ‘Sign Of The Times' by Harry Styles… very loudly. Alexia had stopped in the door as soon as she heard the massive crescendo of a voice, filling up the room as if an audience was watching. Your earphones clearly on full blast. Alexia stood there with a smile on her face, waiting until the song had finished. After a pause, the Spaniard thought it was safe to enter the room to ask you a question about her kit. Until you had started singing another Harry Styles song, ‘Carolina’, very loudly again. Clearly a massive Harry Styles fan, a thought she had while watching you sing and dance. She remembers you jumping in surprise as you turned around to find an entertained look on the other girl’s face and then bursting out laughing. And the rest, as they say, is history.

“Ale, are you sure you want to do this? If it’s too much-”

“It’s not too much! I’m just nervous about everything.” Alexia had turned pale at the thought of lying to her mum and sister, people who she too considers her best friends. Alexia had always been very close to her family, but her mum wanted to see her happy with someone.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about. It’ll all work out. We’ll meet your family, go to the wedding, and come back. It’s done.” You explained, making it sound like the easiest thing in the world, even if in both your minds it was the hardest.

“You make it sound so easy. I know they’ll love you as much as I do, it’ll be hard for anyone to dislike you.”

You blushed, masking it by taking a sip of your drink. Alexia saw the way she had affected you, and smiled down at her feet, proud of herself.

———

The next morning, Alexia drove the both of you to her mum’s house. After dinner last night, she felt ready for the day ahead. The both of you knew each other very well, how could this go wrong? You didn’t sleep at all after dinner on the other hand. You thought you’d do something wrong or say the wrong thing. Something had to go wrong during your time of fake dating. Something!

As the car stopped in front of the house, Alexia grabbed your hand which was sitting in your own lap, nervously fidgeting with the hole in your jeans.

“You’re okay. I’m here. I won’t leave your side.”

You nodded, Alexia giving you the confidence to open the door and get your and Alexia’s bags from the boot. Alexia opens the door of her childhood home, her sister almost sprinting out to greet her.

“Lexia! Where is she? Where is this girl you’ve been hiding from us?!” Alexia went red from the attention as Alba shook her with annoyance at not having met her new girlfriend.

“Nice to see you too. She’s getting the bags.” Alexia smiled at her sister, almost excited at the way Alba called you her girlfriend.

“Charming. I like it.”

You rounded the car with two bags in your hands, smiling at the siblings. Your cheeks flushed from the heat.

“Hello, I’m Y/N. It’s so lovely to meet you.”

“Alba. We’ve heard so much about you!” Alba hugged you straight away, not giving you a second to breathe as the bags dropped to the floor in surprise.

Alexia’s mother was next to come through the door. “Come in! My name is Eli, Alexia talks about you all the time!”

“She does?”

“We’ve only just found out you were her girlfriend this whole time!”

Alexia interrupted, seeing the scared look on your face of disappointing your ‘girlfriends’ mother almost instantly, “No, we’ve been dating for a little over 8 months, mama. I didn’t tell you about her sooner because I didn’t want to mess anything up with her.”

“Well, I don’t think I’ve ever heard Alexia being so serious about a girl before. Not even Jenni.” Her mother said before returning back to the house with a spatula in her hand.

Alexia put her face in her hands, horrified her mum said that. You laughed as you pulled Alexia’s wrists down gently to see her flushed cheeks. Alexia found a taunting smile on your face.

“Your mum’s really cool.”

“You would say that. She likes to make fun of me like you do.”

You laughed at the teasing tone you were given. You grabbed the bags from the floor and winked at Alexia, almost to say ‘You’re doing good’. Alexia felt her shoulders drop as the nervousness seeped away bit by bit.

Alba watched the both of you the whole time. The eye contact, the lingering touches, and the joy on her sister’s face when you teased her. You walked through the door and placed the bags in the living room.

Alba pulled Alexia back, “I like her already.”

They both continued on into the house with Alexia biting her lip. Of course, they’d like her best friend, you were perfect, Alexia thought.

———

The evening was spent around the dining table, the four of you chatting, mainly about this new relationship they’d only found out about a few days ago.

“So who made the first move? Tell me everything!” Alba excitedly said.

You and Alexia looked at each other straight away. You didn’t talk about this. You both chuckled awkwardly to see who would make the first move.

“Well…” You started, with an unsure smile on your face, another awkward laugh escaping from your mouth as you looked toward Alexia again.

“You’re better at telling this story, mi amor.” Alexia challenged, knowing this would infuriate you.

“Am I?” You said sarcastically.

“Sí. She loves telling this story.” Alexia smiled devilishly, keeping her laughter in. This is fun, she thought.

“Well… we got really drunk one night. Just the two of us. And Alexia asked me to dance. She knows how much I love Harry Styles, so we danced to ‘Sweet Creature’. And after the song finished, she told me she liked me more than a friend and I felt the same way too. And that’s that.” You smiled at how well you came up with that story. If in doubt turn to Harry Styles, it’s always been your life motto.

“That’s really cute!” Alba cheesed.

“And you’ve been together for 8 months? How did you keep that from us?” Eli said.

“I told you, mama. Y/N means a lot to me and I didn’t want to say something too early and we break up.”

Alba and Eli were beaming toward the both of you. You reached down for Alexia’s hand in her lap and intertwined your fingers to relax her, offering a small smile. Alexia looked over and gave you a grateful smile. It was only the both of you in the room when you looked at each other.

“You two are so cute! When is your wedding?!” Alba exclaimed.

You all laughed as you finished their dinner.

———

As night fell, Alexia took you up to the bedroom. The double bed waiting for you, along with an en suite.

“This is nice. Beautiful view of the garden too.” You said, as you put the bags down on the bed and made your way to the window.

“There’s only one bed, so we’ll have to share. Is that okay?” Alexia said nervously.

“Like you said, we’ve shared a bed loads of times before. It’s just that your mum and sister will probably think we’re having sex.”

Alexia laughed nervously, “Thank you for this. I mean it.”

“You’ve said thank you about a million times. And I always tell you that it’s okay. I don’t mind. Your family is lovely.”

“Were we believable, you think?”

“Did you hear my story about how we got together? I’d say that was pretty believable.”

“That actually happened. Just without the kissing part.”

“What can I say? I’m the best.” You exclaimed as you climbed onto the bed with your arms raised above your head to prove a point.

“Get down from there. You’ll hurt yourself.” Alexia laughed as she looked up with wonder in her eyes.

“Admit that I’m the best. And then I’ll get down.”

“No. I’m not giving you that satisfaction.”

“But it’s true. What did you call me before? In Spanish? A ‘mi amor’? Whatever that is, I’m your that.”

“You don’t know what it means?” Alexia crossed her arms.

“I don’t speak Spanish, you know this. Only the basics. I speak enough to get some food in me.”

“You are the worst. Not the best.”

It was your turn to cross your arms, trying to feign annoyance. Alexia smiled up at you once more.

“Come down, amor.”

“Help me down.”

Alexia holds onto your waist as you hold onto the Spaniard’s forearms for balance. Neither of you broke the eye contact that was being held at this moment. As you stepped down in front of Alexia you felt nervous. Alexia looks deep into your eyes, biting her bottom lip to stop her from doing anything stupid. You look up at the slightly taller girl, eyeing her lovingly, and look back down as you felt a blush creeping up your neck and in your cheeks.

Alexia leans her forehead on your left shoulder, burying her face in your neck. Alexia chuckles suddenly, “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Neither can I.” You tucked herself in Alexia’s neck too, a place which always brought comfort to you whatever you were feeling. You began playing with the baby hairs, poking out from Alexia’s ponytail, calming her down instantly. Alexia’s arms circle around your waist in an effort to bring you closer, burying her face deeper into the crook of your neck, if that was even possible.

“Come on, I’m tired. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.” You said, pulling away from Alexia, despite the comfort.

#woso imagine #women’s football #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #woso x reader #woso

[missgeniality]

Strip Lawyer (m)

“Rules are for children.” - Joe Abercrombie

➺ Banner: The supremely talented @dnrequests 💛

➺ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Tutor!AU, Lawyer!AU

➺ Genre: Smut

➺ Rating: +18

➺ Word Count: 8.4k

➺ Summary: Years ago, as Jungkook’s tutor, you played a game – but not to completion. Today, he does the teaching. And he’s intent on reaching the finale.

➺ Warnings: dom!reader x sub!jk then dom!jk x sub!reader, strip poker but education, implied consent, little power imbalance, seggsual tension, restraints, oral sex (m&f receiving), grinding, jungkook is a tease as always, dirty talk, kissing, alcohol, boob play ehehe, fingering (f receiving), pussy slap, spitting, tearing clothes, biting, degradation, unprotected sex, jk cums on her ass, cum eating (kind of)

➺ Cross Posted: AO3

➺ Author’s Note: This was supposed to be @taegularities‘s birthday gift because she asked for Lawyer!AU - but in true Siya fashion, it went out of control. So... here you go LOL happy buttday to youuu, hope you enjoy ittt 💛💛 The biggest thanks to @jimilter because she is the reason I did not delete the draft, thank you so much for all your help in fixing this mess, love you so muuucchh 💛 Also huge huge huge thanks to @alpacaseoks​ for helping me with the flow and giving me pointers in a big chunk of the fic, I appreciate it so much! 💛 Disclaimer: I am not a law student in any way so please don’t expect any accuracy. Just enjoy the sex, I’m begging. Let me know what y’all think, and as always, thank you for being here! 

ɴᴀᴠɪɢᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ  

“You’re not serious.”

If only he knew. 

“So. Serious.” You emphasise your words with a slap on his shoulder, “I won’t have it on my honour that a student under my tutelage has been failing the same subject for two years.” You raise an eyebrow at the hunched figure ahead, and knock on the table to bring his attention up to you. 

“So you’ll just… Strip? Everytime I answer correctly?”

“That’s right,” you confirm, “and for every wrong answer, you strip for me. Simple.” You give Jungkook the widest grin you ever have, possibly too wide, because he only hunches further into his seat. 

And it finally bursts your bubble.

“I mean… I’m just–you don’t have to do this, okay?” You scramble up from your seat, opening the distance between you two – placing yourself a good few feet away from the boy. “I was just… having fun with the idea—” With stumbling haste you continue to comfort him, “I jus–isn’t this like classic nerd porn that you’d watch?”

And you remember that comforting a fellow human being isn’t really your forte. You’re ready to gather all your belongings that are spread across the table, run away, change your name and hope like hell he doesn’t file you up for harassment. 

Thankfully, your shabby attempt at damage control does ease Jungkook, and his back straightens a little bit as he brings himself to look at you.

“Not wrong,” he gives you a grin, “I–I really like that, umm, idea. Yes, let’s do it.”

He trails off, but not without a smile of burgeoning confidence – apparently not enough to finish that sentence with, but enough to give you one strong nod – and you have the affirmation you need. More affirmation is given by his not-so-subtle shift in his seat, that shows you something was making its presence known in the confines of his pants.

“All right, let’s start this. International Law and Relations is pretty easy, and actually has very interesting sub-topics – you can take subjects on this topic when you move to the next semester,” you pause flipping through the textbook and give your tutee, “if you move to the next semester. Thankfully, this year you have multiple choice questions, so… You better fucking pass, you hear me?!”

Jungkook only gives you a sheepish grin, his hands fiddling with each other.

“Okay, we’ll go through chapters randomly. Your first one – what is a country’s exclusive economic zone?”

On completing the question, you look up and await an answer – but the doe eyes that greet you back showcase that behind them, there is a lot of emptiness. Jungkook’s eyebrows are raised as he tries his best to push out any answer, any words, just anything from his brain. Alas, after two minutes, you give up.

“Okay, you’re going first then,” your voice breaks his intense thought process, and he flashes you a wide grin. 

“Socks count right?” He pulls off the socks on both his feet, and wiggles his toes against the fresh air. 

“Why you wear socks in this weather, it’s beyond me,” you huff an exasperated sigh, “but okay. One down. Exclusive economic zones are the sea-areas where coastal states have the right to exploit resources for economic gains. Think fisheries, mining, construction, artificial islands, and other endeavours. Capisce?”

“Got it. Next!”

“Love the enthusiasm,” you grin at his eager look, and open the textbook to a random page again, “okay, same chapter, what are the three international air laws?”

“Oh, I know this! I read thi–uhh, Public International Law, Private International Law…”

“Yesss? And?”

“Why is my brain saying Supernatural Law?”

One look at his bamboozled face and you burst out laughing. “Supranational Law! Not Superna—” Your persistent giggles have you dropping the book onto your lap, hands rushing to wipe a tear that makes its way down your cheek. You can see a bleary Jungkook, following suit in your snickers, his shoulders rising up – it’s a very cute view. 

No, Jungkook is not your type of guy – and you will not make him. 

You’re actually supposed to wrap up this session with Jungkook earlier than usual – because a party doesn’t wait for anyone – and last night Baekhyun told you he’d pick you up. When you asked him whether the party was, he only sent you a smirking emoji as a response. 

Rude boys are your standard, and Baekhyun fits it to the tee. Jungkook, not so much.

But now you’ve started something that can’t possibly end soon. 

“Okay, next item!” You aim to be loud, to quell that finagling thought in your mind.

“But—” Jungkook sputters out, “but I got that right?! Come on, it was close enough!”

You shake your head. “A hundred, or nothing. Chop chop,” you wave a gratuitous hand at his torso – and he obliges with a sigh.

God damn. 

The gamer nerd, who probably doesn’t see the light of day – his body is way too beautiful for his character arc. You scan his whole chest with your glaring beam, pecs ogling back at you – totally unaware of how Jungkook is doing the same to you – it takes considerable effort for you to rip your eyeballs out and get them to focus back on his face. 

You take a large, audible gulp to facilitate speech, “Okay, didn’t know that’s what would greet me – moving on—”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean absolutely nothing, you closeted hottie,” you attempt to close that argument with that sole compliment – after all, you do have a tutoring responsibility – but Jungkook’s singular raised eyebrow makes you wonder if that party is really worth it.

Oh no, you need to make him pass this.

“Let’s move on now, or else you won’t ever move on from college,” you deflate whatever ego-ballooning Jungkook has – his bare shoulders slumping back to his hunched posture – and you internally grin. 

Picking up the thick textbook, you flip through to find a new page laced with information.  “Name three international hybrid tribunals, and their subject matter.”

“Okay okay, I just did this,” Jungkook starts off with confident, “the Special Tribunal for Lebanon, which is for the the prosecution of the people responsible for the assassination of the Lebanese Prime Minister, Special Court for Sierra Leone—” he pauses to take a deep breath and you watch his chest heave with an intent gaze, “which was for the Sierra Leone civil war, and finally… What was the–uhh– for the Kosovo War… Yes! Yes! Kosovo Specialist Chambers! The Kosovo Liberation army was put on trial,” he ends with a gleeful smile.

“There you gooo! See, you can totally do this,” you give him an encouraging nod, “what do you want me to take off?”

“O-oh, umm, your top?”

“Sure,” setting the book on the table, you slip out of your camisole, shaking your head to send your hair back to their place, “shall we move on?” 

But moving on gets tougher when he eyes you like that. The air gets denser within your space, the room feeling too small to escape the tension, and too big to act upon it. You remind yourself multiple times – this chocolate boy isn’t going to be the end of your night – your night ends on Baekhyun’s unspoken promise – but the eclipsing eyes that follow your neon bralette are pushing your brain to reconsider how you write this evening. 

“You–uh–you are really hot,” Jungkook’s fumbling words finally reach you.

You chuckle, stifling the urge to egg him on. “Thank you,” is your quiet response, and you both do well to stifle the snowballing tension.

“Okay, now I’m way more motivated to get my answers right,” he exclaims with vigour, and the two of you trudge forward, keeping up this charade of studies. 

Many questions down, and you’re at quite the standstill. 

Jungkook sits on his chair, not an inch of clothing on his body, stark naked – and you are about to lose your bra. 

Apparently he can apply himself real well when there are lewd incentives at the end of the rainbow. You circumvented the inevitable, counting riddance of jewellery and accessories as stripping – but now you’re out of options. Jungkook’s lips – pulled into a tender smirk that isn't racy – don’t threaten to sweep you off your feet – but fuck, they still get to you. Supple, with the slightest hint of moisture making his waterline glisten… you ache to taste them, to run your fingers over them, to drip honey all over them and watch them turn sweeter than ever. 

You need to get on Baekhyun’s dick. ASAP.

“Go on, I know that was right!”

Breaking out of your reverie with a demure huff, you smile your way out of your bra, and you can fully hear the deep inhale that your tutee has to take to this new view. With a brazen look of gloating, you cross your arms, letting your eyes and your cleavage do all the teasing – lest your tongue stumbles over the words and lands in his mouth. 

“Shi–yo–you’re—” Jungkook’s words falter as well, giving you an extra boost of pride. “Fuck, you’re so goddamn hot – I’m sorry, is this the fifth time I’m saying this?”

You laugh with him. “Yeah, probably. Could use a thesaurus.”

“I don’t think my brain will process anything on it. This keeps coming out because I got practice. Said it about a hundred times in my head.”

With your head thrown back, your whole body jiggles in laughter, filling the room with mirth and joy to replace the leaden lust in the air. You bend forward to flick his forehead, knowing full well that the movement just makes your breasts look more enticing; if that was even a possibility. His cock is stiff as iron, and you can fill a drying lake with your current rate of salivation. Both of you clearly recognize that words are flowing slower than before, movements are more calculated than before, and most importantly, eye contact lasts way too long for either of you to ignore. 

“Okay, umm, last question, then I need to be off.” You attempt to bring a close to this increasing strain in your throat, no matter how badly your body wants to delay your departure. “What years did the Hague Conventions take place?”

“I hate these questions,” murmurs Jungkook, “I remember the subject matters of it – it’s not like knowing the exact dates and times will help me avert war.” His pout makes you falter, like there isn’t a fully grown naked man in front of you, like he isn’t testing your limits right now.

“So… No answer?” 

Jungkook shakes his hung head, having given up on finding an answer. “What now, I can’t peel my skin or something,” he starts, a very innocent tone for this ambiance.

“Yeah, I mean, I gotta g—”

“And I’m out of jewellery, too, so—”

“Yeah, it’s cool, I’m gonna head out anyw—”

“You wanna tie me up or something?”

Silence. 

Too long of a silence. 

“I mea—”

“Jeon. Jung. Kook.” Your staccato of words work as a beat, your legs moving in its sync. You bend down for a brief moment to pick up his discarded t-shirt, but the rest of your movement wastes no time in finding a seat on his lap.

His dick presses against your clothed core, imbuing the ache that he currently feels, and goody – you both are in serious pain. And when you lean ahead to gather his hands into a knot on his back, he takes a sharp inhale – your breasts doing everything his dick-led-brain has been wanting for the whole session – pressing against his chest to feel every throb that races through your body.

“You have no filter,” you whisper into his ear, making sure he feels your damp lips move, “do you?”

“N–N–I, me–nngghh,” Jungkook labours through this ordeal, his hips going the extra mile to close the gap between you two. 

When you feel his hardness work against your pulsing clit, it only eggs you further, and the rudderless ship of your resolve yaws out of its lane, finding its anchor in the parted lips in your view.

If your surroundings could combust at the spark that you set off with the kiss, you’d be sitting in a castle of embers, licks of flames being innocent bystanders to the heat that your kiss generates. Your fingertips dig into the nape of his neck, and you swallow his groan with an eager tongue. Without a break, the kiss turns feral. 

You push into his mouth. He returns in kind – although there’s nothing kind about the way he digs his teeth into your lip. The hiss you attempt to release never makes it out to the world – Jungkook is intent on ending this kiss only when the last breaths in your bodies threaten to leave, carrying along with them your consciousness. 

And when that point comes, you part – your head is thrown back, and your hand carded in his hair pulls his back as well. Brisk, shallow breathing is the tune to which you gather your bearings. Your thighs burn for relief, the ache of holding your body in place settling in as the dopamine dies. From your awkward position, you flit an eye towards your partner in crime – and any dopamine that was dying, comes rushing back.

Your hands are still in the lush strands of his hair, and his lidded eyes are bouncing between many areas of view. Your libidinous eyes, your wet lips, your heaving breasts, or the junction of your thighs that give his hardness teasing touches. Maintaining this position, you dig into his cock, your flimsy underwear allowing your arousal to caress against his hot and awaiting length. He groans – it’s animalistic, it’s uninhibited, it’s none of the shy gamer nerd who cowered under the weight of your knowledge. His eyes, fervid, shuttle between all of your exposed skin, finding an anchor, but failing to stop.

“Look at you, is this what you really wanted?” It shocks you how far your voice shakes – what caused it – the kissing, the breathing, or the rock hard cock currently against your throbbing pussy? Who knows. 

“I mean… We wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want this,” Jungkook bites out an answer with great difficulty, “I—I definitely wan—ungh!”

You just can’t resist. His neck. His clavicles. His bobbing Adam’s apple. His chest. His restrained arms making a tireless effort to feel you. You leech onto his sparkling skin, and drag your tongue in the confines – Jungkook’s words transform into unintelligent warble, just the way you like. 

Sliding downward, and acknowledging the slight ‘fuck’ that Jungkook exhales with a smirk, you lodge yourself directly in front of his broad, heaving chest. The position is awkward — a lot of your body weight lays on your hands that balance you on the chair’s seat – but your current view makes any pain go away. 

“Could this be the reason,” you land a soft peck in the middle of his chest, “why your grades are like this,” trailing your path with your nose, you move left, “we could have just gotten this over with,” you end the sentence with a swirl of your tongue around his already pebbling nipple. 

He hisses a string of unintelligible curses, arching into your ministrations, “Yo–you’d have d–done tha—” His train of thought ends with an audible gasp when you engulf the nipple in your mouth.

“For my tutee,” you release his nipple with a pop and look back up at his eager-to-please-face, cupping a cheek, “anything.”

“Can y—can you get rid of thi–this?” He shakes his bound hands from behind, his shoulder muscles bulging in the movement.

You simply shoot him an innocent look. “But you asked for it, didn’t you?”

“I thought that was the best thing that could happen to me,” Jungkook huffs with a light pout, “right now, I’m regretting it so hard.” As he speaks, you move to trail a soft line of kisses across his chest, reaching his other, neglected nipple. With your eyes locked in with his, you lick around the nub again, enjoying his restrained groans from your vantage.

“You don’t like it? What would you do if you… could touch me?”

“Fuck, I would—I wo—God, I would wrap myself around you… take a big piece of that ass, tear off your fuckin’ underwear… Grab your tits and dig my face into them till it’s time to execute my will—”

You chortle, still busy teasing his chest and making it hard for him to make his words flow. “You don’t need your hands for the last one baby.” 

Your skin rumbles against the loud groans of pleasure that come out of Jungkook when you press his face into your chest, and you feel him frantically lick and suck at your skin, tongue lolling at whatever it could catch a taste of.

“Ahh, this is—making me want some very bad things,” you chuckle at the throes of pleasure he is pushing you under, but are surprised at yourself how much your voice quivers as well. Jungkook makes a show of fighting his restraints; you very well know that you don’t have a sailor’s knot guide on you, and the fight he’s putting up is not more than the fight you had been putting up throughout this evening.

“Bad things?” Jungkook’s breathy whisper brings you back to his lips, and you drop back on his lap, grinding yourself just enough to let your wetness cover his twitching length. “You’re my tutor, I–I’m sure you only want the best for me.”

With your show of repress finally curtained, you drop to your knees, arching your back until you’re face-to-face with his member – tip leaking copious amounts of precum, owing to the hours of tension that you put him through. Jungkook’s thighs tighten under your enrapt gaze, and his staccato breathing is music to your ears. 

“Well, since I am your tutor,” you preen before you drag your tongue around the base of his dick, “and since I want only the best for you,” you drag your tongue up his muscle in one long stroke, “let me give you the best that I have.”

You wrap your lips around him thinking about how sweet he looks. You draw figures with your tongue thinking about how he's absolutely not your type. You suck more of his length into you thinking about how his moans differ from your average partner. So sweet. So pure. So untainted. 

So, so not for you.

Perhaps sweet is what you nee—

“I’m gonna cu—” 

The shrill ring of your phone pierces through Jungkook’s uncontained moans as he empties into your mouth recklessly. With your eyes closed, you try your best to savour the crisp, salty taste, letting your tongue cheekily lap at his member until you feel him shudder under your stimulation. Satiated, you get to your feet, looking eye to eye with the doe-eyed monster – who has the gall to look so pure even now, hands tied, balls empty.

“I should… Get that.” 

Unsurprisingly, Baekhyun is pissed that you kept his premium cock waiting at your doorstep, and you appease his injured ego while finding your clothes and bearings. Jungkook relieves himself of the ‘restraints’, eyes following your disrobed body as it finds its modesty back, piece by piece. 

“Okay… my phone, my book, my jewellery… I think I got everything,” you announce to the small, overheated room. “Jungkook. Good luck, this is the one thing you gotta pass, make sure you reread chapters 8 to 11, don’t blindly mark something because it sounds reasonable because nothing in this world is, make sure you have eno—”

“But! Listen—” His voice, still so sweet, not a hint of demanding assertion in his tone, just plain and beautiful pleading. “Wh–when can we… Umm when can we m–meet again?”

Ugh, your heart. 

“Listen, I’m going away on vacation, my exams are over,” with a mildly heavy heart you try to explain to him without rushing, “that’s why this was our last class. And after that, I’ll be moving away. But!” With a spring in your step you open his door to let yourself out. “Keep in touch! Keep texting me, okay?” With your second shoe on, you stand at the stairs leading you out of his apartment, and look at him for one last word.

And you see his beautiful body and almost crumble back into his apartment. 

“Yeah… Will do, bye!” He pulls himself together and grants you a bright, guilt-free smile.

So sweet, even when you’re blowing him off. So, so sweet. 

But you don’t do sweet. So accepting his goodbye, you run like a deer being chased by the hungriest predator, towards the spice that awaits at your door.

Damned professional attires. Why can’t they look good without having to be tended to every fucking day? 

You curse yourself for the cup ramen breakfast that ruined your only good shirt, owing to which you have this stainless but wrinkled shirt on you. It is very out of place, the lush lobby walls making you feel like every crease on you is magnified by a thousand. 

It’s obviously not the shirt that is making your stomach gurgle. It is the upcoming meeting that is creating turmoil in your insides, part dread and part excitement.

“He will see you now.”

This guy has a receptionist and an assistant. Why is he so boujee? One look at his office door and you already know – this meeting will not go as per plan.

And when you push the heavy-set mahogany door, and take the man sitting at the baroque desk, silhouette highlighted by the clear night sky behind him – you’re certain this night was made for trouble. 

“Ah, look who it is.” 

That voice. So different from the last time you spoke. Gone is the tender, dulcet voice of his, gone are his soft, vulnerable eyes, and gone is the benevolent disposition that he carried around with pride.

As he takes a good, slow look at you, assessing you from top to bottom, gleaming with mischievous confidence, you shuffle in discomfort at all this directed display of interest. The million twinkles in eyes have coagulated to turn into a ball of inferno. With that blaze, he drags his eyes all over you, tracing your contours with the pens of his gaze, making you feel nails and needles through your spine. Unabashed. Doesn’t care that you’re waiting to take a seat, doesn’t care about your obvious discomfiture, just holding you at your place like a puppet to his watchful leer. The black-on-black suit fits his body like a dream, and the things you want to do to him are straight out of a nightmare.

“Please, why are you still standing?” His assessment complete, he waves an arm to the plush leather seats at your disposal. “Have a seat.”

Moments of uncomfortable silence pass by you, but only you seem bothered by it. You hate how fidgety you are right now, showing your cards so plainly. But truth be told, you have no cards to show. You’re here for his help, and there’s no game to be played with him.

“You’ve done well for yourself,” you offer, making a general gesture to show his entire office space. You could fit nineteen of your cubicles in here, and still have space to waltz around. Your incessant jumping from one firm to another, attempts at finding footing wherever you land but ultimate dissatisfaction with whatever was presented to you led to a not-so-stellar career, and tonight, to this office. 

“Thanks.” He offers nothing more. And his lack of words definitely stings. 

How did someone who breezed through law school end up like this?

More importantly, how did someone who was barely passing subjects under you end up in a position of such power?

And most important of them all, how did you end up being at his mercy?

"So tell me,” he begins once again, bursting your bubble of self-detestation, “how can I help you?"

You take a deep, rich breath and start. "I'm assuming you read my email, so I just nee—"

"You're gonna have to pause right there. I didn't." A simple response, with a simple smile, and you simply want to crawl into a hole and never see sunlight ever again. Jungkook doesn’t even try to explain himself out of this – no excuse or reasons given as to why the email remains unread. And as happenstance would have it, you are in no position to ask him why.

"Very well." You tap the file ahead, taking a deep breath and starting again, "This file should have it all. It’s better if you read through it, I might miss details." 

Jungkook’s extended, bejewelled hand accepts the file, and leafs through the bundle of papers you’ve prepared for him. But that is not what you’re internalising. You're too busy furtively eyeing his bedecked office, the wooden panels offering a private divide between the office space and a separate seating area. The ritzy furniture establishing the space, the lavish lighting giving more depth to the space, the skyline flaunting its glory above it all – you're fraught with uncontrollable envy.

A call to your name jolts you, moving your eyes to him. 

“So do you need me as co-counsel? I hardly think you need the help.”

“Please, don’t patronise me,” you chide him, the repressed irritation showing its face. “I know I’ve not had the best set of years in this field. And I know I fucked up on this one, pardon my French.”

“Well,” he pays no heed to your agitated tone, pushing the file back to you – just enough, so you are forced to get up to reach, “you’re right about that. You fucked up. I can definitely look into this, but I have a heavy workload as it is.” He simply shrugs, a mock-saintly frown on his lips.

What happened to your sugar-cookie boy who would do anything to make you proud? 

Who is this man?

“I know, but I’m—” You swallow everything in you that stops the words, “I’m desperate. This meeting was clearly out of desperation. I know you knew what this was about. Why would you accept an appointment this late if you weren’t going to take on the job?”

“Maybe I just wanted to see you. Maybe I was curious what my tutor was doing, after leaving me high and dry that fateful night.”

He says it with such a harmless smile, like he just announced what he had for dinner. If you weren’t shaken yet, you now are. 

“If I remember correctly, that was not the case. But for now, I’m asking for your help. That’s how I’m doing.”

“Yeah well,” with a smooth move, he gets out of his charcoal seat, and glides towards the tasteful couches placed on the other end of this palatial office, your heartbeat picking up pace from a gentle jog to a frantic pace, “I think I’m entitled to something in return.”

You follow him to the couch across the room, seating yourself on it – and taking a second to enjoy how comfortable it feels. “I literally swallowed your load that night. If anything, I’m the one entitled to this.”

“I’m sure your boy-toy that night gave you everything you needed, didn’t he?”

Deep breath. He remembers the night very well. Too well.

Did you expect that? No. 

Did you want to find out?

Well, why else did you choose his name from a catalogue of high-end lawyers who could have saved your ass in this case?

What’s that saying… Curiosity kills your pus—

“Listen,” you interrupt your own reverie, “you will receive remuneration for your work, my boss is ready to—”

“Nuh–uh,” he tuts, “come on now, we really don’t need to play this cat and mouse game, do we?”

A deep exhale calms your nerves against this burgeoning yet desired situation, and you leave your seat to accept the glass of whiskey he’s offering you. After returning to the couch and gulping the hootch, you meet his accursed, biting gaze. “What can we even wager on like that night? It’s not like I have test questions to ask you anymore,” you throw the ball back into his court, desperately hoping he finds a good enough solution.

“Oh, no, no, no,” he teases you, sliding into the seat – it’s unbearable how good he looks with this confidence. He gets in your space, still holding his undrunk glass of whiskey, peering into your eyes as he makes his proposal. “I think a bit of role reversal will do us good,” he smiles back at you. “Do you good.”

“My definition of good, or yours?”

He smiles at your attempt at feigning confidence. “I don’t think they differ by much.”

In this quietude, the frenetic beating of your heart rings all the way up in your ears. It is a testament to how agog this transformed man leaves you; by the way he speaks, the way he looks, the way he commands your entire being. Words fail you, so you whisper a small ‘yeah’ and nod – you definitely knew where this night was going the moment you called his office, even if your ego strives hard to say otherwise.

“Let’s start simple,” he begins with a slap to his thigh, seating himself comfortably, “where did you go that night?”

What tactic is this? You’re baffled that this man – looking like a Michelin-star-seven-course-meal – cares about that one immaterial night.

Was it really immaterial, though?

Youngling Jungkook was probably offended, you posit to yourself, by the way you left things hanging (pun very much intended). 

“How would you know if I lie?”

“I’ll decide that.” His eyes add “and you’ll follow.” No room for discussion is provided.

“Right.” You sip on your refilled glass, clearing your throat before you answer, “I don’t know if you know him, Byun Baekhyun.” You look in his eyes for recognition, but you can’t read anything, anything at all. “I had to meet him.”

“To fuck?”

“Well, yes. Drinks and then that.” 

“Okay, I’ll take that.” 

And you’ve passed question one – all your clothing fully intact.

“Next question,” his eyes filled with sensual mirth, “was he any good?”

“Oh my God,” you throw your hands up, ready to leave the seat in a show of exasperation, “are you—is this insecurity? After all these years?”

“Well, I’m asking the questions, so I don’t owe you an explanation,” Jungkook leans into the cushions, his confident manner growing with each passing second, “but you might say, I’m curious.”

A moment of silence passes. 

“Yes.”

“Ahh…” He tuts at you, inching closer until you feel the microfibres of his coat against you, “Wrong answer.”

Of course it’s the wrong answer. 

Byun Baekhyun might have been one of the best fucks of the campus, and you might’ve had a lot of fun with him on erstwhile rendezvouses, but that night wasn’t either of your nights, with him being pissed of at you for making his dick wait, and you having your mind glued on a totally different dick to his. The lie might have been obvious, but the fact that you’re having to accept it right now is making your ears heat up.

You don’t really need to do this.

Oh, but you do.

“Go on,” Jungkook coaxes you with his honey-dripping voice, lidded eyes tormenting you, “you know the rules.”

In the tense air, you take off a bracelet, the fake diamonds leaving a chill on your wrist. After dangling it in his face, you drop it onto the couch seat. 

“Good…” Jungkook teases, wondering which deviation of his brain to follow next. “Next. Did you think about me while getting your mediocre pounding from Baekhyun?”

“Oh my God, no!” Your rude tone is extra sharp, like you didn’t even want to entertain the thought that Jungkook would think – Jungkook would know – that that’s what happened. 

To this date, you do not remember anything of Baekhyun – your memories of that day have been painted with Jungkook and Jungkook alone.

“Come on now,” his smug visage turns ungodly, eyebrow cocked up, “a white lie. Off,” is all he says. 

You bend down to reach for the buckle of your shoe. Owing to Jungkook sitting fairly close, your line of sight is delicious – his taut suit pants defining the thighs that he’s clearly worked for; basically ogling at his thighs and crotch in close proximity. With shaky hands, your shoes finally come off – no thanks to the burst of anticipation flooding your veins. 

“Have you ever thought about us on lonely nights?” The closer he moves, with each syllable of utterance, the farther you feel from a sense of control. 

“No…” Your words stammer, and you mentally give the point to Jungkook. Looking up, you find him smirking at your shrinking stature.

“Ahh… You make it too easy,” he just chides you, and you start slipping out your rings.You’re well aware that you are the one dragging this out – but the “yes” just does not want to grace your lips. 

Maybe because you actually like this game. 

Maybe you’re enjoying this end of the show. 

And maybe, you finally want to see this game to completion. 

“Just so you know,” Jungkook purrs into the shell of your ear, leaving you wondering when he moved so close, “I think about your slick on my cock a lot.”

The desperation in your countenance is so visible, it’s pathetic. You wait in silence for the next question, eager to jump to the finale, but the path to the end is far too enjoyable to skip.

“Do you want to continue where we left off?”

“No.” Your answer is straight, to the point, no embellishments. 

Instead, you let your hands do the talking.

In one smooth action, you unzip your skirt and pull it down, without a prompt from the dastard ogling at you. Every move you make, you feel his stare burn into your skin, countering the chilly air filling the room. You sit back with your legs tightly closed – not out of any false sense of modesty, that has never been your strong suit – but the unceasing throbbing of your clit needs temporary relief or else it will jump out and land into his mouth.

The distance between you two has steeply decreased, and you can’t tell who’s at fault anymore. In any case, this proximity is most welcome, as per the anticipatory goosebumps that decorate your skin. Swirling his yet-unfinished drink in his hand, ice cubes clattering against each other, Jungkook takes your exposed legs in that are only barricaded by your pantyhose. It’s not the best material – you’ve been wearing the same one for a week now, displaying many scratches and tears – but Jungkook’s eyes don’t even seem to register it. 

But what is with this speed? He is fully intent on making every second of your horny existence miserable. In a desperate attempt to get a fraction of his touch, you bring your leg up – making the move as slow and deliberate as possible – landing it on his thigh. The best begging you can do without actually voicing it out.

Jungkook, however, is a man of many talents – ignoring your direct needs being a prime one. After a light sip, he brings his glass down to your leg, the bottom rim touching under your toe – and you hiss at the ice-cold feeling that spreads across your foot, as the condensate spreads its influence. 

“I have so many questions for you…” Jungkook whispers to you, watching you twitch, “but I’m having too much fun right now.”

Just when you begin to ask whether his dictionary reads ‘fun’ differently, he drags his cold glass upward, painfully slow, traversing your foot, then along your shin bone, letting the precipitate draw a path of icy chill on the map of your body. Meeting your eyes to just plant a cheeky wink into your brain, he continues forging ahead – until he can reach mid-thigh. He stops there long enough to hear you hiss – only then do you feel the glass move away. 

If you weren’t already panting, you are now. Very audibly so. It is all you can hear in the room, in fact. 

That is, of course, until Jungkook assaults all your senses by dragging you awfully close to him, extracting a gasp from you – his grip on your thigh is tighter than the band in your stomach begging for a release, and you relish the feeling. 

“Do you, want me,” he says into the miniscule space that’s left between your lips, “to kiss you right now?”

You can’t decide what demands your spotlight; is it his gaze boring holes into your skin, or his lips that are now glistening deliciously?

“No.”

“Hmmn,” Jungkook turns away from you, and you almost rise in alarm – until you register his next actions, “thought so.”

One second to completely sip all of his whiskey. Another second for his lips to land on yours.

Finally.

The fantasies of this night blend into reality, and instead of doing the rational thing – thinking why you ended up like this – you give into the kiss.

Not only does he kiss you hard, like the future of his world depends on it, he also pushes in his undrunk whiskey into your eager mouth. The liquid swirls between the colliding tongues, some leaking out of the corners of your mouth – the rest coating the insides of your cheeks with a lush, rich and robust flavour – flavours that didn’t pop when you drank it from your own damn glass.

You kiss until the whiskey gets drunk – by whom, is a mystery – and before you can tend to the stray drops down your face, Jungkook’s hand grabs your chin to keep you still. 

God, your last kiss was nothing like this. The blood buzzing in your ears is thunderous, reacting to the contradiction between the soft, tender kisses exchanged all those years ago, and the jagged, raw conquering of your lips happening right now. Your roughened lips burn under the remnants of alcohol, but it’s nothing compared to the searing you feel when Jungkook lets his tongue languidly glide against your gnawed skin.

“Now, since it was the wrong answer…” He husks, his fingers moving inward, closer and closer until they land just below your collar, “I have no choice but to—”

One mighty sharp tug – and all the buttons of your shirt have popped, flying all around the two of you. His hands, still clutching the buttonless seams of your shirt, harshly pull you back into him. Lips firmly sealed back onto yours, he sends his hand roaming.

“This is what you needed that night, eh?” With one hand back to digging in your jaw, he mouths the words into your cleavage, teeth digging deep into whatever they can grab, “Sweet boys just don’t cut it for you.” He moves up to the nook of your neck, his other hand slotting between your thighs, “For all the attitude you had back then, all you want then is to be treated like a street slut. And you’re still the same. Whores don’t change.”

Rude boys are still your standard, and Jungkook has become just that.

“Ow—fuck, don’t leave mar–marks, man,” you attempt an angrier voice while avoiding his truth bomb – because yes, aren’t you knocked out, over the moon right now? The voice that emanates is feeble, with no brawn to be found. 

He too, doesn’t pay you any heed – teeth tugging the flesh in his clamp until he can hear you hiss, then letting it go, letting his tongue soothe the sting.

“You can pretend to hate it,” he sneers at you, his low tone whisper sending shivers like a snowy night, “your lips can lie, but your body? From the moment you walked in, I know your pussy’s been screaming to be filled. Just thank your stars I’m generous, huh?”

You’re drunk. On just two fingers of whiskey? That can’t be it. Definitely, it’s the heady concoction of the alcohol and Jungkook’s very able hands – one of which is enjoying the feel of your perking nipple. 

While one hand goes back up to roughly dig into your neck, the confines of your throat feeling the heat of his lust, his other arm wraps holds your back, making sure you don’t lean too back and lose your balance. It’s sweet.

What’s not sweet, however, is how long this is taking.

He pushes you until you’re balancing your head on the armrest, with one knee digging into the cushion beside you, the other firmly planted on the carpeted floor. Within a wink of an eye, he’s moved down – and you feel his tongue play over your bra, teasing your nipples, reminding you of a forgotten (but not really) past – a harsh suckle under your boob releases the trapped moan, but it sounds battered; perfectly showcasing your state of mind.

“How about this,” he whispers, looking up from his actions, “you think I can get you to come without taking anything else off?”

Do you have the mental fortitude to deal with the consequences of your bratty answer? 

“No.”

The fingers fiddling with your bra hooks halt – instead, he descends onto your clothed breast, biting over the fabric, fully knowing that your sensitivity was through the roof. You cuss and moan, growing frustration urging for more, but you do not beg.

“Funny how life changes,” he coos, shifting attention from one boob to the other, “today you’re the one tied down. And lucky for you,” with not a hint of weariness in his voice, “I don’t have to be anywhere, anytime soon.”

No ties, no ropes, no chains – hell, not even that overworn, oversized tee of his – and he’s still so right about it. Not a part of you wishes to move away, your pathetic self just wrapped around his agile fingers. 

Said fingers now hold your cheeks, squeezing until your quivering lips give an opening – and he drops a ball of spit right over. You lay there, entranced, taking what he has to give, your writhing less prominent now. Anything that falls outside the outline of your lips is gathered by his thumb, massaged over your mouth, then inserted for you to suck to your heart’s content. Which you do.

“You’ve shanghed sho mush,” you speak past his thumb; he definitely doesn’t try to make it easier on you, pushing his digit further inside, putting your tongue through a test of endurance.

“So have you,” is his simple response, dragging his wettened thumb across your cheek.

“Not as much as you, for sure.”

“I don’t think the mouthy bitch years ago would suck spit off of my thumb.”

“You don’t know that.” With his eyes widening ever so slightly, you continue, “But surely, the geek from years ago wouldn’t have spit in my mouth in the first place.”

“You don’t know that either.” 

Just when you think you’re done seeing stars with the roof on, Jungkook hooks the band of your bra in his teeth – like the primitive animal that he is – and pulls at it, just to let it snap back at your skin. The unannounced action makes you squeal, even though it didn’t really hurt – he’s got your body so alive, a feather could hurt you if he wielded it.

With the odd, oafish position of yours; one leg on the couch, the other hanging off loose, head balanced precariously on the armrest with your arms dutifully out of his way – you try to get him where you need him, knee nudging his thigh while your hips wriggle under an invisible spell. Finally, he acquiesces, settling down at the couch with your legs unwrapped on either side for his viewing pleasure. His palms squeeze the flesh of your thighs, a small tsk falling off his lips at the touch of your pantyhose.

“Tearing doesn’t count as taking off, right?”

“What?”

You don’t get a response – not in words, atleast. The loud rip that follows is the only answer he graces you with, your worn down pantyhose having its last wear forever. But his easy access only brings you gratitude when two fingers enter the tear in a split second, pushing your underwear inside your sopping core.

“Mmmhh—Fuck!”

Jungkook just laughs at your helpless body writhing beyond control as he explores everything he didn’t have a chance to before. Fingers travelling down, then up, inside, then outside, around and about – everything, only egging you further on. 

“After all these years…” Jungkook purrs, not directly to you, eyes only connected to the juncture of your thighs, “you deserve a good fucking. What should I do, huh? Should I make you come, then drop off the face of the earth?” His tongue swipes the length of your crevice, sending shudders down your thighs. “Or should I spend this whole night doing all the things I’ve been meaning to? Cover you in my jizz and parade you across the office? Show everyone what an excellent tutor you were, and your very innovative teaching methods.”

Your brain has no filter when exposed to the horny, and his last words made it do just that – you latch onto whatever words best serve your purpose. 

“You–you’ve been meaning… To?” 

“Meaning to fuck you against every possible surface of this room,” is what Jungkook says, but with his fingers entering your cunt and exploring about, you don’t register anything. “As a thank you, you know? Meaning to see you fall apart on my fingers, just like this—” He pushes in hard, your pussy throbbing around his digits. “Meaning to cum inside you, over and over again, and have you crawl around this space, dripping everywhere while I sit and watch your sullied body prepare itself to take more.”

Well, the last one is oddly specific. Even more odd is how much more aroused the thought makes you.

“Wow, umm—w–well—” Swallowing the wad of spit accumulating in your throat, you offer, “Since you clearl–ooh, clearly, know how to make me come,” you look him in the eye, tears of desire pooling in the corners of your eyes, “so fucking do it. S–Stop playing around.”

“But with a plaything as sweet as you,” he moves to kiss your clothed pussy, his fingers still playing imaginary music inside your walls, “with a toy as slutty as you,” another kiss, so delicate it hurts you, “hard to not play around.”

Hands unfettered from the mental shackles that Jungkook put on you, you pull him back up to you, lips smushing together once again – your other hand wraps around his wrist, grinding onto whatever surface his palm offers, using him like a glorified sex toy. He grunts hard into you, a vague attempt made at bringing you back under control, but your tongue is beguiling, and he stays under your hold. 

Until he isn’t. 

“A—w—fuck!”

Jungkook’s sadistic streak continues when he frees his wrist from your clutches, and smacks your clit once, twice, thrice – in quick succession. Your nub would buzz if it could, and a string of expletives release from you when he does it again – this time, with a greater backswing. 

With a sharp tug to his still-on blazer, you pull him up. “Fucker,” you sputter, making your first and last request of the night, in a desperate attempt to get the ball rolling, “let me suck your dick.” Your hands already flounder around his crotch, until he pulls them away, back to their previous confinement. In the background, you can hear his belt jingle; but all you can see is his arresting face.

A deep-throated laugh emerges from him, “Wasn’t last time enough?” He coos at your cock-hungry plea, pushing you back down and fiddling with your legs. “Next time, okay?”

“Next ti—uungghh!”

Barely able to complete your showcase of surprise, because this is the way he announces his acceptance – he pushes into your core, without warning, but he receives a warm welcome in the walls of your pussy. 

“We have a lot,” he emphasises with a thrust, “a lot of work to do, don’t we?” He pulls out just enough to leave you whining, then pushes back in with a grunt of satisfaction; his moves are calculated enough to leave you wanting while maverick enough to leave your spine tingling. “And a lot of catching up as well.” He hovers over you after positioning you better, both of your bodies lying along the length of the couch, before getting right back into your gushing entrance.

One particular thrust has you arching up, the shock of pleasure stagnating in your body for a hot second, making your head lag and voice wane. Jungkook sheaths himself completely, before slotting his face in the nook of your neck, heavy breaths licking at your heated skin. Not one to miss an opportunity, you take the lobe of his ear between your lips, letting your teeth graze over the skin.

“Mmmh, yes,” he keens, tilting into your touch, “make it hurt, baby.”

Whether it is the words he uttered, or the way his whisper travels down to your cunt, you dig your teeth into the flesh, immediately rewarded with a mouthwatering flurry of cusses stuttered into your neck. 

“It’s,” Jungkook pulls out of you in an instant, turning you around by your waist, “not,” he pushes your head back onto the headrest, your cheek bulging as you try to get a look at him, “enough.”

And the way he slams back into you, you feel your soul fight your body to escape. You mewl into the deathly quiet, his dogged jackhammering hurtling you towards your most awaited high of the day – hell, the most awaited all these years. He pistons into you, covering every inch of your skin in a sea of flames. Your orgasm finds you like a river in spate, gushing through its path, fighting boulders in its wake, carving its way through your entire body. 

Sounds of the room start feeling like echoes, slapping balls, grunty exhales, a weirdly long cloth rip that does not belong – but your ears are ringing, your mouth is drooling, and your brain is ready to shut down. Being jostled like a muppet feels like home, and you only start waking up when spurts of liquid coat all of your ass, thighs, and slit. 

In true asshole fashion, Jungkook tore all of your pantyhose, fabric loosely hanging on the sides, seams split until all of your ass and thighs were open for his pleasure. 

In truer asshole fashion, Jungkook left you a mess, cum trickling down your glutes, pooling at the bend of your knee.

And in truest asshole fashion, he is wiping his unsullied fingers clean, without a second thought about your current dishevelled disposition.

Ugh. You love to put yourself in a position you can’t get out of.

How the fuck will you get home? This jerk won’t give you a ride. 

Also, none of your bones work. 

You lay your head on the armrest, finding feasible ways out of this situation. It's going to be nice riding the bus with dried cum itching your ass. There must be a washroom in this boujee office, of course. You finally gather the strength to raise your head and look for one – but interception comes sharp and swift.

“Already done, huh?” Jungkook’s fingers press into the nape of your neck, pushing you back down, your tendons feeling the pressure of his stronghold.

“I—” You stutter and stumble again, just like the start of the night, “I thought we—”

“Don’t you remember?”

“What?”

“Hmmmn,” he sponges kisses over your clothed back, making his way downward, “stupid girl said I couldn’t make her come without taking anything off.”

Ah.

Stupid girl did say that.

Stupid girl also has her speaking right revoked right now, because Jungkook is collecting the half-dried cum on your ass with his tongue, awakening your dying senses once again. His final move is a start to the next chapter of your night, as he pushes his tongue into your velvet heat, depositing the cum where it belongs.

“Guess we keep playing, huh?”

Thank you for making it to the end! For more of my writing, find my masterlist here. As always, thoughts and feedbacks are greatly appreciated!    

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