#Also I agree. Fold art shouldn’t be in the story

[kizzer55555]

I suggest doing that first. Otherwise you might accidentally cut out some words that you strung together. I wish you the best of luck!

@kizzer55555 I bought The Hunger Games paperback just to do black out poetry for TB // HA - basically the book Bruce gives Jason.

Only penciled to make sure it’s the way I want but this is fun!

Can’t believe I’m doing all this for a fic lol

[taestefully-in-luv]

Always You | JJK (Nine-pt1) (Final)

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, slight slow burn, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack, lots of drama

Word Count: 13.6k

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol consumption, sexual tension (!!!), mentions of sex, protected sex, jealous!oc, sensual touching, dry humping, oral (female rec.) face riding

Notes: The end is finally here! But no worries I will most likely do drabbles for you guys:) Thank you SO much for reading this story and sending so many loving comments. Enjoy this last chapter of ‘Always You’ and feel free to send me an ask to chat about the story, I LOVE talking with ya’ll!

Taglist: @mooniyooni @thisartemisnevermisses @giadalin @kookiebunny097 @cosmosjk @moonchild1 @just-jeon @anpanman-sonyeondan @starlight-night0 @yessii-i @apollukee @mikasaredscarf1 @kaye-rosales @bunnyjeonjk @dyriddle @hsneptune @betysotelo18 @aclowe13 @bishuthot @271101 @seagulljk @hass-mich-los @bunnyjeonjk @surfacesanity @peachy-skz0325 @wonusbitch @not-your-lion @flowersgirl02 @justinetingball @fiantomartell @fairysunooo @taebae19 @hardcarrykookie @fancycollectormoon

© taestefully-in-luv

Previous ---Next

~~~~~~~~~

December

Jungkook stares into his bathroom mirror and sees and feels nothing, absolutely nothing. He looks into his eyes and see nothing behind them. He tries to smile, but falls short. Does this have anything to do with the fact he told you he loves you but you completely misunderstood him? Yup, it probably has everything to do with that.

But Jungkook also feels like shit. He let his feelings become too overwhelming in the moment that he totally and completely forgot he has a girlfriend. So, he is almost glad that you most definitely thought he was just telling you he loves you like one normal friend to another instead of him confessing his deep and passionate feelings towards you. Yup, totally glad.

So, now he looks into the mirror and actually does see and feel something: Shame. Guilt.

And regret. Regret is written all over his face. Not regret because he told you he loves you, no. Regret that he didn’t tell you 4 years ago how he feels. Even if you didn’t feel the same he thinks he should have had the courage, instead he slept with you like a fucking idiot. But that is something he can’t get himself to regret at all…he just can’t regret that amazing night he shared with you.

“Bro! You have been in there for like ever dude, I gotta take a piss!” Jungkook hears Nick from the other side of the door, his insistent banging going completely ignored by Jungkook.

“Seriously man, I will pee in the fucking sink!” Nick threatens and Jungkook rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah man, I’m coming.” He looks into the mirror one last time before taking one deep breath and turning towards the bathroom door.

“Bathroom’s all yours.” Jungkook says as he opens the door with Nick already pushing past him.

“Fucking finally!” Nick doesn’t even bother to shut the door behind him as he quickly approaches the toilet to release himself.

Jungkook walks into his room and pulls out his phone as he sits on the edge of his bed. He goes through his message threads, his fingers hovering over your name when he gets to you.

It’s been a few weeks since the trip to your parent’s house. He had such an amazing time. That Saturday your mom cooked one of her famous homemade meals…something Jungkook hasn’t really had in years. Your dad would casually slip in the word ‘son’ in conversation, making Jungkook’s heart glow. You laughed and talked and cried and just looked so at home the entire time, like all your worries were vanishing.

He knows you’re struggling with what to do…but going abroad? Were you serious? You mentioned it to your parents too while there visiting and they loved the idea…making Jungkook’s heart sink. They just encouraged you more while you were there…telling you it was such a fun, and great idea and that it totally suits you. This only made you feel more motivated…Jungkook could see that.

Jungkook wants nothing but the best for you…he just wants you to be happy. Your happiness is his happiness but how could he survive if you left? How could he go a day without seeing you? Or worse…a week? A month? A whole fucking year? He went three months without you and he spiraled pretty bad.

Jungkook continues to sit here, his fingers right over your name and he clicks it.

Jungkook 8:14pm

I have a cold beer with your name on it

y/n 8:21pm

:( I cant hang tonight, sorry boo…im hanging with yoongs and tae. You can come by if youd like to?

Jungkook 8:22pm

No no its okay, you have fun :))

Jungkook brings his phone to his chest, right over his beating heart and he sighs out in frustration. Why can’t everything just be easy? Why is everything so complicated?

~~~~~~~

“And I will be the youngest curator they’ve ever had at this museum!” Tae finishes proudly, cheering his wine glass with yours and Yoongi’s.

“That’s so amazing Tae.” You bring your glass back to your mouth and take a gulp in his honor.

“Proud of you, kid.” Yoongi smiles fondly at Taehyung and you can’t help but also feel very proud. Taehyung got offered the main curator position at the museum of art downtown and you three are at the record shops cozy corner celebrating.

“Anything else new going on?” Taehyung asks, he eyes both you and Yoongi. “Like, any new love interests? Job offers? Juicy drama? Literally anything.”

“Nothing from me.” You laugh, you and Taehyung look over at Yoongi who is sipping his wine with the biggest blush painted on his cheeks.

“Yoongi?” you pry. “Did something new happen with you?”

“Well…I wouldn’t really call it news.” He begins shyly, “But I maybe met someone.”

You and Taehyung share a look of shock and excitement.

“Wait dude, you mean like a romantic interest?” Taehyung asks, setting his glass down on the table.

“Yeah, like you have a crush on someone?” You smile at Yoongi and his blush deepens.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he admits, “But they’re really nice and have been coming in the store every week and we sort of just end up talking…and they asked for my number—”

“This is definitely a romantic interest!” Taehyung basically shouts. “Did you give it?”

“Yes…” Yoongi takes another sip of his wine, his eyes sliding to the side. “Did I mention they’re cute?”

“You in fact, did not mention that.” You say with a grin. “I’m happy for you Yoongs.”

“I think I’ll ask them out, what do you guys think?” Yoongi whispers.

“I think that’s a great idea man!” Taehyung basically shouts again and you laugh.

“I think I really admire you for going for it…” You sigh. You wish you had that kind of courage.

“You know…” Yoongi sets his wine glass down, and turns in his seat to face you, “It takes a lot of bravery to open up to someone…it takes a lot of strength to admit when you’re wrong and to admit when things aren’t going right. It takes real courage to open your heart to someone like, romantically. You’re like, the coolest human being in the world if you can do those things.” Yoongi folds his hands out in front of him, he bites his lip as he thinks.

“y/n…you don’t have to be some sort of super human.”

You tilt your head in confusion…you thought Yoongi was going to a place where he tells you to go for it too.

“You shouldn’t always be the one doing things. Others need to form the courage too. You’re worth it. You’re worth that risk…that you may not feel the same. Trust me, I would know.” He chuckles light heartedly. “I think he will come around.”

“I don’t know about that.” Taehyung cuts in. “I want to believe he will but…” Taehyung looks over at you with pity. “…He’s…” Taehyung doesn’t know what to say without spilling anything so he decides to let the words die on his tongue.

“To be honest with you guys…” You reach for your glass of wine and chug back the remainder of what’s in the glass rather quickly before slamming it back down on the table.

“New Year’s Eve.” You say. “Four years ago. Something happened. Something major, he…”

“Four years ago, New Year’s Eve?” Taehyung scrunches his brows together as he tilts his head. “Wait something happened between you two?” you only nod your head at Taehyung’s question.

“Did Jungkook say what he wanted to say?” Taehyung asks with big eyes, completely shocked, this is news to him. But now it’s your turn to tilt your head in confusion.

“Say what he wants to say? What are you talking about?”

“Huh? Uh,” Taehyung guesses it’s not what he’s thinking. “It’s nothing. So what happened?”

“We slept together.” You blurt out quickly, giving yourself no time to regret it.

You hear Yoongi chuckle from beside you and you snap your head in his direction.

“What? What’s so funny?” you ask.

“You thought I didn’t already assume that? That you two haven’t already slept together?”

“Damn,” you say, “Observant as usual.”

“WAIT WHAT?” Taehyung sputters out, quite fucking loudly.

You guess Taehyung isn’t as observant.

“We got kind of drunk, kissed at midnight and went back to his dorm and you know…”

Realization hits Taehyung hard. When Jungkook was pissed about the fact Taehyung slept with you it wasn’t just because he was some heroic friend. It was also because Jungkook has already had you and he knows he doesn’t like to share. Fuck.

“Holy fuck, y/n.” Taehyung closes his eyes for a moment, “Wait, and you guys didn’t talk about it after? Didn’t he have something to tell you perhaps?”

“What are you talking about? He totally brushed it off. So I got bitter and didn’t talk to him for a month. Now we just…I don’t know, we just…I feel like we are more than friends but less than lovers.”

“Makes total sense.” Yoongi adds, “You two are that but more than anything you two are complete and total idiots.” “Well, that we can agree on.” Taehyung grins.

~~~~~~

It’s the middle of December meaning it’s time to do your Christmas shopping! You, Trina and Holly are at the mall perusing around and trying to find the perfect gifts.

“Let’s do what we always do y/n.” Trina bumps her elbow into your side, with a smile on her face.

“Couldn’t agree more.” You respond.

“And what do you two always do?” Holly asks, feeling a little left out.

“Oh you know, we agree to no presents.” You say, “One less person to stress over, that’s our gift to each other.”

“Wow.” Holly deadpans, “You guys are so lame.”

“Or are we geniuses?” Trina asks with a grin, she walks closer to Holly and links arms with her, “But don’t worry Hol, I am getting you something.”

“Good.” Holly says, a shy smile making its way on her face.

“Me too!” you say trying to include yourself. “What would you like anyway? Just show me and I’ll buy it for you!”

“That takes out all the fun in gift giving.” Holly pouts, “It’s supposed to be a surprise!”

“Ah, fuck.” Trina spits out, “I suck at gift giving. Just tell us what you want.” She whines.

“No!” Holly laughs. “Look, I’ll be back.” She gestures towards her left, “I gotta use the bathroom.” She waves at you and Trina and walks away.

“Dude what am I going to get Holly?” Trina asks you, her frustration as clear as day. “It’s got to be special.” She adds in shyly. Special? Now’s your time to finally ask her what is up with her and Holly.

“Why special?”

“Oh you know.” Trina’s sheepish grin gives her away. “I don’t got to say it, when you know.”

“Fair enough.” You laugh. “Oh!” you point towards the window of one of the stores to your right, “You see those mugs? Let’s go check them out.”

“What why?”

“Christmas gift.” You say simply.

You both walk towards the glass window and eye the mugs, there’s a whole bunch but there’s a mug with music notes all over it and you’re reminded of the record shop and your two friends. You walk inside and grab three of them. Yes, three matching mugs for you, Yoongi and Taehyung. Even though Taehyung doesn’t drink coffee, he can still put whatever beverage he wants inside.

You pay for the mugs and have them wrapped in Christmas paper! You got some of your first gifts done with! Now you need to find something for Jimin, Jungkook, Holly and your parents. Crap, should you get something for the rest of the boys too? You’ll be seeing them on New year’s…maybe you’ll get them all scarves. That’s easy.

Jimin is easy, you know he’s been eyeing this channel necklace for far too long and you happen to be able to afford it for him. Jungkook isn’t easy at all. So you go with something simple, a new pair of chunky black boots that he’s been talking about for months. Your mom gets a necklace with her birth flower and your dad gets tickets to his favorite sports team…cheap tickets, sorry to your dad. Holly loves penguins so you find a cute penguin pin for her purse, you think she will love it.

Shopping takes almost the whole day, you, Trina and Holly are seated in the malls food court sipping on a smoothie.

“I am so freaking tired.” Holly leans her head on Trina’s shoulder as she speaks.

“Me too, girl, me too.” You respond. “But Christmas is soon!”

“Are you guys excited about going home?” you ask.

“Yeah, my parents promised they would take me ice skating like when I was a kid.” Trina chuckles.

“I’m excited too! What about you y/n?” Holly lifts her head from Trina. “What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Going home, of course. I’m bringing Jungkook with me.” You admit with a soft smile, “My mom and dad love him, they practically beg me every week on the phone that I bring him.”

“You guys are such a couple.” Trina rolls her eyes playfully.

“We’re best friends! He doesn’t have parents to spend it with so he’s coming with me, is that such a crime?” you say lightly.

“No, no. Of course not.” Trina rolls her eyes again. “I wouldn’t be surprised if you guys get together during your trip.”

“Need I remind you he has a girlfriend?”

~~~~~~~~

Jungkook slides his dick in and out of Vanessa as she clenches around him, he holds her body up as he fucks her from behind. He’s been at it for a while but…

“I’m going to come!” She moans out, “Please tell me you’re close!”

“I—I” Jungkook tries fucking her faster and harder as she comes undone. But Jungkook is still trying, he’s fucking struggling. He screws his eyes shut and thrusts into Vanessa at a fast and hard rate but nothing is working.

“Sorry…sorry.” Jungkook begins to slow down, “I can’t. I just can’t” He admits, totally defeated. He’s tired. He eventually comes to a stop, and pulls out.

“I’m sorry Vanessa.” He says quietly, “It’s not you, I promise.” His voice is hoarse.

Vanessa stands and walks to the bathroom to clean herself up, when she returns she sees Jungkook sitting on the edge of the bed with his pants back on.

“It’s okay, Jungkookie.” Vanessa’s smooth voice doesn’t waver as she speaks, “It happens.”

Jungkook runs his hands down his tired face before looking up at Vanessa, his eyes slightly watery.

“This isn’t fair for you, I should be able to fucking come.” He grits out. “At the fucking least.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“How are you so calm about this? Hm?”

Vanessa sits on the edge of the bed next to Jungkook, she breathes in and out before raising her head to speak to him.

“He wants to get back together with me, you know.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at her words. She couldn’t be talking about her ex, could she?

“Vanessa—”

“It’s okay. I said I no. Somehow I feel okay.” She smiles at him, it isn’t one of those coy or secretive smiles she mostly hands out but a real genuine smile.

“I think I just feel good that he wants me again but now I have the upper hand, you know? I’m the one with power.”

“You told him no?”

“And not even because I am supposed to be your girlfriend…but because I decided I need to respect myself. You’re right…what I was doing…it wasn’t healthy.” She admits, she shakes her head to rid herself of her bangs that keep falling in her eyes.

“I…I’m proud of you.”

“I want to be proud of you too.” She whispers.

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” she says quietly, “You’ll see eventually.”

“What does that me—”

“Let’s take a small break.” Vanessa tilts her head to get a quick look at him, “Just until New Year’s.”

“Vanessa—”

“We just need some time to like, miss each other? You know?”

Jungkook shakes his head, “You mean, break up?”

“Just a break. But technically yes, we aren’t together in the meantime.”

“Why?” Jungkook stands up, “We can make this work Vanessa.”

“Please stop.” Vanessa says more sternly. “It’s what I want. Just until New Year’s.”

Jungkook paces back and forth with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. He doesn’t understand why she wants this? Because he couldn’t come? All because of that? He stops pacing to stare at her and she’s already looking up at him with a sickingly sweet smile.

“Fine.” He says. “If that’s—that’s what you want.” He clears his throat and tries smiling for her, she all but nods her head.

~~~~~~~

“You ready?” you ask Jungkook when he walks up to your car. You came to pick him up, insisting that you drive this time.

“Yeah.” Jungkook shows you his bunny grin and you melt, you love that smile of his. He sets his bag in the backseat and walks over to the passenger door and sits down inside.

“I’m excited to spend Christmas with you and your family.”

“Oh, it’s going to be a handful. You’ll be meeting my grandma, some aunts and uncles and some cousins of mine.”

“And I cannot wait.” He repeats. “Do you have my Christmas present here in the car?” he smiles cheekily, “Just give it to me now.”

“Yeah, right. You have to wait until tomorrow dummy!”

“Hey, don’t call me a dummy.” Jungkook pouts. He leans back in the passenger’s seat and closes his eyes.

“Hey, you’re not thinking of taking a nap are you?” You reverse your car out of the parking spot at his apartment.

“Maybe.” Jungkook snickers from beside you, “If you don’t want me falling asleep, tell me something interesting.”

“I think I want to work on getting a TEFL.” You blurt out, “To you know, teach.”

Jungkook’s eyes stay shut as he processes your words, he thinks to himself carefully—he can’t react negatively. He can’t.

“That’s nice, y/n.” He settles for. “You’ll like it.”

“That’s it?” you twist your head to look in his direction, he opens his eyes and stares at you for a few moments.

“Eyes on the road.” Jungkook closes his eyes again.

“Jungkook…you aren’t sad I might be moving away for like, at least a year?” You grip the steering wheel tighter, “You know I would be leaving right?”

“What do you want me to say y/n?” Jungkook opens his eyes and leans forward, “Want me to tell you no? That you aren’t allowed to leave?”

“Well…no. But you could act like you care a little.” You whisper out in pout.

“I do care.” Jungkook huffs, “But I just want you to do whatever makes you happy.”

“You make me happy.”

Jungkook quirks a brow and smiles, “So, you want to do me?”

“Gross,” you reach over and hit his arm. “You know what I mean. I just…I mean I value your opinion.”

Jungkook’s smile begins to fade as he stares at the cars floorboard. He zones out for a few moments, not entirely sure what to say. While it is true he wants you to do whatever makes you happy he also doesn’t want you to go anywhere.

“Do what’s best for you baby.” He all but whispers. “I will believe in you and support you no matter what.”

“I guess I’ll take that for now.” You whine. “How’s work going for you?”

“It’s good.” Jungkook’s eyes light up, “The director is letting me edit some pretty important scenes.” He gushes. “I brought my work stuff so I can show you over the next couple of days.”

“Yeah? That sounds exciting Jungkook!”

You finally merge on the high way for your few hour trip, you got your ‘Chillin’ playlist on and a few snacks on hand. You and Jungkook chit chat every so often but you mostly jam to the music.

“Let’s listen to Disney radio station!” You hand Jungkook your phone, “Hurry, put it.”

Jungkook takes your phone with a grin and selects the Disney option on pandora, the first song to come on is Lion King’s ‘Hakuna Matata’. You and Jungkook sing your hearts out, smiling, giggling and belting out the notes.

A couple hours pass like this, your throat getting admittedly sore. But Jungkook on the other hand is still going strong, he is singing all the parts in ‘Kiss the Girl’ with such passion…you can’t help but chuckle as you listen to him.

“Phew, I am worn out!” you say, laughing. “But I see you can keep going?” you turn the volume down.

“Oh, we can switch it up…but to answer the question you know I can keep going.” He winks. And you know he meant that innocently but you can’t help but blush.

“Right.” You hand him your phone again, “Our trip is almost over…you can just put on a playlist.”

“Are you excited to see your parents again?”

“Well, I just saw them last month…but yes.” You admit, “Being home is always nice. My parents have been bothering me for weeks making sure you are actually coming with me for Christmas.” You chuckle, “They’ll be glad to see you.”

Jungkook grabs a hold of his ears in excitement, you can tell he’s genuinely happy as he sits here and smiles that smile.

“I’m glad to see them too. And I am excited to meet more of your family.”

“There will probably be misunderstandings…but don’t worry, I will make it clear we are just friends.” You nod your head as you speak. Jungkook just shrugs in response, just fucking shrugs.

“Isn’t that your house up there on the corner?” Jungkook points forward towards the house.

“Yup.”

When you pull into the driveway your parents are making their way outside, they smile at you and you wave from inside your car. You turn it off and turn to face Jungkook.

“You ready?”

“Yes.” He grins.

You step out of your car and your mom and dad are rushing to bring you in for a hug, they hold you close and you feel yourself feeling right at home. You begin to pull away and head towards the backseat when your mom grabs your arm,

“You two can get your things later—before bed, before bed.” She guides you towards the house, “And hello, Jungkook.” She smiles widely, “So nice you are here again! Let’s go see everyone!”

“Yes mam.” Jungkook says with a small smile, he walks forward and shakes hands with your dad.

“Nice to see you again, son.”

“Yes sir, you too.”

“Stop being so formal!” you look back at him, teasing. You and your mom walk to the front door, waiting for your dad and Jungkook to catch up.

The four of you enter the house, it smells like pie and cookies and warmth and you know, like Christmas. You hear the chitter chatter of your relatives filling the house and you want to smile. You can hear your cousins gossiping in the kitchen, you hear their children playing in the backyard (The back door is open), you hear your grandma snoring on your dads recliner, while your aunt and uncle quietly talk on the other sofas. You hear what it’s like to feel at home.

“Look who is here, everyone!” Your mom announces obnoxiously. “It’s y/n and Jungkook!”

First your aunt and uncle’s attention are caught, they nod your way with smiles on their faces and you head over to the sofas to hug them each. Your grandma stays snoring on the recliner and you giggle, classic grandma.

Next, your cousins are coming in from kitchen. Three of them to be exact, Daniel and his wife Larissa and your other cousin who is your age Manny. Daniel and Larissa have 3 beautiful children who are playing in the back, you can hear their giggles from inside. Manny is much shorter than you, she’s petite and curvy and really, really pretty. You go in to hug her first, she wraps her arms around you loosely.

“y/n!” she yells excitedly, “It’s been since last Christmas right?!” she asks, still holding on to you.

“Something like that.” You giggle, “Hi Daniel, Larissa.” You go in to hug them as well.

“Guys this is Jungkook.” You finally introduce the awkward boy, he stands here swaying from side to side waiting to meet everyone. He bows his head in greeting and everyone says their hello’s. All except sleeping grandma.

“Well, hello.” Manny smiles at Jungkook, “I didn’t even see you there, which is crazy because you’re like crazy hot—”

“Okay, Manny.” You try cutting in early enough, but are a bit late.

“Oh?” Jungkook eyebrows climb to up his forehead as he looks at Manny.

“I’m Manny.” She winks, “ You must be y/n’s friend, I presume?”

“Uh…”

“y/n!!!!” Your grandma comes up to you all, her sweet perfume filling the air around you. “You’re here, sweetie.”

“Grandma!” you lean in and hug her frail body, she smells like she always has your whole entire life, sweet.

“And this must be your boyfriend, Jungkook? I have heard so much about you, dear.” Your grandmas opens her arms, signaling Jungkook to lean in and hug her—which he does.

“Actually grandma—”

“You finally have a nice boyfriend, your parents have told me all about him.” she winks, “I am so happy for you sweetie, I think I can finally rest easy.”

“Rest easy?” you question, “No grandma you are mis—”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Jungkook smiles at your grandma and she cheeses hard.

“You can call me grandma, dear.” She pats his back lovingly, “I want to hear all about you two. Shall we drink some tea together?”

“Boyfriend?” Manny asks, confused. “I didn’t know you guys started dating?”

“We aren’t—”

“Its new.” Jungkook cuts in. He slides his arm around your waist and you audibly gasp.

“What’s new?” Your mom walks up to you all.

“They’re dating.” Manny says, looking unimpressed.

“WHAT! Darling, get in here!” She calls your dad over, “Jungkook and y/n are together, together!”

“No we are—” you try cutting in but you feel Jungkook dig his fingers into your waist.

“THEY’RE TOGETHER?!” Your dad yells out, his excitement clear as day. You stand here confused as hell as your whole family starts congratulating you two.

“Wait, wait.” You try getting out but Jungkook leans in to whisper in your ear.

“We can’t disappoint grandma.” He says softly.

~~~~~~

“I met my Roy at a party too.” Your grandma says between sips, she holds her tea in front of her face as she reminisces.

“Was it love at first sight?” Your grandma asks, wiggling her brows. “Me and my Roy didn’t get together for quite some time so I don’t think it was love at first sight for us…when did you know?”

“Grandma…” you begin, “Can we talk about something else?” you beg.

“I knew only a few months later.” Jungkook admits shyly, he smiles at your grandma while bringing his tea cup to his lips. “I knew no one could take y/n’s spot. But I was content with being friends.”

Your eyes grow in size, his confession warming you up. You know it’s all for show but you can’t help what it does to you.

“I also knew after a few months.” You say quietly.

“Oh, how lovely!” Your grandma claps her hands together softly, “And now here you are! Jungkook…” Your grandma sets down her tea cup and looks over at Jungkook. “I trust you will take care of y/n no matter what, right?”

“No matter what.” He says quickly. “She takes care of me too.”

“And how does she do that?” Your grandma raises a drawn on brow.

“She is always there for me…she always tries to understand me even when I am in the wrong…she always tries to get to know me like she doesn’t already know everything,” he chuckles, “She always hugs me when I need it.” Jungkook looks at you with a soft smile, “She really loves me and I can feel it.” Then his mouth falls open and his eyes expand a little, “Do you… love me y/n? Like—”

“Okay, that’s enough about us babe,” you cut him off, “When did you get in town grandma?”

“Oh, just last night.” She mumbles, “I—”

“So,” Manny comes into the kitchen, her v neck lower than it was 20 minutes ago, you can’t help but roll your eyes. “What do you do Jungkook?” she leans down into his space, one hand squeezing his bicep as she asks her question.

“Um, I work as an editor for a film company.” His eyes shift to you and you roll your eyes again. “What about you?”

“Oh? Me? I work at a marketing firm. Was hoping to see y/n there.” She smiles at you. “But guess she didn’t apply? Maybe?”

“I didn’t get hired.” You state plainly. “But I didn’t want to work there anyway.” You grip your thigh in annoyance.

“y/n is probably too good for that company anyway.” Jungkook says, his hand reaches for yours and you relax a little bit.

“Right.” Manny nods her head exaggeratedly, “That’s got to be it…” she winks at you and you give a half ass smile.

“So Jungkook…” she finally takes a seat next to him, her hand still on his arm. “Film, huh? That’s soo cool. What do you do in your spare time?” she squeezes his bicep again, “Besides working out, of course.” She laughs.

Jungkook looks at you in panic, his eyes shifting from yours to his arm and you just roll your eyes.

“Manny.” You cut in, “How’s Luis?”

“Oh, we broke up.” She says smiling at Jungkook. “Nothing to worry about it.”

“And what’s to worry about,” you lean over and detach her fingers from Jungkook’s arm. “Hm?”

“Oh nothing.” Manny shakes her head.

“Manny, did you ever take my things out of the drier?” Your grandma speaks up, “Please put them in my room if you haven’t already.”

“Speaking of rooms.” Your mom and dad walk into the kitchen, their hands joined together.

“What?” you ask.

“Grandma is in Jungkook’s room. So Jungkook will have to stay in your room with you.” She says nonchalantly.

“Hm? Okay.” You shrug while Jungkook’s eyes widen just slightly. “Where are aunt and uncle sleeping? And Daniel and the rest? “Oh, we got a hotel.” Manny says, “Which sucks because it would have been fun to have a little slumber party.” She says in pout. You give her a tight smile and nod.

“Sure.” You get out, “Guess it’s just me and Jungkook for the slumber party.” You wink at her and Jungkook laughs as he squeezes your hand.

“Can’t wait baby.”

“Oh, you guys are gross.” Manny gags, “We get it.”

“Yeah, behave.” Your mom gives you a pointed look, “You’re still in your parent’s house.”

“Sorry, sorry. We’re just messing around.” You wave your hand, “Also, I can get your things from the drier grandma, I am going upstairs anyway to change.”

“Thank you sweetie.”

You let go of Jungkook’s hand as you stand up, he looks up at you in panic. You’re leaving him here with Manny?! He’s not stupid, this girl is clearly not caring about the whole boyfriend thing but he doesn’t want to make a scene by saying something to her.

“I’ll go with you.” Jungkook rushes to say earning strange looks from your parents. “Be—because I should bring up our bags from the car.”

“Ah, yes! That’s true, that’s true.” Your mom nods her head in agreeance, “You two go.”

Upstairs is much quieter, Jungkook thinks to himself. Just the background noise of muffled voices and occasional laughter. You two are in your childhood bedroom with both of your bags on your small bed. You are digging through your own luggage when you hear Jungkook clear his voice.

“What’s up?” you don’t look up to see him, you continue digging into your bag for some sleep shorts and a t shirt.

“This bed is tiny.” Jungkook groans, “How are we going to sleep on it?”

“I suppose one of us could make a palette on the flo—”

“—No.” Jungkook shakes his head, “I just mean, you’ll have to sleep super close to me.”

“That doesn’t bother me. Does it bother you suddenly?” you grab the small shorts from your bag and set them on the bed.

“W-What? No…” he admits shyly, his teeth on full display at he smiles at his own bag. “I was just saying.”

“Will Vanessa not like it?” you whisper as you find the t shirt. “Because—”

“Actually we—”

“—ask her?”

“No, it’s fine. Trust me.” Jungkook brings out his own change of clothes and stands here awkwardly, not knowing where to go.

“I do trust you.” You breathe out, “We can just turn around and change.” You offer, already spinning on your heels and lifting your sweater over your head. Jungkook continues to stare at you until he’s hit with realization. He quickly turns around and starts changing as well.

“You sure let Manny touch you however she pleases.” You spit out quietly. Jungkook freezes mid shirt lift, his eyes growing in panic.

“It’s not that I was letting her…I just…I didn’t know what to do…I’m sorry—”

“Yeah, I know.” You roll your eyes even though he cannot see. “I’m just—it’s my fault. Me and Manny grew up together. The boy she liked in high school liked me…and ever since then she’s always…” you wiggle into your sleep shorts, slipping the material over your ass.

“Oh, I get it.” Jungkook slips on a new t shirt, “I’m done. Are you?”

“Yeah, I am.”

You both turn around, smiling sheepishly at one another. He’s wearing black sweats with a plain white t shirt and you in your sleep shorts you always use to wear around the apartment that use to drive Jungkook wild and one of his black t shirts.

“Hey, that’s mine.” He pouts, pointing at the shirt you’re wearing.

“Mine now.” You poke your tongue out. Jungkook pretends to reach over the bed to grab your tongue which makes you laugh.

“Don’t let Manny touch you again.” You blurt out, “I don’t like it.”

Jungkook bites down on his bottom lip as he stares at you, he begins walking to the other side of the bed until he’s standing in front of you.

“Why don’t you like it?” he asks softly.

“It’s annoying to look at it.”

“It irritates you to see another girl touch me?”

“It’s irritating when that girl is my cousin.”

“Why does it matter who it is specifically?” Jungkook steps closer to you, he pushes his hands in his sweat pockets.

“I don’t want you to fuck my cousin, Jungkook. Sue me.” Your straightforwardness makes Jungkook chuckle.

“I wouldn’t fuck your cousin, y/n.”

“Yeah, because you have Vanessa.” You remind him.

“Actually we—”

“—we should head back downstairs.” You try pushing past him but he catches your wrist.

“Tell me why it irritates you so much.”

“I just don’t like it, Jungkook.” You huff.

“Are you perhaps jealous?” Jungkook lowers your wrist, but he doesn’t let go.

“Why would I be jealous?” You yank your wrist from his hold and push past him, walking towards your bedroom door. “Come on.”

You basically told him you weren’t jealous but why did it have to happen that when teams were being chosen for this game night, Jungkook and Manny would get paired together.

The universe is laughing at you. Manny is…shameless. She has no problem flirting with someone else’s man…you’re no exception. You can tell Jungkook is slightly uncomfortable and not really enjoying the attention but still, somehow you are fuming. It’s not like he’s being exceptionally nice to her, he’s just not being standoffish enough to your liking.

“Oh, Jungkook!” Manny giggles for no reason, she leans into Jungkook’s space, just laughing away while sit you here and watch. He chuckles awkwardly, his hands messing with the playing cards in front of him. You hate this view. You thought any view with Jungkook would be a nice one, but you were wrong. Watching your cousin fawn over him like this is making you angry as fuck. As it should, right? Jungkook is your boyfriend! Well—not actually. But still! As far as Manny is concerned, Jungkook is your man, and she needs to back off.

“Manny, could you maybe give my boyfriend some space.” You snap, your voice cutting in through your family’s chatter. The room quiets down and all eyes are on you.

Manny looks all around the room, red creeping on her cheeks as she sits here, embarrassed. She opens her mouth to speak when you hold up a hand to stop her. Then you use that hand to gesture towards their bodies,

“He’s clearly uncomfortable that you are sitting so close, and frankly, I am too.”

“y/n…”

“And he’s too nice to say anything.” Your cold eyes look at her then they slide to Jungkook, “Which is something you need to work on babe.”

“I am not even sitting that close, jeez, you are as dramatic as ever.” Manny tries to roll her eyes, while subtlety scooting away. “And really? You try to call me out in front of everyone?”

“Oh? Should we talk in private then?”

“y/n.” this time the one saying your name is Jungkook. “Maybe we should go to sleep. Start new tomorrow, huh?” The tension between you and Manny too much for him to handle right now, especially in front of everyone.

“I think that’s a great idea.” It’s grandma. “It’s way past my bedtime too.”

“I think your aunt and uncle were just talking about how it’s almost time to leave too. Perfect timing!” Your mom chimes in, “Let’s all say goodnight.”

You don’t say anything to Jungkook as you peel back the baby pink duvet on your bed, you just stare down at your twin mattress with hard eyes.

“Are you okay?”

You continue to stay silent as you slip under the covers, scooting all the way towards the edge of the bed as far as you possibly can.

“y/n…” Jungkook pats in the last of his facial moisturizer into his skin, “I asked if you’re okay?” his back is facing you as he sits on the edge of the bed, placing his moisturizer back in his bag. “It was interesting,” (Hot.) “To see you all…protective,” (Jealous.) “Tonight.”

“I’m going to sleep.” You are laying on your back, staring up at the ceiling fan. “I don’t feel like talking tonight.”

Jungkook lays down next to you, his body so freaking close. He lays on his side, facing you. His right arm going under his head, trying his hardest to get comfortable in such close quarters.

“No talking, but maybe cuddling?” Jungkook whispers, and you of course hear it clear as day because he is so fucking close to you.

“Call me crazy but I don’t feel like cuddling with a guy who can’t even tell another girl to fuck off.” You shut your eyes. “Not in the mood.”

Jungkook blinks a few times, your words sinking in. You’re kind of right, he should of said something too but he didn’t know what to say. It’s your cousin! In front of your family! And he tried his hardest to lean away from Manny as much as possible.

“I’m sorry, y/n. You’re right. I should have said something.” His left hand reaches out to grab your hand that rests on top of your stomach.

“Yeah, you should have. But now I’m the asshole who called her out in front of everyone.”

Jungkook remembers it, and he darkly chuckles.

“Yeah, and it was hot.” He admits, making you open your eyes as you snap your head towards him.

“You think me being crazy jealous was hot?” you give him a look like he’s crazy.

“So you are jealous?” Jungkook smirks, “But I don’t see it that way. I see it as being protective over what’s yours.”

“So, you’re mine?” you turn to lean on your side, your body bumping into his. “At least until the end of this trip right?” you laugh, “I can’t believe you just don’t want to disappoint grandma.”

“At least until the end of this trip.” Jungkook leans his head closer to yours, “You finally brought home a boyfriend.” He grins as his forehead slightly bumps into yours.

What does Jungkook mean at least? And why does he always become closer and closer to you?

If you were to lift your head up at all, his lips would be dangerously close to yours.

“Jeez, how many fake boyfriends am I going to have this year?” you joke, keeping your head down, “I really got to find a real one by now.”

“I know the room is dark,” Jungkook begins, “But I still want to see your eyes when we talk.”

“Didn’t I say I didn’t want to talk?”

“y/n…” Jungkook whines, “You’re still mad at me?”

“Not really, it’s not your fault. I’m just still pissed at the situation.” You admit quite easily. “It’s honestly so disrespectful of her. You’re my boyfriend. You’re my man. You’re mine.”

Jungkook’s hand settles over your waist, he grabs on and brings you in closer to his body. He inhales you, taking in your scent. You smell so good to him, he could inhale you forever. Your words echo in his mind as he snuggles you closer. Your man? His heart races faster and faster as the echo gets louder.

“I’m yours, hm?” he runs his fingers down your side, starting from your shoulder until the top of your hip bone. “Does that make you mine?” He breathes out, “Are you mine baby?” his fingers dance over your hips, your shirt and shorts separating his fingers from touching your warm skin.

“You know what I mean.” You huff out, closing your eyes from his gentle touch.

“Do I though?” Jungkook’s hand lingers over your hips, until he is playing with the end of your shirt.

“Let me touch your skin.” He softly begs, “It’ll feel nice.”

Your eyes open in surprise, what skin? Where will he be touching?

“Innocent, I swear.” Jungkook adds, “Just want to make you feel nice.”

“Isn’t that weird?” you finally ask.

“I don’t think so.”

“Fine.” You close your eyes again, “Touch me.”

Jungkook bites his lips when you give him the green light, he wasn’t expecting you to agree so quickly. Because what if it is weird? He just wants to touch your skin, no harm done. Jungkook leans up on his arms and tugs at the bottom of your shirt,

“I am going to slide this up a bit, okay?” he asks and you nod your head but you hear him chuckle.

“Words, baby.”

“Yes.” You breathe out, your eyes still closed.

Jungkook takes the material between his fingers and begins to slowly, very slowly ride the shirt up. His eyes have finally adjusted to the dark, where he can see you just enough. The shirt slides up your body, exposing your skin inch by inch. He gulps.

He lifts the shirt up until your pretty blue bralette is showing itself, your breasts falling to the side giving you a good amount of cleavage. He gulps again.

When the shirt is all bunched up at your armpits, Jungkook lays back down on his side. The cold air that spins in circles thanks to the fan is causing your skin to get goosebumps, your stomach feeling extra sensitive.

“Touch me, Jungkook.” You softly command. “I want you to.”

Jungkook swallows hard at your straightforwardness. His hand slowly creeps up to your shoulder, his fingers brushing against the material of the t shirt before he’s lightly dragging his fingers down your side. His fingertips hit your exposed skin, he lightly glides them down, just barely touching you. When he reaches your hip bone he dances his fingers lower until they’re grazing your lower stomach. His touch is so light it’s got your breathing getting just a bit heavier. He repeats his action a few times, starting from your shoulder until his fingers glide across your bare stomach. He’s right, it does feel nice. Too nice, almost.

“How do my fingers feel?” He clears his throat, his voice nice and low. Your eyes shoot open at his question. This is all innocent, but why does that question feel so dirty?

“They feel so good.” You breathe out, “So good.”

Jungkook smiles and continues sliding his fingers over your lower stomach, causing you to release a long, shaky breath. His touch is so fucking good, his touch leaving a trail of fire. As his fingers lightly skid across your stomach he leaves behind such heat. His fingers finally glide up, they barely reach right under your breasts. Your breath catches in your throat, his fingers so dangerously close to your tits and you want to smash your head on something. God, what it would feel like to have them being touched by his large hand.

Jungkook uses just his pointer finger to drag his finger down from the center of your lower chest until he’s passing your belly button, until he’s reaching your lower stomach again, his finger stopping at the drawstrings on your shorts.

You can’t help but release a long, quiet moan as his finger does that over and over. You clench your stomach muscles with each stroke of his fingers. Why does Jungkook have to make you feel so fucking good?

Jungkook feels himself getting hard against your thigh, but he doesn’t care to hide it. Touching your warm, soft skin feels so intimate and that moan you released? His cock needs to hear more. He grabs a hold of your hip, the material of the shorts in the way of your skin.

“Can I lower these a little?” he pants out. “Just a little.”

“Yes.” You feel your breaths getting heavier.

Jungkook slips his fingers under the shorts and slowly drags down the material over your hip, your panties sliding down as well. Jungkook grunts in approval, he thumbs your hip bone causing you to quietly whimper.

“You really like your hips and stomach to be touched.” He states.

“S-Sensitive.” You admit.

Jungkook massages the skin of your hip, very, very lightly. Almost like he isn’t touching you at all, like he’s just trying to tease you. And it’s working. You feel your breaths become more erratic. You keep your eyes closed as the light feeling of his fingertips begin to make you wet. You can’t help but slightly rotate your hips in circles as he touches you, and you can’t help but moan when he puts more pressure into his massage on your hip.

“You like that?” Jungkook breathes out, “Feel good?”

Your hips move faster underneath his electric touch, you start to become desperate, needing more. You finally open your eyes, Jungkook notices how dark and captivating they look. You reach forward until your own hand is at his shirt.

“Off.”

Jungkook looks at you, very confused. But he doesn’t waste another moment when he sits up and throws his shirt off.

“Good.” Your hands go to grope his chest. His strong muscles flex beneath your touch. You drag your hands down his chest until they stop at the waistband of his sweats, he throws his head back as you explore the front of his body.

“Want to touch you too.” You admit between harsh breaths.

Jungkook’s hand goes to the shirt bunched around your shoulders and tugs on it,

“Off too.” He guides you to sit up and he helps you take off your shirt. Your strappy bralette leaves almost nothing to the imagination, Jungkook thinks. The material is so very thin that he sees your hard nipples and he wants to brush his thumb over them. But he refrains.

“Much better.” Jungkook says in one breath. “Now lay down.”

You do as he says, this time you lay on your back instead of your side. You try breathing in and out normally but can’t help how irregular your breaths are.

“Jungkook.” You whine, “Touch me.”

“So needy.” Jungkook’s hand hovers over the top of your stomach, “My baby is so needy.” He whispers.

You reach up and caress Jungkook’s cheek, “I am.” You admit. Jungkook throws his head back, biting on his lip as he grins.

“Good girl.” His fingers lightly dance below your belly button and you whine. He glides his fingers lower and lower until they’re at your waistband.

“Going to pull these down…just a little.” His voice cracks as he stares down at you.

You nod your head and tell him yes over and over.

He drags the shorts just a bit lower, right before your pussy is exposed. His fingers lightly touch your new exposed skin, and you moan. The feeling getting you so worked up.

“I want to do the same to you.” You try say between your rough breathing. “Let me touch you, Jungkook.” Your hands go to his stomach, your touch anything but light as you drag your hands down with pressure. You reach the top of his waist band and begin pulling down until he’s catching your wrist.

“And what do you think you are doing?” Jungkook’s low, deep voice sends a shiver down your god damn spine.

“Innocent, I promise.” You mock, “Want to touch you too.”

“I think we have had enough,” he teases lightly, bringing his hand back to his own body. “Let’s go to sleep.”

“Fine, cuddle me.” You say, annoyed. You turn to your other side, where your back is facing him.

“Fine by me. But…” He sinks down further into the covers to spoon you, one arm going beneath your head and the other pulling you in by the hips, “Remember what happens when we get in this position.” You feel his hard cock poke your ass and you moan out quietly.

“What happens?” you play dumb.

“4 years ago, you asked me to cuddle you like this because you wanted to get fucked.” he says easily and you choke on your spit. He’s referencing that night?

Jungkook is so lost in you, he doesn’t care anymore. He will bring up that night a million times if he has to. He loves you. And he’s starting to get real tired of the constant tension between you two. He pushes his hips into your ass, you feel how hard he is and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I also said this position makes me feel safe.” You play innocent as you bump your ass into his crotch.

“I make you feel safe?”

“You make me feel a lot of things.” You whimper, backing your ass further into his cock, it’s so hard and poking against you in such a way that drives you nuts.

Jungkook groans as he feels you circling your hips into his crotch. His hand goes to your hip and he squeezes tightly making you moan out.

“You got to be more quiet baby.” Jungkook warns softly, “We don’t want your parents or your grandmother thinking we are really having that ‘slumber party’.” He jokes.

“Then what are we having?”

“Just some innocent massages between friends.” He comments with a snicker.

“Oh? Is my ass massaging your dick so innocent?” you whine out, “I don’t really do this sort of thing with my other friends.” You keep your eyes screwed shut.

“It’s very innocent.” Jungkook teases, he begins lightly humping you. He pushes his cock further and further on your ass cheeks, he moans when you two find a rhythm. He remembers when he fucked you in this position, he remembers it well. How you sounded, how you smelled, how you felt. He memorized the feeling of you.

“Fuck, y/n…” Jungkook quietly groans out. He rocks his hips into you faster, and you hate everything. You want to touch yourself so bad. You want to slide your fingers down your shorts and rub your aching clit, you would like it even more if it was Jungkook’s fingers.

“Not fair…” you say in pout, arching your back.

“What’s not?” he pants.

“I want to feel good too…” you say, flipping to your other side, facing him. You scoot impossibly close until his cock is pressed against your lower stomach.

“Innocently, of course.” You throw a leg over his waist as your hands go to his chest to guide him to lay on his back. “Gonna make us both feel good.” Your eyes are glazed over in lust as you speak.

You straddle his hips and find the right placement in sitting down…his cock nice and snug between your clothed folds. You begin moving your hips until you have the right angle on your clit and you moan.

“Is this okay?” you breathe out and Jungkook nods his head quickly.

You begin rocking yourself against his clothed cock, he quietly whimpers at the feeling. Jungkook screws his eyes shut as his mouth falls open and wonderful panting leaves his lips. You watch him lose his composure as you hump him, you pick up the pace, becoming more and more desperate. Your clit is thanking you. ‘Thank you bitch’ it says.

“I—I can’t” Jungkook moans out, “I—I can’t do this.”

You immediately slow down, rejection sinking in. “What do you mean? You don’t want to do—”

“—I don’t want to do this with clothes on.” Jungkook groans, his fingers digging into your hips. “I need you naked. Fucking now.” He grits out.

You finally still as you process his words. Are you two about to fuck? Is this really a good idea? Again? But you are so far gone…you are so beyond horny that you are able to push your logical thinking to the side.

“Okay.” You look at him with lust filled eyes, “Take off my clothes.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen but he’s nodding his head so fucking fast it’s almost comical. He rushes to unclasp your bralette, your breasts bouncing as they are freed. He sits up, and you are graced with the sight of Jungkook’s mouth sucking on your tit. You arch your back, pushing your breast further into his mouth, his tongue swirling over the hardened nub. You throw your head back in pleasure, his hand giving your other breast all the attention it needs.

“Shorts, Jungkook.” You beg. “Take them off me.”

Jungkook detaches his self from your breast and looks up into your eyes and smirks,

“Say please, princess.”

“Fucking please, please.”

Jungkook’s hands quickly find their way to your shorts and your rise to your knees to help him slip them off your legs. Your panties go down with the shorts and Jungkook couldn’t be more pleased.

“Oh my god baby.” Jungkook stares at you with dark eyes, “Your wetness is literally dripping down your inner thighs. You are so fucking wet.” He comments and you smile shyly.

“You…” you begin to say.

“What about me?” he teases, his fingers grazing your inner thigh, he wipes some of your cum off your sensitive skin.

“You did this to me.”

“Yes I did baby. And I will take full responsibility.” He guides your body up his own, you follow his lead.

“Ride my face.” He commands as he lays back down, his hand in yours still guiding you when you stop abruptly.

“W—What?”

“Ride my face baby.” He tugs on your hand and you hesitantly make your way closer to him. You stop when you are hovering over his chest, knees on either side of his neck when you start to get shy.

“I’ve never…”

“Keep going,” his hands go to your hips and he’s guiding you further up until your pussy is hovering over his warm mouth.

“Now sit.”

“Jungkook—”

“I said, sit.”

And you do, you lower yourself over his mouth…you slam your eyes shut, feeling nervous. But then you are met with his wet, warm tongue. You stay still as he begins licking at you, his tongue licking a strip from your hole to your clit. You start to relax as the sensation fills you up, his tongue swirling around causing you to release a long, breathy moan. You can’t help but start to rock your hips back and forth…the feeling even more spectacular. You try to keep quiet, you really do. But Jungkook’s tongue is quite literally fucking you.

“Ah, Jungkook.” You throw your head back, your eyes rolling all around as you ride his face faster. You feel Jungkook moan into your pussy, making you whimper even more.

You don’t know how much time has passed but it does not matter. Jungkook shows no sign of stopping anytime soon, his tongue working to make you feel so fucking good. You ride his face even harder now, your thighs shaking as you squeeze around his head.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” You pant out, “I think I’m going to—”

You rock your hips as fast as you can as you feel your orgasm approaching, Jungkook’s hands squeeze your ass cheeks. He encourages you to rock against him even harder as he guides your hips. His tongue is laid flat against your clit as you ride him faster, you can feel how close you are. You thighs shake and you feel your pussy clench around nothing as your orgasm hits you. It hits you so fucking hard, like a strong wind that’s knocked you over.

“Fuuuuuucckkk.” You squeeze your thighs together, probably crushing Jungkook’s head as you come. You breathe so fucking hard as you try to hurry to come down from your amazing orgasm, you struggle to rise to your knees, so Jungkook helps lift you a bit until you are rising from his mouth.

You inch backwards until you are hovering over his chest, when he makes you sit down. You open your eyes, and take a look at the man before you.

His entire face is glistening with your cum and he looks so fucking happy about it. He’s trying to catch his own breath as he eyes you, his entire face wet with your cum. He is fucking grinning at you.

“You did so amazing baby.” He breathes out.

“That was incredible.” You admit. “Want to…” you start off hesitantly, “Want to fuck my mouth?”

Jungkook slams his eyes shut, and takes a few deep breaths before he slowly opens his eyes again.

“No…We should get cleaned up and go to sleep. Don’t you think?” he asks softly.

“Go…to sleep?” you ask, disappointed. “Sure.” You say kind of detached. “If that’s what you want.”

~~~~~~

Shame. Guilt. Regret.

It’s the next morning and you are trying your hardest to sleep away from Jungkook. But the bed is so small making it almost impossible. You didn’t sleep at all. Which feels unfair because Jungkook is next to you snoring away with a lazy arm thrown over your waist.

Shame. Guilt. Regret.

Jungkook has a girlfriend but you and him…oh my god you made Jungkook a cheater. You are the fucking worst. You let lust win in this dangerous game you two are playing, you let it win and shove it’s victory in your face. You hate yourself. You feel so fucking bad! Vanessa may not be your favorite person but cheating is never okay.

Shame. Guilt. Regret.

You wonder if Jungkook will feel these things too as he wakes up…you wonder if he will feel worse. Jungkook is a lot of things but a cheater isn’t one of them. He’s always felt strongly about the subject because of his mom and dad. Will he be weird with you? Will he feel worse than you? Will he be able to forgive himself?

Suddenly, Jungkook’s light snores go quiet and his arm is tightening around your waist just the slightest. He’s awake. He begins pulling you in closer to his body and then you feel his lips on your neck. He leaves just an innocent peck and then you think he may be going back to sleep with how comfortable he’s getting.

“Let’s get up.” You break the silence in the room, “I can hear people downstairs.”

“Oh, good morning.” You feel him smile on your neck, “Why don’t we stay here for just a few minutes?”

Has he not processed what he’s done? Where is his shame? His guilt? His regret? You feel sick.

“We really should get up.” You repeat. “I’m hungry.” You detach yourself from his body and rise from the bed. You don’t even look at him as you grab a change of clothes and exit the room to head towards the bathroom.

Jungkook is left on the bed wondering what’s up with you? Are you feeling awkward after last night? He thought you might be in a good mood…considering your orgasm…but instead your mood seems to be sour.

“Great.” Jungkook mutters underneath his breath. He gets up too, going to his bag to change for the day. When he’s done, he grabs his toiletries and makes his way to the bathroom. He stands outside the door, softly knocking. You swing the door open with your toothbrush hanging out of your mouth when you usher him inside.

“I’m going to wash up too…” Jungkook warns. He sets his small toiletry bag on the bathroom counter and takes out his face wash, moisturizer and tooth brush.

You nod your head as you continue to brush your teeth, toothpaste foaming at the corner of your mouth.

“How do you feel this morning?” Jungkook tries to make decent conversation as he applies his face wash to his face.

You spit out the toothpaste and rinse your mouth, wiping your face dry with a towel.

“Fine.” You spit out. “Just fine.”

Jungkook washes his face with water, and pats his face dry with a small towel, just nodding his head. He feels awkward.

“I feel fine too…” He adds, trying to add more to the convo. “Do you think grandma heard us last night?” he asks.

“Let’s not talk about last night.” You snap, “Can’t you read a room?”

You grab your things and leave the bathroom, leaving Jungkook wondering what the hell he did to make you so mad. Did you hate it that much? Maybe in the past he would have thought that but now…he knows how much you liked it. Loved it even. Jungkook doesn’t feel as insecure as before, he just knows the only way to solve this is to talk to you. Communication.

Communication would be a lot easier if he was given a god damn chance at talking to you but your mom is keeping you so busy in the kitchen with your gossipy aunt’s chitter chatter filling every crevice of the room. You nod along, even laugh as you listen. Jungkook is in the backyard with the three kids, keeping them entertained as you, Manny, Larissa, your aunt and mom bake in the kitchen with grandma sipping her tea at the table. Your dad, uncle and Daniel are in the living room watching some show, clanking their beer bottles together in celebration. Today is Christmas eve. Apparently this is when your family does most of the major celebrating, you guys bake and cook all day, eat a grand dinner and open presents. And Christmas day you just eat leftovers and chill.

The youngest kid has grown quite fond of Jungkook, she tends to feel left out by her two older brothers. Jungkook plays with her and she has already formed an attachment making your cousin in law laugh at them fondly.

“Your boyfriend is great with kids! Lucky you.” Larissa winks at you as she rolls the cookie dough on the counter.

“Yeah, yeah.” You say plainly.

“y/n…what’s wrong?” Manny comes up to your side, “Trouble in paradise?”

“No, Manny.” You snap. “But I bet you would like that.”

“Girls, let’s not fight.” Your aunt cuts in while your mom just looks at you worried.

“I would hardly call it a fight.” You hear your grandmas sweet voice over everyone else’s. “Now how are those drop cookies coming along girls?”

“They’re coming.” You say. “If Manny ever finishes with the dry ingredients.”

“I told you I was almost done, chill out.”

“Girls.” Your mom warns, “y/n, why don’t you go keep Jungkook company?”

Your eyes go from your moms to outside where Jungkook is and you panic.

“No, it’s okay…he’s fine.”

“You know what?” Your grandma speaks up, “I think I will if you won’t.” She sweetly chuckles. She stands from her place at the table, grabs her tea cup and makes her way to the outside table instead, closing the backyard door behind her.

“Hi dear.” Your grandma nods towards Jungkook as he plays pirates with the boys. He is laughing and pretending to have a hook hand, while the boys giggle and run around. The youngest claims she is the lost princess and that Jungkook has to save her. Grandma watches with joy, loving how well he gets along with the children.

“Hi.” Jungkook says out of breath from playing. He tells the kids to keep playing and that he will return shortly, they beg and whined that he stay but he says if they keep playing he will steal them some of the first cookies. The kids nod their head aggressively in agreement.

“How are you this afternoon?” he takes a seat across from her.

“Why is my granddaughter mad at you?” She smiles at Jungkook and his face drains of all color.

“Um…what do you mean?”

“Anyone with eyes knows you two have been strange all morning and afternoon.” Your grandma brings her tea to her mouth, “Maybe Manny was right, there is trouble in paradise.” She smiles again, “The key is to talk to her. Find out what’s going on.”

Jungkook groans, throwing his head into his hands. He lifts his head up again to speak but decides to just groan again in frustration.

“She won’t give me a chance to speak to her.” He admits. “She’s avoiding me.”

“Make the chance happen.” Grandma advices, “You’re a good kid, Jungkook. Even though you decided to lie to poor old me.”

“Lie?”

“You think I really couldn’t tell that you’re not really dating my granddaughter? I’ve been around too long to get fooled by something like that. But I see your feelings are real. So are hers. So why aren’t you two together?”

Jungkook sits here, absolutely stunned silent. He doesn’t know how to respond! Grandma begins sipping on her tea again when she lowers it to speak.

“Go talk to her honey. I want to see my grandbaby happy.”

“I guess we don’t have to pretend anymore.” Jungkook finally speaks.

“No, no. Keep going, it is quite entertaining, dear.” Your grandma chuckles, “Plus, it keeps Manny on her toes. Best if she thinks you are taken. Once she finds out that you are single…I fear for your life, boy.” Your grandma laughs out loud, making Jungkook join her.

“Fair enough.” He says, “But how do I…how do I get her to talk to me?”

“I’m sure you know her better than I do.” Grandma points out, “You’ll figure out what works best for her.”

And your grandma is right, he does know you best. But what will work? When you have avoided things in the past he has usually been the one to force answers out of you. Now is no different.

All the baking for the day is complete, you sit down at the table in the kitchen and let your head fall to the table top. You moan out in satisfaction that you all are finally done…how unfair that the guys got to just chill all day? Your mom has been cooking with your aunt for Christmas dinner while you and your cousins worked on pies and cookies. And they sat and drank beer. Typical.

“Hey.” You feel Jungkook’s warm breath hit your ear and you look up at him, his face so close to yours as he is leaned down to speak to you.

“Can we talk?”

“Nothing to talk about.” You lay your head back down on the table until you feel your arm being pulled upwards, causing you to stand to your feet.

“Don’t be a brat. Let’s go.” Jungkook pulls you up, and starts pulling you in the direction of the staircase.

“Let go of me.” She say weakly, “I can walk myself.”

Jungkook let’s go of your arm and instead reaches for your hand, he interlocks his fingers with yours and you roll your eyes.

“I said, I can walk myself.”

Jungkook only shakes his head in response, guiding you up the stairs until you two reach the bedroom, you both walk inside as Jungkook closes the door behind you two.

“Now talk.” He softly commands.

“Nothing to talk about?”

“y/n…” he warns and you feel your eyes start to sting.

“We fucked up, Jungkook.” You blink back the stinging in your eyes, shame, guilt, and regret joining you.

“How so?”

“What do you mean ‘How so?’” you ask incredulously. “Do you not remember the events of last night? You have a girlfriend!” you throw your hands in the air, “You are a cheater! I’m the one you cheated with…oh my god…”

Jungkook’s eyes widen at your words and he starts shaking his head. He tries walking closer to you but you only step back until your back meets the wall.

“We fucked up.” You cry out. “I’m so sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Jungkook asks softly. You are starting to wonder why this dude is not panicking.

“I made you a cheater.” You cry. Jungkook walks closer to you again until he’s wrapping his arms around your waist.

“You didn’t.” he whispers. “Vanessa and I…we aren’t together right now.”

You sniffle into his shoulder as you process his words…not together right now? What does that even mean?

“She broke up with me.” He begins to explain, “Said she wants to break up until New Year’s but I don’t think we will be getting back together.”

“Why not?” you whisper.

“I…I don’t know.”

“Oh.” You untangle yourself from Jungkook’s arms, “But you aren’t a cheater?”

“No.”

You sigh out in relief, a huge, long, heavy sigh. Thank God. You feel shame, guilt, and regret leave your body making you feel ten times lighter.

“So I have nothing to feel bad for?”

“Absolutely nothing.” Jungkook smiles at you, “Now can we go enjoy Christmas? I cannot wait to give you your present.”

You pull on your hair, feeling nervous suddenly. Is he just going to brush past this too? Are you two not going to bring up last night in more detail? Figure out what it means for you two? Are you two just friends who occasionally hook up? That’s not what you want. What do you want? “Sure.”

~~~~~

“Dinner was delicious, honey.” Your dad says reaching over to cup your moms cheek. “I think I ate way too much this year.”

“Oh sweetheart, you say that every year.” Your mom laughs, “What about everyone else? Eat enough?”

Everyone around the table groans in happiness, nodding their heads yes and complimenting the dinner.

“Well, I suppose we should get on to the presents portion of the evening?” Your mom stands from her chair, “Let’s all go into the living room around the tree.”

Everyone makes their way into the living room, you and Jungkook being the last two to make it inside. You two stand here awkwardly, not entirely too sure where to sit since it is a bit crowded. Your grandma points at you two with a cheeky smile.

“Mistletoe.” She yells out. “Mistletoe!”

You point at yourself in question and then at Jungkook. What mistletoe? Then you see Jungkook looking up and his face turning completely red. Oh.

“We really don’t—”

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” you hear your various family members chanting. Your parents grinning like fools as they chant as well. Your grandma winks at Jungkook and Jungkook goes even redder.

“We don’t have to Jungkook” you whisper. Jungkook clears his throat repeatedly until his face begins going back to his normal color.

“No, it’s tradition right?”

“I mean, I guess.” You shrug, you begin to turn red yourself.

“C’mere.” He reaches for your hand and pulls you in to his chest, then his other hand goes to cup your jaw. “Just one kiss.” He whispers.

You feel all his body heat enter your body, his touch making you so fucking warm. You nod your head pathetically as you tilt your head up. Jungkook smiles down at you and leans in just a bit, his forehead pressing against yours. Your eyes go to his lips, they are pink and his bottom lip is plump. Jungkook leans lower until his mouth is hovering over yours and he very innocently pecks your lips. You wish his kiss had lingered longer but it is short but sweet. He leans away from you, his forehead still pushed up against your own when you surge forward and kiss him again.

You hear the hollering of your cousin Daniel and his wife Larissa, Manny probably pouting. Your aunt and uncle are giggling and your parents laughing but telling you to behave. Your grandma snickers to herself and starts softly clapping her hands together.

“I thought I said just one?” Jungkook teases, his hand lowering to his side but his other hand keeps holding yours.

“I couldn’t help myself.” You admit confidently “Now let’s do presents!” you turn to face everyone else.

“Agreed!” your mom yells out excitedly. “First, we have Manny from Daniel…”

The night continues, everyone exchanging presents. Your parents loved their gifts, your mom thought the necklace was very thoughtful and your dad says he would love to take you to the game with him. You give Jungkook your gift, he yelps in excitement when he unwraps his gift when he sees the boots.

“Thanks baby, I know I haven’t shut up about these shoes for months!” he leans in to hug you. “Now it’s my turn.” He grins.

He searches the tree for the last gift of the night: Jungkook to you. He grabs the box and hands it to you, a shy smile making its way on his lips.

“Here, for you.” He sits back and waits for you to unwrap it. Your parents and the rest of your relatives wait as well.

“Okay, here I go.” You begin unwrapping the box, throwing the gift paper to the side on the floor and are met with a brown box. You raise a brow at Jungkook and he just smiles widely.

“Go on,” he says, “Open it.”

So you do. You carefully open the box and pull out a wooden box—a music box. The top of the music box is glass with a photo of you and Jungkook, your heart absolutely melts into two.

“Open it, open it.” He urges excitedly.

“Okay…”

You lift the top of the music box, revealing its insides. Your absolute favorite song in the world starts playing and you feel the waterworks coming. This song means everything to you. He knows it is your favorite.

“Read what it says…” he mentions shyly. “There’s a message.”

I will always believe in you. I will always support you. And I will always love you.

You read the message to yourself a few times over and you start sniffling, a few tears leaving your eyes. You look up to make eye contact with Jungkook and he smiles. You close the box and slip it back inside the box and set it to the side, you crawl towards Jungkook and hug him. Your arms wrap around his neck and you throw your head into his shoulder, and you start mumbling your thanks.

“Of course baby.” He whispers into your hair, “I mean it.”

“I know you do…” you murmur. “I know.” You sniffle harder. “And I love you more.”

You, yourself aren’t entirely sure how you meant the words ‘I love you’ in this moment. You are so overwhelmed and overjoyed that you aren’t sure if you said it platonically or romantically. All you know is that you meant it.

“That’s impossible.” Jungkook chuckles. You slowly leave his arms, feeling embarrassed now that you’re crying in front of everyone.

“What did it say?” Manny asks, “You didn’t even share!”

“Let’s leave it between the love birds.” Your grandma says.

“Love birds indeed.” Your mom grins, “Well, Santa comes nice and early tomorrow!” she says to the kids.

“Are you sure about leaving them here tonight?” Daniel asks, “Santa can come to the hotel too.”

“Don’t be silly,” your mom says, “I will put them to bed on the sofas. It will be fine.”

“Okay, we will see you all bright and early tomorrow morning then.” Larissa begins packing up their things.

“Heading out already?” Your dad asks, “Well, take some food with you.”

You and Jungkook stay seated on the floor, as the rest begin cleaning up. Your mom picks up all the gift wrapping paper off the floor while your dad puts away gifts and you and Jungkook sit side by side.

“Did you like your gift?” Jungkook inches closer to you.

“I love it, Jungkook.” You lean into his shoulder, resting your head on him. “It makes me so happy.”

“What about me…do I make you happy?”

“So happy.” You admit. “I hope I can make you this happy too.”

“You do.” Jungkook leans his head on top of yours. “Like, you have no idea.” He reaches for your hand and tangles his fingers with yours.

“Do you two want to head to bed? We got the cleaning covered.” Your mom offers. You yawn in response, showing her that you could use some sleep.

“Yeah, okay.” You accept gratefully, you stand up taking Jungkook with you. You two say your goodnight’s and head towards the stairs up to your bedroom.

“Goodnight you two.” Your grandma sings, sending a wink to Jungkook and he goes red again.

“Why does she keep winking at you?” You wonder out loud.

“No idea…” Jungkook is quick to respond. “Weird…”

When you and Jungkook get to your room, you both rush to get changed and wash up in the bathroom. He finishes before you, settling into the bed. You come in next, wearing your sleep shorts and a tank top. You turn the lights off and make your way to your bed, you slip inside and groan in satisfaction…ah, sleep time.

“Hey y/n…”

“Hm?” you sleepily roll over to your side to face Jungkook, “What’s up?”

“I just want to say…” he pauses and bites his lip. “Thanks. I just want to say thanks.”

“For what babe?”

“For bringing me for Christmas…this is the first time I have felt so at home in years.” He admits, “You have no idea what this means to me.”

“I’m glad you’re happy Jungkook.”

“More than happy.” He corrects. “You have no idea what you mean to me.”

“Then tell me.”

“Can I show you instead?” Jungkook leans closer to you, tilting his head at the right angle. “Can I kiss you?”

You can’t help but swallow hard, Jungkook wants to kiss you? To show you what you mean to him? That’s romantic right? You aren’t totally reading this wrong?

“Why?” you ask, gulping down your spit.

“Because.” He breathes out softly, “Please.”

You can smell the toothpaste on his breath, you can smell his laundry detergent on his clothes, you can smell the shampoo in his hair. You inhale him and hold your breath.

“If I say no?” you blink up at him and he smiles softly.

“Then I will respect that.” He answers honestly.

With your eyes still adjusting to the darkness it is hard to see his eyes but you just know they are soft and inviting.

“Jungkook…” You scoot closer to him, moving your head to be at level with his face. “Baby…” you whimper out as you lean in closer to his face.

“Is that a yes?” He asks, his breath hitting your lips. “Because—”

Your lips find his in a slow, tender kiss. You peck his lips over and over and you can feel his lips shaping into a smile. You pull away after a few seconds, feeling breathless after the short kiss.

“Goodnight Jungkook.” You scoot down until your head hits his chest and you snuggle into it.

“Goodnight baby.” Jungkook smiles, laying on his back as he stares up at the dark ceiling. How will he find sleep tonight? His heart is racing in his chest. Are you finally starting to understand his feelings? He knows he hasn’t talked about them yet…but he will. Yes, he definitely will.

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (6)

(the next chapter is heeeeeeeeeeeere!!! hope you guys like it!! there’s also a mini series connected to this called Journal Entries, though I don’t know how long I’m going to be continuing it. Check it out if you feel like it!)

Ch.1 / Ch.5 / Ch.7

Chapter 6: Don’t Be Suspicious

Marinette tilted her head from side to side, doing a subtle dance to the music that played through her earbuds. She tapped her pencil on the desk with the beat and mouthed Jagged Stone’s lyrics as they came, thoroughly enjoying the electric guitar in the background. At Dupont, listening to music with earbuds was a ‘no-no’ despite her efforts. Principle Damocles, along with a few of the teachers, insisted that it hindered their drive to focus and work on school. The thought wasn’t entirely misguided- Marinette was already re-reading this textbook page for the third time with no hope of comprehension in sight -but she enjoyed the liberties that came with her new school nonetheless.

In all honesty, Rosemary didn’t allow headphones either, but the librarian wasn’t a snitch, and Marinette wasn’t a saint. So, during her assigned study halls, she would hop over to the school’s library and jam out to Jagged Stone. It was a nice reprieve from the strict guidelines that Rosemary held for their students and gave her time to unwind before her next round of overly-complicated classes. 

She was about ready to start banging her head to the song- the lyrics were just too good -when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Her gaze flicked upwards towards Claude, who was sitting beside her. He’d suggested that they study together during the one study hall they shared, and Marinette, being friends with him and genuinely enjoying his company, agreed. He was actually the one who told her about the lax librarian in the first place.

Once Claude was certain that he had her attention, he tapped a finger to his ear, silently requesting her to take out an earbud. Marinette gladly obliged and paused her Jagged Stone music to hear him better.

“What are you listening to? You look like you’re really jamming out.” He asked curiously.

Marinette held up her phone for him to see the song cover. “Just Jagged Stone. He normally helps me think, but I’m starting to wonder if that only works for design sketches.”

Claude gasped so hard that she thought he was going to choke, and an ear-splitting grin spread across his lips.

“You listen to Jagged Stone too? He’s one of my favorites!” The brunette said enthusiastically.

Marinette straightened with delight. “Seriously? He’s been a favorite of mine since I was twelve!”

“Ten!” Claude trilled.

Elation bubbled up in Marinette’s chest. Finally! Someone to talk to about Jagged Stone! She hadn’t found a kindred spirit since Luka and.. well.. She hasn’t met another Jagged Stone fan in a while. 

“Did you hear the new album that just came out?” She asked, folding her arms across the table and leaning onto them. When she first came to Rosemary, she’d naturally assumed that no one there listened to rock. Everyone was prepped and poised and rich. Their tastes were bound to be much ‘finer’ than hers.

Looking at it now, though, it made perfect sense for Claude to listen to Jagged Stone. He was an energetic and passionate person, and that’s what Rock n’ Roll was all about. She also had to remind herself that she was now a Rosemary student. If she listened to rock music, it was possible that her other classmates did as well. The school wasn’t a complete hive mind, after all. 

Claude scoffed playfully. “Did I? I was the first in line for the cd! The songs were a total masterpiece!”

Before Marinette could reply, another scoff interrupted their conversation, one that wasn’t nearly as playful. She glanced across the table to Felix, who had looked up from his book. He’d shared the same study hall hour that they did, and Claude, being who he was, coaxed the blond into joining them in the library.

Well.. ‘coax’ probably wasn’t the right word. It was more of Claude dragging Marinette to the table that Felix was already sitting at and convincing Felix to stay seated once they got there. 

Felix’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, and the corners of his lips twitched in a scowl, the same way they always did when he was about to criticize something. 

“No type of rock music could ever be considered a ‘masterpiece’,” He stated matter-of-factly, “especially not that man’s noise.”

Marinette gasped, slapping a hand to her chest in offense. “Jagged Stone’s music is not ‘noise’.”

“Forget it, Mari.” Claude cut in, putting a hand on her shoulder as he shot Felix a glare. “This guy will never understand Jagged’s art.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “I’d hardly call throwing a bunch of instruments together and screaming into the microphone ‘art’.”

Marinette crossed her arms and huffed. Jagged Stone didn’t scream. His voice was just rough, but even if he did scream, that shouldn’t give Felix the right to be rude. Everyone had their own tastes. Marinette didn’t go around bashing XY fans, now, did she?

“Have you even listened to him?” She asked indignantly. 

“I’ve had the unfortunate experience of listening to rock, yes. That’s how I know it’s in bad taste.” 

Marinette’s fingers dug into her skin. “But have you listened to Jagged Stone?”

The grated words caused Felix to pause. 

“..I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

Marinette sighed and tugged out one of her earbuds to hand it to him. “Here.”

Felix rose a brow, not moving an inch. “What do you expect me to do with that?”

“You’re going to listen to at least one of Jagged Stone’s songs.” She told him. “Then you can tell me what you think.”

Felix was an extremely opinionated person. He tended to say exactly what he thought without considering how it would affect others around him. At first, his snaps and snide remarks put her on edge. She would worry about angering him and making him dislike her from the things she’d say or do. But after spending more time around him, Marinette realized that he wasn’t angry as much as he was easily irritated. He would get annoyed at things that he viewed as out of place or illogical, then, after fixing the problem or telling someone else to fix it, he would move on. It just so happened that Allegra, Allan, and Claude were constantly doing things that were ‘illogical’, ‘unnecessary’, and- her personal favorite -‘downright preposterous’.

That being said, Marinette still didn’t enjoy challenging Felix when she disagreed with him. His words were sharp and blunt, whether he meant them to be or not, and arguing was never her strong suit, anyway. Therefore, she found it best to merely listen and watch as the rest of the group continued to push Felix’s buttons relentlessly.

Right now, however, was a different story. Right now he was denouncing an incredibly talented artist who he hadn’t even bothered to listen to before condemning, and Marinette wouldn’t stand for it.

Felix’s gaze shifted to the earbud. She could see the command turning in his mind, could see him deciding between being difficult and resisting or simply being nice for once. 

“..Fine,” He relented, taking the offered headphone, “but don’t be upset when my opinion doesn’t change.”

Marinette tried not to smile too much and quickly started scrolling through her playlist to choose a song. If she only had one shot to convince Felix of Jagged’s greatness, she needed to play one of his best works.

“Wow..” Claude remarked. “You actually got him to listen to a song. That’s farther than I’ve ever gotten.”

Felix rolled his eyes, but refrained from commenting. Marinette didn’t reply either. She didn’t want to waste the opportunity she’d been given by joking with Claude.

She found a song a few seconds later and eagerly set the phone between them as it began to play. This had been a song that she’d listened to for at least a week or two before moving on to the next one. She knew the lyrics inside out and could quite possibly sing them in her sleep. If anything was going to convince Felix that rock was also a musical art, it would be this song.

Felix’s expression twisted with annoyance as the drums kicked up to join the electric base. 

“See, this is what I’m talking about.” He sighed. “The notes are overbearing and chaotic. How can you enjoy it?”

“Because they’re not chaotic.” Marinette replied, gathering all the patience she could. “It might get loud sometimes, but the drums and guitar create a steady beat for Jagged Stone to sing to.”

Just then, Jagged Stone’s voice rang through the headphones, gruff and strong. Marinette’s lips quirked up into an involuntary smile, but Felix, unsurprisingly, wasn’t as thrilled as she was.

“He doesn’t even sing about anything important.” He said. “The words are completely random.”

Marinette resisted the urge to groan. How could someone be so smart yet so stupid at the same time? 

“The lyrics aren’t random. And they might not be important to you, but they are to him.” She tried to explain. “Jagged writes about the things he loves and tells it to the world through song. His music is full of passion, and it drives others to be more passionate too. Myself included.”

Felix glanced up at her for a moment, no doubt scrutinizing her claims, and tisked. He then put a hand over his borrowed earbud and closed his eyes to try to listen to the music better. 

Although it was a small, begrudging act, Marinette couldn’t help grinning. He didn’t like rock music, didn’t even want to entertain the idea of liking it, yet here he was, listening to Jagged Stone’s music because she asked him to. He was trying hard to understand something she enjoyed, and that meant a lot, especially when one considers how stubborn he can be.

“I suppose I can understand what you mean..” Felix mumbled a few seconds later. “The notes aren’t nearly as melodic as what I’m used to, but it must take some form of talent to mash banging instruments together and make it sound decent.”

Marinette beamed. It was a backhanded comment, but she could accept it. 

“Okay, my turn.” She said, extending her hand towards him.

Felix frowned. “Pardon?”

“You said that Jagged Stone isn’t what you’re used to, right? I wanna know what you’re used to.” She replied matter-of-factly. “Let me listen to one of your songs.” 

Felix’s frown deepened, but he pulled out his earbuds to hand one to her. 

“I suppose I could show you the one I’ve been listening to recently..” He muttered to himself. “Just be careful with these. They’re expensive.” 

Marinette happily plucked one of the earbuds out of Felix’s hands and put it on. The cord between the earbuds was shorter than hers, so they both had lean across the table to share. She didn’t mind the closeness, though. They’d only be there for a moment.

When the music finally began, all Marinette could really do was snort. Classical music. Of course Felix would listen to classical music. Each note had a purpose, place, and expression in the song. Yes, other music had that too, but most of the time, there were words that people sang to excuse repetitiveness of the beat. Classical music had to carry its own weight, and that made all the difference. 

“What?” Felix asked, referring to her laugh.

Marinette put a hand to her mouth with an apologetic smile. “Oh, nothing. It just makes sense for you to listen to classical music.”

Felix rose a brow, but she waved him off. There was no point explaining it.

“Anyway, I can see why you would like this, because it’s really pretty, but I, personally, find it a little boring.” She said honestly. “The notes are too slow. I would fall asleep before I could finish a song.”

“It’s not just a song, though.” Felix argued. “It’s a story. Listen closer.”

Marinette did as she was told and closed her eyes, putting a hand over her earbud like Felix had done earlier. The piano and violin mingled together in a soft symphony, lulling up and down as the symphony progressed. A lone guitar played a joyful tune in the background.

“The protagonist is admiring their lover.” Felix explained. “They’re making promises of being together always.”

Drums bubbled up behind the piano and violin as the guitar faded, causing the music to shift into a tense atmosphere.

“The father of the lover is coming between them, forcing a separation.” 

Violin strings shake with the drums, and the piano gradually grows louder to emphasize the ominous presence. Once the tension is drawn out to its absolute limit, the music breaks with bursts of violins and trumpets, signifying the beginning of a fight.

“The protagonist refuses to back down, and although they are worried, they stand up to fight for their love anyway.” 

Marinette cracked an eye open to look at Felix. His eyes were now closed as well, and a soft smile ghosted his lips. She hadn’t taken him to be a romantic, but he appeared to be deeply engrossed in the ‘story’. Did he read romance novels often? She assumed all of the books he carried around were about historical facts or intricate philosophies, not trials of love or daring confessions.

“Do you hear it?” Felix asked, his eyes abruptly opening. Their heads were already close from sharing headphones, but his looking up only brought them closer. It was a miracle their noses didn’t bump together.

Marinette froze, her eyes widening at being caught. Was it weird that she was staring at him before he opened his eyes? It shouldn’t be, right? Staring at your friend wasn’t a crime. 

Say something. Marinette’s mind screamed. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t say anything. She could hardly even think straight. She was too lost in the roundness of his eyes or how long his eyelashes were or whether she was too close to him and have his eyes always had those little specks of blue in them?

Marinette squeaked, finally gaining enough sense to lurch backwards. Felix’s earbud was tugged out of her ear, but she didn’t care. Right now she needed distance. 

“S-sorry!” She blurted out. “I-I mean- uhm -the music was fine, or- great. I-.. I could really hear the- the story.”

Her hands covered her face in a vain attempt to hide her blush. Her cheeks were absolutely burning from embarrassment. How could she get so flustered? Wasn’t it her idea to share the earbuds?

Felix was strangely quiet as he picked up the abandoned earbud and paused the song. Oh gosh, he probably thought she was a total weirdo now. (If he hadn’t thought that already.)

Marinette peeked through her fingers, searching his face for judgement, but he simply wrapped the cord of the earbuds around his phone. Although his eyebrows were furrowed slightly, the rest of his expression was neutral. Was that a good sign or no?

“Yes, that’s why I enjoy it.” He finally said once his phone was put away. His tone was graciously composed, not acknowledging her humiliating outburst. “The composers put real effort and work into their music. They carefully aligned each note to make sure it portrays their story and theme correctly. That’s what I consider to be a masterpiece.”

Marinette nodded. “Y-Yeah.. That makes sense.. I still think Jagged Stone’s music is also a work of art, though.”

She settled back into her original seat, as did Felix. 

“Agree to disagree, I suppose.” Felix shrugged.

An astounded laugh came from the left of them, and the two turned back to Claude. Marinette had admittedly forgotten that he was there.

“I, for one, am impressed.” The brunette announced. “You actually got Felix to entertain a different opinion. He never says ‘agree to disagree’! It’s always just ‘you’re wrong’.”

Felix scoffed. “Don’t act like I’m unreasonable. I’m stubborn in my opinions because they’re logical and sound, while your arguments against them are hardly either.”

Claude rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Do you think you guys can argue about cephalopods now? I’m supposed to be doing a report on them for science.”

Marinette chuckled, finally relaxing in her chair again. “Sorry, Claude. I don’t have any strong opinions about cephalopods.”

“Maybe if you read a book every once in a while, you’d find something to write about.” Felix added, being ever the supportive one.

“Hey! I do read!” Claude defended. “I just don’t know what to write about. Should I argue a random point about cephalopods or should I just write about a bunch of facts? Am I supposed to list my sources or can I say whatever I want? What does the school board want from me?”

“Claude, you’re a sophomore.” Felix stated bluntly. “If you don’t know how to write papers now, I can’t help you.”

Claude groaned and sunk into his chair, and Marinette offered a comforting pat on the shoulder.

“Anyway,” He grumbled, rubbing his hands over his face, “speaking of cephalopods, have you guys heard about the new aquarium exhibit that they just opened at Aquarium de Paris?”

Marinette perked up. “Wait, really? I didn’t know about that!”

“Yeah, I think it’s something to do with the sharks.” Claude smiled. “They’ve got this new tank and everything.”

Marinette wiggled in her seat with delight. She always loved aquariums. “That’s so cool! I’ll have to ask Maman and Papa about going to see it.”

“Oh, why don’t we all go together?” Claude suggested. “I wanna see the new exhibit too, and I’m sure Allegra and Allan will want to go.”

“Sure! When do you think you’ll be free to go see it?”

Claude leaned back in his chair as he thought about it. “Uh.. maybe this Sunday? I don’t think I have anything going on then. Does that work for you?”

“I’ll have to check with my parents, but that should be okay. Do you want me to tell Allan about it during our next class?”

Claude nodded. “Yeah, that sounds great. I’ll tell Allegra.”

Marinette smiled and turned to Felix. “Are you gonna come with us, Felix?” 

A part of her felt awkward asking, as Felix didn’t normally enjoy the group outings, but a bigger part of her would feel guilty if she didn’t invite him when they were inviting everyone else.

Felix glanced up from his book with a questioning gaze. He.. hadn’t been listening.

“We’re going to Aquarium de Paris this Sunday. Are you coming?” Claude asked again.

Felix shrugged. “I suppose Allegra will drag me along either way, so why not?”

Marinette bit her lip to hold back a giddy squeal. This was going to be great! Getting to see all of the new fish and getting to spend time with her new friends? What could be better than that?

~~~~~~

Felix drew in a deep breath as he made his way towards the school exit. Aside from the soft chattering and echoing footsteps of the students around him, it was quiet, and he reveled in the silence while he could. Leaving school alone was a rarity now, especially since Marinette joined their group. Allegra, Claude, and Allan had always been insistent on smothering him with activities, but with the new ‘recruit’, the time they spent together has doubled. The trio wanted everyone to be together constantly. That included Felix. 

He sighed, shifting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. The numerous study dates, get-togethers, and group lunches had pushed his social battery to its absolute limit. So the small reprieve was greatly appreciated. 

It did feel strange, though, not hearing Claude’s rambling or Allegra’s scolding or Marinette’s laughter. They’d become a steady background noise to the rest of his daily life, and now that they were absent, Felix found himself glancing over his shoulder, waiting for one of them to pop up.

Of course, no one came, and Felix forced his eyes forward to push away the growing anticipation. There was no need to mull over it. He would see them tomorrow at school, and on top of that, they had another outing scheduled for this Sunday to visit the aquarium. By the end of the week, Felix would certainly have his fill of seeing their faces or hearing their voices.

The sun beat down on Felix as he stepped outside, and he welcomed it whole-heartedly. The biting cold of January was never something he fancied, save for the fact that it kept everyone else indoors. 

He started down the front stairs, letting his mind wander back to the conversation he’d had with Marinette during their shared study hall. Her boldness during their discussion of musical preferences had surprised him, since she usually steered clear of any confrontations. He couldn’t blame her for her sudden tenacity, though. People tended to be extremely attached to their music, and Felix had criticized her tastes. It only made sense for her to defend herself.

On that note, Jagged Stone? Really? He’d assumed Claude was the only one to have such bizarre tastes. Nevertheless, if Marinette approved of the man, Felix wasn’t going to question too much. She still created those phenomenal designs, after all, meaning she must have a good eye for things.

Bits and pieces of the song that Marinette had requested him to listen to resurfaced in his mind. If he was being honest, it wasn’t as horrible as he’d claimed, but blaring drums and pounding beats simply didn’t help him relax like classical music did.

Felix closed his eyes briefly as he recalled the piano piece he’d shown Marinette a few minutes later. It was a favorite of his, one that he listened to often while reading alone in his room, and he did his best to explain the mastery of the artwork. The passion, the yearning, the love- it can be difficult to express, especially when he hadn’t experienced those things first hand. That’s the main reason he found the piece so interesting.

The image of Marinette’s delicate features flicked through his mind. He’d looked up at her to gawk her reaction, to see if she understood what he was trying to say, but he’d found her staring right back at him instead. Her almond-shaped eyes were round with shock, and he couldn’t help thinking about the first time they met, when he first realized how blue her irises were. They almost reminded him of tiny, swirling oceans, deep and mesmerizing. 

When she jerked back a few seconds later, something akin to disappointment had laced through Felix’s stomach, and even now, he wasn’t sure why that was. Perhaps he wanted to admire the color a tad longer. 

Either way, Marinette plopped into her seat, her cheeks flushing a dark scarlet, and it was only then that Felix noticed his own racing heartbeat. Again, he was at a loss for the cause. Was it because she startled him by lurching backwards? He didn’t remember flinching.

The screeching of tires pulled Felix from his thoughts, and his gaze turned to the road in front of him. A silver car had parked on the curb. 

A frown tugged at the corner of Felix’s lips. That was odd. Parking on the curbs near Rosemary wasn’t allowed unless someone was being picked up or dropped off, yet no students were waving the car down or exiting the vehicle.

The back door to the car swung open, causing Felix to raise a brow. Spoke too soon.

A boy jumped out of the car, his golden blonde hair shining in the sunlight as he ran towards the front steps. Something about him seemed familiar, but Felix couldn’t place his finger on what.

The boy slowed to a stop in front of him and offered a friendly smile. Yeah, Felix has definitely seen this guy before. But where?

“Hey!” The stranger greeted. “Sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for a girl. Her name is Marinette?”

Felix narrowed his eyes at the name. Marinette as in Marinette Dupain-Cheng? As in, the girl who was inside talking to Allegra right now? Why would he be looking for her?

“She’s about this tall.” The boy continued, holding his hand just above his shoulder for reference. “She’s got raven-colored hair that she normally puts into pigtails, and wears pink capris and a black jacket. She would have started attending this school about two weeks ago?”

The more he spoke, the more suspicious Felix became. This guy knew a lot about Marinette, but Felix didn’t know a thing about him. Was he a friend? An enemy? Marinette didn’t mention meeting someone after school. Not that she was obligated to share her personal connections and schedules, but what if this was the person that’s been wanting to ‘talk’ with her? The stalker?

Don’t overreact. Felix told himself. This could be a perfectly harmless visit from an old friend of hers. Just because I wasn’t aware of him coming doesn’t mean he has ill intentions. 

...but just in case..

“Apologies, but have we met?” Felix asked, dodging the blonde’s question. He didn’t want to disclose Marinette’s location unless he had her permission. There were too many cases where an unknowing co-worker blabbed about the victim’s schedule to the stalker, and he refused to be one of those idiots.

The boy pulled a sheepish expression and rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh, no, we haven’t, but I can see why you would think that. My face is kind of everywhere with all of the ads Father’s had me model in recently.”

Felix blinked, the mix of familiarity and the boy’s words clicking together in his mind. Of course! This was that same, obnoxious face that Paris has been obsessed with for the better half of five years. The amount of billboards and posters of this guy that were plastered around the city was enough to make Felix gag. He couldn’t look in any direction without seeing him!

“You’re Adrien Agreste.” He stated, a hint of irritation accidentally rising to his tone. Not only has this ‘sunshine child’- or so Paris called him -been plaguing his eyes for at least two years since Gabriel upped his campaigning game, he also happens to have the same name that was scribbled on Marinette’s birthday cards, the ones she’d offered to give away. Was that a coincidence? 

Felix was leaning towards ‘no’.

“Yep.” Adrien chuckled. “That’s me. Anyway, is she here? I really need to talk with her.”

“He really just wants to ‘talk’.” 

Marinette’s bitter words resurfaced in his mind, and Felix narrowed his eyes. The chances of Adrien Agreste being an enemy were steadily rising.

“I’m afraid I don’t know a girl by that name or description,” he lied, “and there hasn’t been a new student here since last year.”

If Adrien turned out to truly be one of Marinette’s friends, he would apologize, but Felix wasn’t going to risk compromising her if his suspicions were correct. 

Confusion etched its way onto the blond’s features, and he glanced down at the ground as he muttered, “I could have sworn she said ‘Rosemary’..”

Felix rose a brow. Marinette told him which school she was attending? Or did another girl give him the information?

Before either could say anything more, a car horn sounded in front of them, and Adrien glanced over his shoulder to the driver of the silver car. 

“Ah, I gotta go. Thanks for your help!” 

Felix didn’t bother returning Adrien’s wave, instead watching him hop down the front steps. Although it would annoy him, he hoped that the blond actually was a friend of Marinette’s, for her sake. He can’t imagine her being happy with the news that someone had followed her to school.

“Oh, hey, Felix! I thought you were leaving.”

Speak of the devil, and he shall appear..

The silver car had just disappeared around the corner when the girl in question skipped down the front steps next to him. She flashed him a bright smile, making his insides churn with guilt. Should he tell her? She needed to know, right? 

“I was,” He said, choosing his next words carefully, “but I got held up.”

Marinette chuckled. “I know how that goes.”

Felix nodded, his gaze shifting to the side. He didn’t want to worry her, but he couldn’t let her be ignorant of a possibly dangerous situation either.

“.. Were you, by chance, expecting anyone at the school today?”

Marinette frowned and shook her head, unfortunately confirming Felix’s concerns. “No, why?”

“Well..” He hesitated. “Someone stopped by and asked for you. A man by the name Adrien Agreste.”

Marinette’s entire body went rigid, and the blood drained from her face. Felix held back a grimace at the sight. She looked more frightened than two weeks ago when she first ran into the school to hide.

“D-Did you-”

“No.” Felix cut her off, already knowing what she was going to ask. “I told him you didn’t attend this school.”

Her shoulders slumped with relief, but he could still see the nervousness in her eyes. “Oh, thank goodness.. Thank you so much, Felix.”

“Is he the one who wanted to talk to you two weeks ago?”

Marinette faltered at the question, but nodded. “He went to my old school..”

Felix frowned. If he remembered his mother’s ramblings correctly, Adrien Agreste started attending Dupont not too long ago. Was that Marinette’s old school then?

“His father’s a powerful man.” He said. “You need to be careful.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. “Oh no! I mean- Thank you for the warning.. But Adrien isn’t like that. He’s persistent, but he doesn’t threaten people.”

Felix wasn’t entirely sure that he believed that, but he wouldn’t argue. Marinette was dealing with enough already. “I believe he said something about a girl telling him that you’re attending Rosemary, but he didn’t mention the name of her.”

Marinette’s eyebrows knitted together. “A girl?”

“Yes, something like ‘I could have sworn she said Rosemary’.”

Marinette chewed on her bottom lip, obviously troubled by the news. Felix didn’t blame her. Stalking can be a serious matter. (even if she didn’t quite consider it stalking.)

“Would you like me to drive you home?” He offered, yet again. 

And again, Marinette refused by shaking her head. 

“Thanks, but it’s only two blocks. I’ll be fine.” She assured.

The decision didn’t sit well with him, but Felix nodded anyway. It wasn’t his place to tell her what she could or couldn’t do, or what precautions he personally thought she should take.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then.” He said, finally continuing his descent down the stairs. 

“Yep, see you tomorrow.” Marinette smiled.

They parted ways after that, Marinette heading down the sidewalk and Felix going to find his driver, but the urge to watch her didn’t leave his mind until she completely vanished around the corner.

Felix sighed, tapping his finger against the car door as he settled into the backseat of his car. Why did he want to follow her so badly?

Tag List:  @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas @thewheezingbubbledragon @crazylittlemunchkin @unabashedbookworm @moonystars14 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @2confused-2doanything  @magnificentcrapposts  @moonnette

[hacked-by-jake]

Jake gets infuriated when he sees mc (Natasha) is giving more time to one of her college friend (Chris)

She didn’t notice..

Summary: Not enough talk, too many misunderstandings, too fast condemnation, too much jealousy. Too much attention and too much fear. 

Pairing: Jealous!JakexMc (Natasha)

Words: 3,8k

Warnings: Just a little swearing. Jealous Jake. Slightly arrogant Jake. (Fast plot (I'm sorry))

A/n: Thank you very much for your request, I hope you will like it and that it is okay. Otherwise have a nice evening/ day/ night and take care of yourself, stay healthy.

"Yeah, you’re right, class today was really funny, chemistry went a bit wrong, but next time we’ll make it, okay?" you finish the voice memo to your classmate Chris. You just come home from college and poured yourself a glass of water in the kitchen. "Hello MC" Jake greets you while he come out from his study. "Hi babe" you also greet him while you unlock your phone again to listen to Chris' quick response. You hold the phone to your ear and giggles as he says he thought the blue liquid was different than he thought. Jake sits on one of the kitchen chairs and watches you quietly. When you take your phone off your ear, he asks you, "Who are you talking to?" “Just with Chris from my college class, we had a funny accident in chemistry today," you tell him. "Who is Chris?" he asks a little skeptical.

"He’s not from here, he moved here to go to university, his father runs a big computer technology company. I don’t know exactly what the name is, but it’s one of the greatest, really cool, right? You two would probably get along" you excitedly tell him about Chris. He nods briefly for confirmation and you frown, "I don’t think so" he speaks so softly that you can’t understand him properly. "Everything okay?" you ask carefully. "Yes, all right, I have to keep working, okay?" The question was more rhetorical than he already got up to go back to his study. You shrug your shoulders and decide to answer Chris. "Mistakes happen to the best ones," you reassure him giggling, then you complain,"I just can’t chemistry, it doesn’t go into my head. At least you chose blue, I wanted to put the green stuff on it."

The first thing you decide to do is take a little break on the sofa before you start doing your tasks. "What about learning for IT? You said you had problems with one program, I know how to do it, I can help you." Chris suggests, and you like the idea. "That would be incredibly nice of you, I really need help, I just don’t understand this stupid program," you whine. "So I can right now if you have time?" he asks and sounds a little hopeful in his audio. "Sure, today is a good, I don’t have much to do," you confirm with a smile. Chris is really good at this topic, he will be able to help you perfectly. "Okay, how about 4 p.m., in the coffee rainbow?" he suggests, and you agree, "That fits" "Good, see you later."

-

The hacker sits annoyed in front of his 4 screens and stares at the loading bar which reveals how far the update is that he needs for one of his new programs. He stares at his screen in a bad mood that it is a miracle that the screen does not start crying. He bites his jaw tightly and his hands are clenched into fists.

He had heard that you wanted to be helped by someone else. That you’re meeting someone else to get a computer program explained. His father runs an IT company? That’s why you let this Chris help you? Damn it, he’s the best hacker the world has ever seen, and he’s your boyfriend. B-O-Y-F-R-I-E-N-D! He thinks about whether he should dare to check this Chris. But you just shouldn’t find out, otherwise you’d probably be mad at him forever. On the other hand, it’s actually his right to see who you want to meet. After all, Chris could been sent by the government, right? It’s possible they found out where he is and sent someone to arrest him. At one of his other screens, he begins the systematic search for Chris and also for the company.  He decides to take a look at the company first and then the rest. It quickly turns out that the company is a company that creates firewalls for large corporations. He laughs mockingly, he created the best firewall in the world. He’d get into the security system in a few clicks.

He have NYM-OS as a firewall.  NYM-OS is the best security program in the world. If he would sold NYM-OS and made it available to others, all other companies could close.

He would normally not react as extreme as he is now, if it weren’t for days. You’ve been talking to Chris every free second of every day. Even when he and you watch a movie together, he always notices how you consistently take a look at your phone. And as soon as you have a new message, you answer. It’s driving him crazy. And every night you get this 'good night' message, and always with two red hearts, two red hearts! Damn, he’s not a person who cares about emojis at all. He’s the ':)' type, who only uses  '<3' as a heart.

But what if that’s not enough for you? What if you want more, someone using the right emojis? That’s ridiculous, it’s just emojis. Does Chris know you have a boyfriend? Did you tell him about it? Actually, you guys tend to keep it private. Why would anyone care?

But right now, he wants you to tell the whole world. Everyone should know, even if that weren't good, even dumb. But the hacker just has the urgent need that everyone knows is at your side.  A look at the clock in the corner of his screen reveals that it is already half past three.  So in 15 minutes, you’d be going to your meeting.

He decides to wait with the search for Chris until you leave, so that he can concentrate on it. His program is finally finished, so he’s going to do this first.

-

Until you knock on the door 10 minutes later. "I’m meeting with Chris at the Kaffe Rainbow now, okay? He’s helping me out for college" you explain, and you’re smiling at Jake.  He is really so beautiful.  "Okay, which subject?" he asks you casually without turning to you.  "A tool. This doesn’t work right, but it’s important for my subject."  You don’t even seem to notice how much your words hit him, and the openness you tell him about it hurts him. Of course, it’s better than lying to him, but it still hurts him.  "All right," he grumbles and taps annoyed around his keyboard with his fingers.

"Aren’t you saying goodbye to me?" you ask unsure, wondering why he is so dismissive of you. "Of course," he answers quietly and finally turns around.  You bend down to him to give him a kiss but after a second he immediately moves away. "Take care, see you later" he sounds almost disinterested and you notice a prick in your chest. "I love you, my heart" you mumble. "Yes, I love you too, Natasha"

Wow, 'Yes, I love you too?' Yes? Why 'yes'? 'Why is he so dismissive? Did I do something wrong?' you wonder in your head. You decide to talk to him later when you get back, but now you have to go, you don’t want to keep Chris waiting.

The door falls shut and Jake moans loudly and rubs his hands through his face.This fucking jealousy is really terrible! He’s growling, the thought of you going out to meet this Chris guy makes him mad.  His heart is racing and he drops his head backwards against the back of the chair.

This is not normal.

Yeah, that sounds very dramatic. But he swore he’d always protect you and never let you go. You’re the first person he really cares about besides Hannah and Lilly. You are the first person he can imagine sharing his life with, and right now he sees this future in danger. All the attention you’ve paid to Chris over the last few days is making him nervous.

And even worse, he doesn’t know how to deal with it or what to do so that he doesn’t feel so bad about it.

He really would have a lot of means to get rid of Chris, which sounds a lot like Mafia, but that’s not what it mean. He could make a few simple clicks to get Chris to move back to the city he came from. Get him kicked off campus or something. But unfortunately, he swore to himself that he would use his arts and talent exclusively for good and important things. He could never destroy anyone’s future.

He just has to trust you, you would never lie to him or cheat on him. You wouldn’t leave him, you love him, you said it a few minutes ago. But his thoughts seem to really drive him crazy. Scenarios where you’re in the end because of Chris, spitting through his head. How he sees pictures of you on Instagram, how you spend your life with Chris. How you still keep in touch with his sisters, and all those things.

Luckily, it suddenly rings at the door and drives away these horror stories for a short moment.  He jumps up from his chair to escape from the room, which suddenly seems so narrow and small.  He hurries to the front door and with a lot of momentum he opens it. Outside, Hannah stands looking at him in surprise, "Hi," she chuckles as she sees his strange look, "Have you been drinking too much coffee or where does this energy come from? “  "Oh well, Hello Hannah" he greets his sister and makes room to let her in.  "How are you? " she asks lovingly as she closes the door again.  "Yes," he replies, as quickly as the thoughts have gone, they have now returned.  "Huh? Yeah? Jake this is not a real answer to this question" she informs him.

„Oh no, I mean, yeah, all right, and with you? " he goes straight back to his room. Hannah follows him with a skeptical look.  "Ok, something is wrong here! " she notes and folds her arms in front of her chest, waiting for an answer.  "Everything okay, Hannah, really, but what are you doing here? " he quickly distracts and lets himself sink back into the chair.  "I’m here to pick up Natasha, the whole group is meeting at the  Rainbow, where is she? " she inquires. Jake snorts bitterly,  "She forgot your meeting, but don’t worry, she’s already in the rainbow," he explains. „Wow, wow wow, okay. It’s not just 'something' wrong here, Is there a war or what? What happened? Did you have a fight?" worried, she sinks onto the small couch.  Jake have his arms crossed and looks at the ceiling, and turning around on his chair. "Ask Chris when you’re at the cafe," he murmur "he'll tell you, whats going on" "Who is Chris? " Hannah raises an eyebrow in surprise. Her brother grins mockingly,  "Someone from her college. Who really gets a lot of attention"  His sister twists her eyes,  "Now don’t let me ask everything! Just tell me what happened"

In the short version, the hacker tells his half-sister about his problem and what happened the last few days. How he feels and also reveals to her his fear of losing you.

"Watch out" begins Hannah, "Put on your shoes and a jacket and let’s go!" Motivated, Hannah jumps up. "Where?" Jake asks cluelessly.  "Well, you’re coming with me to the rainbow. We’re all meeting, and you’re now with everyone, too. And I’m your sister so you have every right to come along!" "I don’t think it’s a good idea, otherwise Natasha still thinks I’m spying on her" The brown-haired one laughs, "Yes, that’s exactly what we do, so come on," she forces him.  "Hannah I-" he tries, but she raises an index finger to silence him, "No, get dressed! Come along!" "Stop beeing so revenge funny, Natasha is your friend," he reminds his sister.  "Jake, you’re my brother, and even though she’s my friend, I don’t like the way she treats you right now. And I’m not doing anything, we’re just going to have a coffee. Besides, I have every right to be mad because she forgot about us, and I think that’s a shame"

Said and done

5 minutes later, the siblings enter the beautiful coffee. Immediately the large group is noticed, which has to push two tables together each time, so that there is enough space.  "Ah Hannah" shouts Thomas as he discovers his girlfriend.  She takes her brother by the hand to pull him behind her, but his gaze is not on the group, but on you. You’re laughing at a joke he made for you by Chris while he explains to you how exactly the program works. Jake doesn’t like how close you sit next to each other, of course you both have to be able to look at the screen, but that’s extremely close.

-

The call of Thomas for his girlfriend makes you look up from the screen and immediately you meet the neutral, almost cold look of your boyfriend. Surprised, you draw your eyebrows together. You didn’t expect him here. You don’t have a chance to give him a sign like a smile or something, he’s already sitting at the table.  From here, you can’t hear what the others are saying, but when you see the look on Hannah’s face, you suddenly come to remember that you were on a date with the group.  "Can we go on?" Chris asks and pulls you out of your mind,  "Ooh, sure," you mumble. You really have to apologize later.

"What are you doing here?" Richy asks the hacker, "And why is Natasha sitting back there with someone else?""  Before Jake can answer, Hannah takes the job off him, "Natasha is otherwise busy, she forgot about us." "Serious?" Dan asks in amazement and then looks at Jake, "Trouble in paradise?" "Funny Dan. Really funny" Jake hisses and twists his eyes.  "Hey, that was just a joke," the bearded one explains, "I just wanted to say that the guy is weird."  "Did anyone talk to her?" Hannah asks. "No, we were just waving at her, I thought she’d be here soon, but it doesn’t look like it," says Thomas. "Hi guys" Lilly welcomes the round. They’re all here now. While Jake’s second sister takes off her jacket, she asks, "What’s going on here?" She points to you and Chris in the corner.  "We’ve been transferred," Hannah tells her again.

After Lilly sits down, the hacker begins to tell again what the problem is. "And she didn’t realize you weren’t happy about it?" Lilly asks and sounds a little angry.  "No, she doesn’t know," Jake sighs. "I’ll clear this up" the blond-haired woman shrugs her shoulders and gets up.  "No wait" her brother tries to stop her but she doesn’t let herself be disturbed.

You notice Lilly coming towards you with a not enthusiastic look.  "Hello Lilly" you greet her still smiling.  She nods neutral and pulls a chair back that creates an unpleasant squeak on the tiles. "Hi" she calls and looks expecting, "Who is that?" She immediately comes out with her concerns. You are almost swallowing up, "This is Chris, we have some subjects together at college," you explain to her. What’s going on now?

She stretches her hand across the table to Chris, "Hi, I’m Lilly Donfort. A friend of Natasha’s and her boyfriend’s sister," she imagines herself abruptly. Chris even twitches slightly at her sharp tone, "Hi, I’m Chris" responds a bit insecure and shakes her hand. "Haven’t you forgotten something?" explores she further. "Yes, I know, I’m really sorry, I’m just stressed about the subject, the exam is in two days and I don’t understand it yet. Chris offered to help me and I just forgot, "you apologize.  "Why do you let Chris help you? You haven’t forgotten who Jake is, have you?" she says cynically. "He’s mad, isn’t he?" you ask in shame and look away.  "Of course, think about why, and if you’re watching a movie while you’re in his arms, pack up the phone," the blond-haired gasps. You swallow. You did something wrong. "I didn’t want to hurt you," you mumble.

"Oh you didn’t hurt me directly.This with the meeting isn’t so bad. It’s just about Jake" "Wait, so you have a boyfriend?" Chris asks in between.  "Oh, she did," Lilly knocks twice on the table to underline her statement.  "The one who looks over here in between with this death look?" he asks amusingly.  "What’s funny about that?" Lilly pulls up an eyebrow. "Well, he’s trying to kill me with his looks, as jealous as he seems," Chris explains.  "Hey, stop talking so pejoratively about him, okay? He loves me, so he shows," you defend Jake right away.  "It’s okay, I didn’t mean to attack you, but I wonder why you didn’t tell me you had a boyfriend?" "I didn’t think it was important. I mean, why? That has nothing to do with the university?" astonished you look at him. "Well, I thought if we were meeting, you’d be single?"  "Oh no" Lilly chuckles easily, "Here’s a misunderstanding" "Yes, that’s it, I thought there is something between us," Chris shakes his head.

"You have thought wrong," Jake suddenly interrupts you. Without wasting a second, he leans down to you to press his lips on yours.

A goose bump runs over your body, his voice sounds icy and rough. His lips are possessive and the hand in your neck makes sure you can’t leave his lips. But you don’t want it either; this moment should freeze. Each of his kisses is like a piece of heaven.

You get lost in that kiss. Forget everything around you, your thoughts, the people who luckily aren’t too many, Chris, Lilly, the group.

All you feel is your heart racing and your lips tingling. A short moment later, Jake releases you, "I’m sorry for the rudeness" he whispers against your lips.

You smile, "No, I’m sorry, I think we need to talk."

Jake turns his gaze away from you to Chris, but stays close to your face, "I think you can go now" with a mocking grin on your lips. Chris pulls up an eyebrow, "calm down" "Bye" the Hacker growls and waves while Chris puts his laptop in his pocket.  "I’ll see you in class tomorrow," Chris turns back to you. "And next time, maybe you should be careful what chemicals you mix together. Anyone who can read is clearly in advantage," Jake pushes another mockery after him.

Jake sighs and puts his eyes back on you, "I won’t apologize," he immediately clarifies.  "You don’t have to apologize, I guess I was a little too inattentive in the last few days" "Just a little bit" he jokes and sits down on the chair next to yours.  "I should have thought about what I say. And I shouldn’t have ruled you out," you apologize, "and I should have explained to you why I let Chris explain to me how it works, and not from you. l really didn't mean it bad, I just didn’t want to keep you from working.You’re so stressed right now and if I’m honest, Chris' father is also a professor and he teaches my informatics course. And when Chris tells his father that he help me, the father sees that I care. Simple psychology. His father will keep it in mind whether he wants to or not. And honestly, when you explain something, I feel like you’re telling me how to hack the NSA," at the end you chuckle easily.

"Maybe you should talk about it at home. I don’t know if you still want to stay here but I would like to order a coffee now also" Lilly shows to the waitress who stands at the table of the group and writes the orders of the others on a piece of paper.

-

"You know, actually, it wasn’t bad at all what you did," Jake murmurs. You’re lie half on him, your cheek is squeezed together on his chest while he plays with your hair.  "I think I exaggerated, I was too jealous. But you know, I’m a computer nerd, and my girlfriend asks someone else for help with a program on a computer. I know it’s ridiculous, but somehow I felt personally attacked, like that you think he’s better than me. Do you understand?" he asks quietly.  "Yeah, of course I understand, but don't think like that, okay? No one is better than you," you pull with your finger small circles on his chest, "And I would have been jealous too. You know, I like Chris as a friend. I didn’t want you to think I was paying too much attention to him. And the fact that I always answered him immediately doesn't mean anything. I wasn’t just looking at my phone because of him," you assured the hacker.

"And I didn’t think it bothered you that much, if I’d understood it before, I wouldn’t have done it. But I should have thought more, then I would have understood it sooner. We should both talk to each other more openly next time, okay?" you suggest and hold your hand towards him. He nods, "Deal!" he puts his hand in yours then shakes it.  "I just love you way too much to be able to see someone else at your side. I’m just afraid I’m not good enough for you."  "Jake, you’re way too good for me, really. Never think you are not good enough, you are everything and much more, I love you to infinity and beyond." "I love you even more" he whispers, and then turns so that he lies sideways opposite you. He presses his forehead against yours and sighs, "But I still don’t like him"  Before you can make a teasing comment, he’s already pressed his lips on yours.

His jealousy is just to sweet :)

🌹🎭

Masterlist

[midnight-scrivener]

Updates! They've come!

I ponied up and did a lot of development work on Albinoch, a cyberpunk city where corporate oligarchies rule, and immortality is readily available to the rich and famous--with some... Minor side effects. 🧛

Here's the opening scene of a story I'm working on, a queer noir story featuring the sad, sweaty little man that I built this whole world for in the first place. Most of this will be under a read more :) thanks again for helping me figure this out!

CHAPTER 1

There wasn’t much space to spare in the drag queens’ dressing room, but the weather outside had acquired an attitude since the start of my work, so the ladies had crammed me just inside the doorframe on a little folding stool. I sat leaned back against the flimsy wall, foot braced on the door jam. My leg made a barrier between the warm, smoky interior and the cold, peeling-paint facade of Albinoch, the last, best, biggest factory town that Earth had to offer.

Even in spite of the damp, the open door was doing the ladies and fellas of Rhythm Palace a world of good. The hot, stuffy air was circulating now, exhaling the various smokes, smells, and vapors out into the outside world, curling wisps euthanized by the pissing rain.

I smoked a cigarette. After all, what was the tobacco gonna do? Kill me?

It was getting to be the time of night where most functional human beings look for a comfy place to collapse. The show had just ended, and the performers were counting tips and touching up their makeup at the uneven counter and cracked mirror with vanity lighting, bulbs half-burnt out, before re-emerging through the beaded curtains and mingling with the other clubgoers.

A figure in a hooded, waterproofed windbreaker approached the doorway. He was big enough that had I been a worse doorman, I would have told him to duck as he entered. But as it happened, I didn’t move. “Hey pal,” I said, playing like this man was a stranger and hoping that he was smarter than my client had implied. “This door’s for staff only.”

He looked down at me.

“If you head around the block to the front of the building, security can get you squared away,” I said, cheerfully. Right into a canal somewhere, I did not add.

“He in there?” the man asked, ignoring my helpful advice.

“Specificity really is a lost art.” My voice rasped from the smoke, but I could never tell if when that happened I sounded tough, or ill. “There’s about a dozen ‘he’s in here, bud, and most of them are presently ‘she’s, so I think you should probably look elsewhere.”

“You know the one I want,” he said. “Else you wouldn’t be here.”

The chatter died away behind me. I didn’t look back. I took my cigarette out of my mouth and pulled the mask back up over my nose so I could enunciate more clearly. “I’m here because you shouldn’t be, Greg. I’ve asked you twice to leave this doorway. Don’t make me make it three.”

“The last guy was bigger. He still can’t walk right.” Greg reached out to grab my tie. “If you won’t move, I’ll move you, tiny.”

I let him. I also let my coat fall away from my side, revealing that my free hand was hovering very close to a battered-but-functional static-charge revolver (standard AMPD issue). “Greg,” I admonished. “This is three.”

He paused, looking at me hard and cold. “Pussy,” he said, like harsh words would be enough to make me cast my licensed and registered insurance aside and fight him man to man.

“Probably,” I agreed brightly. “But an armed one.”

Greg eyed the gun like someone who’d never had the pleasure of having a superheated nugget of electrically charged heat and light bore a hole in him, but had a healthy nervousness about the idea anyway.

I shooed him with my cigarette hand. “Hello?” I said. “You’re wrinkling my tie, here. Either leave or give me an excuse to shoot you, idiot.”

Greg hesitated for another moment, but released my shirt. “Bitch is dead,” he said. “And you’re dead too.”

Ah, Greg. So close. Half credit.

He vanished into the night like a big, melodramatic baby vanishes into… whatever one of those would vanish into. The city of Albinoch continued to spit on whichever of her unlucky children happened to be on the streets.

Slowly, the talk started up behind me again. I allowed myself to relax. I straightened my tie, trying not to show how grateful I was that it hadn’t actually come to blows.

“Hey.” A voice at my shoulder. My client. I held up the cigarette for him, still scanning the dark.

“Think he’ll come back?” asked Liam Shay, professionally known as Sara Femme, Angel of Albinoch. He took the cigarette, holding it in a plum, painted pout as he dragged.

“Probably not tonight,” I said. “In future, no promises.”

He dragged a delicate hand across my shoulder blades. “You’re real for this, Zig. Thank you.”

“Thank me in cash,” I said. But I reached back and squeezed his hand.

“The restraining order should be in effect day after tomorrow,” Liam said, coming around to lean on the door frame next to my foot. Sara’s face always surprised me with how delicate it was. Liam was a beautiful man, but a… manly one. Protruding brow, square jaw, the whole deal. But with a sponge and a brush and a hell of a lot of glue, he could create Sara’s ephemeral mask. She had an openness, a welcoming innocence that lured audiences in. When she danced, the stage lights turning her hair into a halo and the rhinestones glittering on her costumes like liquid diamond, any man could fall in love with her. Hell, I had, once upon a time.

Liam smiled, and I nearly did again. “Studying me, detective?” he asked.

“How do you get your eyebrows so flat?” I asked, like that was what I’d been thinking about.

He laughed. “You gotta lick the glue before the last layer.”

“Ah.”

“One day I’m gonna get you in my chair, you know.”

“God help us all when you do,” I said. I chuckled. “I don’t think even you could pretty me up.” I looked out into the rain. “So,” I said. “Greg, huh?”

Liam sighed. He hugged himself. “Greg.”

“How long did you let that happen to you?”

“Don’t be an asshole,” he said. “He was sweet at first. And it’s not like you ever come around anymore.”

“No, well, I got dangerously close to developing feelings,” I said, shrugging like that was the only reason.

“Would that be such a bad thing?” Liam asked, straightening half-indignantly. But then he sagged back against the doorframe, hand pressing into his immaculately made-up eye.

I sat up on my stool. “You okay?”

“Fine,” he said. “Just dizzy all of a sudden.”

I stood and took him by the arm and the small of his back, guiding him to my seat. When he settled, I said, “Now don’t move, I’ll get you a water.” I squeezed his shoulder.

Liam winced, flinching away from me.

I smelled blood in the air, hard like iron and sweet like crimson. My mouth flooded with saliva. I swallowed, harder than I meant to. “You’re hurt.”

He shrugged the shoulder I hadn’t squeezed. “It’s nothing; I’m fine.”

Apparently I didn’t look reassured enough, because he pulled down the sleeve of his costume, exposing a bandage that bloomed red where my thumb had made contact with the wound. “See?”

“That doesn’t look like nothing,” I said, eyes trained on the red.

The red the red the red.

“It’s really not bad. These things just take forever to dry out,” Liam said. I could hear his heartbeat, and I couldn’t ignore it anymore, not with the red red red right in front of me. The splotch was growing. I’d opened it back up. Liam’s heart was fast, and though I couldn’t see the color of his cheeks under his makeup, his neck was flushed with… embarrassment? Shame?

“Maybe we should cover that again,” I said, voice dry and cracked.

Liam looked from it to me. “Are you scared of blood, Ziggy?”

“Don’t… like looking at it,” I lied. My stomach was doing backflips, but for other reasons.

“That’s a little weird for a cop, isn’t it?”

“Former cop,” I managed. I swallowed again and tore my eyes away. I grabbed a first aid kit where it hung from a half-sunk screw in the plywood wall and held it out.

Liam took it, and I saw that flash again, some private ugly emotion as he peeled the old gauze away, revealing a neat semicircle of punctures that welled with more crimson. “Fuck,” I breathed. “You’re Bleeding again? I thought you were off that!”

“Money’s money,” Liam said. He wiped the wound with an antiseptic patch and peeled the adhesive back off a new bandage. “Lots of the girls are doing it. Things are tight, and the bloodbars pay.”

I looked back over my shoulder. The other queens had turned away from the mirror, not even hiding that they were listening in. I could hear all their hearts, all their lives, beating the inside of my skull like timpani drums. It made me want to scream.

Liam eyed me. “Are you judging us, Ziggy Holiday?”

“No,” I said. Then, more firmly, “No, of course not. I’m worrying about you. Those Delta District fangers aren’t like normal johns. They don’t see you like a person, they see you like food. What if something goes wrong? What if one of them gets too hungry to control himself, or if he’s too rich to care about pesky things like homicide charges?”

“Nothing’s gone wrong yet,” Liam said, voice cool. Sara’s painted face was blank, an impeccable mask. “And I can worry about myself.”

“I’m sure you can,” I said, wrestling the animal inside me down now that the blood was out of sight. “But until the day after tomorrow, that is literally my job, so cut a guy some slack.”

“Thanks, Zig.” Liam stood up. “You should head home, get some shuteye. One of the bouncers is giving me a ride.”

I’d never been a shining beacon of professionalism, but I could recognize a dismissal when one walked up and slapped me. I nodded. “Night, then,” I said.

“Night.”

I had to pass him to get out the door. For a moment, it seemed like we would hug, break the tension, and go back to our easy conversation.

But as I got close I caught a whiff of the blood, and for a moment my mind’s eye was overwhelmed with the image of me sinking my teeth into Liam’s throat, tearing his flesh, and following his twitching body to the cracked cement floor. Drinking my fill as the pristine white of his costume bled red red red red red.

I ducked around him and stepped into the cold rain. Albinoch spit on me too, and I was grateful that to her at least, I was just another faceless child in her anonymous womb.

My stomach twisted, hungry, and beneath my mask I bared my teeth against the sensation of it.

I made it home in a haze. It wasn’t all that far to walk, and I stuck to well lit areas. No reason to mess with anything hiding in the shadows.

Albinoch had a vampire problem. And I was part of it.

AH I've just discovered I have Polls okay I need. Help

Creatively speaking I've had ants in my brain, and I need Strangers and Internet Friends to tell me what to do because I can't make myself focus on anything of my own free will :)

I need. To do Something, or I shall Die. But decision paralysis has gripped me in its unproductive vise and I'm Struggling

(I'm also happy to talk more about these in depth if it helps folks make a decision)

(this absolutely does not matter and is not important but I appreciate it anyway ❤️)

[pacific-rimbaud]

hi!!! so. for the first sentence game:

She had learned touch typing on a blue, electric Smith Corona a year before Hogwarts.

Touch Type

Pairing: Sirius Black x Marlene McKinnon

Rated M

1,000 words

Also on AO3

She had learned touch typing on a blue, electric Smith Corona a year before Hogwarts.

asdf jkl; ffdd ffss ffaa asdf ;lkj asdf ;lkj jjkk jjll jj;;

“You’re doing very well.”

The typing teacher tacked a gold foil star to the upper right-hand corner of her paper.

Marlene knew children weren’t meant to agree with adults when they said that sort of thing.

“Yes, I am.”

It’s just that she didn’t care.

When she got home, Marlene’s mother fixed the paper to their refrigerator.

At dinner, as Marlene’s father passed the potatoes, an owl flew through the open kitchen window carrying a letter.

#

Little things were lost to her, straight away: toaster ovens; radios; typewriters; yellow-painted Number 2 pencils.

And large ones: Queen; all of science; ballet; Shakespeare.

They'd given her a wand instead.

ffjj ddkk ssll aa;;

lad lad fad fad add add

asks asks dad dad all all

“What are you doing?”

He whispered like no one else she'd ever known, the tips of his t's and d's shivering down her nape.

He knew he was doing it, just like he knew his off-kilter tie looked illicit.

An unusual amount of power for a thirteen year-old.

“I don’t feel like telling you."

The sun glaring through the south-facing windows in the Charms classroom struck Marlene’s neck above her stiff white collar.

ask afford ajar adapt ate art awe

“Are you playing the piano?”

“I am not.”

“What are you doing, Marlene?”

“Mr. Black!” Flitwick’s chalk stalled. “Pray tell, what is so fascinating about Miss McKinnon’s half of the desk that you are not seated properly at yours?”

“Nothing, Professor.”

Marlene continued striking her imaginary typewriter keys.

aught apt award among aztec ant

boy black brazen braggadocio bye bye bye

#

The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.

Escaping to the balcony from the overheated Great Hall, Marlene tapped the railing.

“You’re a dog,” she said.

“Am I?”

Elbows propped on the balcony rail, Sirius took a long pull from a flask, Adam’s apple rising and falling.

“Peter is a rat,” she said.

“That’s not very nice, Marlene.”

He didn’t need to whisper anymore to make the vellus hair on her arms rise.

A troubling amount of power for a fifteen year-old.

“James is a stag,” she went on.

“And Remus?”

His eyes gleamed.

Sphinx of black quartz, judge my vow.

“Someone very fortunate in his friends. You’ve left your date inside, and she looks unhappy. If you didn’t want to be here with her, you shouldn’t have asked her to the dance.”

He drew himself up to his full height and tucked the flask in his back pocket.

“Why are you mean to me, Marlene?”

“I’m not mean. I’m direct. There’s a difference.”

He shifted towards her, slowly, and their shoulders met.

Waltz, bad nymph, for quick jigs vex.

Then he leaned down, hand traveling along the railing, until it slid beneath her fingers.

She struck imagined letters into the soft skin on the underside of his forearm.

ffjj ddkk ssll aa;;

“And if I were direct?”

Marlene closed her eyes.

black dog black dog lazy dog bad dog

“I would directly tell you no.”

#

The summer she turned sixteen, on a long Italian holiday, she inoculated herself. Any beautiful Italian boy with a kind face would do, so she chose one at a disco in Rome. Within three weeks, she had debauched herself to her own satisfaction.

At school, she typed poems into the wood of the common room table, whatever came to mind: Pablo Neruda, Walt Whitman, Adrienne Rich.

I had questions but you would not answer

I had answers but you could not use them

He took any girl he wanted to his bed and into empty classrooms. Boys, on occasion.

A frightening amount of power for a seventeen year-old.

When he walked past, hand in hand with someone else, she felt his stare as a physical act, as though he could, through relentless pestering perception, make her look up from the table, a book, a parchment, from the poetry in her fingers.

Dark river beds down which the eternal thirst is flowing

He seemed allergic to silencing spells.

He didn’t know how easily Marlene could tuck herself inside the memory of a low breathless voice in her ear saying, “Guardami. Guardami.”

ffjj ddkk ssll aa;;

look at me look at me

mi fai impazzire

you make me crazy

#

For her eighteenth birthday, she bought herself a blue, electric Smith Corona typewriter. Defying every forced dichotomy, she placed it before the wide front window of her newly let London flat.

She never agreed to be halved.

Now, when she typed, whole stories appeared on pages, entirely of her own invention.

She wrote messages to magicians in Muggle ink on a Muggle typewriter, rolled Muggle papers and handed them to magical owls.

James and Lily,

I’m extremely pleased to accept the invitation. My warmest congratulations.

Skin hugged tight in red silk satin, Marlene tapped her fingertips on the kitchen counter at Grimmauld Place while she waited for another drink.

asdf jkl; ffdd ffss ffaa asdf

i take you for better for worse to love till death my vow

i take you to have to cherish

death do us take

solemn vow i cherish

Sirius’s arm slid along the counter’s edge, until she typed against the bare pale skin of his forearm.

He was drunk, in a white tuxedo and red tie, jacket long since lost, flush with philia, with agape, with philautia, radiant with incandescent eros.

An insurmountable amount of power for a nineteen year-old.

The ache between her legs was torturous.

asdf jkl; ffdd ffss ffaa asdf

boy boy black black bad bad best

His arm that was her typewriter folded around her middle as he slipped into the space between her body and the counter.

“You are kind,” he said.

“I am.”

“And you are direct.”

“Yes.”

His chin dropped. “And if I promised, directly, to be very kind?”

He fucked her on the typewriter table in her front window, her dress around her waist, his hand over her breast, panting in her ear.

“Why did you make me wait?”

She gasped, tightening her fist in the fabric of his waistcoat.

“Because you didn’t think you would have to.”

She jolted under the force of his hips, her left hand smashed against the unplugged typewriter’s silent keyboard.

“Marlene…”

to have have have

“Yes?”

i take i take i take

“I am so fucking—”

to hold to want

to want to love

“I know.”

[beyondconfessor]

Explicit Truths

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Lilith/Zelda Spellman/Reader

Summary: When a truth spell has you admitting what you're really thinking about during the assembly, Zelda has no choice but to punish you.

N.B.: for @ lilithsmuffin, also posted on AO3 You had been brought in as an educator. A witch from a distant coven, moving to set new roots and get away from the old ways. When rumours arrived to your doorstep that the very same Academy of Unseen Arts had a Directrix as well as a Priestess? You practically packed your bags the same day, leaving your coven to sprint towards the Church of Night, now turned Church of Lilith.

Zelda was…magnificent in all of her glory. Watching her speak in Dark Mass was breathtaking. She was elegant, prepared, but in easy confidence, and there was a dry humour as she rose an eyebrow, offering a joke that had your heart glowing around the stories of Lilith.

Here the coven taught independence, it taught power in the simple magics, and strength in your ties to one-another. It taught you self-respect and made you eager to be a part of more.

Your introduction, an ardent request to join the coven, had been met with an arched brow. “And what can you offer us?”

It didn’t take a keen eye to notice the lack of adults, but despite the desperation the coven was left in, not all would be accepted––you still needed to prove your worth.

You could offer a lot, you assured, and had somehow managed to convince her that your skills were well not just invaluable but required. Perhaps you were not proficient in high-end hexes and curses as herself, but your theory was strong, your interest in the dark arts paramount to your obsession in transmutation. And at the very least, you were a teacher who could stay at the school when Directrix Spellman was otherwise needing a break to return home to the Spellman Manor.

Though, since your arrival, you noticed she had only visited a few times, otherwise staying nearby should the children require her.

You prepped your lesson, you taught with enthusiasm and passion, and where as some of the children took well to you, others…thought themselves pranksters.

A truth spell in your morning tea. At first, it was hardly noticeable. You were overall quite an honest person, finding no reason to lie when asked a direct question, which was all fine and well…until Directrix Spellman began to speak at the assembly, and as you had over the last few weeks, you found yourself lost in her eyes, watching as the sunlight sparkled in her hair, or the way her hands moved that made you wonder if they were as elegant in other kinds of movements.

It was a dull topic, barely made more interesting by the way her she spoke, truth to be told. And when she turned and asked you a question, enquiring as to your agreement, you’d answered her honestly.

“I wasn’t paying attention.”

It received a laugh from the students, and Zelda’s face pinched at your admission. Confused.

“Pardon?” she asked, her voice going low with warning, reminding you that you were undermining her authority. “And why aren’t you paying attention?”

“I was thinking about what your fingers would feel like buried inside of me.”

Zelda blinked.

The students roared with laughter.

And you felt your face burn with embarrassment. It was then you realised that you were under the influence of a truth spell, and it seemed like you were unable to swallow the words away.

“Excuse me?” Her voice was low and deep. You’d humiliated her and the terror of that swelled in your chest.

Squeaking, you buried your face in your hands. “Please ignore me.”

Zelda’s expression shifted, a mask coming over her face before she looked back to the students and waved her hand, bringing silence to the room. “Who?” she asked. And the room paused, looking at each other awkwardly. “Speak up or I’ll personally punish each and everyone of you.”

“I’m sure one of us wouldn’t mind being punished, would they?” Dorcas said, and the girl’s eyes turned on you, a mischievous look in her face. Apparently your crush on Directrix Spellman had not gone unnoticed.

“I would enjoy it,” you agreed and then bit your lip hard, as if it could stop the words from coming out. Zelda gave you a sharp look before glaring at Agatha and Dorcas both.

“If no one will come forward then you’ll all be punished until such a time as you decide to be honest. Consider your freedom to move off campus revoked, and your reduced. Dismissed.” There was grumbling before the children scatted and Zelda turned on her heel, looking at you. “With me,” she directed sharply and your head bowed at her words. She was angry, and it was your fault. You should have checked your tea, you should have known that the faint taste of honey had to do with a truth spell, but you’d just thought that Hilda had noticed the cough you had that morning.

In fairness, it had helped it.

Zelda led you to office and then shut the door behind her, pointing for you to sit in front of the desk before she moved to sit in the grand chair behind it. You’d fantasied more than once about fucking her in that very same chair.

Her hands folded before her on the desk, as she sat up straight, her expression firm and unimpressed and you felt yourself look away, unable to meet her eyes. You’d been here a total of three and a half weeks, and you’d already disappointed her.

“The children are cruel,” she began. “When I first begun as a teacher they’d tried a similar thing. You need to be strict with them or they’ll continue to walk over you.”

“Yes, Directrix,” you said, still not meeting her eyes.

A silence pulled, and then you found yourself looking up, watching as Zelda seemed to stare at you, as if trying to work out what to do next. Perhaps she planned to temporarily strip you of your magic, or have you on scutwork in the kitchens. Whatever it was, you were sure it would be something well deserved.

“Do you think you need to be punished?” She enquired.

You nodded, feeling your eyes prick. “I do.”

“What lesson do you think you need to learn?”

You swallowed, her voice had taken to being gentle, as if she was guiding you to some point and the ease of that helped. “Not to drink potions unaware?”

“Mm. And anything else?”

“To…” and you swallowed, the truth spell tugging at you to respond while your own anxiety seemed to desire it to tug the words back––the spell won. “To not fantasise during assemblies.”

“Well, we’re only witches,” Zelda said. “We can hardly help our base desires. In fact, I would say that its encouraged in our tenets.”

Your eyes held hers and you watched as a smirk tugged at her lips. Was she…implying what you suspected? No, it seemed unlikely. Directrix Spellman was the High Priestess of the Church of Lilith. Her devotion was to their goddess, their Queen of Hell. Lilith guide her, surely she wasn’t––

“Surely she is,” a voice said beside you.

You’re back tensed as you slowly turned to look at the chair beside you, watching as crowned Queen of Hell crossed her legs, giving a small laugh as she drew a glass of whiskey to her lips. “She is as you said, Zelda.”

“I don’t exaggerated.”

“Mm. Quite lovely,” she said and her eyes drew down the length of your body and then back to your face. “But look at her. Flushed with guilt, and saying such naughty things to undermine your authority. Whatever will we do?”

“I’m always of the believe that a good punishment is picked by their wrong-doer,” Zelda said, before her eyes fell to yours. “So, tell me dear, what do you want your punishment to be?”

Your throat swelled with the words. Not what do you think, but what do you want. And you already knew what you wanted. You’d thought about, dreamt about late at night between your sheets. Embarrassment flushed through you as you squirmed on the seat, trying to bite back the words, your hand wrapping over your mouth to muffle them.

“What was that?” Lilith inquired, her eyes sparkling and you felt your breath draw tight in your lungs.

“Speak up,” Zelda commended. “Or I’ll have your hands bound if you can’t keep them away from your face.”

“Caning,” you said, and your eyes moved to the weapon she had leaning by the desk. It was a a long piece of wood, an extender with a piece of chalk in it to write high on the tall chalkboards, but the few times you’d seen her weilding it in the classroom, your mind had drifted to better uses for it.

Your eyes fell to your lap and your hands dug into the material of your dress on your thighs. There was more, but the spell seemed satisfied at the single admitted word.

“Well, Zelda. I think we should oblige.”

“Oh yes, quite a good idea.” And then she was pushing back in the desk chair, standing behind the desk. She moved papers to the side of the otherwise tidy desk, and then she she gestured for you to stand before her, eyebrow cocked, waiting.

You shouldn’t keep her waiting.

Swallowing, you stood up and moved around the desk, coming to stand before her. Lilith remained in her seat, a large cheshire grin growing on her lips as she watched you shiver, making no attempt to leave to the privacy of your punishment.

And a part of you didn’t want her to leave, especially when her chest heaved with an intake of breath, eyes drawing over you again with unabashed lust.

“What are you waiting for? Bend over, on the desk,” Zelda said.

“Yes, Directrix.”

You laid yourself across the desk, hands reaching across the expanse to clutch at the other side as you shifted your legs.

“Back straight,” Zelda said, and then she was adjusting your hips and you had to bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut as you felt her hands draw up your sides and then back down, almost soothing. And then she pressed behind you and your breath exhaled, eyes opening as you felt something press against you.

Was she––?

“Good girl,” she whispered in your ear and her hand drew down your back, down your backside to your thighs where the skirt of the dress ended. You held your breath and felt fingertips graze over the back of your legs, and then the dress was sliding up and over your hips, bunching around your waist. The air was cool against your skin and you felt her fingers trail over the band of cotton. “These off too, hmm?” she enquired.

“Yes,” and you ducked your face under your hands, only to feel a hand cup under your chin and tug it back, looking up over the desk.

“I want to see your face,” Lilith said, her thumb grazing across your cheek as she held your face steady in her hand. “Will you oblige your Queen?”

“I will.”

“Zelda’s right, you are a good girl. And if you’re very, very good, I’m sure a treat can be arranged?” and then Lilith’s eyes flicked to behind your shoulder, to where Zelda was. Both women seemed to share a look and you felt the response squirm inside of you.

And then your underwear wear was tugged down, dropped around your ankles. You stepped out of them and felt as Zelda’s hands settled over your backside, nails bluntly drawing over thighs to your hips. And then the warmth of her hands left and you heard the sound of wood dragging against wood as she picked up the cane. Anticipation tightened in you, but Lilith’s hand hadn’t removed from your face, her thumb stroking against your cheek as she watched Zelda set up behind you.

“How many lashed to begin with?” Zelda asked.

“Five,” Lilith answered, her bright eyes turning to you, “that sounds fair, doesn’t it?”

“Five is good,” you agreed.

There was a quiet and you watched as Lilith’s eyes looked to Zelda’s, her smile widening into a grin. The cane pressed gently against your ass, and then it pulled back and the only warning you had was Lilith’s eyes sparkling with delight as the cane cut through through the air––thwack––and hit your backside, across the middle, against both cheeks.

Gasping, you felt the hand tighten on your chin, nails holding you firmly in place before the cane struck again, firmer this. It stung, pain bleeding hotly over your skin, but Lilith’s expression softened and you heard a moan slip from behind you.

You jumped as fingers touched over your skin where the two marks had hit and watched as Lilith smiled at you. “Too much?” she asked.

“No,” you answered, voice heavy with arousal. Again you wanted to say, but it was clear on your face as Lilith looked to Zelda and gave a nod.

It was harder, firmer. One, two and then three, the sounds filling the air and by the last one you were gasping, head bowing against Lilith’s hands as you clutched at the desk. Already you could feel a slickness in your thighs––if the day was filled only by this you’d dream of it from the rest of your life.

“Five,” Zelda stated and you shivered at the deepness of her voice, thick with arousal at her finger tips drew over the hot skin. “Do you think you’ve served your punishment?”

“No, Directrix,” you answered, biting your lip and this time Lilith laughed.

“Is that so?” Zelda asked and her hand came to press against your lower back, holding you firmly. “Perhaps we should try something different.” And then you heard the sound of a drawer opening and something being pulled from it.

Lilith looked from whatever object it was and then to you. “This will sting,” she promised, her thumb still stroking your cheek. “Usually I’d say something along the lines of ‘this hurts us more than it hurts you’, but that’s just not true. This will hurt and we’re going to enjoy it very much.”

You nodded and felt as behind you Zelda shifted, and then you felt the touch of leather draw over your ass, across the hot skin. It slid down your thigh, sliding low to the back of your leg, and then it slipped between your knees and up. You’re mouth parted, a throbbing growing already between your legs as you began to almost pant in anticipation.

It brushed over the labia, drawing gently against it, drawing over the entire length before it disappeared. Your hips pressed firmed against the desk, a part of you wanting very desperately to feel that leather draw firmer against it.

You felt Zelda’s heel nudge between your feet, “Spread your legs for me,” she said, her shoe pressing your foot from one side to the other until you were spread wide and open. Your body flushed at the command.

“You like being told to spread your legs for your Directrix, don’t you?” Lilith teased.

“Yes,” you responded.

“Would you like it if she pressed between your thighs and…” and then Lilith was drawing close to you, until her face took up the entirety of your peripheral and all you could see was how blue her eyes were, “slid her fingers between those very wet folds of your cunt?”

“Yes,” you whispered, and your mouth parted as you felt Lilith brush closer, almost as if she was about to––

Thwack. You gasped and Lilith laughed, drawing back as you felt the sting of the leather against your backside. The pain drew hotly over your skin, and before you could prepare, a second one struck higher, firmer and you hissed feeling the sting wash over your backside. And just as you were about to recover, there was a third, low and firm to one cheek, leaving you whimpering.

“Good girl,” Zelda said and her hand drew over the last mark, firm as she touched over the forming welt. “Two more for me and then I think you’ve learnt your lesson.”

“Yes, Directrix Spellman.”

You paused, a tugging low in your belly. In the bent position, you could feel the cool air drawing over the wetness building between your legs. It must be obvious. It felt obvious.

Before you, Lilith’s lips parted, her eyes softening as she watched Zelda, and then her eyes pulled away to yours, mouth tugging into a secret smile for you. She held you firm, and when the strike came, fast and hard against your ass, you felt a moan pull at your mouth. It hurt, but as you drew in a breath, Lilith’s thumb drew over your cheek and Zelda’s hand over the struck area.

They were both gentle, tender movements and you whimpered, tears prick in your eyes. “You’re doing well,” Lilith told you.

“One more,” Zelda said.

“Make it count,” Lilith said. And she did. The strike was firm and hard, low on your ass so very edges of it struck over your labia. The sting shuddered through you and Lilith let go of you gently, allowing your head to drop forward, hiding in your arms.

She drew a hand through your hair, rising to her feet before she walked away. And then you could feel both women standing behind you, fingers grazing over the marks as Lilith gasped approvingly. “How lovely,” she admired, and you thought it was the welts Zelda had caused…and then you felt her finger slide between your thighs, drawing at the very edge before she pulled away.

“Quite wet,” Zelda said. “I dare say the lesson may not have been as well received as I’d hoped.”

“Whatever shall we do about that?” Lilith asked, and you felt her move to sit beside you, leaning against the desk. You shifted, turning to look, but a hand splayed over your lower back, holding you in place. And then you felt as fingers slid over your folds, before you felt Zelda press against your ass, her hand coming to stretch before your face.

Her fingertips glistened before you.

“Do you see this?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you know what this is?”

Swallowing, you nodded. “Arousal,” you answered. And then corrected, “My arousal.”

“It’s a mess is what it is,” Zelda told you, “You should clean it up.”

You looked over your shoulder at them and watched as both women raised their eyebrows, waiting for you to do so. You turned back to the fingertips and pressed your face forward, until they brushed over your lips. And then your mouth parted and felt as Zelda’s fingers pressed against your tongue one by one, allowing you to lick them clean.

“There we go,” Zelda said, drawing her hand away. You felt an emptiness tugging low from inside of you, a desperation to feel those fingers enter elsewhere.

“This doesn’t fix the problem that I see,” Lilith advised. “I mean, look at that mess between her thighs. Poor thing is dripping. We should really help her out.”

“Oh, I entirely agree,” Zelda said, before she was nudging your legs further apart. “How do you want us to sort this mess?” Zelda asked of you.

“Fuck me,” you said. “I don’t care how just fuck me, please.”

“She doesn’t care how,” Lilith commented. And then she was stepping around the desk again, sitting in the same chair as she had before, setting her whiskey glass down to look you over. She leant back in the seat, her hand propped up on the arm of the chair as she rested her chin upon the palm of her hand, watching you. “Perhaps we can narrow this down.”

And you felt Zelda press against you and you knew this time, feeling the pants brush against your parted legs, there was a strap pushing against you and your eyes fluttered at the thought.

Lilith caught your expression. “You can’t see,” she told you, “But our dear Directrix is looking at you like you’re the belle of the orgy. I think she wants to touch your cunt, would you like that?”

Your response came out as an exhaled breath, “Yes.”

And then you felt Zelda’s fingers sliding over the front of your thighs. Your hands clutched at the desk, anticipating the touch as you felt her pants press firmer against you. And then there was the lightest graze, over your pubic mound, down touching lightly over the folds and then a finger found your clit. It was soft tease, and then a firm stroke, circling. You whimpered at it, pressing firmer against the front of her pants as you tried to slide against her fingers.

The hand dropped away and you whined.

Lilith pouted, leaning forward in the chair to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Not enough?” she asked.

“No.”

“Do you want more?”

“Yes.”

“Tell your Queen what you want.”

“I…I can feel…”

Lilith nodded, and it was patronising as she bit her lip, eyes flicking to Zelda and then back to you. “You can feel, what?” she asked.

“A toy.”

“Mm. Directrix Spellman was all prepared for a meeting we were to have later,” she said, eyes flicking up to Zelda’s to share a secret smile before turning back to you. “And then we had to deal with this situation.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, no, this has be a much preferred turn of events, wasn’t it dear?” Lilith asked.

“Indeed,” Zelda agreed.

“You know, where Directrix Spellman first saw you…oh she couldn’t keep her eyes from you. She’d dream about fucking you, fucking me, fucking us. Now, be a good girl and tell me, did you dream about this too?”

“Yes.”

“Here?”

And Zelda’s fingers were circling your clit again as you nodded. “Here,” you confirmed, your breath coming out in a pant.

“Did you think about fucking her or just being fucked?”

“Both. And you. I thought about fucking you…” you trailed off, feeling a growing orgasm tugging low. You weren’t far off, you could feel yourself clenching, wanting to squeeze around Zelda’s fingers, or the strap she was keeping in her pants, or Lilith’s tongue or…anything, anything that they’d give.

Lilith grinned. “Do you want Directrix Spellman to fuck you with her dildo?”

You nodded, feeling the pace quicken.

“You need to ask her.”

The speed around your clit was increasing, stroking firmer and you squirmed, hips shaking. “Please,” you panted. “Please Directrix, will…will you fuck––“ you cut off with a moan, eyes squeezing shut. “Fuck me with your dildo.”

“You only had to ask,” Zelda said, with a low throaty laugh. Her fingers pulled away and you dropped on the desk, your muscles easing as you felt the growing climax die away. And then there was the unmistakable sound of a zip being undone, and then your felt the toy press against your entrance. Zelda’s hand held your waist and Lilith’s hands drew over your wrists, holding you firm as the toy drew prominently over your vulva, sliding firmly up, hitting over your clit and then back down.

Once, twice, she stroked and your hips shifted, moving in time and then she was pressing against the entrance and your breath came out as a sigh at how good it felt.

She slid inside of you and gave a short stroke before she was sliding out again. Your eyes fluttered shut, a moan spilling from your lips. She did it again, deeper and then she was gone and you were left feeling empty.

You whimpered and then she was drawing inside of you again, deeper. You felt her hand tug you firmer on the shaft and you obliged, sliding down on it until it filled you completely. “Good girl,” she said.

She stroked inside of you, slowly at first, and then as you hips met her pace, she increased and you felt your self whine and moan, the sounds filling the air until she stopped and you were left panting on the desk, feeling the cool wood press against your skin.

“You’ll need to be quiet,” Zelda said. “We can’t have any students pushing through those doors and seeing you in such a compromising position.”

“If you can’t be quiet,” Lilith agreed, “We’ll just have to gag you.”

You looked at and watched her smirk, her hands still firm on your wrists. You weren’t certain of what they would gag you with, but you could hope.

When Zelda began rocking inside of you again, you didn’t hold back you moans. Deliberately allowing your mouth to part, moans coming out with short, sharp gasps.

Zelda’s hand spanked at your ass and you yelped with surprise. And then Lilith was grinning at you. “Now, I didn’t come prepared with a gag, and I’m afraid your dear piece of cotton has mysteriously disappeared. But…” and you watched as Lilith let go of you and with a sudden burst of magic, she had a pair of silken black undergarments in grip that could only belong to one other person. “Open up,” she said, her own mouth parting in excitement.

You obeyed, mouth going wide and felt her carefully place and ball Zelda’s silk underwear into your mouth. They were warm and wet and the realisation of that hummed through you as you realised that she’d been wet because of you.

“Much better,” Zelda said, “If you’re very good, next time we can go somewhere more private.”

Next time, you wanted to ask, but she was thrusting inside of you and your body was responding too well to the feeling to do anything but focus on meeting her pace.

Lilith’s hands held your wrists firm, her eyes staring at you with hunger as you felt Zelda slide in and out, in and out and desperately you wanted attention on your clit as well. You were close, so very, very close. You just needed….

Lilith let go of you and drew your hands down the table, only to feel Zelda’s nails dig into your hip, warning you to put them back. You couldn’t see Lilith, but you imagined she had moved around to stand beside and watch Zelda fuck you as you were moved closer and closer to orgasm––except, all at once you felt Zelda pull out of you.

“Stand up,” she said.

You panted, feeling your whole body flush, your heartbeat thundering in you as you shakily stood up. And then your back was being pressing against the front of Zelda’s body as Lilith came to stand before you. The toy pressed between your thighs and Lilith reached up, tugging the underwear out of your mouth gently, her hands cupping your face as she pressed a kiss to your lips, mouth parting for her tongue to brushed against yours.

And Zelda was kissing your neck, and then your head was turning and your mouth drew to hers.

The toy was sliding against you, and then as Zelda’s mouth parted, you felt it thrust inside of you. With a sudden gasp against her mouth, you squeezed around the toy.

And then a hand was drawing between your legs, over to your clit and you were kissing Zelda, Lilith was on your neck, and slowly you felt Zelda began thrusting inside of you, her mouth hot against yours until you felt her moan into your mouth.

Praise Lilith, you could feel the hand drawing against your clit, the firm, steady stroke in and out as the pace increased. The women held you steady on your feet, their hands firm on your body and you drew from one mouth to another as they stroked and fucked and drew every whine and moan and exhale from you until could feel stars building behind your eyes.

“Please,” you whimpered as you felt one of them bite at your shoulder. “Please let me…” as another sucked at your throat. There were hands holding your hips, tugging you over the strap, and one drawing underneath your bunched up dress, sliding to your breasts to pinch at your nipple.

“You can come for us,” Zelda whispered in your ear. And then her mouth drew over yours as the dildo stroked long and firm and Lilith’s fingers on your clit circled and pinched.

You came sobbing, grasping at both women, feeling you might collapse as your knees buckled but they held you up, kissing you eagerly as your body clenched and convulsed between them. It felt as if the bliss would extend for all eternity.

And then it slowed, like waves washing against the shore. Lilith’s hand drew away first, and then the shaft was sliding out of you.

With panting breaths, you leant back against Zelda as Lilith hands held you firm on your feet, a haze of endorphins washing over you.

“I should drink more spiked tea if that’s how it’s going to end,” you murmured.

“Oh, we’re not done with you yet,” Zelda advised. “You may be satisfied, but the two of us are just worked-up.”

You laughed, opening your eyes as you came to carefully pull away, steady on your feet. You manoeuvred yourself to lean against the desk, grinning at the two flushed-face women, both of them looking at you hungrily as if they’d only been teased.

Already, you could feel ideas forming in your head, thinking about how lovely Zelda would look in that grande chair of hers. How wonderful it would be to have Lilith sitting on your face.

“And how may I be of service?” you asked.

Zelda and Lilith turned to each other, sharing a look before they turned back. "First thing's first," Lilith said. "You have to pick who you'll serve first. And I promise, dearly, that the other will only punish you a little bit."

You drew in a breath, looking between them, knowing that either one would hold it against you. The question was...which one did you want to punish you more?

[val-aquenta]

Mace Windu Appreciation Day One. 

Prompt: Serenity/Acting

Here on ao3

 Mace Windu sat on his seat in the council, hands steepled in front of him. He let out a long breath. The problem of Ryloth was complex and with multiple faces. The Senate was pushing for one side, and while he in part agreed, he could see and understand the other side. He shook his head. He had already spent long on this issue even though the Senate’s push had solidified what the Order would do. They disagreed, but if they made it known, the Senate would be quick to order them. As he walked from the seat into the centre and then to the door, he shed the mantle of authority that came with his seat. He was still the Master of the Order, but away from the seat of decision making there, he felt more free, closer to his family. As he exited the room, Mace took a deep breath of relief. The room was somewhat stifling after so long. “Padawan Aleya, you’re free to go if you wish.” The twi'lek smiled widely. “Apologies for keeping you so late. I should have signalled.” 

“No worries, Master Mace. You aren’t that late.” Aleya assured, bustling at the desk and picking up a stack of datapads. Mace lifted a bemused eyebrow. “I had some work to do.” He mutters, blushing a bright green in embarrassment. Suddenly, he perked up, clearly remembering something. “Oh… Knight Depa had a message, Master. There’s an opening in the play they’re doing soon if you want to join. Not sure about the play, though. She just said you should meet her at the theatre.” Aleya stumbled slightly to the side, the datapads tilting precariously. Mace moved forwards, drawing the Force around the Twi’Lek to keep him from falling. 

“Well, I look forwards to the play. Perhaps you’ll even see me on stage, hmm?” Mace grinned, bemused at the bright green flush again. Aleya had only recently been assigned to the Council desk as Shaak Ti’s padawan. He still had, despite his older age, that youthful hero-worship of some members of the Council. Shaak herself, though, was an exception. “And yourself? It’s nearing exams, isn’t it?”

Aleya cringed, his face twisting into a displeased frown. “Yeah. I’m busy, but still managing. The exams come up soon.” He frowned, fiddling with his stack of datapads. “I still don’t get the Ryloth War in 406. Elya seems to be the cause of the revolt, but then the Rila commune also could be part of it, and the-” He stopped suddenly. “Sorry, Master. I was babbling.”

“No worries, Padawan. I’m afraid I’m not too well-versed in Ryloth’s history. I had not studied it. Cyslin, my Master, she studied Ryloth, though it was a while back before I became her Padawan.” Mace explained, a contrite look on his face. 

“Oh! That would be helpful. I’ll talk to her.” They reached the end of the hall. Aleya tried to manage a wave around the datapads. He was… somewhat successful. “Well, see you tomorrow, Master!” And with that, he walked down the left corridor. 

Mace raised a hand in an aborted way. “Good luck with your studies!” He called back, receiving a smile his way. Alright, now for the theatre. It would be fun to act again. Even for just a moment.

Depa was outside the arts centre, waiting for him. She smiled widely as he neared, looking up from a holo and placing the datapad in her robe pocket. “Master! You got my message.” She had changed her hairstyle from a braided crown into four looped braids. 

“Of course. Padawan Aleya is nothing if not diligent.” Mace commented, close enough to feel the gentle warmth of his former student. She shuffled a bit closer, her youthful features lighting up in happiness. 

“Indeed.” She paused for a while, simply soaking in the familiar presence of Mace before speaking once more. “Well, the younglings were putting together a show, and they need a Master and a Knight.” She pointed to Mace and then to herself. “I already volunteered you.” 

Mace sighed, of course. “Depa, you know I am quite busy now-” He started only to be interrupted by Depa. 

“I already checked your schedule, Master.” She grinned unashamedly. Mace had idly wondered if knighting Depa would lessen the amount she pestered him. It appeared not. “I’ve cleared it for practice and rehearsal. As Master of the Order, shouldn’t you be spending some time with the younglings?” She raised an eyebrow slyly.

Mace snorted, “That’s Master Yoda’s job.” Still, he followed Depa into the theatre centre, hands folded into his sleeves. If she had, in fact, cleared his schedule, it would be silly for him to miss this. Depa shot him a smug smile, unfazed by the dry look she received in response.

“Master Windu, Knight Depa!” The crechemaster, a tall mirialan surrounded by a small gaggle of younglings. “Thank you for coming.” Mace bowed, Depa copying him, her hair bobbing playfully. She shot a smile at one of the younglings, a young nautolan who smiles hesitantly in return. Mace takes a glance over the group. There are nine children of various ages, spanning until probably 12. He can’t truly tell. “We’re acting out the tale of the caves for the day of discovery.”

“Ah, a lovely choice,” Mace assured, trying not to feel too sad when some of the children seemed to startle. It appeared he had been missing creche supervision because of all the paperwork from the council seat he had gotten right after knighting Depa. “I’m quite familiar with it. I’m sure you are too, Depa?”

Depa nodded, a hand reaching out to move her braid out of the way. “Yes, we acted it a few times when I was younger. You played the knight if I recall?”

“Indeed.” It had been where he first met Depa. A fond memory he kept close to his heart. “So, when will we begin?” He asked the crechemaster, Tirna if he recalled correctly. 

Tirna was about to speak before a flimsi was pushed into her hands. She looked down to peer at it for a moment. “It’s lovely.” She murmured with a soft smile to the small twi’lek, returning the drawing and receiving a bright smile in return. “We were waiting for you two, so I suppose we can go in. 

The younglings were corralled in, excitedly whispering to each other. The theatre was a familiar place. When he was younger, he had spent most of his time here being taught the art of acting on stage. He’d even dabbled in music on stage, though he preferred to simply speak and not sing on stage. Both Cyslin and himself were surprised when he had gotten an offer from the theatre to become an instructor here. Sadly, his path to knighthood had gotten in the way and Instructor Rhuy had been disappointed, but not exactly surprised by Mace turning down the offer. Sadly, the chiss had passed to the Force a few years ago in his few missions offworld. He had not become familiar with the new instructor, too busy with Depa’s final years of apprenticeship. Mace looked at the brown and gray walls, breathing in the familiar scent and soaking in the warmth of the place. It was a place for entertainment. While, yes, people were driven to tears with some performances, the imprint left in the place was one of happiness and joy. 

Depa, at his side, watched him with a sideways glance. She had not seen him act much in recent years. In the middle of their years, when they were on rotation at the Temple for Depa’s studies, Mace would find himself often in the theatre, but a lot of those memories were hazy, just long enough ago that Depa could only recall them with a blurriness on the edges. A striking image of Mace in full attire of older Jedi, the ornamental robes and rather fancy modified training hilts came to mind. He turned in an elaborate fighting dance with another Jedi, a crechemate in the story. Another image, this time of Mace in more modern Jedi robes, a Nautolan next to him as he acted out a confession scene. She recalled the way she had cringed away from the stage. By the Force, it was her Master up there with that knight. Cyslin’s soft chuckle and a warm hand on her head finished the memory, the faint murmur of Mace’s voice in the background. 

He belonged in the theatre, she concluded, watching his eyes light up as they saw the familiar sight around him. Just as he belonged in the Council chambers, or in some blaster fight on some war-torn planet, or at some negotiation table, impassively looking between the two sides. Mace was many things, and that included being an actor. He looked at home here amongst the rows of seats, the stage as a backdrop, but he also belonged elsewhere. His eyes caught hers. Depa lifted her brow in question. Mace shook his head and followed Tirna up the stairs to the backstage and rehearsing room. Depa took one more look at the theatre, lit up with a warm yellow light, before following the group. 

The rehearsing room was, essentially, a large room, somewhat soundproof and almost large enough to duel. There were mirrors in one corner. The kids stood with Tirna in the corner where she handed out papers. The play was short, most of it being a question and response play. It was a kid's play after all. Depa and he stood in the corner, Mace trying to relax his back. Sitting in the Council chair for so long is a painful experience. He would rather not be there sometimes. Depa eyes him sympathetically, her hand reaching out to rest on his shoulders. They both turn to Tirna, in a strange synchronisation that is a result of their partnership. The mirialan blinks before offering the script. Mace accepts it, though he thinks he can recall all the words. “Thank you.” He says softly, flicking through it. The flimsi flutters under his fingers. He looks up to catch the woman smiling at Depa as she hands the flimsi. It occurs to Mace that he never asked why Tirna had asked Depa for her help first. It appears Mace muses with a bemused smile, that Depa is hiding something from me. And that she is doing a rather poor job. He turns back to the script

Tirna floats through the class as they read through it dramatically. The exaggerated expressions and voices of a few directly contrast the other side who read with a bored monotonous voice. It is endearing and familiar. Depa shuffles where she’s seated, rearranging her clothes, a nervous tell Mace has noted for a while. Mace shuffles a bit closer to her, hand going out to rest on her free one. Depa settles, easily leaning into the familiar warmth. They continue reading this way. The nautolan boy near them shoots him a look before returning to his rather exaggerated fearful voice. “But, Master, it’s too cold. I’ll freeze here.”

“Worry not, I feel a heat coming forth.” He tries to be comforting. “Knight Lea, you feel it too?” He asks Depa.

“Indeed, Master.” She responds, easily falling into a lightheartedness as a part of her character. “Younglings… see the light, it comes through the chamber and… through the ice.” The children act as though they are surprised, and relieved. 

“It will save us from the caves. The ice, it’s going down.” A young mirialan says, veil pushed quickly to the side from where it falls on his face. “Melting.” He’s rather good at it, Mace muses. The mirialan boy looks awed. And so, the play ends. Mace finds himself clapping happily much to the embarrassment of the younglings who end up blushing and sharing glances. Depa hands out compliments easily, the children used to her mannerisms indicating she’s been here often. 

The mirialan, Lameo, comes up to him. “Knight Depa says that you were once part of the theatre, but you chose to become a council member instead.” Mace blinks from where he sits, looking slightly upwards at the boy. 

“Indeed, I did.” He confirms, his head tilting slightly to the left. 

Lameo seems to perk up, sitting down in front of Mace. “What was it like, the theatre I mean, not being a Master? I want to join the theatre club, Master Windu, and I was wondering if I should or if I shouldn’t.” 

Mace hums thoughtfully, hands unconsciously steepling in front of him, “If you desire it, and you feel that it is your path, join it. I must say, you have a knack for it as well.” He grins a bit, happy when the young mirialan smiles back. “The theatre would benefit greatly if you joined.” 

“You think so?” 

“I would not lie, young one,” Mace says.

Lameo breathes in deep, furrowing his brow for a moment before he stands and bows thankfully, “I’ll think about it.”  

The performance happens two weeks later. Mace wears slightly more traditional robes, extra ornaments and embellishments on the cream robes. The children, all decked out in their own gear, like all children do, love the elaborately designed hilts, not made for comfort in dueling, but made to look flashy and beautiful. He turns to welcome Depa and is taken aback for a moment. Her robes are designed differently from what she usually wears. The sleeves are more poofed, less easy to fight in, the pants billow before coming to a close at the boots, and there is a pattern on the fabric itself, intricate little swirls that seem to fit. He recalls a younger Depa in cream coloured tunics before she became a Padawan. It appears, he muses, that she has grown up. Her hair has been intricately plaited on top of her head, in a style that Mace would say tops even the most intricate Naboo hairstyles. When he looks at her, he feels happy, yet also sad, yearning for the time when she would only reach his elbow.

“Master?” Depa asks as she sides up beside him after praising enough of the initiates for their costumes. “Are you alright? You seem… off. Are you nervous?” She seems genuinely concerned. 

“No worries, Depa. Just… thinking.” She shoots him a confused look, obviously not exactly understanding at all. Like he’s done before, he starts explaining. “You’ve grown up. It is… novel sometimes.”

Depa snorts, reaching out to smooth non-existent wrinkles on his robes. “You knighted me a year ago.” She murmurs. “I was far from my Padawan years then.”

“I suppose it is only hitting now,” Mace admits, shifting the tunic a bit from where it sits skewed to the left. It was a tradition to make sure they were both dressed properly before leaving the apartments. It has carried on to this day. “In many ways, I can still see the little you.” Depa laughs lightly, a small chuckle really. Her eyes sparkle like they always do when she finds something humorous. 

“Oh dear, I must have a long way to go then, before I am fully grown in your eyes, my Master.” Her affectionate tone accompanies her hands squeezing his. “Well, are you ready?”

“Of course,” Mace says. Depa smiles and joins Tirna in corralling the kids onto the stage. Mace takes a moment to breathe before following her on the stage.

[itstittycitybaby]

 A/N: thank you @darlingimmafangirl for this request! I really enjoyed writing it :)) also reader is semi pro equalist. not really but she can understand amon’s pov even though he took it to the extreme of things. curious about yall’s stance on amon’s whole revolution thing. feel free to flood my inbox about it ;))

You could hear the whispers and feel the stares. You weren’t ignorant; being the girlfriend of the beloved chief in Republic City caught a lot of attention. Lin Beifong wasn’t one to make friendships, let alone have a girlfriend. From bystanders eyes she was cold but determined. It was the age gap they whispered about.

Normally, the two of you would eat in after work. Lin was exahausted from the long days of her job. Something about more reports to file and sign (that’s what you got from her grumbling anyway). It had been another boring day at the studio and you wanted to go out. Your art was coming along great, but you were tired of being cooped up all day. Now, however, you regretted it.

 Lin was older;her hair had grayed and the crows feet around her eyes told a story. However, she was still gorgeous with her green eyes as they glittered underneath the light of the booth the two of you sat at. She was incredibly strong both physically and mentally. Lin was in her early fifties, while you were in your mid twenties. 

Your relationship was difficult to even start. Lin already had trouble with relationships as a whole, but to be with someone more than a decade younger than her? That was another problem in itself. 

“You’re doing it again,” Lin murmured as she took a sip from her drink. “Hm?” “Thinking. Getting lost in your thoughts.” “Oh,” you replied softly, trying to forget about the waiter’s surprised expression after you squeezed Lin’s hand over the table. “Just...a bit nervous is all.” She shot a brow in response. “Everyone’s staring,” you mumbled, folding your hands into your lap. Lin hummed, “I suppose we make an odd couple.” “Doesn’t matter,” you said, shaking it off. “I’d rather be here with you.” She smiled softly, yet you could tell her gaze wavered. “You shouldn’t care so much about what everyone thinks,” she murmured, cutting her fork into her food. “I know,” you replied, “I just need to be here in the present.” “Atta girl.”

There was a ceremony for the avatar after Amon’s defeat. Your joints and limbs ached from protecting the people from the equalists. Even the fire in your blood weakened but Katara assured you you’d be back in no time. All the fighting and all the emotional drainage took a toll on you. Though, you couldn’t say much. At least you were fortunate enough to protect your bending. You sat at the bar of the ballroom, swinging your legs as you waited for Lin to join you. She had to stay with councilman Tenzin and Korra while the reporters flocked around them. The red dress clung to your figure tightly and stopped mid thigh. You swirled a wine glass absentmindedly, mulling over the past couple of months you had been through. The disappearance of Amon took a huge burden off of Korra and Lin, but you still couldn’t help but feel unhappy. Amon wanted everyone to be equal, and yes he took it to the extreme of things, but he strived for balance. He was right about the haughtiness in benders and how they carried themselves. Even you had trouble with the ego of bending. Even though Amon had escaped, your bones felt heavy. Something told you that he was dead. It didn’t matter anymore did it? “Mind if I buy you a drink?” Glancing over, a man around your age slid in the stool next to you. You raised a brow taking a sip before replying. “I’m fine thank you.” 

“C’mon don’t be so uptight sweetheart.” You shot him a glare, your jaw clenched together. “I said. I’m fine.” The man snorted. His brown eyes glanced to your ears and his glance became curious. The gold earrings you wore twinkled in the light. They were an anniversary gift Lin had given you for occasions such as these. Two precious rubies dripped from each earring along with the necklace you wore.

“There you are.” The anger in your veins dissipated from the voice you’ve been waiting to hear all night. You smiled, turning to Lin. Sliding out of the barstool you sighed,“Finally, I’ve been waiting for a while now.” Lin hummed, “I was kept up by the reporters.” You giggled at the annoyance in her tone. She wanted to go home and rest while everyone else danced the night away. You couldn’t really blame her. 

Glancing back, you noticed the man’s eyes bulging out of his head. He looked like a toad as he stared at that two of you. Lin’s eyes narrowed, holding his stare. “Is there a problem,” she snapped, crossing her arms. The man shook his head quickly, “N-no.” “Carry on then.” He turned quickly and you giggled as he stared down into his drink.

He muttered the words “gold digger” as the two of you left the bar.

“You’re dating?” Lin could feel the headache already starting to form. For god’s sake the two of you just got here. “Yes, we’re dating,” Lin confirmed, albeit a bit harshly. Tenzin’s brows raised in surprise while his kids squawked around him. Lin’s distaste for children didn’t lessen slightly. You stood next to her fumbling over your words and twiddling with your fingers. Your cheeks were pink in contrast to Lin’s tugging frown. ‘So much for secrecy,’ you thought. Tenzin gaped like a fish and closed his mouth. This proceeded to continue for several seconds until eventually he kept it shut. “Out with it,” Lin huffed. Her posture was rigid and she seethed with anger. It was supposed to be a nice picnic with just the two of you. Tenzin and his family seemed to have other plans, however. “I-I’m not trying to be rude,” he sputtered. “But Lin you’re definitely much older.” These types of conversations were nothing new. However, Lin seemed to be very upset. “Councilman Tenzin,” you murmured sharply, “With all do respect, it is none of your business.” He deflated at your response. You were known for keeping your cool, going against the stigma of firebenders. “Now if you’ll excuse me, my girlfriend and I will be going home. Have a lovely day.” Grabbing the supplies you and Lin trekked back home.

Lin groaned as she flopped on the couch. The picnic’s failure soured her mood. “It seems like we can’t go anywhere these days,” she grumbled. “I take one day off from work.” You sighed as you finished putting away the uneaten packed food. “I know dear, I know.”

Lin huffed in reply. “Getting called a gold digger, or being told “I could take care of you soooo much better” gets really tiring after awhile,” you said through gritted teeth. Lin’s eyes softened. Slowly she made her way into the kitchen where you unpacked the basket. “I didn’t know you were being called that.” You sighed, “It’s fine really, I shouldn’t let it get to me.” Her hand gently grasped your arm. “It’s not fine, you should have told me.” “I know,” you muttered, turning to face her, “but every time I commented about it, it seemed to make you feel bad.”

Lin’s hands grasped your cheeks softly. She gently kissed your lips. “They’ll get used to it,” you said once you both pulled away. “I’m sorry if I made you upset.” Her brows furrowed. “What?” “Yknow, how I handled Tenzin. I didn’t mean to blow up like that. But I guess that’s what’s expected, being a firebender and all. You chuckled humorlessly. Lin laughed, “You handled it perfectly. It was rude to comment on it.” “Besides,” Lin continued, “You’re the calmest firebender I’ve met. Better than that Mako guy.” You giggled as you wrapped your arms around her neck.

“He can be a pain,” you agreed. Lin’s arms wrapped around your lower back.  “It’s hard with the stigma firebenders have. They think we’re all hot headed and destructive. “Nonsense my dear,” Lin replied, leaning down to kiss your head. “You’re the best damn one out there.” You grinned at her response. “And you’re the most hot headed earth bender Republic City’s ever seen.” Lin snorted, “Alright moments over.” You laughed, squeezing her tightly. “Ohhh come on Lin, you know it’s true.” She rolled her eyes and scoffed but you could see the smile on her lips.

[recurring-polynya]

@trulytaka​ asked: um i’ve always dreamt about a tattoo artist!renji falling for a client AU. it’s okay if you can’t come up with anything, just a suggestion!

How is it even possible that I have never read a Tattoo Artist! Renji AU?? (If there is one, please, send it to me immediately). Anyway, I got way too enamored of this idea, this is not even remotely a drabble, it is 4400 words and it is incredibly self-indulgent, I am absolutely not sorry.

It takes place in America and everyone is Japanese-American, because I am way more comfortable writing about American tattoo culture. I have never actually read a Tattoo Artist AU, I don’t know how they are supposed to go, this is just based on my own experiences getting inked. It’s mostly a story about Rukia and Renji being incredible nerfballs, there are not nearly enough stories about Rukia being a nerfball around Renji.

Read on ao3 or ff.net

💀     🛹     💕

Izuru Kira found Renji Abarai in the break room, simultaneously trying to cram a burrito into his face and read a Hellboy comic. He was holding the comic open with his elbow in an attempt to avoid spilling guacamole on Abe Sapien.

“Your two o’clock is here,” Izuru informed his distinguished colleague.

“Oh, great!” Renji replied, creasing the foil wrapper into a spout so that he could pour the last of the salsa drippings into his mouth.

“She’s waiting in the consult room,” Izuru went on, watching Renji toss the crumpled foil ball across the room, completely missing the trash can. “Look, have you met her before? A Miss Kuchiki?”

“Just exchanged a few emails,” Renji replied, as he scrubbed his hands at the sink. “Why? Is she scary?”

“Not in the usual way of Abarai clients,” Izuru replied. “I was just… wondering if she was... in the right place.”

“Her request was very specific,” Renji replied, scooping up his comic and the manila folder underneath it. “In fact, I am quite proud of what I came up with for her.” He whipped the folder open.

Izuru stared at it for a moment. “That is so specific.”

“I honestly think this is one of the best tatts I have ever designed. I hope she’s a real weirdo, because not just anyone deserves a masterpiece of this caliber.”

“Mmm,” Izuru agreed. “Yeah. Anyway, if there’s been a, uh, miscommunication, see if you can just… redirect her. Both Momo and I are in today, okay?”

Renji scoffed and stuffed his comic in Izuru’s hand as he marched down the hall toward the consult room. A miscommunication. Renji wondered what was wrong with her. She was probably mousy and wore glasses. Izuru always assumed girls like that would rather have a sad poem about the sea or a sprig of herbs inked on her wrist (conveniently, his specialties). Plenty of mousy girls with glasses would rather rock some fangs or dripping daggers, in Renji’s professional experience.

“Knock knock!” he announced, as he slid the door open. He took one step into the room and stopped dead.

Rukia Kuchiki was not mousy. She did not wear glasses.

Renji didn’t know much about suits. He did not happen to own one himself. But he guessed that Rukia Kuchiki’s suit was expensive, in part because it fit her perfectly, despite her tiny frame. It was jet black, and didn’t have a single speck of lint or cat hair on it. Her perfectly manicured hands were folded neatly on top of her crossed legs. She was wearing very tall, very pointy heels. Their soles were bright red, which Renji had learned from television meant that they were super expensive. He realized that he probably shouldn’t be looking at her legs, even though they were very nice to look at. His eyes snapped up to her face, but that honestly wasn’t any better.

Renji wasn’t often attracted to women, but she had probably the most interesting face he had ever seen-- heart-shaped, with big, dark eyes, a sharp chin, the cutest little nose. Her make-up was subtle and professional, and her hair was swept up with a clip, although it must be fairly short, because a few pieces hung down in front of her ears, and a thick lock dangled between her eyes.

She looked like a mean lawyer from a movie, one that would drive a fancy sportscar like an act of violence. Scary, for sure. But not in the usual way of Abarai clients, who tended toward the large and beefy, not that sharp and sharklike.

That nose, though.

Suddenly, her face split into a big grin. “Hi,” she announced brightly. “I’m Rukia Kuchiki.” She had a deep voice, a very beautiful voice. “You must be Renji Abarai.” Her eyes flicked to his arms. “I mean, of course you are, who else would have those arms? They’re so cool.”

“My arms?” Renji said stupidly. “Are they… famous?”

Rukia’s cheeks flushed. “Oh, well, I follow you on Instagram, and you don’t have any pictures of your face, but your arms are in a lot of the shots and they’re, well, they’re kinda distinctive. Do you think, um, would you mind if I looked at them?”

Renji’s eyebrows shot up. It’s not like he wasn’t used to having his arms checked out, but most people were more… subtle about it. Oh, well, it was her dime. “I didn’t do them myself, obviously,” he pointed out, rolling up the sleeves of his t-shirt so she could see the baboon skull on his left shoulder. A skeletal arm traced down the rest of that arm, complete with an outline of his own hand bones. On the right side, a snake spine coiled around his bicep, ending with a hissing skull. “I mean, it was my design, but my friends-- the other three tattoo artists here-- all helped ink me up.” He plopped down in the chair that sat catty corner to the couch where Rukia was sitting, and held his arms out. “We’re sort of a full-service studio. I’m the skeletons and monsters guy. Izuru, the guy you met on desk duty today-- is good at calligraphy and watercolors and little, itty bitty tattoos. Momo is our nature girl, she specializes in flowers and animals, and she’s great with bright colors. The snake skull was all her. Shuuhei is really into classic tattoo art-- you need a hula girl or a heart with an arrow through it, he’s your man. He’s also incredibly talented at revamping old regret tattoos, there’s good money in that.”

“Mm,” Rukia agreed, finally tearing her eyes away from his forearms to look up at his face, and abruptly turned even pinker. A lot of people fantasized about getting a tattoo and then got a bad case of nerves when it was time to make the leap. Maybe all this was way out of her comfort zone. Renji was trying his best to be friendly and chatty, which usually helped, but he was not used to dealing with this class of lady. He hoped he wasn’t coming off as too familiar.

“Actually,” Rukia went on, pulling on her fingers nervously. “I picked this place specifically because of you. For your work, I mean. I’m kind of a big fan. I saw some of your paintings at an exhibition over at the Fine Arts College, and I just, you know, fell in love. I’d always thought I’d like to get a tattoo someday, and when I found out that you were a tattoo artist, I knew it had to be you. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time, and I’m babbling and I’m really sorry, I’m just very excited.”

Renji blinked. “You’re not babbling,” he replied slowly. He was sort of hoping she might say some more things about how much she liked his art in her beautiful voice. “Wait, an exhibition at the art school? That must have been at least three years ago, when I was doing my MFA.”

“Er, right,” Rukia looked a little sheepish. “A friend of mine had some work in the same exhibit, you probably don’t know her. My favorite one of your paintings was the one with the Black Lagoon creatures eating hamburgers at a diner, but I also really liked the one that was like a huge monster with a big bone mask stalking through a city, the way you did the shadows was just incredible.”

That particular painting was currently wrapped in brown paper and stuffed behind Renji’s couch. His last boyfriend had told him it was “creepy.”

“Uh, glad you liked it,” Renji managed. “Who was your friend?”

“Her name is Inoue. Orihime Inoue.”

“Oh, the robot girl!” Renji exclaimed. “Er, I mean she drew robots. Constantly. For every assignment. I didn’t mean to imply she was… robotic. In any way.” Jeez, Abarai, pull it together, he chided himself. “Yeah, I remember her. I didn’t know her well, but she sure could draw some tight robots. Is, she, uh, doing well?”

“She’s doing storyboards for a stop-motion animation studio,” Rukia replied.

Renji smiled. “That sounds perfect for her.”

Rukia bit her bottom lip and Renji’s throat went dry.

“So, um, you said in your email that you would have a design for me to look at?”

Renji realized that he was gripping the folder like a doofus. “Right! I did a couple of variations,” he explained, passing it from one hand to the other. “But you explained the concept pretty clearly, and I’m really happy with how the first one came out. I mean, obviously, it’s your tattoo! Please give me any feedback you have, you won’t offend me, even if you hate it! Tattoo designs often take a few iterations, it’s very normal, don’t hold back.”

She was staring at him, those big eyes wide and sparkling. “Can I… see it?”

“Oh! Right!” He shoved the folder at her.

Rukia opened it up and gasped.

“I especially love the way you draw skeletons,” Rukia’s email had read. “Do you think you could tattoo a grim reaper doing a sick kickflip on a skateboard onto my outer bicep? I do lift, so I am pretty jacked, if that makes a difference.”

“It’s perfect,” Rukia sighed in a tiny voice.

“Um, in the first variation (that’s page 2) I added some sunglasses, and in the second one, the grim reaper is flipping the bird and also its head is on fire. I guess I thought that grim reapers should be gender neutral but now I’m wondering if you would have preferred more of a… lady grim reaper?” Renji yammered absently.

“Oh, no,” Rukia murmured softly, flipping through the pages. Renji wasn’t even sure she had listened to a word he had said. “These are amazing. I love the sunglasses, but I also like the way you put little flames in the eye sockets in the first one…” She waved a hand absently. “Oh, and don’t worry, I like a non-binary skeleton.”

A small problem had just occurred to Renji. “Hey, um, please don’t take this the wrong way, but I… may have overestimated the size of your arms.”

“Oh?” Rukia asked, and abruptly shucked off her expensive suit jacket. She was wearing a pale purple sleeveless silk blouse underneath. She held one arm out experimentally, and then flexed. The muscle definition on her bicep made Renji take an involuntary swallow, but the fact that she was wicked cut did not buy him much in the way of real estate.

“I’ll just shrink it down maybe 25%,” he reassured her. “I’ll have to simplify some of the detail on--”

“No,” Rukia frowned, her eyebrows drawing together. “Don’t do that.” She thought for a moment. “I’m not committed to having it on my arm.” She uncrossed her legs and hefted one high-heeled foot onto the coffee table in front of her. “What do you think? Is my thigh big enough?”

Renji tried to make words come out, but it just wasn’t happening.

“Er… sorry,” Rukia said slowly, tugging at her hem. “I forgot I was wearing a skirt today.”

“Huh?” Renji scrambled to recover. He needed to say something. She looked really embarrassed. Say something! Say something professional about her leg! “Sorry, I was, uh, thinking!” Good, good, now keep going. “Don’t be self-conscious, I see people’s bodies all the time. Bodies are no big deal, we all got ‘em, right?” This was true in the abstract sense, but he knew these were blatant lies as they exited his mouth. Most people’s bodies were no big deal. He had only known her for five minutes, but was certain that Rukia Kuchiki’s thighs were a very big deal. He studied her leg, stroking his chin, like he was some kind of anthropologist of thigh tattoos. Mostly he was trying to figure out what would seem like an appropriate amount of time to look at a person’s thigh, a person who was your professional client that you most definitely did not have the hots for. “There’s certainly plenty of room,” he declared. “But, you know, people are going to see it less. Which is a selling point for some people! It’s just a personal decision that you’ll have to make. It sounds like you had a big vision.”

Rukia gingerly placed her foot back on the floor. “I had actually been wondering if maybe the upper arm was too public, anyway,” she admitted. “The fact is, I just got full access to my trust fund, and this is sort of a celebration, but I may have been a little overeager to piss off my big brother. He’s very stodgy.” She contemplated the area of her leg that was covered by her pencil skirt. “But so are a lot of people in my field. I can wait until I’m running my own company before I get started on the full sleeve of my dreams, right?”

“Worked for me,” Renji replied, utterly lost by whatever she was talking about. “What… field are you in?”

“Oh, finance,” she dismissed.

Finance. Of course. Renji tried to shoo away the weight of disappointment that was settling in his stomach. He was talking to a friendly client who was clearly loaded, loved his work, and was contemplating thousands of dollars worth of future business. He should be thrilled. He should probably be trying to sell her one of his old paintings-- they were only gathering dust, anyway. Renji would never break the studio policy about hitting on clients. The fact that she would surely laugh at him if he asked her to his favorite burger joint ought to make things easier, right?

“This is so hard!” Rukia declared, and Renji was shaken from his reverie. She was just contemplating his draft designs again, though, flipping back and forth between them.

“You don’t have to decide right now,” he reassured her. “You can think about it and email me. If you’re happy enough, we can schedule your session, and we’ll work out the details between now and then. Chat it over with your pal MechaHime, she’s got good opinions.” He paused. Momo always said he was too nice during consults, they were running a business, but he couldn’t help it. “Or you can just call back when you’re ready. No pressure.”

Rukia slammed her fist down on her knee. “No! Let’s schedule it! Do I pay now?”

“20% deposit. Let’s go out front, Izuru will ring it up.”

“Perfect.” She looked longingly at the drawings again. “Can I take these with me? You’re absolutely right, Orihime will know what to do.”

Renji wrinkled his nose. “It’s actually against studio policy but…”

Rukia’s face suddenly became very serious. “Then it’s against policy.” She winked at him and smiled. “You should take care of your intellectual property, Mr. Abarai.”

“I never get over to this part of town, to be honest,” Rukia admitted as they walked back up to the front. “Is the taco place across the street any good?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s great,” Renji agreed. “Momo and I painted a huge mural on their wall, so they give us free churros.”

“Are tacos a good post-tattoo celebratory meal?” Rukia asked curiously.

“Well, you actually want to eat beforehand,” Renji pointed out. “It’s important to keep your energy up. I don’t estimate yours should take very long, I’m gonna book you a two-hour slot.”

“Ah, okay,” Rukia agreed, and Renji realized belatedly that...maybe… she had been asking him out? No. Surely not. His brain scrabbled for a response, but then he stepped into the reception area and his brain shut down entirely.

“It’s DONE!” Shuuhei bellowed. “Behold my work, ye mighty, and despair!”

Tetsuzaemon Iba, serial client, yakuza enthusiast, and assistant manager at a doggie day care, was flexing. He was not wearing a shirt.

From behind the reception desk, Kira was wearing a dour frown and shaking his head.

“It’s a masterpiece,” Renji declared. “I admit I was skeptical, but it looks fantastic, man. You happy with it?”

“It” was a massive tattoo, covering the wide landscape of Iba’s broad back. It featured a lucky cat, grinning maniacally, its paw held high. It was on fire. The kanji for “lucky charm” was incorporated somehow. It was a disaster. It was perfect.

“How could I not be?” Iba boomed.

“Whoa,” a tiny voice behind Renji said.

Iba’s face went pale when he realized that he was being Peak Iba in front of an elegant, professional woman whose shoes probably cost more than his entire net worth. “Gimme me my shirt!” he demanded of Shuuhei.

“That’s… amazing!” Rukia exclaimed, her face lighting up. “Wow, how long did that take?”

Shuuhei blinked slowly as he passed Iba his shirt. “Five sessions.”

“Well, it’s so cute!” Rukia announced. “You must love cats.”

Iba lifted at the same gym as Renji and watched Momo’s Pomeranian on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He was a regular fixture at the tattoo studio, and all four of them liked to drag him, but no one, none of them, had ever roasted him this hard. Renji cursed that no-asking-out-clients rule, because he wanted to buy Rukia Kuchiki her own body weight in tacos and then ask her to be his wife.

“He’s more of a dog person,” Shuuhei supplied.

“Great with dogs,” Izuru added.

“Shut up, you jerks, I am a lover of all animals,” Iba grumbled as he pulled his Hawaiian shirt over his shoulders. “Is this your lawyer, Abarai? Did you finally get arrested for that hairstyle?”

“I have an MBA, actually, not a JD,” Rukia replied matter-of-factly. “And I am his client. Can you show that large man my tattoo design? Is that allowed?”

Renji chuckled, and pulled out his drawing.

“That,” Iba declared, “is a wicked tatt.”

“Oh, you showed me that email!” Shuuhei recalled. “It came out great.” He regarded Rukia. “He was really excited about that one, you made his day.”

Rukia just beamed proudly.

“Are we booking a session, then?” Izuru asked hopefully.

“Yeah, two hours,” Renji nodded.

“Let me just finish ringing up Iba, and I’ll see when you’ve got an opening,” Izuru replied.

“This your first one?” Shuuhei asked Rukia conversationally.

“Mm-hmm,” Rukia nodded.

“Well, you made a good choice. Clean design, mostly black with just a few color pops, should go on quick and easy, and it’ll hold up really well, too.”

“This is Shuuhei, the one I was telling you about, who fixes a lot of bad tattoos.”

“I have never had to fix an Abarai tattoo,” Shuuhei declared. “He’s great with first timers. Very gentle. I’ve fallen asleep while he was inking me.” Shuuhei pointed to the pair of crossed scythes gracing his upper arm. “This is one of his.”

“Oooh, neat!” Rukia agreed.

“You’re being embarrassing,” Renji informed his friend.

“Always,” Shuuhei agreed. “Nice to meet you! I hope I get to see the finished product.” He waved to Iba as he headed off toward the back. “Don’t forget to moisturize!”

“Everyone’s so friendly here,” Rukia said softly to Renji. “This isn’t at all like I pictured it.”

Renji stretched his arms behind his head. “Nah, we’re just a bunch of goofballs who like drawin’ on people. Very lowkey.”

“I guess I’ve thought a lot about the getting tattooed part of getting tattooed, but I never thought of it as… a job. That people have.”

“It’s a great job,” Renji replied. “I love it. I’m just lucky that Izuru over there has enough business sense to keep the other three of us from running it into the ground.”

“That’s certainly the truth,” Izuru agreed, as Iba headed out the door. “Two hours, you said? Renji’s got a 4-6pm block open on a Wednesday, three weeks from now. The 24th, how does that work for you, Ms. Kuchiki?”

“Do you think that’s enough time to settle on a design?” Renji asked. “If you come up with changes, it should only take me a day or two to incorporate them.”

“Oh! Yes, three weeks should be fine. I thought… it might be a little sooner,” Rukia replied, sounding a tad disappointed.

“Abarai’s a busy man, three weeks is actually pretty quick,” Izuru explained.

“Right, of course!” Rukia nodded. “Yes, I’ll take the 24th!”

She then paid her deposit, a process which involved her taking approximately ten thousand items out of her purse, including a full-sized drawing pad, a single fingerless glove, and a Pez dispenser with a duck head. She was the most contradictory person Renji had ever met, and he just wanted to know everything about her. But instead, they were going to exchange a couple of emails about a grim reaper on a skateboard, he was going to spend an hour and a half two inches from her naked thigh in a state of intense, non-sexual concentration, and then he would likely never see her again.

“Okay, I guess that’s it!” Rukia said, stuffing the last of her worldly belongings back into the purse. “Three weeks, then!”

“Three weeks it is,” Renji agreed. “Unless we happen to run into each other at the taco place.”

Rukia blinked. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “Right. Ha, ha, of course!” She’d been walking backwards toward the door, an impressive feat in those heels, and she spun suddenly to pull it open.

“It’s a push,” Renji and Izuru chorused together.

“Ha, ha, of course it is!” Rukia laughed nervously, and ducked out.

Izuru stared pointedly at Renji. “Wow,” he said.

“I don’t know what you have against her,” Renji scowled. “So she’s professional. She was really nice. She’s a big fan of my work.”

Izuru cocked his head. “She’s clearly also a big fan of you.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Renji said.

“Look, I’m sorry I implied that a person who drives a Lotus Exige would not be interested in having your weird skeleton doodles permanently placed on her body,” Izuru held up his hands, “but did you really not notice the little hearts and singing birds floating around her head every time she gazed longingly at you?”

“Since when do you know anything about cars?” Renji snapped.

“It looked fancy and I asked Shuuhei what it was, okay!”

On cue, Shuuhei burst back into the reception area, Momo close on his tail. “Are we talking about the hot client who has a crush on Abarai?”

“Did you ask her out?” Momo asked breathlessly.

“She’s not really his type,” Izuru mused. “Very corporate.”

Renji frowned. Did he have a type? If his type excluded people like Rukia Kuchiki, he might need to get a new type.

“Who cares, she was adorable!” Momo insisted. “I woulda asked her out.”

“Renji, if you go out with her, can you get me a ride in the Exige?” Shuuhei added.

“I’m not gonna ask her out!” Renji protested. “What happened to the no-hitting-on-clients rule?”

“The rule is no creeping on clients,” Shuuhei correctly. “This is different. She’s clearly into you, big time.”

“Also, she seems non-terrible, unlike the questionable human beings you usually take up with,” Izuru pointed out. “We could relax the rule if it netted you an actually decent partner for a change.”

Renji scowled judgmentally at Izuru, as if his own dating history had been remotely better before he and Shuuhei finally hooked up.

“Oh!” Momo waved her phone. “Speaking of which, I googled her, like you told me to, Izuru--”

“Izuru!” Renji protested.

“--and you were right! She’s not just one of the Kuchikis, she’s the granddaughter!” Momo thrust her phone in Renji’s face. It was some article about some fancy charity event, complete with a picture that was clearly Rukia, dressed in a dramatic black and gold evening gown.

Renji wanted to push Momo’s hand away, but he also didn’t want to stop looking at Rukia in that dress. “The who?” he asked.

Izuru and Momo sighed dramatically in synchronized exasperation.

“Embarrassingly rich old money family? I don’t know what they actually do, but they’re always in the newspapers, donating money for something or other--”

“Billionaire philanthropists,” Shuuhei intoned in a fake deep voice.

“--I heard they’re descended from some famous clan of samurai back in Japan,” Momo ignored him. She jerked her phone back and started tapping at it frantically. “I’m sure you’ve seen pictures of the grandson-- Rukia’s brother, I guess. He always makes those lists of top ten hottest bachelors.”

“He’s dreamy,” Shuuhei seconded.

“Impossibly dreamy,” Izuru thirded.

Momo flipped her phone around again, to reveal a picture of a very serious, and very handsome man in a classic three-piece wool suit. Renji supposed “impossibly dreamy” was not an inaccurate description.

“Yeah, I think I’ve seen pictures of that guy before,” Renji shrugged. “He’s okay. Rukia has a more interesting face, I think.”

Momo and Shuuhei exchanged raised eyebrows.

“You do like her, then?” Izuru asked, his face brightening. “You’re wrong, by the way, Byakuya Kuchiki has the face of an angel.”

“Rukia says he’s stuffy,” Renji shrugged. “And fine. I like her. She’s cute and nice and had good taste in tattoos. What’s not to like?”

“Are you gonna ask her out, then?” Momo pressed.

“Absolutely not,” Renji replied. “She’s my client. Besides, as you just pointed out, she’s loaded. What’s she want with a scumbag like me?”

All three of his friends groaned.

“You have good delts and sexy hair,” Izuru pointed out.

“You give amazing hugs!” Momo declared.

“You draw fantastic skeletons,” Shuuhei added. “Which, apparently, is relevant to her interests, and not a thing you usually find on Tindr.”

“Also, we’ve already established that she does like you, regardless of whether she has a valid reason for doing so,” Izuru concluded. “So, if you’re at all interested, you really shouldn’t let that stop you.”

“I think you should go for it,” Momo encouraged.

“Me, too,” Shuuhei agreed.

Renji grimaced. She was an amazing girl, too good to be true probably. If she had any sense at all, she would certainly turn him down. But maybe… just maybe… she didn’t have any sense. “Okay,” he grudgingly agreed. “I’ll do it. But not until I’m finished the damn tattoo!”

[oh-theres-a-woman]

Flowers in a Peaked Cap; Part One

A/N: Heres to attempt two at writing this author’s note… Let’s just say, I haven’t perfected the art of saving drafts. Note to self to actually find out how to make the draft before losing three solid paragraphs of rambling about the story… Sophie Points; Nil. Laptop/Internet Points; One. Welp, honestly internet and laptop have won a hell of a lot more than that. Just don’t remember how many times I’ve lost work because of not quite understanding how to post on here…. Safe to say I’m still a noob. 

Any hoot! Enough rambling about that stuff. 

After posting the first piece to this story; in the very very early hours of this morning. I couldn’t help but feel the massive urge to continue and work on the more of Tillie’s little adventure. It made me want to think about her as a person outside the relatives that we already know. What this girl’s goals are and ambitions. Unlike the rest of her family, I think she has a relatable amount of vulnerability and anxieties that are more from society’s working in the 1920s compared to her brothers; Arthur, Thomas and John that all suffer war-related mental illness and scars.   

Actively she’s a romantic escapist that wants to make her brothers and aunt proud. Making a name for herself in the means of writing and exploring the tales that are brewed from the memories of old days. 

In the progression of this story, I want to be able to explore the growth in Tillie as a young woman. The stepping out of her brothers’ shadows and coming into her own. Growing into a more confident young woman that could be from meeting new people like in this chapter and moving away from her fears. 

I do see romance in this story, something like and full of all the trend first experience one faces at one stage or another. In terms of smut, I’d think it’s lighter and would be something that is worked towards. Tillie to me doesn’t seem rather lust-driven. So, it’ll happen if it does, and if not; its simply because Tillie Shelby isn’t interested in that sort of thing. 

Important note; I’ll be working on organising the Taglist a little more throughout my next few posts. Please notify me if you’re interested in anything specifically and want tags there or if you mind just being on the general tag list and included in every story I post. Thank you!!!  

Requested By; @csigeoblue​

Parts; [ Prologue ] 

Taglist; @zodiyack​, @itsfrancisneptun​, @amys-small-world​, @fandom-fucking-shit​, @hesagod-notyet​, @hinagiku0​, @dylanlover24​, @amirahiddleston​, @a-dorky-book-keeper​, @theamuz​, @csigeoblue​, @smallheathgangsters​, @beautycinders 

Word Count; 1400

Watery Lane wasn’t the play that supported the wild fantasy’s of Tillie Shelby, but the little bookshop that was filled with many hopefuls or lads that were born a little more well off collectively grouped together. Reading the stories they wrote. This gathering was apparently one that caught the attention of the paper since the known publishers and well-off lads from another book club around England had found themselves doing a sort of travel for their source material. 

Since the profile of this club of prolific writers had taken interest in the area of Small Heath and its inhabitants. Inviting upstart writers or aspiring tellers to come and meet them. So, onward the youngest Shelby strolled until she pulled open the door of the quaint little bookshop. The signal of her arrival was the sound of her kitten heels and the ringing of the bell on the door. Doe-like blue eyes that were like the crystal-clarity of the purest of water found themselves settling on a group of well-dressed gentlemen.  Her eyes flicker between some faces she knew of Small Heath, most of them being the arseholes she went to school with and thought themselves privy to a better life. 

It wasn’t that Tillie didn’t believe they weren’t welcome to it. Mostly, it was the way they treated people in order to get there the young woman didn’t quite agree with. She was rather foolish coming to her though since her brother’s had a very vision about how the Shelby family should be seen. Their measures to getting things done with it were also less than admirable. Perhaps, it was the fact that Billy Bronson, James Fitz and Joe Gilbert made hers and Finn’s school life a living hell one way or another. But, it also made it seem extremely unfair to talk to their older brothers about what happened. Since most knew better than to fuck with the kin of the Peaky Blinders. 

Plooms of cigarette smoke clouded in the air, filling the bookstore with a spiced herbal infusion and rippled tailored sticks of tobacco. Moving her gaze from the lads she knew; to the new arrivals. The youngest of the Shelby mob offered a little smile. “Is there room for one more?” Tillie finally spoke up, pulling her book that contained the novel she had poured hours and hours over. Smiling hopefully. Arms hugging the expensive leather made book that her brothers banded together in the hopes for a lovely birthday present in the days before the war. 

Hoping that she’d fill in with various things she enjoyed to draw, but instead, Tillie hadn’t touched it until she was old enough to respect things. Asking Aunt Pol to help her keep in a safe place until then. Scraps of paper were best for sketches in any case. 

Eyes ever hopeful looked at the posher sort, some seemed wary until a certain collared lad smiled and offered a little nod then the place he’d been sitting. Away from the boys that seemed to make life a little more bothersome. “Thank you,” she whispered, settling down in the seat. Resting the book down on her lap before looking to the other lads who straightened their composure.

“We were all about to introduce ourselves since we’ve never travelled outside of London for such a meeting before. Yet, it seemed like a brilliant idea when bought up. Birmingham seemed like the best place, so raw and thrilling. Small Heath alone.” Spoke finally a lad in a handsome waist-coat, the colouring of coal, stiff collar and matching suit made her think of it being something her brother; Tom would wear. Only on the best occasions, or when he was dressing-to-impress. Unlike Thomas, this lad had handsome hazel eyes, the slightest tan to his skin like he enjoyed the frolicking on the beach. His name was Walter, but everyone called him, Walt. 

“Even the presence of criminal activity and organisations like the Peaky Blinders, it does make the area a prize for writing. Wouldn’t you agree, lads,” spoke up for eccentric Norman, who took delight in the thing that only made Tillie smile in a measure of great awkwardness. The name seemed to follow her everywhere she went, and there was a measure of awkwardness for that.  “Sorry, miss, I didn’t quite mean to be so rude, it’s just you don’t seem the sort to know much on that end, too kind and pretty, huh?” Norm covered himself for any form of rudeness that could have been interpreted. 

Only causing a polite little lowering of her head, as her hands wrapped anxiously around her book’s spine. Before relaxing at the conversation drifting off elsewhere. Sobering to the notion that the following cough from Joe Gilbert had goosebumps appearing on her arms. Causing a vast amount of discomfort in the young woman. Tillie traded glances with the nicer of the Londoner’s; Robert. Whom quickly coughed to get things back on track. 

“In any case, back to the introductions. We shouldn’t dwell too long on the story topics if we’ve lacked the proper course of introduction. Shall I start?” Robert spoke up, settled against set up for the purpose of meetings. “My name is Robert Augustine, myself and these other gentlemen,” he said, gesturing to the others in the group of London lads. 

“Are from a collective of young men that wish to write and publish arts. Never before have we had a lady join us, but surely in this modern world we’d be able to welcome the bright minds of femininity amongst us. After all, lady authors are blooming into the publishing world more and more with each generation.” His words seemed to still the anxiousness within her soul at the agreement of his other companions. Looking forward to seeing a hand extended to her, Robert allowed her to stand. The mix of coarseness and softness met between the two palms meet. 

Holding her book, Tillie looked down smiling a little at her feet. Hugging her book to her chest, like it was the most precious thing to her. That was… Because it truly was the thing that held so much value to her heart. Her right hand still gently in the hold of the Londoner, cheeks lightly warming. “I’m Tillie Shelby, and I like to write about my brothers, their stories before the war. When we were kids,” she lit up sweetly talking of her brothers. Her hand and Robert’s naturally finding it parting, before he settled in his spot by the desk. Arms folding at his chest with a little smile. 

“Would you be willing to share any of those stories?” Robert asked in a light voice. Tillie could only think of one response. 

“Would I ever,” she beamed with a presence that seemed to warm the room and the quiet little shop around them. Settling down into her seat once more, she didn’t think about when the others were introducing themselves. Instead, she found herself lost within stories. The more whimsical tales of lads that laughed and partied. Or the ones that filled with a warmth that made her think of the family that suppressed or lost who they were before the war. Among them, none had known those woes and horrors. 

They’d seen things happen on the outside. Felt the absence of a brother, father, uncle or grandfather that either died or lost what kept to their memory that their younger-selves recalled. Tillie was young then. Merely a baby in some regard. But she couldn’t ever forget the days of laughter, wherein night terrors; her heroes would just come up and curl into the undersized cot she called a bed. Soothing their fingers along with the softness of infant or child hairs–that had yet to understand dryness or damage. 

When business didn’t entirely rule the Shelby family but happened in the background. Those were her tales. The tales of rawness and loss from a different scene. Where her brothers; the men who took over the role of an absent father, became; fathers, uncles, older brothers and best friends. And… Pol became the only mother she ever knew and remembered. Her voice spoke of the volumes to family values and how terrible things broke people. Yet, she never uttered their names aloud. 

Only recording them within her mind when she read the tales that meant something to one of her brothers. Art. Tom. John.

[shiny-procrastinates]

(re)Watching Magia Record S1 - part 11

part 10 here

Hello and welcome back everyone to our Magia Record s1 watch-along! Last time, we had the aftermath of the Endless Solitude's incident, found out that Mami is now part of the Wings of the Magius and left off with the reveal that one of Ui's (Iroha's sister, for those who have forgotten) might be another one of the Magius. What is this all about? Let's watch and find out:

Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story: Magia Record S1 episode 11

For some reason, we are now watching Tsukuyo's club practice. Wait- Akatsuki? That's not the surname I remember. We also see a photo of Mifuyu on the club room, so they must've been club mates.

Good question, Tsukuyo. Maybe she's waiting for Sana? (lies)

awnt the whole family's on the op now. Yachiyo is even smiling!

NOW we're back to where the other episode left off. According to Sana, she sometimes heard the Feathers talking about Nemu when they came to Ai's barrier to retrieve a witch. The girls then wonder if Nemu's being forced to work with them and Iroha says that maybe Ui's being kept captive by them too, with everyone falling silent at this.

Felicia asks if they can't just catch a Feather and force them to speak, so Tsuruno says if they should keep going after the Rumors them. While the three are wondering that, Iroha remembers about Tsukuyo, who she had seen in her uniform, and we are now back to the present.

Yeah right, are you saying you were actually triplets?

So Iroha decided to catch Tsukuyo after school. If Tsukuyo had a braincell, she could've left by a backdoor or used her magical girl powers to jump over the wall, but it seems she borrowed hers to Tsukasa today.

Tsukuyo stops Iroha from outing her as a Feather, so Iroha invites her to go talk somewhere else. Tsukuyo asks if she plans to interrogate her or worse but Iroha really only wants to talk.

After changing locations, Iroha seems to have told Tsukuyo about her situation. Tsukuyo asks why Iroha would go so far as telling her that, and Iroha answers that she needs to see Nemu no matter what.

After asking who between Tsukuyo and Tsukasa is the younger sister, appealing to their point in common, Iroha threatens outing Tsukuyo to the others if she doesn't let her see Nemu. Tsukuyo is shocked, asking if she's threatening her and Iroha says she doesn't care if she sees it that way. Damn, Iroha really means business when it's about her sister.

As always when it comes to Ui, Iroha's unusually pushy, and Tsukuyo ends up giving in and promising to at least talk to Mifuyu about it.

Later that day, the Mikadzuki girls minus Yachiyo are having a meeting in Iroha's room, and decide to get Yachiyo coasters as a thank-you present for giving them the mugs. So cute.

...that's some interesting club this school has.

The next day, Iroha meets up after school with the other girls to go buy the coaster. Can we talk about the fact there's a group chat just for watching over Felicia? lol

The girls go buy the coaster, and get interrupted by a witch. Guess we can add that to the things magical girls can't do in peace. No probs Tsuruno, there's really no run-time for this.

Look how happy she is. Please don't ruin this in the next scene, show (flag).

Back at the house, Iroha's waiting for Yachiyo's return on Tsuruno's instructions. She hears the doorbell ring and answers it immediately, thinking it's Yachiyo (really, Iroha, why would Yachiyo ring the doorbell to her own house?) but, shockingly, it's Mifuyu.

This probably situation couldn't get more awkward for Iroha had they tried. Iroha tries to show some hospitality, but Mifuyu takes the lead and the opportunity to rub in that she knows the place (and its owner) way better. What's with the attitude, Mifuyu? It's not like Iroha threatened your friend or a- oh wait, nvm.

Iroha asks what business Mifuyu has with Yachiyo today, and Mifuyu asks in return if she has to have some business in order to visit a friend... no, not business Mifuyu but normally you'd warn someone before dropping by, where's your manners? Iroha points out that she hasn't visited for a long time and Mifuyu explains that she didn't come because she knew Yachiyo wouldn't agree with The Wings of the Magius. She then explains she's actually there to talk to Iroha today.

Oh, she did it, she flipped Iroha's switch.

Mifuyu asks if Iroha wouldn't join the cult if she wants to know about Nemu, but Iroha questions Mifuyu's motive for recruiting her, to which Mifuyu says it'd be good for them because she'd be able to investigate about her sister without clashing with them. Iroha presses her about Ui, which she says she doesn't know, and Nemu, but Mifuyu does not say anything else.

...aaand the other girls are standing there in the garden while all this is going on lol

*peek*

Mifuyu invites the girls of Mikadzuki Villa to attend a lecture about what exactly the cult is doing... this is definitely a trap ain't it. At that moment, Yachiyo arrives. Oooh man...

Mifuyu apologizes for the surprise and makes to leave, saying this one unpleasant remark to which Yachiyo angrily replies right away.

Mifuyu provokes Yachiyo, saying how she went back to being her old self, which Yachiyo denies, eventually losing her cool and ordering Mifuyu to leave.

Tsuruno tries to check on Yachiyo but Yachiyo also leaves. Felicia's confused and Tsuruno tries to keep a bright mood, but the atmosphere is definitely ruined.

Yachiyo has went back to her room and-

ohhwoah what is that that's creepy!

So, uhh, Yachiyo is not well at all, she's now hallucinating. Whatever Mifuyu was trying to get at earlier it definitely got to her.

Seems the other girls aren't having a much better night either... but at least they're not hallucinating.

The next day, Iroha relays Mifuyu's invitation to the others. Yachiyo, however, refuses to take part in the conversation and leaves. She's very clearly still bothered about what Mifuyu said, and now she's avoiding her team.

Iroha and the girls have each their reaction to Yachiyo's behavior for a moment, but then go back to the matter at hand. Sana asks if Iroha really plans on going to the lecture, and she says she decided it'd be best to go, after thinking it over. They don't want to fight the cult either, so it shouldn't hurt to at least try to hear them out. Felicia says it's definitely a trap but that they can just break out together then, with Tsuruno agreeing. The two laugh, but doesn't it feel kinda forced?

...and then they realize no one knows where Memory Museum is lol

Mitama! Long time no see.

Iroha drops by the Coordinator's to ask about Memory Museum, which Mitama reveals is a Rumor that's being spread around Sakae Ward.

We then get a scene about the contents of the Rumor. Apparently, the Memory Museum archives memories (who'd thought!) and you can do things with them by ringing a bell, or something. But if you see one you'll end up influenced by it. (I refuse to comment about the goat)

In any case, Momoko points on the map the probable location of Memory Museum, to which Iroha thanks the two and goes back. After Iroha leaving, Mitama advises Momoko to tell "something", at least to Rena, since Kaede is still down, and Momoko says she knows. Quite the dark clouds are on the horizon.

No, literally. It's raining.

Back at Mikadzuki Villa, all the girls except Yachiyo are leaving to go to Memory Museum. Iroha warns Yachiyo they're leaving, but she doesn't answer. Ohh Yachiyo, please, are you sure you won't regret this later?

Iroha and co. naruto run on the rain to Memory Museum, meeting Chibi Kyuubei on the entrance. Yep, definitely Rumor. I might be going crazy but I always think that Iroha looks more her age with the raincoat, despite Madoka's wei- I mean, unique art style. Gotta be something with the proportions.

Also like this detail with Tsuruno's coat folded weird and Felicia's not folded at all lol

We are platformer game now

While climbing up the drawers, the girls talk about chibi Kyuubei, eventually raising suggestions on how to name him... which is funny because that's for the player to decide in the game, so we don't have an official way to call him.

Meanwhile, Rena's meeting up with Momoko. She starts complaining like usual, but soon hesitates when she reads the mood. Momoko says she thought it was time to tell her what happened to Yachiyo one year ago. Wait, what? We never heard about anything either.

But, well... we can guess.

Back at the Memory Museum, Iroha might be the unluckiest mahou shoujo ever, because

One of the Magius is none other than one of her sister's friends.

- x -

Aaand that's it for episode 11. That last scene is a bomb drop, but it's not like you couldn't see it coming from the moment they said Nemu was part of the cult. I mean, if one of the hospital trio was erased from existence, and the other was part of the cult, what were the odds that the last one would be normal? lol

Talking about this scene, I feel compelled to post here the corresponding still from the game, because the world was robbed of Iroha's surprisingly gallant back:

Seriously, when was she ever this cool?

On the other hand, Touka looks like a cute normal kid here which is about as far of the truth as we can get, so I'll give the anime credit for that.

All that aside, we are now approaching the end! With the Magius giving a lecture about salvation and Momoko having a talk with Rena, it's quite clear that the truth about magical girls is about to be revealed to our cast next episode. The big question here is: how will they react? Felicia specially shouldn't be very happy to learn this, considering what her wish was. Exciting!

We also have left to wonder what's up with Yachiyo. Why did what Mifuyu say affect her so much? We have yet to see her backstory, so Momoko talking might just gives us the answer to that question.

With that said, I'll leave it here for today. I can't believe this ended up even later than yesterday considering I start writing even earlier. Dammit short attention span, stop getting sidetracked pls. Tomorrow we'll be watching episode 11 that's looking really promising, so I hope you'll be reading me again then. Have a good morning/afternoon/evening and bye-bye!

[bastillewolf]

Midnight In Sheffield (I)

Pairing: Alex Turner/Reader

Summary: When a soon-to-be-wedded insomniac author heads back home to visit her parents, she comes across the likes of a mysterious musician on her sleepless escapade in the AM.

Notes: Not sure if this is going to work out, but I’ve made the creative decision to write a series of Alex Turner fanfics, going down each album and all most likely lightly based off movies. Like the Grand Tranquility Hotel from the Grand Budapest Hotel, this one is based off Midnight In Paris. No need to have seen either movies to read these fics. It won’t take place around the same time, as Sheffield has been through some stuff in the early 1900s. I will keep it all a bit old-school themed, but just won’t name a specific era, so you can take your own spin on it. I’m not familiar with Sheffield at all, never been there, so I’ll keep locations vague and add the Paris theme a bit in there. Hope you tag along for the ride, and let’s have one for the road.

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

Chapter I - AM

“I don’t see how this could be more important to you than meeting my parents,” she grumbled, her voice muffled by the pillow she had planted her face in. The sheets of the bed were soft and had a pristine white colour, much to her dismay. The entire hotel room was much too extravagant to her liking, but it was Mark who insisted on paying extra to make their stay most comfortable.

“Please don’t be difficult now, sweetheart,” her fiancée replied, as he set one of his neatly folded trousers in the dresser on the shelf next to where his ironed shirts hung. “You know how much it means to me to be able to see James and Rachel again after all these years. I’m sure your parents will understand. If not, I’ll beg for their forgiveness.” He dramatically bent down to his knee, as if to gallantly portray his apology, making her roll her eyes.

“That wouldn’t be the first thing you’d have to apologize for. First of all, you’re going to have to tell my dad why you didn’t ask for his permission to marry me-“

“You already said yes!”

She shot him a look. “And secondly, you’re going to have to explain to my mum why you didn’t want to stay at their home. I think she would’ve been very happy to play hostess to the man who’s going to marry her daughter in a few.”

He crawled on top of the bed, his curly brown hair hanging over his face as he hovered above her and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be sure to make up for it. Now, please get changed. We’re having lunch.”

“Please don’t tell me it’s going to be at that ritzy restaurant we went to last time. I’m still not over the way that waiter felt the need to explain everything to me like a five-year-old whilst pointing everything out with his little finger.”

“Well, you can’t speak French, darling. I think he tried his best at explaining the menu to you.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Just, please stop drooling on the pillow and put on something nice. For me?”

Seeing the convincing puppy look on his face, she gave in with a sigh and a very loud slurping noise as she lifted her head from the pillow, making Mark huff.

 Meeting with James and Rachel wasn’t the worst thing in the world, because she didn’t see them very often and they were overall nice people. At least, if you didn’t count every time James tried to be the smartass of the group by giving some random fact about anything and everything they came across, or if you ignored the way Rachel was evidently very flirty and touchy with Mark, or if you turned your head away every time the couple made those wretched kissing noises as they shared what should be an intimate moment.

What Mark had with Rachel was something she could never come between, something she also shared with many good friends of her own. They were the type who would always share that bond with you, no matter how long you hadn’t seen each other, and she could only be happy that Mark still had friends like that.

His work as a lawyer didn’t allow for him to make all that many mates, as most try to stab him in the back just to be able to get that promotion they wanted. He’d often come home with his head hung low after days like that, when loneliness took over the pride he had of his usually exhilarating job.

And thus, as she watched Rachel hug him extra tight, she kept her mouth shut. It was for the best, and it was only one afternoon she had to endure.

But she vowed to herself to not let it happen at her wedding. That was her day. Fuck Mark and fuck Rachel. She wasn’t going to be left alone dancing with James, who seemed to be known for having two left feet, by her own husband. But that was something she’d have to worry about in the future.

Her worries now were trying to translate a French menu without asking a waiter, deciding which fork to use, and refraining from telling James to shut up about the painting that hung behind him, of which he was giving an entirely unnecessarily intricate description.

“As you can see, the painter made sure the flag of the boat is standing diagonal to the man in the front, to make the artwork a treat for the eye with this interesting form of composition. It makes the scene all the more dramatic, wouldn’t you agree?”

Mark and Rachel hummed thoughtfully, but both were looking at the painting as if it was some Professor Layton puzzle they had yet to solve.

“What do you think?” James turned to her directly, catching her off guard. James usually wasn’t one to ask others for their opinion, so she could only guess it was an attempt to test her bare knowledge on the subject to make himself look like the smarter one.

“I think you said it all, James,” she decided to answer with, “I’m afraid I haven’t thought about art in that way since my classes in school. As of now, I have more important things to worry about than what the composition in a painting is like.”

It was low of her, she knew that, but someone needed to teach him a lesson.

“Ah,” James said, seemingly unfazed by her subtle insult, “Now that you mention it, how’s your book coming along?”

She sighed. Of course, he was going to play that card. She could’ve seen it coming.

Being a published writer of a few mediocre novels she’d written back in school, she was still in search for her new muse, and things were getting a bit desperate, to say the least. She had absolutely no idea what her next story was going to be about, finding everything in her life to be inexplicably boring and explicitly dull.

Not so much to say she wasn’t happy. No, she liked being with Mark. But she couldn’t say her life was a real adventure with him, or anyone for that matter. They lived in an apartment in the big city, where Mark had his day job and she her comfortable bed. He’d come home and she would’ve cooked – whatever attempt it was each time – and cleaned, and perhaps even written down a page or two only to never look at it again.

“Oh, you know. It’s getting there,” she lied, “Inspiration is lacking a bit these days, unfortunately.”

“I’ve always found inspiration to be a bit of a myth,” James said thoughtfully, “Why is it exactly that one particular thing that’s so inexplicable yet so necessary to create something? It seems a bit… I don’t know, like an excuse for some writers. I’ve heard many talk about it seriously, and many call it pure laziness. But then again, I wouldn’t really know much of the matter.”

There was the comeback.

She smiled tightly. “No, you wouldn’t. I can agree that some writers use it as an excuse to hide their laziness, as I find that a lot of characters write their own stories as soon as you sit down and start typing. However, inspiration is indeed something vague, and could be considered a writer’s virtue or downfall. It’s however you approach the subject, and however you try to deal with it or rationalize it as an artist.”

“You’re right, I shouldn’t have even mentioned it. I wouldn’t know much about it, since I’m only an art consultant, after all.” He threw his hands up degradingly.

Fucker.

“Oh, come on, let’s not be so childish. All of our work is equally as important, as long as we’re happy doing it,” Rachel intervened, before raising her glass, “Here’s a toast to inspiration and art!”

Though she was relieved the argument was over and the attention drawn away from her, she couldn’t help but feel that familiar itch from the downgrading undertone in Rachel’s voice. Call it jealousy if you might, but she wasn’t one to let something like that slip from her mind, however many years may pass.

“So, if I may be so bold to ask,” Rachel continued, and the writer had almost collected her guts to blatantly reply with a ‘no’ when the woman was already speaking again, “What are your plans after the wedding? Are you moving? Already thinking about having kids? No pressure, of course.” She laughed with a pitch so high it nearly shattered the wineglass she was bringing to her lips to pieces.

“Oh, she always gets a bit icky talking about having kids,” Mark chuckled, “But if it were up to her, we’d be moving to some remote village in the outskirts of France, living in a tiny apartment until we grow old and turn to dust.”

She shrugged at her fiancée, “Doesn’t sound all that bad to me.”

“That’s because you came up with it.”

“Don’t you want to be closer to your friends?” Rachel asked, “Why move to the middle of nowhere, when you have everything out here?”

“I don’t know. I guess because of the peace and quiet. A simple life, with the bare necessities.”

“I wouldn’t have protested if it wasn’t for my job,” Mark added, which was a blatant lie. She’d heard him cut off her dream many times over for many different reasons. “Unfortunately, my French isn’t good enough to be a lawyer, and certainly not in the outskirts somewhere.”

“I thought you barely spoke a word of French, anyway?” James asked her.

“I know, but I would learn it there. It would be a part of the adventure.”

He snorted, “I’m sorry darling, but adventure is for children. It’s time to grow out of that. Perhaps you should find something you like in a proper job.”

 She’d prompted to walk back to the hotel, through the rain, as Mark, James and Rachel – mostly Mark – had tried to convince her to share a cab with them. But no way in hell would she spend another unnecessary moment with that couple, and Mark knew better than to follow her out, for she would only be walking too quickly for him, and he would have quietly trailed after her the whole way back.

So, when she finally reached the building, he allowed her to soak in the tub for a few hours before finally approaching her.

“He has a point, you know.”

The look she gave him was an evident warning, yet he still had the guts to continue. “I’m not saying you should stop writing. I know that’s your passion. But, I’m asking you to maybe find something that could come close to that in the meantime, at least until you find something to write about. And perhaps, after we get married-“ he kissed her wrinkly palm, “-we could afford ourselves a nice vacation cot somewhere in the outskirts of France, and we could visit it as often as we’d like.”

She pursed her lips, turning her eyes away from his pensively. “I’m not sure your job would allow that. Your vacation days would be limited, and my desires to go on a holiday always growing.”

He smiled gently. “I’m sure we could work it out after I get that promotion.”

She looked at him, her eyes slightly glossy. “I just don’t want to feel like I’m giving up.”

“You’re not giving up, sweetheart. You’re only taking measures to be able to do the things you like, and when things are going well you can set your priorities straight. It’s the better thing to do.”

Her mind might be relieved to hear this solution, but her gut remained ridden with unease.

 “Mark? Are you coming?” she called out, her hand hovering over the doorknob of their room.

“I’ll be right after you!” she heard him say, “Work is phoning me, you go ahead. I’ll take the next cab.”

“Alright, but don’t be too long!”

 They were supposed to meet with their parents that evening to share the big news, but after hugs were shared and multiple cups of tea were had, Mark still hadn’t shown. She was beginning to grow worried when he didn’t pick up his phone, and even went as far as to step outside to frantically see if the connection was better.

After eight missed calls, she finally reached him.

“Can you believe it?” she heard him slur, “I stepped into the same cab as James! We’re at the pub, you should come join!”

Hearing faint noises of protest from others on the other end of the line, she quickly grew more and more bothered. “Mark, we were supposed to see my parents tonight.”

“Oh, we can see them again tomorrow! I figured you needed some catching up to do.”

“You could’ve joined in on that catching up, as they’ve barely seen you three times over the past four years we’ve been together.”

“Please don’t be like that sweetheart, you know I adore your parents. In fact, I’ll come over right now if that’s what you-“

“No,” she quickly cut him off, not being able to stand the mental sight of her parents having to deal with her drunk fiancée. “You know what, have fun. I’ll stay at my parents’ for the night.”

“Sounds like fun! Call me-“

She’d hung up the phone before he could finish his sentence, and had dropped to her knees as she felt her bottom lip tremble. Not wanting to alert the neighbours, she quickly forced her numb legs to work again and strode in the direction of town, a walking route she usually took whenever she was upset when she was young. She sent a quick text to her mum, telling her she’d meet again with them tomorrow and explain what happened. She really couldn’t be bothered right now.

Tears streamed down her face at the thought that her feet were so unwilling to go back to face her parents, who she’d have to disappoint yet again with a disappearing soon-to-be son-in-law. It wasn’t that she couldn’t tell her parents about her problems, it was the thought of disappointing them once again with a mistake she was making.

A horrible, horrible mistake.

She was no longer aware of which way she’d gone, as all shops around her seemed unfamiliar, yet she could’ve sworn she hadn’t messed up any turns in her route.

Wherever she was though, was a beautifully quaint, with antique streetlights and a cobbled road. Shop windows held curtains made from white lace, and showed off vintage clothes and items for a real bargain.

Must be one of those vintage sales, she figured, as her eyes grazed along cars with brands that were so old she couldn’t remember the names of them. Stores like these must attract the more interesting people with vehicles like those.

It was when she saw a polished and brand-new-looking typewriter in one of the windows, she paused. Above it, she saw her own reflection; a puffy reddened face stained with an ongoing array of tears.

“I really hope you’re not crying because you want that typewriter so awfully bad,” a voice spoke.

She whipped around, coming face to face with a man who was giving her a kind look. His eyes were hazel, matching the brown suit he wore, and his head shaved to a buzzcut. He had sharp features, and still looked awfully British.

“I- Uh… No, I’m not,” she stuttered, trying to wipe the waterworks away with her sleeve.

The man then held out a folded cotton handkerchief to her, along with a smile as an attempt to cheer her up. She gratefully accepted both.

“Not any bloke I’d need to beat up, is there?”

She laughed blubberingly, “I don’t think that would be the solution to my problems, but thank you.”

“Thank god,” he huffed, “Because to be quite honest, I can’t throw a punch for the life of me. I would’ve had to ask one of my mates to do it for me, and cheer him on as he’d won my own fight.”

“I don’t think that would count as your fight,” she chuckled.

“Defending a lady’s honour is always my fight,” he replied. He shook his head, “Apologies for the rudeness, miss. Haven’t even properly introduced myself. I’m Miles.”

She gave him her own name, “and it’s nice to meet you, Miles. May I ask what you’re doing about this late?”

He gave her a strange look, “Why, it’s the perfect hour, why wouldn’t I be about? The night has only just started, and one of my close mates is preforming in the pub nearby. Want to join?”

She only took a moment to hesitate, before wilfully agreeing. “Sure.”

[kingsuckjin]

The Enigma of Bunny | Pt.8

Pairing: Jungkook, Yoongi, Jin, Jimin, Taehyung x reader ft. Namjoon and Hobi

Warnings: It's just sad, man.

Genre: angst city

Prev // next

➡My Masterlist

I love you

To hear it, for it to be spoken out loud finally by one of you was jarring. You felt like your heart and head had both stopped for a moment. You hadn't expected to hear the words.

You tried to collect your thoughts as you realized you had to say something. He was on his side, facing you, watching you, waiting.

"I know. I know I shouldn't say that, but it's the truth." He probably thought you wouldn't answer, But it was the truth for you too. You knew you loved him too, actually, you couldn't think of a single thing about him you didn't love.

Yoongi's words ran through your head and you knew you'd regret it if you weren't truthful with him too, even if he might not be here tomorrow.

"I love you too." You closed your eyes as you pressed your forehead to his to breathe in his scent, the smell no one else had, not even you despite him using your soap and shampoo. "So much."

He moved his head back to look deep in your eyes and push the hair from your face.

"Why are you making me leave when I can't imagine feeling this way about anyone else?"

Your breath hitched at his words, the feeling of his hand now trailing down your bare skin from your shoulder to your hip as you looked him in the eye in the dark room.

"You don't know that, you don't remember. It's not fair to her. Just go and figure it out, try to remember, find who you were, and if you don't feel the same as you did about her or you just can't remember then come back." You thought that would be the best way to do this.

"If that's what you want, I will. But I hope you know I'll miss you and I won't stop thinking about you for however long I'm away. I'm not going to be able to stand it." He said the last part with a smile making you smile too."Tell me about your parents, your life before all of this and when I come back, maybe I'll be able to tell you about mine." He asked of you so you told him all about it and your favorite memories as a child, you laid there and told him your whole life's story and he just listened. You even explained the whole Jin thing to him and he called him stupid.

As he listened, his hands drifted along your body as yours did his. It felt impossible not to touch him and not to crave his touch as well.

You talked to him until you drifted off to sleep in his arms, raw flesh to raw comforting flesh

There was a point when you realized his arms were no longer around you as you slept, you went to reach for him but felt nothing but the cool sheets.

You opened your eyes to see daylight in the room, and him not laying next to you.

You panicked.

"Bunny?" You called through the house only to hear no reply.

You jumped up out of the bed so fast you nearly fell, dragging your blankets accidentally off the bed and you began your search.

You knew he was gone, but you didn't want to believe it. You had told him to go but didn't want to believe he really would, but of course he would, because you said to.

You went back to your room and opened his drawers to see all of his things still in the dresser but there were two pieces of folded up paper on top beside his art supplies.

You opened the one that was marked "noona" first.

"Y/n.

Please don't be sad. I understand that you just wanted to do the right thing. You wanted me to see if I loved her and you wanted me to find out who I was, but I promise you I'll be back soon. It hurts to leave, it's scary, I hate it, but it’s okay, we'll both be okay until I'm home again. I only say I'll be back because I know there's no way I could love someone as much as you, find someone as giving and caring as you. Just hold tight for me for the next few days and I'll come home to you. -love,

Your Bunny"

You had already been crying before the note and now it was only worse. You tried to compose yourself and open the second folded paper.

It was that drawing of you but now colored in. It was beautiful. Was this really how he saw you? In all this color and perfection and beauty?

There was a knock at your door and you dashed over to it to answer thinking it was him back already.

But it was Yoongi.

"You found the note, didn't you?" He asked as he stepped in and looked at the tears falling down your face with a rather solemn look on his face as well.

"How did you know?"

"About the note? He told me earlier this morning when he asked me to come over in a bit and check up on you."

"What? This morning?" You were confused. Have you slept through him just doing all of this? Through him leaving? Why wouldn't he have at least woken you up to say goodbye?

"He said you were asleep and he came over to my place, we had a cup of coffee. I told a bit about what I had said to you yesterday and everything. Look, you shouldn't be crying he'll be back soon, alright? He is doing this for you after all."

You started crying harder. If you hadn't told him to go he wouldn't be gone.

Yoongi sighed before taking a step forward and hugging you.

"You're so dumb telling him to go when you didn't want him to."

"I know." You sniffled.

~~~~~~~~

Over the next couple of days you missed him so much. You always expected him to be sitting on the sofa drawing or calling for you throughout the house.

You had to cancel your plans with Jimin and felt bad about it but you didn't really feel like being around anyone right now. Yoongi forced his way through your isolation to try to keep you from being utterly lonely whether you liked it or not, but you were grateful for it at the end of the day.

Days turned into weeks and finally it had just passed the month mark of him being gone. There was no contact from Jungkook whatsoever.

You had felt a bit angry. He had lied to you. You felt jealous he was probably off living his life after remembering how much he loved his girlfriend.

"Just wait a little longer, don't give up and get upset yet." Yoongi had reminded you over the past month, but it seemed he was beginning to lose faith too.

Around the month mark, you had a bit of a break down.

That morning you had pulled open your dresser drawer looking for a pair of socks, but opened the wrong one, it was his.

You saw all of his mostly monochrome clothes all folded in his special way he always did it. It felt like your heart was being torn from your chest as your eyes automatically brimmed with tears.

You tried to tell yourself not to, but you grabbed for one of his shirts.

It still smelled just like him.

You broke down and sobbed into the now unfolded shirt, but it didn't make you feel any closer to him, it didn't make you feel like he did when he wrapped his arms around you. It just made you feel empty as the scent pulled the memories of him from your mind that would not shut off.

You felt like you were crying your soul out for the first time in your life.

You decided to pack up his things because they simply just hurt to stumble upon like this. When he came back you could just...

You needed to get a grip and you knew it, it had been a month. He wasn't coming back.

You continued to let the warm tears fall down your cheeks as you stored his box of things away in your room with the note on top.

Then you called and cried to Yoongi for a while, you noticed that this time he didn't constantly reassure you he would be back.

Finally while you two were sitting at your apartment one night, he decided to speak about it, he rarely did anymore seeing as it upset you every time and you just refused to talk about it now.

"I've noticed how lonely you've been and it's... it's not fun to watch. It's not fun to watch you lock yourself in this apartment and throw yourself back into work or hear you bawling through the walls. You need to go out, you need to have fun, you need to... you need to see other people. Maybe you can try to replace him or something." You could tell he was apprehensive about telling you, but he's always been real with you, he never lied to you. You still didn't want to talk about it or what a mess you obviously still currently were.

"Fine, let's go somewhere or something." You grumbled agreeing just to satisfy him because you knew he'd press you to do it more if you didn't.

"That's not what I mean. I'm not stupid you know. You should go do something with someone you actually have a thing for, like Jimin. Someone you're attracted to."

"I don't think I'm attracted to anyone anymore." Maybe you were just being dramatic but that's what it felt like, Jungkook had taken all your love with him upon leaving.

"Oh so one guy is going to just ruin guys for you forever, huh? You have to try and let yourself be attracted to them and not compare other men to Jungkook. Just try, please." He nearly begged you with a sad look in his eyes.

"I-I guess. I don't know about Jimin though. You guys don't like him and-"

"What matters is if you do." He cut you off.

"I'll try, but I've never had much luck before." You had no hope, you hadn't before anyway. The loneliness was back as it had been before all of this, but now you couldn't pretend it wasn't there like you did before you found Jungkook.

"Also, get some damn groceries. I checked your refrigerator earlier for something to drink and all you have in there is two eggs. Get it together." His words were harsh but you knew he was right, you really did need to get it together but it would be hard but you knew you couldn't go on like this.

------

"You're back out of your cave!" Jimin chuckled and just happened to walk out of his door to check his mail at the same time you were leaving to go to the store.

"Yeah, been busy." Your reply made him pout.

"Really though?" He he tilted his head a bit "look, I know Yoongi doesn't like me much and maybe he's been saying things to deter you from dating me, but I think that's only because he's jealous."

"Jealous?" You remembered Yoongi mentioning Jimin being jealous months ago.

"Because he thinks you like me. You like me right?" Jimin asked innocently, but the question to you was huge.

"I-I don't know. I've got to go, I'll text you later, okay?" You felt kind of uncomfortable and didn't really want to answer, you weren't really in the mood to answer something like that anyway.

"But you never do." He sighed sadly making you feel bad again.

"Then just call me tonight." You decided. "I'll answer, I like your voice anyway." You gave him a wink that you hadn't expected out of yourself and from the looks of it, neither did he, but he looked thrilled about it.

"I don't have time to talk right now though, but make sure you call me later. Now I'll be waiting on you instead of you waiting on me."

"Are- are you sure I wouldn't be bothering you? What time?" He seemed surprised.

"Not at all. Is eight alright? That way I can have my shower for the night first."

"Yeah! Yeah, I will, I'll call at eight." He beamed with his eyes crinkling with his smile. He seemed happier and it made you feel better about canceling all of those plans and never texting him. "I'll talk to you later then!"

You walked to the store but realized once you got there the reason why you never went anymore. You stood there mindlessly holding Jungkook's favorite chips in your hand.

Something as silly as chips nearly made you tear up in a grocery store because of that stupid boy. You became angry again as you put them back.

You got what you needed before walking out and colliding head first into someone's firm chest.

"Oh. Careful there y/n." You looked up to see none other than Seokjin's smiling face. "Now we're literally running into each other everywhere."

You couldn't help but laugh at his dumb joke and so did he, that same peculiar yet oddly endearing laugh and same dumb kinds of jokes you remembered from college.

"Heading home?" He asked and you nodded. "That's a lot to be carrying home by yourself. I was just running in for juice, but it can wait. Let me take you home so you don't have to carry all of that."

"That's okay, I live close it's just a short walk-"

"No no, I insist. Unless you think your boyfriend would be bothered by it?" Your heart wrenched in your chest.

"No- uh- he wouldn't- he's- its fine with- uh-"

"Alright, then it's settled." Jin chuckled at your stuttering and led you to his very nice car and helped you with his things.

"So, where is he right now where he can't be helping you, work?"

You stalled the and thought about how you could answer that as you buckled in.

"Um, no." You lowered your head. "He uh... he left... me. He left me."

"Oh." Jin blinked and looked like he didn't know what to say for a moment "oh no, I'm so sorry. I really am. I didn't mean to bring it up and-" he seemed so sincere about it.

"Ah no, it's alright."

It really wasn't, but you couldn't admit that, not even to yourself.

"I really am sorry. You guys seemed so cute together when I saw you, he was a little threatening for his size, kind of a pretty boy type so I'm sure you weren't shallow enough for him anyway."

Something about Jin's shit talking Jungkook made you feel a little better mostly because of how angry and hurt you felt.

"You're probably right." You admitted. Jungkook had been a trainee, his girlfriend was probably gorgeous and that's probably why he never came back, this thought haunted you a lot, the thought of him finding out he was too attractive for you.

"I use to be like that, I'm sure you remember the days. I'd sleep with whatever dumb, pretty girl threw herself my way until I found out the hard way girls like that just... well they just use people. I use to use people too because I thought I was attractive, you for instance, I treated you horribly. It was never because I thought I was better than you though, quite the opposite actually. You were too smart and kind, and you had morals and you were just too good for me. I've learned though that intelligence and kindness and morality is far more valuable than anything else in a woman. So I apologize for all of that back then, you deserved better."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Was he actually acknowledging and apologizing for college and admitting he was wrong?

"It's alright." Your voice squeaked out.

"It's really not. It seems like that's the way you've always been treated, by me, by your last boyfriend. Always leaving you for someone else. Honesty I only dated that Soomin girl because she reminded me of you, and apparently our finance professor thought so too." He let out a small chuckle but you were confused.

"But you called me Soomin when-"

"That was a joke. You don't remember that joke? I obviously know your name y/n" he laughed and shook his head "the finance class we shared that you got me get through, the professor, he called you Soomin all the time because she looked so much like you but she was not the brightest. You'd never even correct him either."

"Ohh." You said as you now remembered. You realized you were just as much a pushover back then as you are now.

"Thank you for getting me through that class by the way, I'd never own a successful restaurant if it weren't for you."

Now you remembered that he used to love cooking, he would cook for you all the time when you guys did hang out.

"You know what? I should take you out to it. I mean it's the least I could do to repay you for how much you've done for me, it's time I do something for you."

"Actually" you said "I'd really like that." You decided.

"I just realized." He broke into laughter "that I don't even know where I'm going."

You realized this now too. You had been so caught up in conversation that you hadn't even noticed his aimless driving.

When he finally did get you home, he insisted on helped you carry your things up to your apartment and you exchanged numbers.

Today had been strange, almost mirroring the day you had met Jungkook. You wonder if this is how your day would've gone if you hadn't met him that day.

Maybe it would've went right and you wouldn't still be stuck with heartache.

Tags: if you want to be tagged in my story to receive notifications each time a new part goes up, let me know.

@rikkafunthepureone @illnevertrustmyselfagain @sam-moss @minyoongi-infiresme @appreciatethefoolishness @sugajinny @loserjeonjk @im-emo-motherfuckers @savanna-1 @bulletproof-points @ddaengyoonmin @sugasheart @io-is-lame @adelina1299 @hyungwonopex @jeonsclit @dinorahrodriguez @aaaaamnaaa @wildbeest55 @youraveragealto @jiminsarea @weebasaurusrex @amudot @onwlytae @rhayad @m1lktae @arcofpiper @goldengguky @ilvebeenabad @liviaolivia @vampire-jimin @treatpeoplewithkindnesshoe @monsterwoosboo @obeythehemmings @jimintaelove

[angelic-holland]

Stay At My Place // th x fem!reader

Miss Yer Kiss Part Two

Feel free to read Miss Yer Kiss! Feel free to leave comments or asks with feedback! 

Warnings: smut, feelings, actual plot this time, nsfw, 18+ please

Word Count: 12k

Tom checked Instagram the next day, including your page. He was laying in his bed when he clicked your story. He gasped when he saw what was a spitting image of himself in pencil. He took a screenshot of it and almost posted it to his story but decided not to.

He remembered what you told him.

“Let’s agree on one thing. This is a one night stand, that’s it.”

He didn’t want it to be a one night stand. He’s had his share of one night stands, sure. But there was something different about you. Maybe it was your confidence, maybe it was the way you didn’t even care enough to leave your phone number. Maybe it was your tattoos and how he wanted to hear the story behind each and every one of them.

He decided to wait, see if you would DM him since you set out the “only a one night stand” pact.  

He heard his doorbell ring and he got out of bed, he checked his phone, who was at his place at 10:30 at night?

He jogged down the stairs, opening the door.

“Hey mate,” Harry says, pushing his way inside.

“What’s up? Were you planning on coming over?”

“Nah last minute decision,” Harry says, walking up the stairs, Tom following.

“Okay, what’s up?”

“Is she still here?”

“Who?”

“The girl you left the club with last night.”

“No she’s gone,” Tom frowns.

Harry flops down on the sofa, “oh good.”

“Why?”

“You’ve never been caught mid hook up before, by the paps I mean, mom almost had a fucking heart attack when she saw the pictures of you leaving the restroom of the club.”

“Wait why?”

“Cause she doesn’t know about your other hookups, she also wasn’t expecting pictures of her son with lipstick marks and sex hair leaving a fucking club bathroom.”

“We didn’t fuck in there.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“Not like, not full sex, fuck off it doesn’t matter.”

“Sure, like the stories of people hearing her scream your name aren’t important.”

“Harry! Can it, not like it matters now.”

“Yeah? Do you even remember her name?”

“Course I do, it’s Y/N.”

He smiles, remembering how you made him work for it.

“Stop thinking about it you perv,” Harry says, tossing a pillow at Tom as he sits down.

“Shut up, she only wanted a one night stand so I’m gonna respect that.”

“Sure.”

“What?”

“You always catch up with them after the ‘one night stand’ and see if they want to go on a date, hook up again. It’s your thing.”

“My thing?” Tom scoffs, crossing his arms.

“Yeah.”

“Well whatever if she wants to talk to me she can DM me on Instagram or something.”

“No she can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you get legit thousands of DMs a day, probably more, you wouldn’t be able to see it.”

“I could search for it? Would that work?”

“Maybe.”

***

You’re lying in bed, suitcase packed for the flight you’ve got early tomorrow. You sigh, pulling out your phone. You know what you said. You know you should just forget about the possibility of seeing Tom again. Of interacting with him again. But you couldn’t get that night out of your head.

“It’s beautiful out,” you say, exhaling the smoke from your lungs.

“Not as-,”

“I swear if you finish that sentence I’ll leave right now,” you groan.

“Okay! I won’t, just, you look so pretty, the moon really lights up your tattoos, they look good.”

Any of your hook ups, you weren’t used to them complimenting you if that compliment wasn’t about loving your tits or something stupid. They never called you beautiful, like Tom was about to. Or pretty. You opened your Instagram, you decided the other day to post the picture you drew of Tom, even going so far as to tag him. Your eyes almost fell out of your head when you saw he liked the post.

Maybe, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to send him a message, he’d have a hard time finding it anyways with the probably hundreds of thousands of messages he gets.

You quickly send him a DM.

yourinstagramhandle: thanks for the like, you like the drawing?

You roll your eyes and send a text to Bryce, asking if he wants to go to your graduation.

You go back to Instagram and see you’ve got a DM from none other than Tom.

What the fuck.

***

“wait! She DMed me, holy shit,” Tom says, opening it.

He smiles and responds.

tomholland2013: thought it was okay

tomholland2013: I’m kidding I thought it was great

Yourinstagramhandle: well thanks

Tomholland2013: didn’t think I’d hear from you again

Yourinstagramhandle: almost didn’t DM you but decided I need validation

Tomholland2013: the sex or the drawing?

Yourinstagramhandle: you caught me… both

tomholland2013: well the sex was so good I want to see you again so there’s that. And the portrait is so good I want you to tattoo it on me

Yourinstagramhandle: well damn I’ll take it. Not a tattoo artist yet though, and getting a portrait of yourself tattooed, little self centered don’t you think?

Tomholland2013: just a tad bit.

Tomholland2013: are you still in town?

Yourinstagramhandle: leaving bright and early tomorrow for NYC

Tomholland2013: come over

Yourinstagramhandle: I can’t, I’ll be too busy giving you the time of your life I’ll miss my flight

Tomholland2013: that’s not necessarily a bad thing

Yourinstagramhandle: it is when I’ve got school, finals in two weeks and then I need to beg for a tattoo apprenticeship

Tomholland2013: they’ll be begging you to be their apprentice

Yourinstagramhandle: totally not how it works

Tomholland2013: I fly by New York end of May, can I see you then?

Yourinstagramhandle: sure you won’t have forgotten about me by then?

Tomholland2013: no, already miss your sex, don’t know how I’m gonna go two months without it

Yourinstagramhandle: we could always be horny teenagers and sext. Wanna see my tits?

Tomholland2013: right now?

Yourinstagramhandle: no in two months, yes right now

Tomholland2013: fuck yeah

Tomholland2013: wait send me ur phone number I don’t wanna accidentally save them and have them end up on my Instagram story or something

Yourinstagramhandle: not very good with technology?

Tomholland2013: nope

***

You giggle, pulling off your shirt, you weren’t wearing a bra, so you just waited for him to text you.

Unknown number: Y/N?

You: the one and only

Tom: great now show me your tits

You: I better get a picture of your hard cock immediately following

Tom: my brothers here!

You: kick him out or go to your room, my tits look pretty great right now

Tom: please send them, told him to get lost

You: where are you right now?

Tom: couch

You: take your cock out, play with it a little bit

You position yourself in front of the mirror, pinching your nipples a little so they harden before taking a picture and sending it to him.

Tom: holy fuck, missed ur tits so much

You: I’m waiting

You quickly strip your sweatpants and now soaked panties, laying back on the bed.

You groan at the picture he sends, his hard cock in his hand, thighs spread on his couch.

Tom: can I call u

You: Patience baby, one step at a time. Let’s just sext for now

You can practically hear his whine but you wouldn’t answer his call even if he did. You loved teasing him.

Tom: fuck, send me a picture of your pussy

You: why should I?

Tom: please, know you’re probably dripping for me, come on, lemme see it

You smirk, your fingers moving to lazily move through your folds, gently slipping into your hole, you take a few pics, choosing the best one to send to Tom.

Tom: holy fuck, you sure I can’t come over? Wanna eat your pussy so good

Although you’d love that, you knew it wasn’t possible. You sighed, responding to him as your thumb gently rubbed your clit.

You: positive, now be a good boy and jerk your cock for me until you make a mess

You smile, putting your phone down and fucking yourself down on your fingers.

****

“Shit,” Tom groaned, reading your text before his hand sped up. He closed his eyes, pretending it was your hand, pretending you were there with him.

He came embarrassingly quickly with a whimper of your name.

You: and I expect a picture of the mess

He groans, sending a picture of his stomach painted with his come and his softening cock, sending it to you.

You: beautiful

You send him a video a few minutes later.

He cleans his stomach off with a T-shirt before clicking play, feeling his cock twitch as it starts with you whimpering his name.

“Tommy,” you say, the camera angle showing your fingers fucking in and out of your pussy, making the most delicious sound. Your fingers speed up, thumb rubbing your clit as the only noise he hears is his name and the sound of your fingers fucking in and out of you.

You come with a grunt of his name, and he thinks the video is going to cut off but you trail your fingers from your clit up your body, stopping to make gentle circles around your nipples before sucking them into your mouth. He groans as the video stops, right as you moan around your fingers.

Tom: you’ll send me that and not let me come over?

You: gotta keep ya on your toes

Tom: trust me I most certainly am

He sighs, grimacing as he picks up his sticky shirt, tucking his cock back into his shorts.

Tom: we need to do this again

You: I fully intend on it

***

You make it to your flight, Lily talking nonstop the entire trip back to New York about Tom, about if you’re going to meet up with him. How good he was in bed.

“Listen, Lily, I love you, but give it a rest. I’m sure the rest of the people on the plane don’t want to hear about it. I’ll tell you more when we get back to our place. Sound good? Also, you’re gay, you shouldn’t care about this.”

You roll your eyes as she grumbles, turning on a movie as you try to sleep.

When you arrive at your apartment, all you want to do is collapse on your bed and sleep for days. You only have one before you have to be back at work and school, however.

This next week was hectic, you had to finish your final for your portrait class, then you had to finish your oil painting final. The only final you would have to sit for was Art History IV.

You saw a text from Tom that you decided to open.

Tom: hope your flight was nice, good luck with finals

Jesus, you needed a smoke. You begrudgingly got up, grabbing your pack and lighter from your bedside table you pushed open the balcony door, taking your phone with you.

You: thanks, can’t believe I graduate so soon, been a whirlwind

Tom: what’s ur address

You: what

You light your cigarette, waiting for his reply.

Tom: wanna send you a graduation gift

You: like what

Tom: just something

Tom: on a completely different note what size bra and panties do you wear

You: I like the way you think.

You send him all the information he asked for, finishing your cigarette and lighting up another one. It was a bad habit of yours, you were well aware, but you started smoking with your ex when you first started college and you were, like most people who smoke, addicted. You planned to stop eventually, they drained money from your account and you’d need to start saving more for a chair at a tattoo shop anyways.

Tom: What are you up to now?

You: having a smoke then going to take a nap

Tom: oh

You: what?

Tom: just was gonna say we can call or video chat if you wanted to

You: although the idea of getting off together over the phone sounds amazing baby, I needa take a nap

Tom: after?

You: I’d want nothing more

You finish your other cigarette before going back inside, flopping down on your bed and closing your eyes.

You wake up to Lily shaking you awake, “Y/N, it’s been like so long you should get up.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s Sunday, like 2pm.”

“Oh shit,” you say, getting up.

You check your phone, a few missed calls from Tom, one text from Bryce asking if you wanted to work tonight around 6. The shop was closed but there was going to be a small cleaning day according to him.

You quickly text Bryce back, telling him you’ll be there. You send a message to Tom as well, unsure of what time it was over there.

You: sorry I totally suck but I’ll make it up to you. I’m going into work into work at 6pm my time, call me before then.

You lock your door, quickly shutting the door and curtains that lead to your balcony.

You jump back into bed and see your phone buzz, Tom. You quickly pick up.

“Thought you were gonna ghost me,” he laughs.

“Nah, like your dick too much.”

“Y/N, don’t say things like that.”

“Why?”

“Cause.”

“Oh, are you hard right now?”

“Maybe.”

“Are you free?”

“Course.”

“Good, are you naked?”

You hear him suck in a deep breath, “not yet.”

“Okay so get naked.”

“Are you?”

“I’m about to be baby, like I said, gotta work on your patience.”

It’s silent other than the sound of both of you taking your clothes off. You put the phone on speaker and lay it down next to you.

“You naked?” He asks, panting.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Yes?”

“Did I say you could?” You grin, hearing him swear.

“What’s this game we’re playing Y/N?”

“Just listen to my instructions baby, gonna make you feel so good.”

“Fine,” you hear him grumble.

“You don’t haveta, you can hang up and get yourself off if you wanna.”

“No, no, okay I’m not touching myself, what do you want?”

“Want you to tease yourself, lick your palm, rub it down your chest, don’t touch your cock yet.”

He swears but does what you say, waiting patiently for your next instruction.

“Good, go ahead, wrap your hand around your cock, but don’t move, just feel the weight of yourself in your palm, feel good? Wish it was me, my hand wrapped around you?” You ask, letting your fingers pinch your nipples.

“Fuck, wish it was something else.”

“Yeah? What do you wish it was?” You ask, biting your lip, knowing exactly what he’s going to say.

“You’re, fuck, can I move my hand? Please?” You hear him whine.

“What do you wish it was Tom?”

“Your lips, wish your lips were wrapped around me right now.”

“Wish I was there right now, wish I could suck you off, maybe if you were being good I’d let you fuck my mouth, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck, yes, wanna fuck your mouth so bad.”

You loved how worked up he got just from being told what to do. You hand slipped down to your pussy, slipping a finger into your wet heat as you gave him his next instruction.

“Go ahead baby, jerk your cock for me.”

“Fuck, Y/N,” he grunts and you can hear him start to move, his bed moving beneath him.

“Feel good? Wish it was my pussy wrapped around your cock?” You ask, slipping another finger into yourself, moaning.

“Are you, you touching yourself too?”

“Course, not nearly as good as you touching me,” you groan, thumb rubbing your clit.

“Wish, fuck, wish I could see you right now.”

“Tom, feels so good, wish these were your fingers fucking into me, wish you were getting me off,” you whine, fingers speeding up.

“Yeah? Wish I could eat that pretty pussy of yours, make you come undone over and over again on my tongue,” he groans your name several times.

“Gonna come? You wanna come for me baby?”

“Yes, fuck, don’t stop please, wanna come, can I come?” he grunts and you grin. You were surprised he was asking permission and you let out a throaty groan as his moans get higher and higher pitched.

“Yes, come on baby, come all over yourself for me, take a picture when you’re done, wanna see how much of a mess you made for me.”

“Fuck, y/n, I’m coming, fuck,” he whimpers your name a few times and that’s all it takes for you to come undone.

“Shit,” you laugh, fingers slipping out from you.

“Yeah?”

“That was fun,” you giggle, before wiping your fingers off on your sheets.

“Agreed.”

You hear your phone buzz and you check it.

Another picture, this time Tom’s face was included. He was biting his lip, hand not holding the phone was in his hair, your eyes wandered down to his chest, red and sweaty, his stomach covered in his come, cock softening against his hip.

“Look so pretty baby,” you say, taking off your phone speaker.

“Thank you,” he laughs.

“Okay I gotta go get ready for work, talk to you later?”

“Great plan.”

“Bye.”

“You know your phone was on speaker right?” You hear Lily shout and you laugh so hard you’re almost in tears.

“Sorry!”

“Well at least I know what he’s like in bed now.”

***

You arrive at Tattoo Dice and the doors are locked, lights off. Maybe you were the first to get there, your apartment being so close, so you unlocked the door with your copy of the store key.

“SURPRISE!” A chorus of people shout and you’re bombarded by every tattooer, piercer, and front desk assistant holding balloons and streamers and those little things that pop, you couldn’t remember the name.

“Holy shit what’s this for?” You ask, confused.

“Your graduation,” Bryce says, stepping out from the crowd, “we couldn’t find a time when everyone was free after your graduation so now is close enough.”

“Yeah? Wow thank you,” you laugh as he guides you to the sofa in the waiting area, where a cake was waiting.

“What?” You ask, reading it.

“What’s it say?”

“Happy graduation and apprenticeship.”

You look between Bryce and the cake, “you fucking didn’t.”

“I did. I’ve never seen such talent and skill, you’ve been here for 4 years, you’re going to have to start looking for an apprenticeship when you graduate, I don’t want my competition swooping in and stealing you.”

You felt tears in your eyes, this never happened.

“Of course, you’ll have to put in the work and the effort, and pay for your chair but I have no doubt in my mind you can do that.”

“Thank you Bryce. Really,” you say, hugging him.

“Alright, no more crying, it’s cake time.”

***

You were anxiously awaiting the grade for your portrait. It took like every waking moment, the theme was “two sides of every story”. You knew exactly what to do.

You had called Tom after your party, shocked he was still awake.

“So, my portrait final, I was wondering if one of your buddies could take a photo of you sitting on a stool, like positioned in a corner, so your shadow is still in the shot.”

“Want me naked?”

You roll your eyes, “no, it’s, the theme is two sides of every story, so I want to draw you, maybe as Peter Parker, then your shadow will be Spiderman.”

“Holy fuck that’s awesome.”

“Yeah, do you think you could do it tomorrow morning? So the light hits you just right?”

“Course.”

“Thank you Tom,” you sigh, laying down.

“No problem. Keep your eye out for your mail.”

“Huh?”

“Your present.”

“Oh you know you don’t haveta get me anything. Don’t even know if anyone is going to my graduation,” you laugh.

“Wait what?”

“Nothing.”

“Nobody’s going to your graduation?”

“It’s, I mean, Bryce is going to try, not like I have anyone else.”

Shit fuck, fuck. You didn’t need to share personal shit with him.

“What about, you don’t haveta, I don’t know if this is a touchy subject for you, if you don’t wanna talk about it you don’t have to.”

“Why nobody’s going to my graduation?”

“Yeah.”

“See how easy it was? Anyways, don’t know who my dad is, mom left me on a police station’s doorstep when I was three like I was a newborn baby and it was the 1950s.”

“She did What now?”

“She had really bad postpartum depression, couldn’t handle having a kid I guess, left me on the police doorstep and I bounced around different foster homes. Never stayed in one place for more than a year.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What’re you sorry for?”

“For all that, for how you hadta grow up.”

“It was fine really, Art was what kept me going, it was the only thing I really had from home to home, only school subject I was able to do well in since it didn’t require previous knowledge.”

“Well I’m glad you got something good out of everything that happened.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, closing your eyes.

“When is it again?”

“When’s what?”

“Your graduation.”

“Oh, April 15th.”

“Okay.”

“Anyways, guess what?”

“What?” You can hear he’s more distant now, probably wants to ask why you don’t have anyone going to your graduation, he doesn’t want to know the answer.

“Bryce offered me an apprenticeship.”

“Really? That’s amazing!”

“Yeah, I’ve got just enough saved up to pay for my equipment and chair for the first few months, when I’m tattooing for free, then eventually I’ll get paid, might haveta take out a loan for my apartment or move somewhere cheaper but since I won’t be spending money for the subway to get to school it’ll cut my expenses. Jesus why am I rambling sorry you don’t wanna hear all this.”

“No I do, I do,” He says and you can hear some enthusiasm in his voice.

“It’s late you should go to bed.”

“Maybe we can talk in the morning?”

“I’d like that,” you smile, “goodnight Tom.”

“Night princess.”

You giggle as you hang up, running a hand over your face. You were fucking exhausted. The next morning you woke up to a picture message from Tom.

Holy shit, the picture was perfect, just what you needed.

You: this is legit amazing how’d you make it look so good?

Tom: brother is like an amateur photographer

You: nothing amateur about this. Thanks no I get to stare at your picture for the next 50 hours.

Tom: 50???

You: more or less, for the portrait, then the oil painting, now go away I’m meant to work

Your portrait professor said you could go into the studio to draw, since it was a full color design, but if you wanted to do it in the comfort of your own home you could. You opted to take your work to the tattoo studio, sprawling out in the back office.

“You’ve got it bad dontcha?” Bryce asks, seeing your initial outline of the sketch.

“What?”

“This kid in the drawing, it’s the same one you drew the other day. You sleep with him?”

“None of your business,” you say, “scram I gotta finish this outline.”

“It’s almost done, you’ve been working for 6 hours, you need a break.”

“Fine, wanna grab some coffee?”

“Let’s go kiddo,” Bryce says, helping you off the ground.

Bryce takes you to the coffee shop next door. You know you’re going to have to tell him about Tom.

Most of the time he acted like your fun uncle, wanted to know what you were up to but wouldn’t give you any advice or warnings. Recently he’d been more of a wise father, which you had no problem with, never having one of your own to rely on.

“So, he’s famous right? Does movies? How’d that happen?” He asks as you sit in a booth.

“Met him at a club in London.”

“And you…”

“Yes, we did, thought it was just gonna be, you know, that, but we’ve been talking.”

“Have you seen him since?”

“No, think he’s gonna visit on his way to a press thing.”

“So are you two dating? Messing around? What do kids these days call it?”

You shrug, taking a sip of your coffee, “I don’t know. Like, it would be cool to date him, but at the same time I like what we’ve got now. He’s all over the place all the time, lives in London, while I’m here, how’d that work?”

“Think you could find a way to make it work, if it’s worth it.”

“Well, dunno if it’s worth it.”

“You’re doing your final project on him, I think it’s worth it.”

You shrug, “Yeah.”

“So maybe you should see how he feels?”

“Too soon for that.”

“Whatever you want, I’ll be by your side whatever you chose. Alright let’s get back I’ve got a tattoo to do and you’ve got shading and colors to start.”

“Then I’m working at 6.”

“Yep, got 5 more hours of work to do, let’s get to it lady.”

***

By the time your shift started you had almost finished your outline in black and erased the pencil underneath it.

You were happy with how it looked, sending a photo to Tom. Tomorrow you had to go into school for your art history class, only two more lessons left.

Tom: holy shit looks amazing, and now you have to color it?

You: Yep, most of the time will be color, then my oil painting

Tom: What will be your oil painting?

You: was gonna make an oil painting of the Spiderman mask but I don’t want you to think I’m obsessed with you or something

Tom: I wouldn’t mind, your art blows my mind

Tom: also I’m kinda obsessed with you too

You: good

You smirk at his texts, locking up for the night at 11:30, saying goodnight to Bryce who made his way upstairs to his apartment. 

“See you tomorrow,” you wave, sending him one more.

The next day is filled with rushing to class, your professor telling you that the final class period was optional, knowing you all had plenty of work to do for other classes. You almost cheered.

When class wrapped up you made your way to the studio, working a mid to close shift, you weren’t going to have much time to work on your portrait.

You were able to use your colored pencils to get the color of his shirt, a blue button up, and his khaki pants done. You wanted to save the details of the Spiderman suit and his face for when you had more time.

By the time 1pm rolled around you were satisfied with how much work you had left and the time you had to do it.

You spent the rest of the day greeting customers, helping them pick out jewelry, copying their consent forms. You had fun as the front desk assistant and would no doubt do it for as long as they wanted you, but you were dying to have a turn with the tattoo machine.

The phone rings, and you answer.

“Hello, Tattoo Dice by Bryce, this is Y/N, how can I help you today?” You ask, pen and paper in hand.

“Hello, is Bryce in?” A low voice asks.

“He is, doing some paperwork in his office. Can I help you?”

“Was hoping to talk to him.”

“Sure, I’ll check to see if he’s taking calls,” you frown, clearly they’ve never stepped foot in a tattoo shop before or understand any etiquette of tattoo shops.

You put the person on hold and ring the back office, “someone wants to speak to you? Do I tell them off or let them through?”

“Feel like being nice, put them through.”

You transfer the line to the back office and look back at your portrait, taking out your skin tone set of colored pencils. There was a lull in the shop around dinner time and you decided to color his body in while there was some silence.

****

“Hello, this is Bryce, how can I help you?”

“Hi, you’re, you’re Y/N’s boss right?”

“Yes, who’s this, Wait, are you that Tom fella? No distracting her at work.”

“Of course not sir, I wouldn’t. I was just wondering, she told me you might go to her graduation.”

“That’s right.”

“I was wondering if maybe, maybe you could get a second ticket? I wanted to surprise her, but I wouldn’t know how to get a ticket.”

“Do you think she would want you there?”

“I don’t, I would hope so, I mean, I don’t know how to ask her without giving away that I want to surprise her.”

“Well I’ll ask her, hold on.”

“Right now?!”

“Yes, just you wait a minute.”

****

Bryce strolls out of his office rolling his eyes, “some random asshole who doesn’t know what our cancellation policy is. Trying to cancel our appointment for tomorrow and get his money back at the same time.”

“Huh, weird that he asked for you.”

“Well I’m his artist, makes sense.”

“Yeah, totally,” you nod, eyeing Bryce as he sits on the stool next to you.

“Looks good so far,” he nods as you shade in his neck.

“Thanks,” you hum, changing the color for his face, slightly darker color to contrast the light from the window you would add later.

“So, your graduation.”

Your face drops and you stop coloring. He doesn’t want to go. Or he is too busy.

“You don’t haveta go, stupid for me to invite you, it’s whatever,” you sigh.

“No, no I was going to ask if I could get two tickets, for Adrien and I.”

“He’d wanna come?”

“What’s my husband gonna do? Sit and look pretty? We’re not open on Sundays he won’t have work.”

“I’d love to get you two tickets.”

****

“Do you like your presents?”

You giggled, looking through the box of lingerie.

“You didn’t need to get me all these.”

“But I want a photo shoot,” he whines.

You pick up a small handwritten card.

For you princess, I expect photos of you in all of them. Xx Tom

“You’ll get a photo shoot mister,” you laugh, putting your phone on speaker and taking off your clothes.

They were from an online store, all in the sizes you sent him. There were more elaborate pieces but you picked up a lacy red bralette with matching red lace panties. Most of the lingerie was red.

“Is red your favorite color?”

“How’d you know?”

“Just a guess.”

“You look so fucking good in red princess. Wait FaceTime me.”

“Okay okay,” you say, hanging up and moving to FaceTime.

“Fuck I didn’t know you’d be naked for me,” Tom groans, laying on his bed, you could see he was shirtless and were hoping there was nothing on underneath.

“Go ahead baby, put on those pretty little numbers on for me,” he says as you prop your phone up on your bedside table.

You put on the first red lacy set, posing for Tom. The camera slowly moves lower to his hand gripping his cock as he jerks off.

“Don’t come too soon, got lots more to show you.”

You show him the same set in black, causing him to bite his lip and thrust into his hand.

The next bit is a little more elaborate, lots of tiny hooks to clip in the back, and you struggle for a bit, laughing when you trip over your own two feet and Tom sits up, concerned you hurt yourself.

“I’m fine,” you laugh, getting the last hook done. You turn back to him, showing off the red lace corset that made your tits look so good, right down to where it trailed off into a lace trim hanging right above your bare pussy.

“Love this one, wanna leave marks all over your chest, tease those hard nipples of yours, shit, so pretty,” he says, hand moving faster.

“Have 911 on hold while I take this off,” you joke, fingers struggling again to unhook it. Once you do you put your hands on your knees and mock being out of breath.

“Are you okay? You don’t gotta try the others on, it’s fine,” Tom starts but you cut him off.

“Are these crotchless panties?” You gasp and look up at him. He’s blushing a little and nods.

“You don’t needa wear them, thought they’d be fun, I don’t know, don’t worry about it.”

“No Tom, I fucking love them, holy shit I could come just thinking about how useful these could be.”

You quickly slide them up your legs, fingers spreading your lips, loving how snug the fabric felt around your hips and ass but how bare and exposed your pussy was.

“Look so pretty, come on, go lie on the bed and play with your pussy,” he says, camera shaking a little as his hand speeds up.

“In these?” You ask, laying on the bed and tilting your phone so he could see your fingers move down your chest, pinching each of your nipples.

“Yes, fuck yourself with those panties, wanna see if they work,” he grunts and you follow through, fingers dipping lightly into yourself, the hole in the panties perfect for this.

“Go ahead princess stuff yourself full for me.

“Shit,” you whine, fucking yourself with your fingers.

You could hear his moans get throatier, you knew he was going to come.

“Fuck, touch your clit, come on baby,” he whines and you do just that, feeling yourself get closer and closer.

“Tom, fuck,” you groan.

“Come for me princess,” he says, his voice deep and gravelly.

Your fingers speed up and you come like a horny teenager with a cry of his name.

He comes right after, and you bring the phone up to your face, giggling a little as he licks his lips.

“Feel like a fucking teenager right now.”

“Yeah?”

“Hella horny all the time, sexting.”

“Wish you were here,” he sighs, hand running through his hair.

“Me too,” you yawn.

“How are you tired it’s like 6pm there.”

“Been working nonstop on your projects, finally finished them today after pulling an all-nighter. Gotta pass them in tomorrow.”

“Can I see them?”

“Course. But I’m gonna sleep now. And you should too! It’s late over there.”

“You’re right.”

“Goodnight Tom.”

“Night princess.”

***

“You should try juuling,” Tom says nonchalantly.

“What?” You almost choke, smoke exhaling out of your nostrils, you cough for the first time while smoking in three years.

“To help you stop smoking, you told me you wanted to stop, eventually, heard juuling helps.”

You roll your eyes at the boy on the other end of the FaceTime call.

“Sure,” you say, “just, I’m graduating today, got some nerves to shake out.”

“But you did it, and your portrait professor said yours was the best work she’s seen this year.”

“Yeah, thank you for your pretty face.”

“Of course,” he grins.

“Where are you right now?” You ask, the bed behind him not his own, he never said he had any filming or press. His next press thing was a week from now in Mexico according to him. Your heart nearly falls out of your chest, what if he’s at another girl’s place? You know you never said anything about seeing other people, you were just messing around, why did what he did in his free time matter to you?

Sure you texted every day, not just sexted. You learned about his friends, his likes, his dislikes, anything and everything, all the little fun facts about him. But that was just getting to know the person you’re sleeping with, right?

He must’ve seen the look of confusion mixed with hurt on your face because he sat up and his eyes widened.

“Nevermind, doesn’t matter, I haveta, I gotta go.”

You were going to wait for him to answer but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself even more so you hung up quickly.

“Fuck,” you say, tears stinging your eyes as you finish your cigarette and immediately start another one.

“Hey! Y/N, we gotta get going- fuck, what’s wrong?” Lily asks as she joins you on your balcony.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you say, sniffling as you take a long drag.

“Clearly you’re not fine you’re crying, what’s wrong?”

“I just, I’m an idiot.”

“What?”

You silently finish your cigarette, Lilly rubbing your back as you stub the end into your ashtray.

“I think Tom was at someone else’s place, like in someone else’s bed.”

“Oh.”

“It’s stupid, we never said we were a thing this was just, we’re just fooling around so it doesn’t matter what he does in his free time.”

“Did you hear what he had to say?”

“No, feel like a fucking idiot, didn’t wanna embarrass myself in front of him anymore.”

“You should ask him out.”

“Huh?”

“Tell him you wanna be official, wanna be boyfriend girlfriend or whatever. It’s obvious you’ve got feelings for him.”

“Nah, he’s, he's famous, he’d never be around,” you shrug.

“Okay, But doesn’t change how you feel. So put on your big girl panties, stop crying, we’ve got a graduation to get to.”

“Don’t gotta leave for a few hours.”

“Two.”

���Okay, so I’m going to smoke this entire pack of cigarettes then we can graduate.”

“You’re seriously going to stand here and chain smoke?”

“Yep,” you nod, grabbing another cigarette.

“Just call him back, call him once and see what’s up, okay? Don’t be stupid and sound like an old lady for graduation.”

“Fuck off,” you groan.

“Fine, but just, call him okay?”

“Whatever,” you grumble.

Lily sighs and leaves you on the balcony alone. You look back at your phone. Nothing. It didn’t matter anyways, maybe you scared him off enough that you wouldn’t have to deal with the messiness that came with feelings.

You shrugged, wiping the stupid fucking tears from your eyes, grabbing another cigarette. Maybe you would get a juul or whatever they were called, cigarettes were fucking expensive and as your apprenticeship got closer you realized how fucked you were. It only made her angrier.

You couldn’t think about that now. Instead, you focused on the ring of smoke you blew from your mouth, the burning sensation you felt in your lungs.

You don’t know how long you stood there, smoking as the sun got higher in the sky and the bustling life of Queens began to start. It was a Sunday so everyone was going to church or catching up on errands.

You heard a knock on the door to your tiny apartment and the door swing open. You ignore it, thinking it might be Lily’s girlfriend here so you all could travel to graduation together.

You finish your cigarette, the knocking on the door starting up again.

“Who the fuck, Lily, who is it?” You shout, making your way back inside, closing your balcony door. You toss your pack and lighter on your bedside table before walking the very few steps to your front door.

“Lily, where the fuck are you?” You groan before unlocking the door and swinging it open.

“Who the fuck-,”

“Surprise?”

Tom was standing in front of you, wearing a really nice suit, eyes red.

“Oh. Oh!” Him in a different bed, acting sort of weird over the past few days made sense.

“I’m sorry. I, I was going to surprise you at your graduation but when you asked where I was I didn’t want you to think that I was with someone else or something, and I’m sorry if you don’t want me to be here I just thought I didn’t wanna wait until May to-,”

You cut him off pressing your lips against his, taking him off guard he stumbles back, arms wrapping around your body to draw you tight against him.

“I want to see you too,” you mumble against his lips, shutting the door behind him.

“Hey, glad you liked your surprise,” Lily says, breaking the two of you apart.

His hands were still tight on your waist, your hands cupping his face, you just nodded, looking at Tom who stared right back at you.

“I’m glad you’re here,” you say, smiling.

“I think I’m even happier that I’m here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep.”

“Prove it,” his eyes dart between your lips and your own eyes.

“Okay, so I’m going to meet Lexie downstairs for coffee, if I don’t see the both of you down there in 30 minutes so we can get to graduation on time I swear to god I’ll kill you,” Lily interrupts and you sigh, forehead pressed against Tom’s.

“Bye Lily,” you shout as she slams the front door.

“Missed you,” you say as you lead him the short way past your kitchen into your bedroom.

“Missed you too princess,” he says, kissing down your neck.

“Now it’s your turn not to leave any marks,” you say, “don’t wanna look trashy when I walk the stage.”

“So I can leave marks here?” He asks, hands moving to grope your breasts.

“Fuck, please,” you whimper, tugging at his suit coat.

“Missed yer kiss,” Tom says, lips meeting yours again as you both struggle to undress each other.

“Don’t have lotsa time,” you say, pushing him back so you can quickly slip out of your sundress.

“Fuck, that’s one of the sets that I gotcha, you like it?”

You nod as he quickly gets out of his clothes, watching as you toss your bra and panties to the side.

“Fuck, Missed yer tits,” he groans, accent thicker, voice rougher.

“Touch me, come on, no time,” you say, moving to grab a condom from your bedside table.

“How are we gonna,” he says gesturing to your bed.

“I know it’s not as good as your king bed. Actually it’s garbage compared to your bed but it’s all that’ll fit in this fucking room,” you say, pushing him down on your twin bed.

You straddle his hips, grinding down on his hard cock as he plays with your tits, sucking and marking them as much as he can.

You hurriedly slip the condom onto his cock and sit on his cock, his teeth gliding against your nipple as you do.

“Fuck, Tom,” you whine as his hands grip your ass, encouraging you to move.

“Come on, not much time,” he says as you start to bounce on his lap.

“Fuck,” you groan, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you move quicker.

“That’s what we’re doing.”

“Shhh,” you whimper, a finger moving to your clit, rubbing it eagerly. He kisses you hard, his lips telling you something without words.

You didn’t want to admit it but you were so excited he was here, if you had to sext one more time you would lose your mind. And whether you would say it out loud or not, you didn’t really want to sleep with someone else to relieve the tension you felt since that night. Your tongue met his in your mouth, his touches softer tonight than a little bit ago, tender. You both reached your highs pretty quickly and Tom would’ve been embarrassed save for the fact that he’s waited so long for this and the sight of you on top of him, the way your lips felt against his, he was a goner, in every sense of the word.

“Wow,” you say as Tom helps you off of him.

“Missed yer sex,” he laughs, taking the condom off as you start to get dressed.

“I’m very grateful you’re here.”

“I think that Manhattan could hear your box spring.”

“Well now they all know how good I’m getting it.”

“What’re your plans later tonight?”

“Well, was gonna go out to like an early dinner late lunch with Bryce and Adrien. Wait how did you even get a ticket to my graduation?”

“Asked Bryce actually.”

“Yeah? How is Adrien going?”

“That’s his husband right? Not sure,” he says, getting dressed as well.

“Hmm, well we’ll see him there. I’ll be right back gonna run to the bathroom make sure I look presentable.”

“I think you look beautiful.”

“Thanks buddy, but we just fucked so I’d like to make sure it doesn’t look like that at my graduation.”

“Good plan,” he laughs, buttoning his shirt.

You make your way to the bathroom, peeing before brushing through your hair. Your sundress showed off your sleeves and upper back tattoos so you grabbed the sunscreen.

“Lather me up,” you say, handing Tom the sunscreen.

“Aren’t you going to be wearing a gown?”

“Nah, it’s art school, we have the hat things, whatever they’re called, but we just wear those and call it a day.”

Tom shrugs, pulling you down onto his lap, he leaves gentle kisses along your tattoos before applying the sunscreen to it, rubbing it into your skin.

“Ready to go?” You ask, about to move from your position on his lap.

He shakes his head and you frown, tilting your head curiously, “wha-,”

He kisses you, hands cupping your face, thumb rubbing your cheek. You swipe your tongue across his lips but he pulls back, “nuh uh.”

“What?”

“Lily is going to kill us, let’s go, I’ve got a special lady to cheer on.”

“Oh? Special?”

He nods as you reluctantly get off his lap, “she’s pretty great, I’ll have to introduce her to ya eventually.”

“Eventually,” you nod, pulling him out of your room. You grab your purse and your grad cap from the kitchen counter.

***

“Y/N, Y/L/N,” the dean of the college says and you grin as you walk on stage, shaking his hand and taking your diploma. The crowd is cheering and you definitely couldn’t seen Bryce, Tom or Adrien in it but you knew they were there. Cheering you on, somewhere.

The ceremony ended a little while after all the names were called and you all threw up your grad caps in the air, you felt cheesy doing it but here you were, a wide smile on your face as you tossed it up in the air with the rest of your class.

***

“So Tom, you’ve been acting since you were little?” Bryce asks as you all sit at the booth of a small diner near Tattoo Dice, the same shop you and Bryce got coffee at a little bit ago.

“Yes,” he nods, hand resting on your thigh.

“What’s your favorite thing you’ve ever acted in?” Adrien asks.

“I know people probably expect me to say the MCU and Spiderman but I quite enjoyed doing Billy Elliot when I was younger.”

“Would you ever do musical theater again? Or theater? Or will you stick to the big screen?”

“You know, I really loved theater, so who knows maybe I’ll make a musical theater revival. I’d haveta work on my voice first but yeah, maybe.”

“And your new movie comes out soon right? The new Spiderman?” Bryce asks.

“Yep, I start the press tour in like a week? Just about.”

“So you travel a lot?”

“Okay, let’s cool it with the 20 questions,” you laugh, “let’s not scare him away.”

“Oh I don’t scare easily,” Tom smiles, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your thigh.

This was the first time any of your hooks up or, you didn’t want to say this and jinx it, any of your boyfriends met Bryce and Adrien, the closest you’d ever come to actual parents.

Maybe Tom knew you were nervous, hell everything about you gave it away. Your leg was bouncing up and down, his hand didn’t stop your leg from moving, just rested it there, which was comforting.

“So, you own the shop is that right?” Tom asks, “and Adrien, you’re the shop’s piercer?”

“Yep, opened Tattoo Dice 19 years ago.”

“And Y/N will be, what’s it called, she’ll learn how to tattoo from you?”

“Yeah, she’ll be my apprentice, she’s going to get started on synthetic skin first, so she gets the feel of the tattoo needle, then she’ll learn basic health and safety of tattooing, stuff she’s already learned since she’s gotten so many tattoos and is the front desk attendant but she’ll get certified officially while apprenticing.”

“So it’s a lot of work huh?”

“She’ll be working hard but that’s what she’s always done so I’m not worried.”

“You’re too kind Bryce,” you say, blushing a little.

“I’ve got no doubt you’ll be fantastic,” Tom says, kissing your cheek.

“So, we start my training tomorrow?” You ask as the four of you stand outside the coffee shop. Tom had got you both a taxi back to your place, Bryce and Adrien would head back to their apartment above the shop.

“Actually, why don’t we start next Monday?”

“Monday? What will I do until then?”

“Relax? Have a little break? You’ve trained the person taking your place, you can still work your evening shifts if you want, but you don’t have to.”

“Gotta pay rent so yeah I think I’ll work this week.”

“Don’t be afraid to take some time off, relax, you deserve it.”

“I will, promise.” “Alright, there’s your taxi, get lost, and congrats kid,” Bryce says, pulling you into a hug. You relax in his arms, and laugh as Adrien hugs the both of you.

“Okay, okay, relax, rest, get lost,” you say, pushing out of their hug.

“Congrats,” Adrien says as you slip into the taxi with Tom.

“Congrats grad,” Tom says, lips gently kissing right below your ear.

“Cheeseball,” you say, his fingers intertwining with your own.  

“That does not sound tasty.”

“No it really doesn’t,” you laugh.

The ride back to your apartment was quiet, save for a few comments from Tom about the other driver’s here, how terrifying they all were, with little care for pedestrians or other cars.

“Guess that’s what it’s like in New York,” you shrug as Tom pays the taxi driver.

“So, nightcap?” He asks as you bring him up to your apartment.

“It’s like 6pm it’s way too early for a nightcap,” you laugh, “but I can, I can think of other things we can do to occupy our time.”

“Oh yeah? What did ya have in mind princess?” he asks, his mouth ghosting over your neck.

“Why don’t we go to my room and find out?”

“Your friend isn’t home?”

“Nah her and Lexi will be with their families and then at Lexi’s place, we’ve got a whole 500 square feet to ourselves.”

“You don’t even have a living room.”

“Hey, I’ve got a twin bed and a balcony that’s all I’ll ever need.”

“Whatever you say,” he sighs.

“Come here,” you say, pulling him close, lips meeting his.

You stumble back towards your room, fumbling with the door as Tom’s hands glide under your dress, gripping your ass.

“Missed your hands,” you say as he slaps your ass, your dress bunched at your waist as he pushes you down onto your bed.

You pull your dress over your head as you move up your bed, watching as Tom gets undressed.

You start to take off your bra but he stops you, hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Lemme undress you baby,” he says, straddling your hips and kissing up your stomach. He kisses the tops of your breasts before making his way back to your lips, leaving as many marks as he can on the way up.

“Tom, fuck,” you groan as his hands move to unclip your bra, tossing it to the side.

“Lemme make ya feel good princess,” he says before taking a nipple into his mouth, eyes watching your face contort in pleasure as his fingers play with the other one before switching sides. His hips grind down against yours and you so desperately wanted to get his underwear off, so you could feel him but you decided to be patient, decided it would be worth the wait.

He makes his way back down your body, fingers tugging down your panties, “practically dripping for me, you excited to see me or something?”

“As if you aren’t,” you huff, growing impatient as he breathes against you, so close to where you want him.

“Be patient for me, okay? Almost there,” he says, before kneeling on the floor in front of the bed, tugging you down so your legs are propped up on his shoulders.

You immediately moan at the sensation of his tongue against your clit, slowly lapping at it before moving to your entrance, licking through your folds.

“Fuck come on,” you groan, hands flying to his hair.

“Tug away baby, won’t give you what you want until you’re patient for me.”

You whine, hands tugging at him, frustrated, you lay your head against your bed and let him tease you.

He grins against you and you feel his finger push inside you, tongue making gentle strokes against your clit.

“Good girl,” he says, another finger pushing into you, he starts to pick up the pace, fucking you with his fingers in earnest.

“Fuck come on Tom, make me come,” you say, the knot in your stomach forming way too quickly.

His lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently while fucking into you harder.

His teeth graze your clit and you come with a cry of his name, pulsing against him. His fingers slip out of you as he kisses your thighs, dropping them to the side of his shoulders.

“Missed you,” he says, kissing his way back up your body.

You’re still horny as fuck, you wanted him to get a move on so you grabbed his shoulders tugging him on top of you, “fuck me, please.”

“It’d be my pleasure,” Tom smiles, kissing you softly, too soft for what you’re about to do.

“Come on,” you say, reaching for your bedside table grabbing a condom from the drawer.

“Those been sitting there waiting for me?”

“I was getting ready for the end of May, gotta stock up.”

“So smart,” he says, pushing his underwear down his legs and tosses them to the side.

You rip open the condom and help him slide it down his cock, he groans as you jerk him off, kissing down your neck as he hikes your thigh up around his waist.

“Come on, fuck me,” you whimper as his cock rubs against your folds.

“This what you want princess?” He asks, bottoming out, smirking as you cry out his name.

“Let’s go,” you say, your hips moving up to grind against his.

“All yours tonight princess,” he says, one hand holding himself up while the other cups your face, kissing you as he begins to move.

Tonight wasn’t any less pleasurable than the night a few weeks ago, although the way he made you feel was very different.

He wasn’t any gentler with his thrusts, but his movement was more deliberate, more meaningful.

“Come on, make me come, baby,” you say, arms wrapped around his neck, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Gotcha princess,” he says, hand moving between the two of you to rub your clit, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Yes, fuck, make me come around your cock, please,” you whine and his lips capture yours, swallowing your moans as you come.

His thrusts get faster and sloppier, your legs wrapped around his waist.

“Feel so, feel so fucking good,” he says, voice deeper.

“Come for me, please, wanna feel you Tommy,” you whine and he groans, face tucked into your neck as he comes, hips slowing to a stop.

“Wow,” you laugh as he pulls out of you, sitting up and taking the condom off.

“Still good?”

“Don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for that.”

“Hmmm, three weeks? Give or take?” He asks, sticking his tongue out at you.

“Shut up,” you laugh, sitting up and kissing him. Something about the way he kissed you, it wasn’t needy like he would never see you again, but just his lips, soft and warm and against yours.

“Needa smoke, hop off me Holland,” you say against his lips and he nods, getting off the bed.

You open your closet grabbing two t-shirts and slipping one over your head, tossing the other one at Tom.

“The view from the balcony is really pretty, I’ll be right back,” you say, kissing his cheek before grabbing your panties.

You wink at him before going to the bathroom, peeing and splashing some water on your face. When you go back to your room you grab your smokes and lighter from your bedside table. You watch Tom lean against your small balcony railing, feet crossed and head tilted towards the sunset.

You grab sleep shorts and pull them up before stepping onto the balcony.

“Hey handsome,” you say, arms wrapping around his waist from behind, kissing his neck.

“Hey to you too,” he says, relaxing into your arms.

“Told ya the view is pretty,” you say, face tucked into his neck.

You feel Tom pause, unsure of his next words.

“My favorite is when it’s late out, not all the lights are off, obviously, it’s New York, but when most of them are off, past midnight usually, you can see all the stars in the sky.”

“We should do that,” he mumbles, hands resting over yours.

“Good idea,” you nod, unwrapping your arms and slipping next to him.

He watches as your black acrylics tap against the railing, one hand fiddling with your pack of cigarettes and lighter.

“What is it?”

“I should quit these things.”

“I mean, I’m not going to tell you no, but if that’s what you want, that’s what you should do.”

“Maybe I’ll get that juul or the gum or patch or whatever, cigarettes cost so fucking much anyways, gotta cut costs somewhere and I’d rather not live off of ramen and popcorn for the next few months.”

“Up to you,” he says, watching you get a cigarette and hold up your lighter.

“Tomorrow, tomorrow’s another day, I’ll finish off the rest of my cigarettes and then I’ll stop.”

Tom raises his eyebrows at you and you shake your head, “I’m not every other smoker who says they’ll quit tomorrow and then tomorrow becomes the next day and the next day and so on, never said I was gonna quit before. But I think, I don’t know, it’s stupid really.”

“No, go ahead, what is it?”

“I feel like I’m opening a new chapter, art school is done, I’m gonna be a tattoo artist soon, hopefully, and-,”

“And you’ve got me.”

“Hmmm?” you ask, turning towards him.

“I mean, if you want, I just, I figured, I’d like to be a part of this new chapter of your life.”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry, I- if you don’t wanna, I can do, it’s,”

“Tom?”

“Yes?”

“Will you, fuck, this is so dumb, do you want to be my boyfriend?”

“I uh, sort of already assumed we were, you know, an item. So yes. I’ll be your boyfriend.”

“Dork.”

Before you realize what you’re doing you’re hugging him, arms tight around his neck, body as close as you could be to him in this moment. His arms wrap around your back almost immediately after you hug him. You stay in each other’s arms, just breathing, for some amount of time, time with Tom felt all too quick but drawn out at the same time. But you also really needed to smoke. You pulled away from him and pull out a cigarette.  

“Let me,” He says, nodding towards the lighter in your hand.

You quirk your eyebrow at him, handing it over. He attempts to flick the lighter on a few times, biting his lip in concentration.

You put your thumb over his, showing him how to pull the safety tab down to spark the lighter.

The two of you stare at the small flame of your lighter between you, illuminating each of his freckles and each of your tattoos as the sun sets over the balcony.

“Here,” he says as you slip the cigarette between your lips. He holds the lighter to it and you nod when it’s lit, taking a drag before turning away from Tom and blowing the smoke out of your lungs.

“I had to smoke cigars, for a movie once, but I wasn’t very good at it.”

“Not something you want to be good at,” you laugh.

His hands wrap around your waist from behind, chin resting on your shoulder as you finish your cigarette.  

“What do ya wanna do tomorrow?”

“Hmm, you don’t have somewhere to run off to? Your press thingy, what’s it called? In Mexico?”

“That’s next week, I uhm I’ve got my hotel for the week. We can go there if you want. It’ll be like a staycation for you.”

“Stay here tonight.”

“Huh?”

“Stay at my place, tonight, there’s a little breakfast place I want to take you to, about a block from here. Only if you wanna.”

“Of course I wanna girlfriend.”

“Oh my god shut up,” you laugh, finishing your cigarette.

“Okay, can I call you princess?” He says, lips pressing against your neck.

“Of course,” you say, “call me something else too,” you grind back against him.

“Oh yeah?”

“Come inside,” you say, putting your cigarette out in the ashtray as Tom kisses down the back of your neck.

He pulls you back in, closing the balcony door. You drop your lighter and cigarettes on the bedside table.

His hands are quick to tug your shirt over your head, planting kisses down your chest, smirking at the marks he left earlier.

“Gonna be a good slut for me and suck my cock?” He asks, hand cupping your pussy.

“Please,” you groan as his palm gently rubs against your clothed clit.

He guides you to your knees, one hand firm on your shoulder while the other tugs off his shirt.

His hands pull your hair out of your face as you push down his underwear, hand wrapping around his cock.

“Go ahead, be a good slutty princess for me,” he says, not pushing your head down but just watching as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

You gently lick up and down his cock, before starting to bob your head, his hips start to move against you and you can’t tell if it’s deliberate or not but you moan when you choke around him, breathing deeply through your nose.

“Look so pretty down on your knees for me, gonna make me come like a good girl?”

You moan again, feeling him twitch in your mouth as you still, letting his hips do all the work.

“Such a good slut for me, fuck, gonna come in your mouth princess,” he groans, hips stilling with your lips wrapped around the head of his cock.

He comes with a groan of your name followed by princess, and you couldn’t help but smile as he helped you up. You fucking loved that nickname.

“Your turn,” he grins as you pull your panties down and off your legs, “do ya, do you still have mine from- from,” you try to finish your question but he’s pushing you down on the bed, one hand wrapping around your wrists and pinned them to the bed, the other running up and down your side.

“God princess I used those to jerk off so many times, had to wash them eventually, still kinda smell like you, I’ll need a new pair when I leave this week.”

“Don’t think that’ll be a problem,” you giggle as he leaves butterfly kisses against your cheek.

“What are you, what are you doing?” you laugh.

“Kissing you, duh,” he says, before his lips meet your hot skin.

“Go on, eat me out baby, please,” you whine, hips moving to meet his own.

“I’m going princess, relax for me okay?” he asks, hand leaving your wrists, which you keep above your head.

He makes his way down your body, kissing as his hands spread your legs wide, he situates himself between them, kissing along your thighs as his fingers slip into your pussy.

“Fuck Tom,” you groan. He quickly brings his lips to your entrance, licking and kissing and just making you feel everything. He brings you to orgasm with his lips wrapped around your clit and three fingers pressing against your sweet spot.

“Taste so good princess,” he says, fingers still moving slowly inside of you as he makes his way up to your face, kissing up. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips, arms wrapping around his neck.

***

“I would love to shower with you but my shower is lucky to fit one person, the mere idea of two people in this shower will break it,” you laugh as Tom brushes his teeth.

“Fine, guess I’ll just haveta watch you shower.”

“Okay perv,” you joke as you wait for the water to warm up.

He’s wearing the t-shirt you gave him earlier, he’s small enough that it fits well, the only part that stretches is the sleeves, his biceps bigger than your own.

Once you showered you dried your hair, about to walk back to your room with the towel wrapped around you.

“You don’t wanna watch me shower?”

“No you weirdo,” you laugh and you hear him laugh in return, stepping into the shower.

You sit on your bed, drying your hair as best you can. You tried to think about how this all came to be. When all you wanted was to hook up with someone during your trip to London. You never, ever would have expected this, not in a million years.

“Whatcha thinking about?” he asks from your door and you almost jump off your bed, heart racing.

“Shit, how long’ve you been standing there?” “Just got outta the shower, not as fun as if we were in there together, gonna haveta try that at my hotel.”

“I’d like that,” you say, “come here, help me put lotion on my tattoos.”

“What?”

“Lotion. Gotta moisturize them so they still look good in 50 years.”

“Didn’t know that.”

“Well of course you wouldn’t.”

“Actually,” he starts, pulling you up to stand with him.

“What?” you laugh as he sits down in your place, tugging your towel off and sitting you down between his legs, your back to his chest.

“I’ve got a tattoo.”

“What?! Where?” you ask, turning your head to look for a tattoo somewhere that for some reason you didn’t notice before.

“Don’t laugh.”

“Why would I laugh? I wanna see it!”

“Here,” he says, his leg moving to rest on top of yours as he points to the bottom of his foot.

“You- you got a, what is that, is that a spider?! On the bottom of your foot?” You’re trying your best not to laugh.

“Told ya you’d laugh, yes, I’ve got a spider, had to get it done over twice, it hurt like a bitch.”

“Why would you, why,” you start before giggling.

“Hush and let me lotion you up,” he says, dropping his leg.

“Why the bottom of your foot? That’s like such a bad place for a tattoo, it’ll never last!”

“Well that’s kinda why, and because I’m an actor. Don’t want tattoos to get in the way of my work.”

“What- other actors have tattoos. But you’re very brave for getting the bottom of your foot tattooed, that must be painful.”

“You’d never get the bottom of your foot tattooed?”

“Fuck no, you kidding? No thank you, that’s a no zone for me.”

“Mhm,” he hums as his hands rub the lotion into the skin of your upper back and arms, taking his time to catch every part of each of your tattoos.

“Making me sleepy,” you say as his hands move to massage your shoulders. “Then let’s sleep,” he says, kissing your cheek.

“Gotta get dressed,” you mumble.

“Meh, it’s hot in here, we can sleep naked.”

“How’re we gonna fit here again?”

“Here,” Tom says, pushing your comforter and sheets down, moving the two of you so he’s laying on his back and you’re on your side, practically on top of him.

“This is comfortable for you?” you ask, hand resting on his chest.

“Mhm, you good?”

“Very comfy,” you say, yawning as his hand runs up and down your arm.

“Goodnight princess.”

“Night baby,” you say as sleep overtakes you.

***

“So, you do this a lot?” He asks as you curl up at his side on the bench in Central Park.

“Only when I’ve got free time and it’s nice out, it’s the perfect day for it,” you say, opening your sketchpad to a new page.

“And you just find someone to draw?”

“Normally I draw some of the people who live here, sometimes people sitting on benches around us, like to people watch, ever done it?”

“I’m sorry, people watch?”

“Yeah, sit somewhere and just observe people in their natural habitat, it’s fascinating.”

“Whatever you say,” he laughs, arm around your shoulder.

“It’ll be worth it, promise.” “I don’t doubt that,” he nods as you look around.

There’s a man who was sleeping peacefully on the bench across from you and you glance over his features, your pencil starting to sketch on the page.

“Him?”

“Yep, I think I’ve sketched him before, he’s normally running around everywhere, asking people for hugs, so I only got a quick sketch of his face, but this’ll be perfect,” you say, drawing out the bench.

You can feel Tom’s eyes on your sketchbook as you draw and if it were anyone else you’d be uncomfortable, not wanting them to see anything but a final product. But with him it was different. You were okay with showing him bits and pieces of your life you kept hidden.

“If you were to get tattooed by anyone, who would you want to tattoo you?”

“Probably Ryan Ashley.” “Who’s that?”

“Famous tattoo artist, she’s the first female winner of Ink Master, sorta paving the way for female artists in the mainstream. She does these amazing realistic jewelry pieces, always sort of wanted a chest piece, I’ve been saving it on the very rare chance that she’d ever tattoo me,” you ramble as you start to sketch the outline of the man’s body.

“You wouldn’t want to get tattooed by me?” “Are you telling me you’ve tattooed someone before?” You feel him nod against your head and you gasp, “Tom, you’re just full of surprises huh?”

“Yep, tattooed a little spiderman spider on someone’s leg, he let’s celebrities tattoo him all the time.”

“Fucking jealous you’ve gotten the chance to tattoo someone before I have.”

“I can guarantee you’d be a million times better than me.”

“Hope so, I’ve put all my time and effort into working at Tattoo Dice, I hope it pays off, hope that I put art on people’s skin that they appreciate.”

“I believe in you,” he says, eyes watching as people walk past, feeling comforted by the fact that nobody knows he’s here, none of his fans or paparazzi will be looking for him. He can spend time with you in public without worrying about being stopped every few feet for an autograph or a photo.

Someone looked at the both of you as they walked past, eyes pausing on Tom, who was just wearing sunglasses.

“to hide my unruly brow,” he explained when he put them on this morning.

“Is that like your disguise?” you asked him.

“Course, now nobody can tell it’s me.”

“Sure baby,” you shrugged, blushing a little when his hand slipped down to hold your own as you left your apartment.

You felt him tense and you looked up, “What’s wrong?”

The person kept walking. “Nothing, was scared they noticed who I was,” he whispers as you relax back against him, working more on the arms of the man on the bench.

“But you’ve got your sunglasses on, you’re Clark Kent,” you say.

“Wrong universe,” Tom smirks.

“You know what I mean,” you poke his side before concentrating back on the sketch.

It had to be at least an hour when you were satisfied with how it looked, sitting up to brush away some eraser shavings.

“How’s it look?” You ask, looking up at Tom.

“Pretty damn good,” he says, grinning back at you.

The man on the bench wakes up with a start, grumbling to himself. You quickly rip the page off your sketchbook and get up.

“Want me to-,”

“I’m fine,” you tell Tom before moving the few feet to the man’s bench.

“Whaddya want?” He asks, voice rough.

“I uh, I’m an artist. Draw people, and well, here,” you say, awkwardly holding out the sketch of the man to him.

“What the- is this me? This is me! Wow,” the man says and your brows furrow with worry when his eyes start to tear up.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask permission before drawing you, just looked so peaceful sleeping there and- oh!” You smile as he pulls you into a tight hug.

“This is, this is the best thing I’ve ever seen, I’ll keep it forever, and I mean that,” he says as he let’s you go.

“Well, I’m glad you like it, have a good day,” you smile as he picks up his backpack and shopping cart full of belongings.

“You too dear,” he smiles, wiping a tear from his eyes before walking away, holding the sketch tight to his chest.

You turn back to Tom, sure your face is lit up with a smile.

“You’ve done it yet again princess.”

“Huh?” you ask, sitting down next to him.

“You’re gonna change lives with that art of yours.”

“Sucha dork,” you giggle.

“Cm’ere, miss yer kiss,” he says, kissing you gently as his fingers intertwined with your own.

***

“Gonna miss you,” you mumble, face tucked into his shoulder as he hugs you.

“Already miss you.”

“Dork,” you giggle.

You were standing outside your apartment waiting for Tom’s taxi to take him to the airport.

“I wanna see the first tattoo you do okay?”

“Obviously, I’ll see if Adrien can video it for me.”

The taxi pulls up and Tom pulls you tighter against him, like he didn’t want to let go. And to be fair, neither did you.

“Okay, go before they charge you extra for making them wait.”

“Alright,” He says, kissing you, it wasn’t a soft sweet kiss, or a desperate I want you kiss. But a this is the last time I’ll see you for a little bit and I’ll miss you kiss. And honestly? You think you loved those kisses the most. You pulled away first.

“Get outta here Holland,” you say and he laughs, tossing his suitcase into the backseat with him. As the taxi drives away his hand presses against the window and he mouths “I’ll miss you.”

____________________________________

Tag list (tagged people who asked for a part two/asked to be tagged): @hcllander @spideyyeet @particularspider @wooowsworld @ruefulposts @screeching-student-unknown @jennypizzaholland @april-14-blog @asphalt-cocktail @rageyoudamnednerd @superherosthings 

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Giardino Segreto ch. 1

[Read on AO3] | [Next Chapter] [Support me on Ko-fi] Rating: T Summary: Alastor finds himself in a bit of a pickle. He’s fallen in love with a human--a frustrated young man named Angel--and now needs to win his love in return before he chokes on pent-up affection (Hanahaki Disease). What’s a demon to do?

— — –

Another night in New York City, and Alastor sat cross-legged on one of the Dellarosa home’s many balconies, observing, listening. The room he was peering into was on the third floor, one of few still lit so late at night. Inside, two very similar young people—easily recognizable as twins—sat on the edge of a nicely-made bed. Both had bleach-blond hair with dark roots starting to show, both were a little thin in some place, a little curvy in others. The young woman was tending to a cut on her brother’s cheek, dabbing an alcohol-soaked cotton ball against the gash.

“Ow,” he said softly.

“Sorry.” She quickly drew away, biting her lip, visibly agonized over his pain.

“It’s fine. I’m used to it by now.” Alastor could’ve recognized that voice even without seeing its source, that soft tenor currently tinged with bitterness. Angel. His heart quickened slightly at the sound. “His fault, not yours.”

“I don’t know why he gets so steamed about it. Even if you two can’t agree—”

“Agree? It’s my fuckin’ life; he shouldn’t get a say!” Angel growled. His sister (Molly, if Alastor recalled correctly) cowered slightly, and he sighed. “Sorry. You know it’s not you I’m pissed at.”

“I know.”

“And Criss ain’t helpin’! He acts like he gives a shit when it’s just us, then when Dad’s around, it’s ‘Antonia’ this and ‘sorellina’ that.” The anger in Angel’s voice was drawn down with pain, and he gripped tightly at the covers beneath him. Molly wiped blood away from the cut on his forehead, and he winced slightly. There was nothing she could do for the bruise under his left eye. “Thanks. Sorry I keep buggin’ you with this shit.”

“He’ll come around eventually, Angelino.” She leaned in and planted a kiss on his forehead, then left for her own room. Angel sat very sit for a few seconds, dark eyes staring at the floor with a kind of helpless fury and sorrow that Alastor couldn’t help but find fascinating. He glanced toward the window, and the demon froze. But of course, Angel couldn’t see him. The boy—a young man, really, somewhere around the age of 25—let out a sigh and turned out the lights, then crawled into bed and buried himself under the covers. It wasn’t until Alastor heard his breathing turn slow and deep that he finally left, strolling away from the house and twirling his staff idly through his fingers.

Was there something a bit voyeuristic, a bit ‘creepy’ about this? Certainly. But could he help himself? Absolutely not. This wasn’t the first time he’d observed Angel Dellarosa and been utterly captivated by every word from his mouth, every toss of his hair. Angel, who had been given a different name at birth but had since chosen a new one for himself. Angel, whose family—excluding his sister—refused to acknowledge who he was and how he felt. Stubborn, passionate, beautiful Angel, who had caught Alastor’s attention on his first night in the Big Apple and held it firmly ever since.

It was odd. He didn’t typically take such a fixed interest in any particular human. Most of them, he would’ve said, were more or less interchangeable. Predictable. Boring. But Angel had surprised him and continued to do so. If only there were something he could do to make the boy’s life easier, he would, without a moment’s hesitation. To see him comfortable, to see him at ease, to see him fulfilled and smiling…

When Alastor’s chest inexplicably tightened, his stride faltered. Further tightness, an itch in his throat, and he coughed. Instead of fading, the sensation of his chest constricting got worse, forcing him to cough harder and cover his mouth by reflex. He was familiar enough with the idea of consumption that he expected to see blood when he pulled his hand back.

The flower petals, however, came as a surprise.

Rose petals, to be specific. Powder pink roses, pink like Angel’s lips when he smiled, like his fingertips when they ran through his hair. Funny. Knowing himself, Alastor would’ve expected red, but although they were stained with the same blood still marking his lips, there was no denying the petals were soft and pale. Another unexpected turn, and once again, it was Angel’s doing.

The concept wasn’t entirely foreign, though he never would’ve expected it to apply to him of all people. He’d always thought of this as more of a Heavenly affliction. Was it a Biblical story? He couldn’t recall.

The tale went that love was a gift, a thing of beauty, and one should never keep such a gift hidden. If kept trapped inside and unshared, the blossoming emotions would fill the space they were given: the space in one’s chest, one’s heart, one’s lungs. The only cure was to confess and to have the feelings reciprocated. Otherwise, the ‘beautiful’ sickness that was love would consume the victim from the inside out. Oh, it was all very symbolic. Very artful. Very poetic.

It made Alastor want to vomit. More petals. Ugh. And the implications! Love. For crying out loud. He’d never felt any such thing in his life. Never mind that he’d gotten a little sidetracked on his recent visit to New York City and stayed a few days…weeks…all right, months longer than intended without forming a single contract. He had been berating himself for it every day. Yet there he stayed. Idiot. And now he was ‘lovesick’ in every possible sense of the word. Fool!

There weren’t many he could rightfully call friends, but there were some who tolerated his presence more than others. One such beast was a fellow demon named Husk, one who also spent much of his time lingering on Earth and enjoying the darker sides of human society. Unsure of what to do or how to approach this issue, Alastor sought him out in one of the seedy speakeasies he was known to frequent.

Husk was the sort of demon who adopted an entirely human appearance when mingling with humans so as to not give away his nature, but he was still easy enough to pick out of a crowd. After all, he was the only one who could see Alastor even while his magic was concealing him from mortal eyes.

“Bullshit! No way is that the hand you got dealt,” Alastor heard as he entered the darkened, smoke-hazed room and headed for the poker tables, where he knew he was likely to find his ‘friend.’

“You callin’ me a liar?” That was Husker’s voice, easily recognizable by its rough and perpetually-irritated tone. When Alastor reached the tables, he found Husk on his feet, in a shouting match with another patron over their game.

“Making friends as always, I see,” he remarked mildly, and Husk glanced briefly in his direction without answering.

“You know what? Fuck it. This bet ain’t even worth arguing about.” Throwing his cards down on the table, he turned to walk away, giving Alastor a subtle nod that said he should follow. So he did, wandering over to the bar, where Husk ordered a rye whiskey.

“You could have finished your game,” Alastor said, leaning against the bar and scanning the room for anything of interest. Not likely, since he knew what to expect here. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Doesn’t matter. I was cheating anyway,” Husk said flatly. “What’re you doing here? Lookin’ for some poor sap to dupe into a deal?”

“As phonetically pleasing as that is, no. I was hoping to catch you for a chat, actually. I, er, have a problem I’m not quite sure how to solve.”

“What, you’re lookin’ for advice? From me?” After receiving his drink, he gave the bartender a nod and led the way to a table in one quiet corner of the room. “I ain’t promising I’m gonna be helpful, but go ahead and lay it on me.”

Sitting very still and very straight in his chair, hands folded on the table, Alastor explained his situation as dispassionately as possible while Husk sipped his liquor. The more he talked, the more he was forced to realize exactly how complex a position he was in and how few options he had left himself. Predictably, when he got to the part about the rose petals, Husk laughed at him.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me? You got the fairy tale flower-puke disease?” he choked out, and Alastor remained silent, placid, ignoring his irritation. Yes, yes, it was all very funny until one was forced to deal with it personally. With no choice in the matter and no easy way out, it became significantly less amusing.

“I didn’t ask for it, mind you. None of this has been planned by any means.”

“But you let it happen.” Husk’s tone made it clear how strongly he disapproved, that he saw the predicament as Alastor’s own fault. And Alastor was forced to agree, to a point. “You’ve never even talked to the kid and you got it this bad? I woulda figured that wasn’t possible.”

Before I saw him, I would have too. Of course, he didn’t dare say that out loud for fear of his friend ruthlessly criticizing his—very uncharacteristic—romanticism. “However it happened,” he said instead, “I don’t have much choice but to address it at this point. The question is how to go about doing that.”

“What question? You got two options, right? Either you win him over or you eventually choke to death on your fucking feelings. Unless you just wanna give up and die—”

“You know, my friend, you have been every bit as helpful as I expected when I came here,” Alastor said pleasantly. “I truly appreciate your tact and understanding on this sensitive subject.”

Husk rolled his eyes and drained the last of his whiskey. “Look, if you wanted ‘tact and understanding,’ you came to the wrong guy. But I don’t think that is what you wanted. I think you wanted to be told exactly what you have to do, so you couldn’t keep beatin’ around the bush about it. Am I right?”

Unfortunately. The Radio Demon—funny to think how utterly inapplicable his power and reputation in Hell were to this situation—let out a defeated sigh and turned his eyes down toward the tabletop. Stained. Messy. Not his cup of tea. But his friend was right, and he’d gotten what he had come for: confirmation that there was only one thing he could do now.

He had no idea how to go about wooing anyone; he’d never had any need to in the past. How he might persuade Angel to love him and to admit it…he couldn’t begin to imagine. But at the thought of succeeding, of coming to occupy the most important and valued position in the boy’s life, his chest tightened again with desperate longing, and he quickly covered his mouth, trying to keep his cough as silent and subtle at possible. Since the first time, there had been an almost constant tension vaguely lingering around his respiratory system, but it only became unignorable at moments like this.

“Huh. Y’know, I almost figured you were bullshittin’ me,” Husk observed with vague interest as petals collected in Alastor’s palm. “Guess it’s for real. Good luck with that.”

Alastor’s fist clenched, delicate petals crushed, blood dripping down his wrist. Luck was the very least he needed.