#also PEEP THE SLIGHT CHANGES IN STYLE-

[chocostrwberry]

i'm a bit curious, so does your chat noir view ladybug less as a friend and more as a colleague? the way you described their dynamic where he's the protector, is it solely because he feels it's his duty or is it also because he cares about his friend? love your au!

It changes as their relationship develops!!

So at first, Chat Noir definitely saw Ladybug as more of a colleague. Most of all his relationships outside of his family were business-related (thanks to his parents), so he never had any friendships with people his age. Since she was the only one who can cure akumas, he felt like he was “working” with her to complete what was expected of them, which he had done basically his whole life up until this point.

HOWEVER ☝️🤓, as he started getting to know Ladybug, he realized that she actually saw him as a person. She would notice when he’s sad, ask about his day, be concerned/worry about him, and engage in conversations and listen to him respond. She was also funny, clever, and never shut him down for his antics but followed along and they had fun together every time they had to take down akumas.

Not just a replaceable body hired to do the job, but a meaningful partner. He really felt seen with her, and then he stopped thinking of her as a co-worker and more of a friend. She was pretty much his very first real friend ever in his life. (Nino in this AU and him aren’t close, but I’ll also explain that later giggles) And he ALSO knows it’s not because of his looks, since he wears a mask, which is also a bonus.

This was around the time he started developing feelings, but was too focused in getting Marinette’s attention to realize how much he really liked Ladybug.

They do this cute pinkie-promise thing too and it’s like a promise they’ll always have each other’s backs 🥹

[zujime]

─── katsuki b. + izuku m.

cw. aged up, fluff, mention of temporary quirk erasure, porn w/o much plot, established polyamorous relationship, pillow prince izuku, brief masturbation (m), handjob (m), marking, cockwarming, no y/n usage, (slight) nipple play, overstimulation, pet names used: baby, honey

note. this has been in my drafts for two whole years, if the writing style changes that’s most likely why. also, i'm so sorry the fluff is kinda long, i had to cut some of it cause it was a little longer💀

The apartment was filled with a pleasant stillness as you watched the water in the pot begin to fester as it rested on the stovetop. Katsuki had been prepping a few veggies, occasionally peeping in your direction to make sure you hadn’t hurt yourself whilst the two of you patiently waited for your speckled partner to get home from work.

The towering blond had been allowed a week to recover from his injuries during a recent villain attack. His injuries weren’t drastic—mainly a few cuts and bruises, but it took a lot out of him. The villain had nullified his quirk temporarily and his quirk was estimated to come back a few days from now, though the aftermath had been the absence of energy he currently had.

You walk over to the taller man whose face was accompanied by his usual glower; “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” You query, observing his hands attentively as he minces the vegetables before letting a grunt leave him. “It’s nothin' serious. I just don’t wanna sleep all damn day,” he rumbled—softly—as his motions came to a halt for an instant, as his scarlet eyes found yours briefly; “I’ll live” he concludes before going back to mincing.

A smile grows on the skin of your lips as you find yourself on your tiptoes, leaving a delicate, yet tender peck on his cheek before returning to what you’d been doing, and from the corner of your eye, you could almost see his features ease from the action.

Exchanges were brief yet delightful, allotting the sound of water bubbling to fill the silent void instead, though the moment the front door unlocks, you’re both twisting to see who’d come through.

Your lips form a warm smile as you met his forest eyes, Katsuki’s eyes slightly softening at the sight of him. “Oh hey, you’re back!” You chirp, eyes greeting his weary ones after he toed off his sneakers and left them at the door. You turn the stove to a low setting before promptly going over to the walking bedhead; eyes doused in nothing but fret as you inspect his exhausted ones.

“You alright?” Voice as gentle as he remembered, “come on, I’ll run you a bath, then we can talk about it during dinner if you want.” Your hand rubbed tenderly at his clothed bicep in hopes of soothing him somehow, but all he gives you is a slight nod and a frail “sure” in return. “Alright. Katsuki,” You call out in a whisper.

“Can you take care of dinner? I’ll be right back-“ “I’ll handle it.” The blond interrupts, tone gruff yet delicate as his eyes remained trained on what he’d been doing. You utter an “okay” before accompanying the tired pro hero to the washroom.

Steamy water began loading the bathtub as you helped Izuku out of his battered costume. You turned the tub faucet off after the water neared the brim, and the freckled man before you was now in nothing but his boxers. You waited for him to step out of them, only to be caught off guard when he pulled you into him.

His delicate facial features find their place hidden in your collar as his hair tickles your temple. You bring a hand up to his disheveled curls and massage his scalp, cherishing the view of the man that towered over you, melting to your touch.

“You alright, ‘zuku?” His arms tighten their grasp on your frame as the dulcet melody of your voice reaches his ears. He mumbles something in response, but it’s tough to decipher. “I can’t hear you, honey.” You snicker and move one of your hands to cup his face to get him to look at you. “I wanna...hold you. Can I?” His voice came out a bit smaller than he’d intended it to. “You’re holding me right now, aren’t you?” You ask, only to get a no in response. “That’s not what I meant,” he adds sheepishly, “I wanna keep holding you.”

“... In the tub?”

“Please?” He pleas as he leans his head into your palm. “Okay, I have to get something first.” He nods and frees you from his hold and begins taking off his boxers as you head out of the bathroom to fetch a few towels and washcloths.

Nimbly coming back to the sight of him snugly seated in the bathtub. You prop the neatly folded towels on the counter before taking off your clothes and joining Izuku, water sloshing as you straddle his lap and face him.

The conversations were mostly kept to a minimum as the two of you bask in the pacifying silence you shared after you’d both finished cleaning one another, though that peace is brought to a curt end when your blonde boyfriend slides open the door to the bathroom. His demeanor was seemingly more serene than usual and his voice was soft as he spoke, “the food’s ready, so don’t be in here all night.”

The door shut, leaving the two of you to tend to your business before finally getting out of the—now room temperature—water so you don’t prune up.

After Izuku’s done drying off and putting on the clothes that’d been nicely folded on the bathroom counter, he sits on the edge of the tub, now content as you gently dry his hair. His jagged hands found their place on your waist as he leaned into your touch once more, uttering an almost silent “thank you”.

“You don’t need to thank me, ‘zuku” you giggle; “I mean it. I’d be ready and willing to do this anytime for you—and maybe Mr. grouchy out there too.” The joke was stupid, but it somehow managed to pull a small and sweet laugh from both of you. “Come on, you know how he gets when we take too long.” You whisper against the skin of his cheek before placing a kiss there.

Hand in hand, the two of you stroll out of the bathroom and into the dining room where your shared partner had been waiting patiently—to the best of his ability. The blonde hadn’t even started eating as he waited, his ruby eyes finally gazing up at your figures.

“Sit” he croaks, nodding towards the vacant chairs around the table and the two of you do so, hands straying as you go to take a seat at the dinner table. All Katsuki does is glare at both of you before directing you to eat and threatening to force-feed you if you choose not to. You chortle and shake your head as you pick up your silverware and start eating.

You know he meant well with his statement and is just concerned about the well-being of his lovers, but his way of conveying that is...questionable. “Thank you, Katsuki.” You hum before putting your food in your mouth. The blonde just grunts and glances over at Izuku to make sure he’d been eating as well before ultimately letting himself eat.

There weren’t many conversations shared at the dinner table as you all ate tonight, but the three of you still remained—comfortably seated around the table, sitting in silence.

The three of you were in bed now, trying to go to sleep—a task Izuku seemed to be struggling with as he squirmed where he lay, nestled between the both of you. He was hard, so painfully hard—so much so that he thinks he might combust.

His breathing grew shaky with every passing second, till eventually, he gave in—he snuck a hand down his pants, grabbing hold of his shaft somewhat tightly as a poorly repressed whine left the cusps of his lips.

Quickly he slaps a hand over his mouth in an attempt to silence his whimpers and for a moment it works—at least he thinks it does before your eyes flutter open. “‘Zuku? Are you alright–” Your groggy inquiry is cut short as you peer down at where his other hand had been. A tired smile flourishes on your lips as you gaze back into his eyes with heavy-lidded ones. “Want some help with that?” You chuckle softly as you move your hand to shroud his.

“Please” was all that slipped from his lips as his cock ached in your grasp. “I got you, baby, don’t worry.” You whisper into the fat of his cheek as you leave a feather-light peck on the freckled skin. 

His taut, sleek belly shuddered with each languid stroke, each sloppy kiss on his neck, it was almost too much. You glance at him once more, kissing the hand he had clamped to his face before gently moving it away so you can capture his lips in a long, drugging kiss.

Those soft pink lips of his are now a beautifully swollen, slick mess that your tongue sweetly invades. You drink in his blissful moans like water as you move to straddle one of his muscular thighs, your core shivering at the stimulation of his leg grazing against your clothed clit.

“‘M gonna cum…hah, oh fuck—’m gonna cum!” Izuku gasped, his body shaking violently as he spilled himself in your hand. He bit down on his lip to somehow repress his cries, but your lips ensnared his with an infectious fervor in hopes of suppressing his noises until his orgasm subsided.

“You couldn’t wait till morning?” A gruff voice grumbled, rubbing at his ruby eyes before glaring at the two of you—both of you sitting there like a deer caught in headlights. The blonde lets out a tired huff as he shuffles out of bed and moves to the foot of the bed, his scarlet hues are tired yet hungry as he gazes at the both of you. “C’mere.” Katsuki coos, nodding over to you.

Slowly, you slide off of Izuku’s meaty thigh before you crawl over to the man towering over the bed, his hand sun-warm as it cups your cheek. “Clothes off for me, yeah?” The question seeps from behind his lips like honey, yet the firmness in his tone lingers—making the question seem more like a gentle demand.

You oblige, shimmying out of your t-shirt and panties before the blonde pulls you into a searing kiss—soft but voracious. And as the both of you part from the warmth of each other’s lips, he whispers against your kiss-bitten lips, “Be a good girl for me and sit on his cock,” his thumb caressing the plush skin as he continues. “And don’t move till I say so.”

His eyes carefully watched your every move as you turned to face your speckled lover before hovering over his rigid shaft that’d been prettily coated in the slickness of his orgasm.

Choppy breaths were now caught in your throat as you eased yourself down onto him—the viridescent-haired man released short, shallow gasps with every inch of him you took before you finally buried him to the hilt, causing him to harshly suck in a breath from the overstimulation.

There’s a faint dip in the bed as Katsuki presses his body close to yours, kneeling on the mattress between Izuku’s legs. You feel the warmth radiate from his muscular frame and his signature caramel scent followed close by, his coarse hands gently kneading at your honey-soft breasts, occasionally flicking at the velvet nubs that center them.

It’s hard not to squirm as the silky touch of a tongue slid over every mark that the blonde left in his wake—your neck and shoulders, nothing but a canvas in his eyes. One of his coarse hands glides down the expanse of your torso—slipping from the soft ampleness of your tits, to tease at your clit. Your body jolts in his hands—eliciting an amused huff from him.

© zujime. all rights reserved. do not translate, copy, modify, repost or claim any of my works on any platform as yours.

[inkwell-intermission]

//caps, silliness

I saved the reblog in the drafts for now bc I got insecure about my tags and decided to leave them for later anyway I think I'll now send an ask too

I love your ref and your headcanons so much

YOUR SCOFF HAS A BAD KNEE AND USES A CANE. MY SCOUT HAS BAD KNEES AND USES A CANE (bc I've got bad knees and use a cane and SS is my blorbo).

Your Scoff. My Scout. CANE FIGHT. Deadeye and Innovator are facepalming x4 combo in the background. Demo is asking Brawler if there's a fourth cane user around because he wants to canefight too. Scout probably loses, not because Scoff has shadow magic but because Scoff's got one bad knee and Scout's got both.

3. Am I taking it correctly that in your mobswitch TS are "still" Prospitians and MC are still Dersites? Yay!!!!!!!!!! (If I'm being mistaken please don't think I'm fuck I can't pick a good word let's say judging for now you for it)

Thank you!!!!!

That would be great and accurate, Delinquent might simply try to remove a cane-shaped object from the ground and use that instead, making the fight much higher stakes if one is bludgeoned with half a lamppost lmaoo. Scoff walks with and without his cane often but usually carries it as an accessory when he isn't, it would be better for his overall health if he used it all the time, but he obviously can't walk on it when he's currently hitting people with it, and sometimes goes without for appearances sake or convenience- he's very worried about appearances and sometimes worries he'll be seen as weaker for walking with the cane, but the concern is kinda misplaced considering he can just like. beat someone to death with it if they don't take him seriously. But hes so anxious about it that even that logic doesn't help

Yes!!!! I think some people make them switch planets, which seems.... weird to me. Lik it feels kind of unnecessary and arbitrary to me, and I think it's a lot more interesting to figure out how slight changes of events would have drastically changed their personal trajectories than to just. Make a change like that. I also personally think its a bit flattening, like Prospitan good guys and Dersite bad guys. That's just not the case, definitely if you consider WV, AR, and PM, who are all of similar alignment and come from different planets. I also just like exploring how Prospit isn't all that great after all- for example, I don't think they take prisoners of war- it's usually interrogations followed by executions. Which makes sense to me from a gameplay standpoint- If your comrade as a player is captured by the enemy, it would feel unfair if they just killed them immediately- you should get a chance to rescue them. But the bad guys don't need to be afforded such a luxury- you get the information out of the spies you catch, and then get rid of them. It may seem to players that this means prison, but behind the scenes I think Prospitans can be fairly ruthless as a war force, because they're so serious about helping the players and ensuring the frog's creation, while i think Derse kind of knows the field of play is unequal, and has a slightly looser strictness in terms of allowing silly bullshit all the way up the chain. They play the villains, and definitely know it, so they have a bit of fun with it. Prospitans play to *win*, which is one reason why they'd take horrorterrors so seriously as a risk that cannot be allowed to propagate on their planet, y'know? I really like exploring Derse and Prospit in general, mobswitch is a fun way to do that, my Innovator and Scoff especially have some stuff from there that haunts them. tldr i think the Prospit/Derse switch is arbitrary and misplaced, maybe theres a way to do it well but its just not my style to make decisions like that for no substantial reason this response is a little long and im sorry for that but i really appreciate the chance to talk more about these guys! I made another post with more fun facts about Scoff here also in case you wanted to peep the horror, i super appreciate your ask and hope this isnt too long to read

[my-digi-life]

CW: Talks of Ed history and negative relationship with food

LOL not me saying I don’t want this to be ablog about my weight and my eating only to write another post about my relationship with food. 

I’m not tracking my calories of anything, instead I’m doing kind of an intuitive eating thing; only eating when I actually feel hungry, eating slower, and stopping when I’m full. That probably sounds so easy and simple and maybe it should be, but I’ve spent my whole life ignoring hunger cues, whether that means overeating or undereating. I’ve struggled with it both because I’ve dealt with eating disorders since adolescence, but also because I have autism. 

There’s been some studies to show that neurodivergent folks don’t recognize bodily cues the same as neurotypical people. 

My issue is though whenever I “diet” or try to make these life style changes I slip back into disordered thinking around food. I’m trying to fight those as best as I can by checking in with my body. When I want to snack or overeat, I ask myself, “am I actually hungry right now or am I just bored?”. I’ve also found myself feeling hungry and telling myself it can wait or “oh dinner will be in a few hours, I don’t need to eat right now”, but why should I wait to eat if I’m hungry now? I can have a snack to hold me until dinner. 

As someone who struggled with a restrictive eating disorder as well as a overinduglent one, I existed on ED Tumblr for years before I got better. Along with the disordered thinking, I’ve had thoughts of getting back on that side of tumblr even though I know it would only do more harm then good. I find myself wanting to do this when I’m hungry instead of actually eating a meal, but I haven’t given in yet and I have 0 intention of actually doing it. Instead of doom scrolling through the ED tags, I’ll eat if I’m hungry and afterward, I’ll play a word search game on my phone to keep my occupied until I forget I ever wanted to do that. 

In the end, I think I just need to continue practicing to shut down thoughts of skipping meals or eating when I’m not hungry. It’s going to be a trial in telling that irrational side of my brain that I deserve a good relationship with food and that this is how we do that. 

Sort of related;Do you guys know Abby Sharp? I freaking love her and her content. In the past, her content did a lot to change my thought patterns. She’s the one who taught me there’s no such thing as good or bad food, only food with more or less nutrional density. That simple thought process really helped my relationship with food because my restrictive eating disorder always made me believe if I was going to eat it needed to be “good” food and that I wasn’t allowed to have anything else.

I’m learning to juggle snacky, less nutritionally dense foods with more nutritionally dense foods as well as learning what types of food keep me full longer.

Hum and kiss from your friend,

PS. Peep the slight change to the pink in my graphics

[goldenkirstein]

aot band! au headcanons pt. 2:

pt. one here

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

pairing: connie x fem! reader, mikasa x fem! reader, armin x fem! reader

wc: 1.2k+

cw: smut (18+ minors DNI), reader has female anatomy, dumbification (?), dacryphilia, squirting, degradation, daddy kink mention, , impact play, slight exhibitionism, collaring, oral sex ( f + m receiving), fingering, slight dubcon.

a/n: this is a repost i changed some stuff, will i ever be satisfied? probably not, but here it is part two. any feedback is appreciated !!

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

smut under the cut

connie springer:

Connie is on drums

His arms are covered in tattoos, and he has snake bite piercings. The tattoos are coloured, and like Eren, pretty cohesive. Most of them are New school style, his favourite piece being an octopus covering his upper arm.

When he performs, he’s usually shirtless, sweat dripping down his body. He stands up on his stool when he finishes a set before taking a bow, his chest heaving and a lazy grin on his face as he shoots you a wink.

His hands are rough and calloused; frequently after shows, you are found tending to his bruised knuckles, scolding him for his carelessness on stage; he says he can’t help that he gets too lost in the music, among other cheesy things that leave you rolling your eyes at him.

He wears bracelets, maybe a ring or two. His favourite is a small handmade bracelet that you made, which sits on his left wrist. He loves seeing how happy you get when you see him wearing it while he performs.

After shows, he gets caught up with fans and his bandmates, but he never lingers for too long, knowing that you’re waiting for him backstage. He loves pulling you into a hug and hearing your protest that he’s so sweaty, but it only makes him tighten his grip around your waist and press his growing bulge against your center, silencing you effectively.

While Connie loves the noises the crowd makes, what he loves more is the way you mewl and whimper for him while he fucks you deeper into the couch.

He’s addicted to the way you dig your nails into his arm, eyes screwing shut when he ruts into your sopping cunt. Your fucked out expression spurring him on to whisper in your ear, “cockdrunk already, princess? I just got started with you.”

Connie likes to lift up your tiny band shirt, giving him a perfect view of your tits; he jerks his cock a few times before he cums with his head thrown back, shooting ropes of his hot seed over your chest. He loves dragging his fingers over pert nipples, collecting his cum, only for him to slide his fingers in your mouth and watch as you diligently suck his digits clean.

mikasa ackerman:

Lead vocalist of the band.

She doesn’t have many tattoos; you can occasionally get a glimpse of the ink when her skirt rides up a little when she’s getting lost in the music.

Mikasa brushes off the comments she gets after shows, fans wondering if she’s dating any of the boys, always answering with a laugh.

You can’t help but feel a little possessive of your Mikasa; she doesn’t notice how the men in the crowd look at her with hunger in their eyes. Little do they know that it’s your fingers that she comes undone on every night.

Sometimes after shows, you’ll have her withering underneath you on the upholstered seats of the tour bus as she cries out in pleasure. The fans’ screaming from before is replaced by the squelching of her wet cunt as your fingers scissor in and out.

She looks like a work of art underneath you, her cute little pussy spread open, clamping down desperately around your digits. Her whimpers fill the bus, tear-filled eyes looking up at you, “p-please let me cum, baby, ‘m a good girl, your good girl.” What kind of girlfriend would you be if you denied her sweet pleas?

Watching her cum, leaves you in a trance. Her legs tremble, and her back arches from the seat as you continue to pump your fingers in and out of her gushing hole; you continue until she’s a twitchy mess pushing your hand away from her sore overstimulated cunt.

Mikasa also has a tongue piercing; she got it as a dare after a celebratory night of drinks when their band headlined the biggest venue in the city. You can catch glimpses of it while she performs, the silver ball peeping out from her delicate mouth. She knows the effect it has on you.

She lives off of your praise, cherishing the way you sigh out in pleasure and call her your perfect angel when she gives your clit kitten licks before sucking on it.

One incident in which Mikasa thought she could be slick was to use a vibrating piercing while eating you out. The vibrations paired with her fingers curling into your sweet spot sent ripples of pleasure across your body, the pressure building in your abdomen until it became too much, and you let out a silent scream, your thighs tensing around Mikasa’s head.

It wasn’t until you came down from your high, you realized that her face was wet; she only gave you a shy smile in response before licking her lips. Needless to say, that wasn’t the last time she used that piercing on you.

armin arlert:

He plays the keys and occasionally is on vocals.

During their performances, he’s usually on the side of the stage, never truly attracting attention to himself. He’s immensely talented and wants people to praise him for that, rather than how he looks or on fancy tricks he does on stage.

However, there is one person he does look for in the crowd, your usually pretty easy for Armin to spot; all he has to do is look for the pink collar with a heart shape “O” ring resting delicately around your throat.

The other boys often joke around how Armin is so pussy whipped, teasing him that the sex is probably vanilla and that he’s probably never made you cum before. Armin doesn’t take the comments to heart; he just laughs and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, if only they knew.

Armin doesn’t linger around fans for too long after shows; he usually goes straight into the green room, where you’re always sitting waiting for him, hands under your thighs. He coos at you, telling you how pretty you looked in the crowd. You bat your eyelashes up at him, mustering out a “thank you, daddy.”

Unlike his other bandmates, he doesn’t have any tattoos but unbeknownst to anybody else, except you, he has nipple piercings.

He loves it when you spend extra time kissing, licking and nibbling at his chest, tongue circling one of his nipples, your hand tweaking the other piercing. Worshipping his chest like the obedient girl you are.

Armin is the jealous type; if he catches you with the other boys, he won’t hesitate to pull you into a room to teach you a lesson.

This is how you end up lying across his lap; skirt hiked up as he delivers spank after spank on your sore ass cheeks, his tone unforgiving as he kneads your ass, “eyeing up the other guys, hmm? I look away for one minute, and you’re already whoring yourself out to them.”

Afterwards, he’ll pull you into his lap, whispering gently in your ear how good you are and that he’s only looking out for you. He brushes away your tears planting kisses all over your body before sliding his cock between your folds to give you your reward for being a good girl for him.

a/n: hope this sounded good, ik i posted this earlier, but i didn't like it, hopefully its better this time around hjghj

taglist: @clean-soap, @dai-tsukki-desu, @glittrkink

click here for my taglist

as always, if you enjoyed, leave a like/reblog, i truly appreciate it <33

[passport-guardian-benrey]

Comic' nightmares

A story written with @neon--nightmare as Fresh, about 11 Year old Comic having a nightmare and Fresh having to deal with that

---------------------------------------------------

Comic woke up suddenly in the middle of the night, their breathing is a bit uneven, they're shaking and tears are streaming down their cheekbones, they tried wiping them away, after that they found their glasses and got out of bed, the small skeleton slowly went towards Fresh' room

In the pitch blackness, Fresh creaked one eye open wearily, his single pupil setting a faint white glow across his face. The parasite sat up and rubbed his eyes, not bothering to reach for his shades for now. He’d just been fast asleep, dreamless, for once, so he couldn’t imagine what had woken him up, but... Fresh had an inkling as to why, and he usually trusted his instincts.

Silently, Fresh stood up, lifting his glasses from his beside, and slipping them on as he went. He opened his door, took a step... and quite literally bumped into Comic, catching himself by surprise.

”C-brah?”

Comic looked up at him, They look scared, they wiped the tears from their face again, "I-I . . ." They started crying more.

Fresh mentally froze. He’d had a sense something was wrong with Comic, but... Crying??? He didn’t know how to deal with crying! But, obviously Comic wasn’t hurt, so... Yeah, never mind, not actually bad. Fresh crouched down on one knee, casting his mind back to what he’d seen other people do on TV.

”Hey... What’s wrong, lil broski? Somethin’ happenin wit’ ya?”

"I-I h-had a n-nightm-mare . . ." Comic said it while wiping their tears again, their voice was cracking.

”Shhh, shhh.” Fresh wiped a tear off Comic’s cheek, and flicked it away.

”It’s aight, C-dawg, I’m here, I’m here. Ya know it ain’t... Real, yeah? No point ta worryin’ all up about things that ain’t gonna happen.” Of course, Fresh neglected to mention his own nightmares, and how he sometimes snapped awake in a cold sweat, silently heaving for air. That was dumb, and hey, it wasn’t real! Fresh trusted Comic as much as he was capable of, but he still wasn’t in the habit of giving out his... ‘weaknesses’ all willy-nilly.

Suddenly Comic hugged Fresh, hiding their face in Fresh' clothes, "Th-they h-hurt me a-again . . . it h-hurt s-so m-much . . ." They're still shaking.

Fresh frowned, the letters on his glasses flickering briefly, before he wrapped his arms around Comic in turn, rubbing his back. Yeah, this may have been... more than he’d signed up for.

”Hey, hey. Dey ain’t here any more, lil brah. ‘S just you an me, yo! Jus’ all up Fresh an’ Comic, see! Nobody else here.” He went to rub Comic’s head, and thought better of it at the last moment; yeah, if he still thought his bullies were in the house with him, best not to go near the wound they left. Fresh felt a slight twinge in his gut, at that, but shoved it away.

”’Ey, I got a RADICAL idea, homeslice!! How ‘bout we all up go on a walk o’ da place, just ta up an PROVE dey ain’t here?? An’, ya know, even if some unfresh burglar-brah is here ta steal all ya snacks, I’M here ta protect ya~!!” He grinned down at Comic, lifting up his shades with one hand to give a wink.

"O-okay . . ." Comic is trying to calm down, they're still a bit shaky

In one swift movement, Fresh scooped Comic up in his arms, bridal-style, and his grin widened. ”C’mon, C-dawg, lead da way! Where ya wanna go first?”

After a brief moment, he added, ”We can walk an’ talk at da same time, by da way. If ya want~!”

Comic flinched a bit when they were picked up, "B-back to m-my r-room f-for now . . ."

That caught Fresh a bit off guard for a moment, but he managed to mask it quickly, barely letting a shred of surprise cross his face.

”Aiiight, back ta da room it is!! You’re da bus driver here, ya ridin’ on da FRESH EXPRESS! <3” And with that, still carrying the smaller skeleton, Fresh skipped his way back to Comic’s room, oblivious to Comic’s discomfort.

Comic is holding onto him, when they entered the room, the small skeleton looked around and wanted to be put down when they saw their scarf

Fresh set Comic down gently, still keeping a close eye on him. ”Dere ya go, lil brah, go get it. Ya feelin’ any better now?”

Comic took the scarf and wrapped it around their neck, then they went back to Fresh, "a little b-bit . . ." They're not crying anymore, but they are still a bit shaky

”PERFECT, yo!!! Hold on a sec~!” Fresh scooped up Comic once more, then looked around.

”Ya still want dat house tour, or d’ya just wanna up an crash here fo’ now? Ya look MAD wiped out, lil broski.”

"We c-could go around . . ." Comic then yawned quietly

”Ya wish is mah command, yo! Maybe I can, hmm...” Fresh trailed off for a moment, thinking. Then he walked over to Comic’s bed, snatching a pillow off and positioning it in the crook of his arm, so the other skeleton had somewhere that wasn’t bone to lay his head.

”Lil cozier now?”

Comic put their head on the pillow, "y-yeah . . ."

”BAM, SLEEPYTIME CENTRAL!!!” Fresh grinned excitedly, completely ignoring the irony of how loud he usually talked.

”So... Are ya thirsty, huh? Wit’ all dat cryin’, I’m surprised ya ain’t all lookin up like a piece o’ dried jerky right now, ah hahaha!” Fresh beamed at his own joke, the YOLO on his shades glowing slightly in the dark.

Comic chuckled quietly at the joke, "I c-could drink something . . ."

”Rad!!! Hold on just a sec, homedawg, we gonna get HYDRATED up in here!!!” Fresh nestled him closer and headed off in the direction of the kitchen, more slowly this time.

”Now, I ain’t all sure what time it is an’ junk, so I ain’t sure if it’s early enough in da mornin’ fo’ breakfast... I know some peeps up an’ chug warm milk ta get ‘emselves ta sleep an all dat, how’s it soundin’ ta ya? Plus, ya get dat sicknasty CALCIUM in ya diet!! Wicked strong BONES, yo, ya gonna be liftin’ towers in no time!!” Fresh was mostly talking to fill the silence, people did that, right? They’ve gotten this far already, no point in letting Comic’s mind wander back to his nightmares.

"It sounds nice . . ." Comic is rather calm now, they closed their eyesockets

Fresh chuckled softly, pulling up to the kitchen. Balancing Comic steadily, making sure there was as little jostling as possible, Fresh poured the skeleton a cup of milk, kicking the fridge shut and popping the half-full mug into the microwave. Hey, he didn’t want Comic to spill it on either of their clothes on the way back!

The gentle whirring of the microwave filled the quiet kitchen as they waited for the beep, a warm orange light washing over the two. Comic’s eyes were closed, but Fresh continued to smile down at him. It’d be so easy to just possess him like this, with his guard down... But, no, there was no point in it yet. This whole debacle would go a long way in gaining Comic’s trust, Fresh was willing to bet, and that was more than useful enough to justify the work he’d went through.

Besides, he’d gathered a lot of information... Namely that, yes, the incident continued to affect him deeply, something that Fresh already knew - but it was very interesting to see the extent of how deeply. It wasn’t often the parasite had a front seat to this sort of thing... And to see how Fresh was the first one Comic went to for comfort was hilarious, considering the reason Fresh had stuck around in the first place! There were so many possibilities... But, no, he wouldn’t play his hand too soon. He wanted to see where this was going, first! And all the things that trust could lead to...

The microwave dinged, jolting Fresh out of his thoughts. He gently eased the door open and pulled the steaming mug out with one hand, nudging Comic gently. ”Ya still awake in dere, lil brah...? Milk’s up!”

Comic looked at him, they're a bit sleepy

”Aw... Nothin’? Well, I guess da milk can wait a lil. Dey call it WARM milk, not steamin’ milk, after all~!”

Still holding both the mug and Comic, Fresh turned heel and headed back to the bedroom, making sure none of the liquid sloshed out as they went. When they arrived, Fresh gently plopped his cargo down onto the bed, leaving the mug on the nightstand and tucking Comic in. Once that was done, Fresh plopped down next to him, the mattress creaking slightly under the sudden weight.

”All tucked in, an’ wit’ somethin’ ta drink when ya wake up!! How ya feelin’ now, lil homie?” Fresh grinned, obviously proud of himself and his handiwork.

"better . . . Thank you" Comic smiled slightly at him

”Haha... No problem, C-slice. Ya can always count on me, aight~?” Fresh had been planning to leave and wait for Comic to call him back, but he thought better of it; instead, he climbed into bed next to Comic, tucking himself in and placing his shades safely besides him. The other skeleton had seen the parasite many times without his glasses, after all, though, luckily, never asked why his “eyelight” was cracked like that.

Also, Fresh hadn’t had the time to change out of his pajamas in the first place, so it was perfect! Who said that only kids could wear dinosaur-patterned sleep pants? Nobody, that’s who. Fresh sighed and nestled himself in, closing his eyes - although, if anything happened, he was always a light sleeper. For now, though, he highly doubted Comic could do any harm to him... and with that, Fresh was out.

Comic looked at Fresh, they decided to cuddle up to him, they closed their eyes and tried to go back to sleep.

[pradaksj]

Break Up With Your Girlfriend, I’m Bored (m.)

♤ pairing: jungkook/reader

♤ genre: 1920′s au, burlesque/clubsinger!reader, infidelity au , angst, smut.

♤ rating: mature

♤ word count: 17,000+

♤ warnings: infidelity/affair [plays a big role in story so please do not read if the topic makes you feel uncomfortable, hint: y/n is not the one getting cheated on LOL], A LOT of angst lol the smut is just an add on to the story basically, explicit language, cigar smoking, degradation, pet names, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (2), dirty talk, unprotected sex, rough sex, sub!reader, teasing dom!jungkook, slight dry humping, mirror sex, fingering, hair pulling, cockwarming, marking, edging, nipple/breast worship, pussy eating, spanking, light choking, possession kink.

♤ summary: Once you were on that stage you were someone completely different, the manifestation of someone’s secret desire, becoming whatever image had of you in their head. Some days you were the innocent girl next door, other days the good girl gone wild, but the days he came you became what you had been for the past year, the other woman.

━ ❝  You got me some type of way, ain’t used to feelin’ this way. I do not know what to say, but I know I shouldn’t think about it. Took one fuckin’ look at your face, now I wanna know how you taste… You can say I’m hatin’ if you want to, but I only hate on her 'cause I want you. .❞

♤ thank u next series masterlist

♤ author’s note: i got the idea to make this story 20’s themed after rewatching 2 Chainz ft Ariana Grande’s which you can watch ☞ here, while the storyline itself is loosely inspired by her song break up with your girlfriend, i’m bored. You can also reference this video ☞ here to see what I reference in terms of style when I say burlesque dancer and what y/n and her coworkers encapsulate because I personally hate the flapper era style LOL, i’m more of a hollywood glam person, so finding this video was a godsend.  

Also fun fact, the Hollywood sign was originally built reading “Hollywoodland” in 1923, which is why it’s referred to as that in this story, it wasn’t until 1949 that “land” was removed. and because i’m setting this story in the mid to late 1920’s, Hollywood is barely establishing its reputation as the land of dreams and heartbreak & alcohol was illegal in the 20’s which is why i refer to Joon’s job as “illegal” lol .

comment, send an anon, like, reblog, and most importantly enjoy! 🤍 

“She’s the girl of your dreams, the sugar to your spice, give a warm welcome to Miss Lola de Ville,” Al’s voice booms across the club. Peeping your head out the curtains, you try your best not to be seen as you scan the audience, until finally you spot what you’re looking for. Immediately you feel your heart skip a beat.

Quickly giddying your way back to Mina’s dressing room, you could feel the anticipation and joy bubbling in your stomach, “He’s here tonight,” you sing, leaning against her door frame, watching her as she did her makeup.

She’s quick to roll her eyes, “Oh when isn’t he,” she says, fixing her lipstick, “he sure does awfully love your performances it seems,” a blush appears on your cheeks, “Is she with him tonight?” she queries, you quietly nod your head no. “And what song are you performing tonight little miss Y/N?” she asks, changing the topic once she sees your face of uncomfort.  

Immediately your eyes light up, “Al’s been playing these songs by some man named Louis Armstrong on the record player all week, and oh how I love his voice, and the lyrics he sings!” you gush.

“Oh tell me about it, he’s going to have to buy himself another vinyl if he keeps playing it the amount of times he does already, it’ll be all scratched up by the end of the week,” she pessimistically says, causing you to shrug. It wasn’t like Al didn’t have the money to buy as many as he’d like, this club of his was bringing him bank.  

“God am I ready to go home,” she complains, taking off the shiny silver ring on her left ring finger and placing it in its case, as men didn’t like giving tips to a woman with a ring on stage.

“How’s the wedding planning going along?” you ask, Mina lets out a dramatic sigh in response.

“Oh you know Joon, he doesn’t like the whole planning aspect of it, so most of it has been in my hands,” she chuckles, “but I know he’s excited, he’s just as much of a romantic as me.”

Namjoon, Mina’s long time fiancé, was not only the illegal bartender of the club you two worked in, but a long time friend of yours, the two of you going back long before he had ever met Mina. In fact it was he who got you this job to begin with, something you’d forever be in his debt for.

Namjoon of course didn’t mind that Mina had to take off her ring because he not only trusted, but respected Mina’s job. Honestly it would’ve been hypocritical for him to be anything but supportive, considering he met her here when he first started working at the club a couple of years ago. At the end of the day he was secure about his relationship, and the person she was coming home to after a night of performing was him and only him.

“Y/N what are you doing here, you go on in five!” a voice interrupts, you turn to see Al with his hands on his hips in a dramatized fashion.

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll be out there right now,” you gulp, grabbing some perfume from Mina’s desk and quickly spritzing it on yourself., “How do I look?” you ask.

“You look good as always,” Mina reassures, despite only glancing at you for no less than a second, “hey and once you’re done tell Joon to have a cocktail ready for me by the time I’m done performing,” you nod, making your way out to the main stage.

“She’s got a voice sent from the heavens above, almost as smooth as a Friday’s glass of whiskey, she can sing, she can dance, she can act, she’s a triple threat of course! And to add to it all, she’s got the face of a doll, give a warm welcome for little miss y/n!”

Slowly, the curtains are pulled open, as you signal to the jazz band to start, another day, another dollar to make. You hear the cheers of men as you slowly take off your fur-made shoulder wrap, teasing the audience in what was hidden underneath. With every holler your ego only grows, knowing that all eyes were on you, including his.

Glancing in his direction, you find him staring at you in the same concentrated, sultry gaze he always did, purposely pouting your lips as you sang. You knew the power you held, the effect you had on those around you. Once you were on that stage you were someone completely different, the manifestation of someone’s secret desire, becoming whatever image they wanted you to be in their head, a figment of their imagination come to life so to speak.

Some days you were the innocent girl next door, other days the good girl gone wild, but the days he came you became what you had been for the past year, the other woman.

Unstrapping the leather of your heel, your feet immediately feel relief, as you kick off the black t-strap heels you had been wearing all night under your vanity desk. Though you loved wearing heels, the constant foot blisters caused by the cheap leather were definitely a downside.

Making yourself comfortable in your seat, you dump out the money from your tip jar, a smile appearing on your lips as you noticed the twenty dollar bill in the pile. Eagerly you grab it, excitedly crisping the sturdy green bill.

“They must've really liked that performance today,” a voice whispers to your ear from behind, catching you by surprise. You were used to him making a knock of some sort. Immediately you feel the tingle of goosebumps now prickling onto your skin, the giddy feeling in your stomach never getting old.

Slowly, he begins to give small pecks on your neck, every kiss lingering longer than the last. His lips then begin to softly suckle on your neck, causing you to push your head back in pleasure.

“Jungkook,” you complain, knowing exactly what he was doing.

“Too bad that tip wasn’t from me,” he shades, clear annoyance coming from his tone. In your distracted state, he snatches the bill from your hands, causing you to immediately get up from your seat in an effort to get it back.

“Hey,” you childishly groan, trying to reach his arm which was now lifted in the air. Seeing that there was no use in trying, you give up. He then relaxes his arm, and begins to inspect the bill, your eyebrow raising at his action.

“What are you—”

He scoffs, rolls his eyes, and suddenly rips the bill into shreds. Eyes widening in shock, you  place a hand over your mouth. But as quick as the shock came, it was replaced by anger even quicker, “What the hell is wrong with you!” you shout, eyebrows now furrowed.

“It was a counterfeit, a fake,” he reiterates, leaving you slightly taken aback, but you try your best not to give a reaction.

“And,” you stutter, “And how are you so sure about that, huh?” you cross your arms, still upset at how sudden his actions were.

“Because this,” he pulls out a twenty-dollar bill from his pocket, “is a real one,” he attempts to hand the bill to you, but is met with resistance on your side.

Pushing his hand away, you scowl, “I don’t want your money, I’ve told you that already,” you huff, feeling a slight tug at your heartstrings, your ego now bruised at both the fact that the bill was fake and that Jungkook felt compelled to replace it for you.

He hugs you from behind, rocking both you and him back and forth, “I know, I know,” he chuckles, “but seeing the way those men kept looking at you,” he pauses, now scowling, “I guess you can say I don’t like what’s mine being spoiled by others,” he ponders causing you to roll your eyes, still in his embrace nonetheless.

“It’s my job,” you jest, “not like I’m sleeping with them,” you shade, a sly smirk now on your face, as you feel his hardened member now rubbing against your ass, a clear sign that you weren’t the only feeling aroused.

“Feisty, huh?” he laughs, his right hand from behind slowly making its way around your neck, softly gripping your smooth skin. Soon enough, he begins to kiss you, your lips parting to let his tongue slowly go down further, the grip on your neck becoming tighter as the kiss deepens.

With his other free hand, he maneuvers under your robe, teasingly grazing over your thigh, almost as if waiting for the green light, “Just say the words,” he whispers into your ear, his fingers now tugging at the hem of your robe.

Without saying anything, you begin to untie it, the silk material dropping to the floor in a matter of seconds, now only in your bra and underwear, you whisper in return, “Fuck me,” and with that he’s quick to release the grip on your neck, turning you to face him. His kisses become sloppy as he signals for you to jump.

Now holding you up by the thighs, you link your arms around his neck as he places you on top of the vanity desk, careful to not push any of your perfume bottles, “I bet those men could only dream of having you like this,” he growls in between kisses, “Take off the bra,” he demands, his fingers now playing with the lace of your underwear.

With no second thought, you unclip the back of your bra, throwing it somewhere across your dressing room, desperate to have him inside you already. With one hand rubbing circles over the lace, the other rolls your hardened nipples in between his fingers, a smirk now plastered onto his face as he hears you trying to suppress your moans.

“Please Jungkook,” you whine, your thighs tightly wrapped against his waist, grinding yourself against his pants. Ignoring you, he sucks on the underside of your jaw, then to your neck, slowly making his way downward, until finally he’s softly sucking on your nipple.

“God that feels so good,” you pant, throwing your head back in complete utter bliss as he marks you, your hand gently tugging at his hair as he elicits the sweetest moans out of your mouth.

“All mine,” he groans, “I’m gonna fuck you so good, gonna have creaming all over my fucking cock,” continuing to suck on your nipples, his finger now slips under your underwear, placing them inbetween your folds, “Already this wet, kitten?” he mocks, “Those men out there have no idea how much of a whore you are,” his fingers begin to move up and down your clit, doing nothing but teasing you.

“Please Jungkook,” your voice shakes, the need to feel something, anything, inside you becoming much too overwhelming. Slowly he sinks his index finger into your pussy, pumping it in and out of you until gradually he slips in another, your wetness making it easy to do so. You arch your back against the vanity’s mirror in pleasure, “Mm, faster Jungkook,” you manage to breathe out, his two fingers soaked with your wetness.

“So tight,” he mutters his pace now quickening at your command, “Look at you, already wanting to cum,” he mocks, “How do you expect to take my cock huh?” he mumbles into your neck, ready to add a third finger, “Answer me,” he demands, bringing his other hand to your neck once again.

“Because,” you’re unable to reply, now feeling your release coming to light,  “I’m boutta—” you whimper, with every movement you feel it coming closer and closer until suddenly he slows his pace, very much denying you from your release only causing you to let out a cry in complaint, the pressure that had built up immediately slowing down, “Jungkook,” you whine.

“You didn’t answer me,” he teases, pulling your underwear off, now having you completely undressed. Getting on his knees, he parts your legs wide open, your pussy being nothing but a glorious sight to him. Gently he swipes his finger across your sensitive folds, knowing that your senses were heightened from the denial, “Such a pretty pussy,” he teases, now rubbing circles onto your clit, “I bet you taste so good,” he pulls his finger away, suckling on the wetness that coated his finger, “so it does,” he says.

“Use your tongue,” you needily whisper, not sure at how long you’d be able to handle all the teasing, “please,” you cry, hoping that he’d do something soon. He drops wet, messy, kisses along your thighs, your skin now prickling in anticipation. He was purposely taking his time, finding pleasure at your squirming. A part of you just wants to push his head for your selfish reasons, but you knew that it’d get you nowhere because at the end of the day he was in full control, and you would just have to deal with the pleasurable torture.

With every kiss, suckle, and lick, you could practically feel yourself trembling, “Please Jungkook,” you beg, but he only hums in response, continuing with his wicked game of torture. Unable to control yourself, you let go of his hair, now maneuvering your hand to your pussy in a desperate effort to soothe the ache that had long been built up.

But just as you’re about to begin to pleasure yourself, his own reflexes are quick to grab you by the hand, roughly pushing it down onto the desk in an effort to stop you, “Mm mm mm,” he coos, “A slut like you doesn’t get to be in control, remember that kitten,” he sings, making a nodding motion with his finger.

Soon enough, you feel his warm tongue on your clit, licking and sucking through your folds, his index finger rubbing at your clit all at the same time. “Oh my God, right there,” you moan, the tension you felt immediately being released as he indulged himself further into your folds, pumping his finger back into your pussy once more, this time rubbing at your g-spot, your folds completely soaked with both your fluids and his saliva. Your orgasm once again was building up and as a result your pussy clenched around his fingers, your muscles going limp as you knew it was coming closer.

“You’re gonna cum for me, kitten?” you vigorously nod your head in response, physically squirming at his words, “Cum for me,” he breathes out, the euphoric feeling overcoming you, as you felt the waves of your orgasm hit, leg trembling at the sensation. Immediately he begins to plant soft kisses among your thighs, softly caressing you as you came down from your high.

He gets up from his knees, beginning to gently place kisses onto your cheek, “What a good girl,” he teases, going in to kiss you. You place your hand at the back of his head as you deepen the kiss, transforming the kiss to nothing but tongue and saliva. The two of you now making out on the vanity once again, his hardened cock rubbing against your bare pussy, the fabric of his pants acting as the only barrier in between.

He groans once you playfully you graze your other hand over the fabric, the idea of having his cock filling you up only exciting you, “I need you to fuck me,” you whisper into his ear, arousal dripping from every word as you played with the waistband of his pants.

“Is that what you want, kitten?” he asks, now unbuttoning his pants, and pulling out his thick, large cock, “Such a little whore, singing and dancing for those men,” he seethes, the look of jealousy presently on his face, “if only they could hear the way you squirm for me,” he chuckles, “just how needy and desperate you become for my cock,” you gasp as you feel his head now teasing the slit of your entrance, “How I have you moaning my name,” he whispers, suckling at the nip of your neck.  

“Put it in already,” you whine, ready to have his cock thrusting in and out of you, and so with that he slowly pushes his head which was covered in pre-cum into your hole, your wetness from earlier making it easy for him to slip it in, while your hot walls take him in with ease just as the many nights before, but still the pressure of the stretch was something you’d never get used to.

“So fucking tight,” he grunts, impusivley pulling your hair from the back as his girth pushed it’s way inside of you, taking a moment to allow the two of you to adjust, his cock now buried deep within you, “Tell me when you’re ready Y/N,” he sincerely says, having seen the momentary look of discomfort on your face.

Nodding once you were ready, he begins to slowly thrust, the items you had on the vanity beginning to jump at the sudden movement of the desk. Your moans and the squelching sound from the movement of his cock and your wetness now fill the room, his pace quickening with every deep thrust.

“Oh fuck—” you cry, his own grunts and moans mixing with yours.

“This is my pussy, you got that?” all you can do is nod in response, his thrust getting harder and sloppier, until suddenly he stops, “Turn around and bend over the desk,” he commands, pulling out and pumping his girth with his hand, not wanting to lose momentum.

It was shocking really, the countless number of times you two have fucked in between show sets, prior, and after, and each and every time it felt as good and exciting as the first time.

Eagerly you turn around, laying your stomach flat on top of the vanity’s surface, your dripping soaked pussy in full view for him, the cold air of the room along with the lack of fullfiness in your cunt causing you to let out a small whine, desperate to have Jungkook’s cock warm you up again, “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs to himself, looking at your face from the reflection in the mirror as he began to stuff your pussy with his cock once again.

He begins to thrust again, each one feeling fuller than the last, “Fuck Jungkook,” you cry, his cock now hitting your g-spot in this position, “Faster baby,” the friction from his steady rythym now wasn’t enough, as you felt another orgasm incoming.

“Faster?” he asks, “You said it,” he laughs, now pounding against your walls at a pace that was so overwhelming, you were almost sure that anyone within ten yards could probably hear you. “You nasty little slut, just look at yourself,” he groans, yanking you by the hair and forcing you to look at the reflection of yourself in the mirror in front of you, “I’m the only one who gets to fuck you like this,” he quickens his his pace, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room, “And only me, you got that?” all you could do was moan in response, resulting in a hard spank to your ass, “Answer me!” he groans, as you grip onto the corners of your vanity’s desk, his cock pounding harder and harder within your walls every passing second.  

“Mmhm only you Jungkook!” you cry, placing your hand on the mirror, trying not to lose balance of yourself, “I’m so close,” you manage to breathe out, the tight feeling in your abdomen signaling that you were going to cum any moment, his breathy moans also telling you that he was close to bottoming out as well.

He tilts down, the sounds of his panting now directly behind your ear, “That’s my girl,” he whispers, pushing your hair away from your neck to give you a small kiss. Seconds later, your vision goes white as you feel the final rush of stimulation washing over you, as he quickly pulls out and pumps his own release onto your back. The two of you now catching your breath, completely exhausted.

He buttons his pants back up, grabbing your things from the floor as well as a towel from your rack, gently cleaning you up as you remain in your position, too tired to even stand. “Come on,” he whispers, gently pulling you from behind so that he could pick you up, your body always feeling completely limp post-orgasm, add the fact that this was post-work as well, you had every reason to be tired.

Placing you on the small love-seat couch you had in your dressing room, which was generally used for—nevermind that, he helps dress you, guiding your legs through the underwear holes, laughing at your groans whenever you’d miss. “Come on, stop being lazy,” he teases, only resulting in another groan from you. You cross your arms again and pout like a kid, a huge grin now on his face. Gently, he cups your face, playfully squishing your cheeks in the process, just like he always does, only causing you to roll your eyes.

“Why do you always do that?” you manage to say, his hands still squeezing the life out of your cheeks.

“Because it’s cute,” he gives you a peck on the lips before finally letting them go, allowing you to place your robe back on, “You’re cute,” he nuzzles into your neck, the two of you to falling back on the couch, as he then begins to tickle you.

“Stop,” you begin to hysterically laugh, his fingers prancing around the sides of your stomach, “Jun—Jungkook stop,” you breathe out, a toothy grin on his face as he attempted to avoid your playful kicks.

To any other person, this loving moment between you two would cause nothing of the suspicion, hell, they’d probably even mistake the golden band on his finger as the sacrament of your holy matrimony. It was moments like these where you questioned where your relationship with the married man stood, where you’d ask yourself at what point had the line blurred between only doing this for fun and actually having feelings?

Slowly Jungkook stops tickling you once he notices that your laughs had begun to die down, and your face had become serious,“Hey what’s wrong?” he asks with genuine concern in his voice.

You shake your head, not wanting to dwell on your thoughts too much, “It’s nothing really,” you give him a small smile.  Momentarily he stares at you, seeming unconvinced by your answer.

“Let’s go home?” you stare at him wide-eyed, home?

“Wait what?”

“I asked if you’d like me to take you home?” he chuckles, though you knew you must’ve heard him wrong, the sinking feeling in your heart hurt just as much, a part of you secretly hoping that you were wrong.

“Oh um,” you respond, “no it’s fine Jungkook, I’ll just um,” you run a hand through your hair, “I’ll just ask Joon, I think he should still be cleaning up, and Mina is probably bored waiting,” you force a laugh. He furrows his eyebrows, unsure about leaving you here, but relents nonetheless.

“Hm, okay then,” he says, giving you a departing kiss on the cheek, “I’ll see you soon, alright?” you nod your head, the forced smile on your face quickly dropping the moment he walks out the door.  

“You sure are loud, Namjoon was complaining about wanting ear muffs while he cleans,” Mina laughs, now entering your dressing room, Jungkook having left several minutes ago. She expects you to laugh like you usually do, or even throw a smart remark in return, but instead you remain silent, staring at your reflection in the vanity’s mirror. Your eyes were puffy from crying, because in those minutes that Jungkook had left, a feeling of shame had washed over you. “Hey, what’s wrong kiddo?” she walks towards you, quickly grabbing a tissue from the tissue box you had on your desk, beginning to wipe the run down mascara from your cheeks, softly running her other hand through your hair in an effort to comfort you.

Sniffling, you shake your head in refusal to talk, “Hey, come on, you know you can tell me anything,” she reassures, “It’s better to let things out, than to have it build up,” she frowns, the sight of seeing you cry breaking her heart.

“I,” you struggle to say what’s on your mind, “I love him,” you whisper, voice breaking as you finally said what you’d long known. For a second she stares at you, her faint gasp quickly hidden as she continues to comfort you.

“Oh Y/N,” she sighs, sad that she is unable to find the words that could make this all better. If only Namjoon was—

“What’s going on he—” Namjoon furrows his eyebrows as he sees the sight of his fianceé comforting his long time friend, who now had her face buried in her hands.

“I love him so much, and everytime he comes here I just wanna tell him,” you pause, “I wanna tell him everytime he walks out that door that he could be with me, that I want him to love me,” you cry, “that the only reason I keep seeing him is because I hope one day he just magically wakes up and walks through that door to tell me that he wants to be with me and only me, not her.”

You push your hair back in distress, “And you have to understand I never meant for things to go this far,” you quietly mumble, “and at first it was just a one time thing, nothing but a tiny sin, I thought I wouldn’t ever see him again, but now it’s become so much more,” you sigh, “And I know what I’m doing is wrong, but I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t feel anything.”

Namjoon walks over to you, crouching down so that you could face him, “Hey, we’re not here to judge you,” he firmly states, gently pulling your hands away from your face so that you could make eye contact with him, “you have every right to feel the way you do, you hear me?” slowly you nod your head in response as he lets out a chuckle, “Hell, we wouldn’t be human if we didn’t act selfishly here and there,” he pauses, “but what you do need to do is tell him because you’re right, you can’t keep doing this, or else you’ll be stuck in the same old place forever, and we wouldn’t want that, now would we?” he flashes you his famous old dimpled smile, Mina rubbing small circles on your shoulder as an extra layer of comfort.

“I’m scared,” you whisper. It was true, you were, because what if he didn’t feel the same way? What if he told you that there was no way he’d ever leave her for you? That the feeling of love which had only been growing stronger for the past year would remain as nothing more than a fantasy.

“You’ll never know till you say something,” he gives you a small comforting smile, “Come on let’s get you home little miss Y/N,” he pats your lap, getting up from his crouched position, your Friday night coming to its end.

Jungkook opens the door to his home, genuinely tired from the long week, simply ready to go to bed. “So, where were you?” he hears a voice from behind say. Sighing, he turns around to face his wife of three years, who was currently dressed in her overseas designed silk-purple nightgown, one of the many she owned.

His eyes glance around the room, refusing to make eye contact, “I went out to get drinks with Jimin, you know... the usual for a Friday night,” he wonders how long she’s been waiting for him, honestly it had been a while since she pulled something like this.

“All the bars close at ten, it’s twelve,” she tries to firmly state, but instead her voice cracks, “I have Amelia calling me telling me that Jimin’s gotten hom—”

“Catherine,” he begins, his voice hoarse at how tired he was, “Can we just talk about this some other day? I’m just really tired and,” he shakes his head, combing his hand through his hair, hoping she’d understand.

Catherine momentarily stares at him in silence, an emotionless look on her face before turning and going back upstairs to their bedroom. Jungkook decides to serve himself a glass of whiskey before going to bed in hopes of getting rid of the heavy guilty feeling that weighed over him, and that maybe tonight it’d just be best to sleep on the couch.

“Blue or Red?” you dangle the two outfits from their hangers in front of Jungkook, who was relaxing on your dressing room’s couch, exhausted from the sex you two just had, “I’ve personally been told blue is more of my color, but I feel like red makes me pop out a whole bunch more, and well I need those tips,” you ramble, “So what do you think?”

It had been about two weeks since you last saw him, and since your little breakdown, and though you had taken Namjoon’s words into consideration, the courage to actually go through with it just wasn’t there. Instead you had decided that you needed to wait for the right moment to tell him, and though you weren’t exactly sure when that moment would be, you were definitely sure that when it did happen, maybe, just maybe, everything would turn out how you pictured it to be.

He stretches his arms, releasing a yawn, “Mm,” he hums, “how bout none and you call it a day,” he winks, resulting in a playful hit to the shoulder from you. You gasp as he pulls you to sit on his lap, “And what song are you singing tonight kitten?” he asks.

“Mm I don’t know yet,” you laugh, “might just come up with something last minute,” you joke, but secretly you always did want to venture into composing and writing your own music, weekly newspapers citing that across the country in Hollywoodland, people who could sing, dance, and act, could achieve overnight worldwide fame.

Hollywoodland was a dream, an unrealistic one of course, but a dream nonetheless. Who knows, maybe one day you could make it big out there, but for now you had to focus on where you were locally “famous” : Al’s Melody Noir.

“And become the next Hollywoodland star?” he teases, quickly squishing your cheek before you could knock his hand away.

You shrug, “Hey, you never know,” you smile, “someone in the crowd might just hand me a one way ticket,” you say causing him to roll his eyes and playfully tighten the grip he had on your waist.

“Why not audition for Broadway or something,” he pouts his lips, “they can always use a star like you,” he sings.

“Because I don’t want to be a Broadway star,” you say, “I want to be a Hollywood star,” you grin, “I mean no offense to those Broadway stars, they’re talented and all, but I’m telling you right now that in 50 years from now, the names that are going to be remembered will be the ones who are on that big screen,” Jungkook quietly hums in response, no longer wanting to entertain this topic.

Grabbing his wrist, you glance at his wrist watch, “Ooo, I’m about to go on,” you yelp, quickly getting up from his lap and making any final touch ups to your hair, he gets up as well now getting ready to head out. “Are you sure you can’t stay to see me perform tonight?” you plead, the doe eyed look on your face making it hard for him to say no, but he had to, it was the sole reason why he came to see you before your time slot.

“You know I can’t doll,” he gives you a small kiss on the lips, “I got a whole bunch of paperwork to catch up on tonight,” he sighs, he wasn’t lying either. The stock market was booming as of late, especially because of the newly profound industrial boom, being a stockbroker right now was not only a stressful job but one where any little mistake could cost absolutely everything, “Next time I’ll be there, I promise,” he plants another kiss to your forehead, “And don’t put on too much of a show for em!” he shouts as he walks out.

You look at yourself one last time in the mirror, “Let’s do this,” you whisper, ready to make that stage yours once again.

“Oh you should've seen us having to push that car down the road, whoever this Henry Ford man is needs to learn how to make his cars weight lighter,” Mina complains, you and Namjoon laughing as the three of you were now together at the bar, Namjoon still on the clock of course.

Despite it being a rainy day, tonight was a full house, the club full of upper New York socialites occasionally some of them with their wives and girlfriends. Gambling tables were surrounded by both business men and mafia members. It was clubs like Al’s where you’d see the two different worlds collide and openly interact with one another, but honestly most of these men went hand and hand with each other. Not like there really was that much of a difference between them.

Mina puffs out the smoke from her cigar, “Look, I even chipped my nail,” she flaunts her left hand, Namjoon laughs at her obvious attempt to show off her shiny engagement ring.

“Hey don’t go flaunting it around too much,” he playfully says, but both you and Mina knew that behind that joking tone, he was definitely being serious.

She leans over the front bar rail, dramatically puckering her lips, to which he of course places his lips on, “Hey, get a room!” you complain, “Al sees you two doing that on the clock and he’ll have you two written up!” you laugh.

“Hey I’m on my break,” she clarifies, “And so are you, and if I’m looking at the clock correctly you go on in forty, and you have yet to change.”

Getting up from the bar stool, you dramatically groan in annoyance, now pursing your lips, “Didn’t realize you wanted me gone so badly.”

“Ah you know I’m just joking Y/N,” she passes you her glass of whiskey, “A shot for good luck,” she winks, and so reluctantly you slug down the remainder of her drink, the burning sensation not at all feeling pleasant, as your nose immediately wrinkled at its taste.

“I don’t know how you two drink this stuff,” you say, a childish look of disgust on your face, “it’s banned for a reason you know.”

“You get used to it,” Namjoon comments, “Now get going! Because of all this small talk, you only got thirty minutes left, and we all know how long you take!” he scolds, making a motion with his hand for you to start walking.

“Yeah yeah yeah,” you roll your eyes, now making your way back to your dressing room.

“Remember to show em what you’re made of Miss Hollywoodland,” Mina shouts, as you now shook your head in laughter as you left.

You walk towards your dressing room, still laughing to yourself at Mina’s little comment. Tonight was already a good night, your tips seeing a slight increase after your new performance which of course you’d have to count singularly later to get exact numbers. But for now all you wanted to simply do was change, get your last performance over with, catch a cab, and go to bed. The sound of the rain pouring outside would be nothing but relaxing once you got home, that was for sure.

“Mina, Mina, Mina,—” you mumble to yourself, grabbing the handle to your dressing room, ready to just kick off your heels. But what you see in front of you once you open the door immediately confuses you, as someone was occupying your vanity chair. It wasn’t until you looked at the reflection of the mirror that the heavy feeling weighing on your chest dropped down to your stomach. Because there she was sitting with her legs crossed, fixing her crimson colored lipstick in the mirror.

Standing there in silence, your eyes study her body language. In a way she seemed eerily relaxed, her shoulders weren’t tensed like yours, and her breathing seemed steady. The complete opposite of you.

The tension in the room was so thick, you were unsure of what to say because really what was there for you to say? You knew why she was here, she knew why she was here, so then why did everything feel so uneasy, like a bubbling bottle ready to pop off at any moment.

You want her to scream, to tell you off, to do something that you would expect from her, but instead she hums a tune, continuing to fix her lipstick, not once making eye contact with you, until finally she breaks her silence. A quiet, sly, chuckle coming from her lips.

“You know when I first met Jungkook I remember my heart feeling as if it was going to leap out of my chest,” she calmly shares, “Our respective families had introduced the two of us to one another at some horse racing event in New Orleans, my mother pulling me to the side to tell me that he was an up and coming stockbroker, not that it mattered anyway, I had already been swept off my feet from the moment I laid my eyes on him,” she scoffs at recalling the memory, “and you know I’d like to think that just for that one day he felt the same thing I had felt for him.”

She pauses, hazily looking at her reflection in the mirror, still not having glanced in your direction. “We got married a couple months later, bought our first home here in New York, and every morning I’d make him his cup of coffee and kiss him off for work. I remember thinking about just how perfect my life had come out to be. I was buying custom dresses from Europe, and having my pearls imported from the southern China sea, everything a girl could dream of,” she looks down at the ring placed on her left index finger, shining as bright as ever, “I remember bragging to my friends about my perfect life, and they would tell me that all I needed was the kids,” she laughs, “The other housewives would gossip to me about husbands cheating on their wives’ and I would think to myself how Jungkook would never do that to me, that he loves me too much do something like that.”

“But what I had failed to realize was that I was always viewing things from my perspective,” she shakes her head, almost as if disappointed with herself, “I guess it’s due to the way I was raised, I mean I was a spoiled child who grew up in a wealthy family, never once did I see things from the perspective of others,” she comments, “because maybe if I had I would’ve realized that my husband had quickly fallen out of love with me, or hell he may have never been in love with me to begin with,” the lurching feeling of guilt resurfaces itself from the pits of your stomach, the need to vomit almost excruciating, “but I didn’t,” she bitterly scoffs.

“And so when a friend of mine and her husband invited us to some underground new club in town that was getting all kinds of reviews from the drinks, to the dancers, and the triple threat of a star who could sing, dance, and act. I thought sure, why not? We had gone to many different clubs before where there’d be dancers who walked around with nothing but tiny little stickers across their nipples, and not once did I have to worry about his eyes straying too far,” she finally makes eye contact with you through the reflection of the mirror, “until he saw you that night.”

Getting up from your seat, her heels clack on the wooden floor as she makes her way towards you. Her calm demeanor reminding you of a snake ready to bite at any moment, “I don’t know how you two started off, or who initiated it first because God I honestly stopped trying to figure it out a long time ago,” she pauses, closing her eyes for a moment, trying to prevent herself from breaking down, “At first I thought you were going to be nothing but a phase, something temporary, something he was just doing out of compulsion, that it could’ve been anyone that he was going to commit adultery with.”

She stares at you, her eyes watery, a pool of emotions found in her eyes, “So then when I found myself having to go to that damn club every week, just to,” her voice finally cracks, the pristine glass cup that she was finally breaking, “Just to have to see him stare at you with those eyes every night to the point where he wouldn’t even tell me to come anymore, he’d be going out in the middle of the night just to see you in that damn club for God’s sake!” she cries, her face now red at her lash out.

You stare at her wide-eyed, frozen in place as she’s only inches away from you, an intense chill going down your spine.

“He’s,” she pauses, “He’s my husband,” her voice trembles in hysteria, “My husband,” she repeats, as if trying to reassure herself.

Finally, you manage to stutter something out, “I—I didn’t know at—”

“First?” she scoffs, “Is that the excuse you’re going to give me? What about the second time? Or the third? And the fourth and every other time afterward, huh? All those times you’d spot him in the crowd with me only being a couple of feet away from him, or did you just block me out of your mind so you could sleep at night? Is that it?” she yells. “You just couldn’t do it, huh? You just couldn’t stay away from him, like the dirty tramp you are,” she spat, looking at you with nothing but disgust, “Well say something goddammit! Instead of looking at me with that stupid look on your face!” her voice shakes.

“I never meant for it to go this far,” you whisper, lowering your head in shame, “You have to believe me.”

“I don’t have to believe anything from the likes of someone like you,” she snaps. The heavy feeling on your chest only weighs harder as you realized you needed to tell her the truth, the truth on what you really felt. Slowly you raise your gaze to meet hers, the lump in your throat fighting against the words that were about to come out of your mouth.

“I love hi—”

The sound of the crack of skin contacting skin echoes off the walls, a deafening silence immediately following afterward. As if time was frozen in its place. She slowly looks at her trembling hand which was now vibrating in a pain that etched from the center of her palm to the tip of her fingertips, it’s bright red appearance matching the new welt on your face. You stare at her wide eyed, hand now clutching cheek in pain, no possible words articulating in your head.  

The look on her face is one that’ll haunt you to your grave, it’s the look of someone you had first-hand in breaking. The tears that were currently gracefully falling from her eyes weren’t from a place of sorrow, but the buildup of anger and pain.

She should've felt some kind of remorse. But she didn't. Not one organ in her body could produce a gland of guilt for her actions because at the end of the day this was the least you deserved. She glances at the mark she’s left on your cheek, bitterly scoffing, not because it was big or anything but because it was in fact a cut. A small one where her wedding ring had caught you, a permanent scar that’ll remind you every morning when you look in the mirror of what you’d done. And she hoped, no, she wanted you to feel shame whenever you looked at it.

“You stay away from my husband,” she pleads demands, quickly grabbing her bag from your vanity, and rushing her way out, leaving you there to reflect on everything that just happened.

Jungkook sighs, flipping to the next document on his desk, a night full of work ahead of him. New clients needed to be accommodated, considering everyone wanted a piece of the pie that was the New York Stock Exchange.

Tonight it was raining, a downpour in fact, the prelude to an up and coming storm. The thunder already beginning to cry out from the sky above, the trees around his home writhing and flailing against his window.

Getting up from his desk, he closes up the window as well as shutting the blinds, turning on his shaded glass lamp which provided the dim lighting he always liked working in. The muffled sound of the rain comforting as well.

Catherine was out to God knows where, mumbling something about a girl’s night out before walking out, which of course he didn’t mind, but it was getting quite late. He shrugs off the concern, instead continuing with his work.

Ah she must be back already, he thinks to himself, hearing footsteps coming up the stairs. Suddenly he hears his office door open, “So you’re back already,” he says, not bothering to look up from his paperwork.

He’s met with silence.

Looking up, he’s taken back by the woman standing in front of him. Because there she was, hair and clothes drenched in water along with mascara running down her eyes. A haunting empty look in her eyes.

Quickly he gets up, eyebrows furrowing in worry, “Why are you—Where—What happened?” he finally manages to ask, but she remains silent, staring off at the bookcase behind his desk.

“Catherine you’re soaking! I thought you went to Amelia’s?” he chides, but again she remains silent, until slowly she moves her pupils to his direction.

The two stare at each other for what seems like forever, words not having to be spoken in order to know what exactly was happening. He turns to break the gaze, the feeling of shame that he had been pushing off for so long bubbling in his stomach.

A low staggered laugh comes out of her mouth, steadily becoming louder and louder, booming across the room until tears are now falling from the corners of her eyes, as she goes into a fit of hysteria until finally she begins to sob. “I thought I could live with it,” she whispers in between, “I thought things were going to end at some point between the two of you—”

“Catherine,” he starts, but she’s quick to cut him off.

“But it never did!” she laughs, making a small motion to her head, “and it was there like an itch at the back of my mind all the time,” she lets out a breath in disbelief, “and I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

“Catherine, it’s not what you think it is,” he sighs, causing her to only laugh.

“She loves you, you know that right?” she bitterly scoffs, recalling your words from earlier, “And God help me, because I think you might love her too,” she finally cries out, finally saying the thought she’d kept buried in her mind for so long out loud. The feeling of suffocation finally coming to an end.

“For a wife to have to witness the entirety of her husband falling for another woman,” her voice trembles, “to have to witness the exact moment that you fell in love with her,” she whispers, vigorously shaking her head in denial,“ I don’t even wish that upon my worst enemy,” she lets out a choked sob.

All he could do is stare at her, no words at the tip of his tongue, nothing he could say or do to comfort her. “So,” she grimaces, as if fighting to get the words out of her mouth, but she needed to ask. She needed to hear him say it.

“Do you love her?”

He remains silent. He can’t even bring himself to deny it, she thinks to herself. You could hear a pin drop fall at how silent the room was.

“I’m going to bed,” she whispers, the feeling of defeat draining her as she walks out of the room leaving Jungkook to stand there by himself, the thunderstorm outside finally coming to an end.

“Al doesn’t pay me enough for this,” you groan, scrubbing the wood floors with your bristled brush. Tonight it was your turn to close up the club, and though Namjoon usually offered to stay and help you, he had sadly caught a cold, and so instead tonight you were stuck with Al himself to clean up, which of course meant you’d be stuck doing everything. He was already out front doing God knows what, most likely smoking a cigar or something.

It had been weeks since your encounter with Catherine, as well as your last visit from Jungkook, which you could only assume had to do with said situation. Honestly the whole situation had been anxiety inducing, having gone directly home after the whole ordeal, not bothering to say goodbye to Namjoon or Mina as you left, still stuck in the state of shock that you were in.

Even the usual taxi driver who normally drove you home after work was worried at your silence throughout the whole trip. Usually you kept him updated on the different things going on in the club, especially since he was always interested in, in his words, “innovations you young people are making.”

“She was dame, in love with a guy,” you continue to scrub the floor, now humming the song from a movie you had watched a couple a days ago,  “She stuck with him but didn’t know why,”  

“Everyone blamed her, Still they all named her,” you hear a familiar voice playfully sing, “True Blue Louuuuu,” Jungkook stretches out the final word, now standing in front of you, a warm smile on his face. He was dressed in his usual suit attire, his parted hair with no hair out of place only symbolizing his calm attitude for things.

Quickly getting up, you pat down your skirt of any possible dirt, “How did you—” Before you could even finish asking, your mind immediately answers the question for you, “Al,” you let out a laugh, that man will truly let anyone into his club.

“It’s not like he doesn’t recognize me by now,” he chuckles, opening his arms for embrace, which hesitantly you accept. Jungkook, taken aback by your reluctance, cups your face like he usually does and attempts to give you a pop kiss, which you quickly maneuver your way out of thus confirming something was wrong. “Hey,” he whines, pouting his lower lip.

Gently you push him off, picking up the bucket of dirty water from the floor, silently ignoring his antics, “Y/N,” he grabs your hand as you turn away from him.

Knowing there was nothing in this situation you could do but face him, you sigh, “What?” you harshly say, your attitude causing the dirty bucket of water to slip from your hands, “Ugh,” you groan, a headache now rising, “Look what you made me do,” you hiss.

He lifts his hands in his defence, “Hey, I didn’t make you do anything kitten,” your heart skips a beat at the pet name, but you’re quick to shrug the feeling off, huffing as you went to go get the mop from behind the bar stand, Jungkook only following. “I know you’re mad,” he begins, only raising a bitter laugh out of you.

You inhale a breath of fresh air, trying to keep your composure, “Me? Mad? No!” you narrow your eyes at him.

Laughing at your sarcasm, he responds, “And I understand why—”

You cut him off, “How could you possibly understand? You’re not the one who got slapped across the face,” you frown, clenching your jaw, “I even got a left with a scar because of it,” you angrily point to the small cut under your right eye, where her ring had caught you, “and this is my good side!” you throw in.  

“You can’t even notice it—”

“That’s not the point!”  you glare at him, “The point it, is that I can’t keep doing this,” you exhale loudly, “It’s-it’s” you stutter, firmly pressing your lips together, “it’s wrong,” you finally admit to him. Catherine’s words echo in your head, the image of her sobbing in front of you still fresh in your mind, “and so I,” you hesitate to say the next words, but it was now or never, “I think you need to choose, me or her? Because we can’t keep doing this, and you can’t expect me to stay in this position.”  

“We’re getting a divorce.”

“For the rest of my life, because— wait what?” you bring your ramble to an immediate halt, unsure if you heard him correctly.

“We’re getting a divorce,” he firmly repeats, completely making eye contact you, not even a twitch of the brow to signal if he was lying or not, “it’s why I haven’t been coming for the past few weeks, been filing paperwork and all that other time consuming stuff,” the two of you stand there in silence, the words barely sinking in for you as you owlishly stare at the wall behind him, nothing but a blank expression on your face.  

This is what you wanted … you just hadn’t expected the answer to be dropped as a bombshell like this one. Was it wrong to feel … happy? Overjoyed? Excited? He’s choosing you, you tell yourself. He’s choosing you, you repeat to yourself. He’s choosing to try and have a future with you. “Earth to Y/N,” he waves his hand in front of you, bringing you back to reality.

You glance at the ring that’s haunted you since the day you met him, it’s emptiness being nothing but a marvelous sight, the corners of your lips slowly twitching upward. Jumping into his arms, you scatter his face with kisses, the sudden burst of energy you felt was a high you were sure you’d never feel again in your life.

“There’s my girl,” he mumbles into your ear, both his arms grabbing you to keep you steady. A part of you wants to ask him what happened, the itch to know more details almost excruciating, but instead you choose to enjoy the moment, deciding you’d ask him some other day. With this news, you’d have an eternal amount with him.

Gently, he places you down from his hold, “And I have news that’ll have you near passing out,” you quirk your brows, there was more? “So I think you might need to hold on to the bar or something,” he grins, the feeling of anticipation now creeping under your skin.

“Well get on with it,” you rush him, doubting that the grin on your face could become even bigger.

“The firm I work under throws these annual um…” he looks up, trying to find the right word for the event, “balls,” he smugly grins, “and well a lot of Broadway producers attend, who certainly have connections with people in Hollywoodland, and well let’s just say I pulled some strings and,” he dramatically pauses, building suspension, “you’ll be performing a set for them in a week from now, as my date of course.”

Your mouth hangs loose at his words, “No,” you say in complete bewilderment, feeling as if your head was in the clouds, but your feet were on the ground all at the same time, “What am I going to where? Sing? Oh my—” you ramble, “Jungkook I,” you stop yourself from continuing, instead pulling him another hug, the warmth you felt being in his arms being truly indescribable. Things were looking up, and you were definitely excited for what was to come for the two of you.

“So is it a yes?”

“Of course—”

“Not!” Amelia, Catherine’s long time friend and Jimin’s wife of two years, sneers, her teeth grinding at the mention of you, “This is not your fault Catherine! So don’t you dare say that,” she frowns, the two were currently strolling through her garden, Catherine finally admitting everything to her friend.

“I know it's not,” her heels clack against the cemented paveway, her hands softly grazing against the roses next to her, “but I keep asking myself,” she scoffs, “could this have been avoided?” Amelia’s who was already about to say something is stopped by Catherine, who raises her finger to signal that she could explain, “I mean I could’ve saved myself the trouble, leave the first sign there was of not even the affair, but the first sign of him just not loving me,” she chuckles, “I don’t know, I just keep trying to find answers to all my questions when really they’re all right there in front of me … I just refuse to face them,” she tugs at the rose petal she’d been grazing her fingers on for the last minute, watching it as it fell to the ground.

Amelia scowls at Catherine’s words, “Maybe if that whore of a woman learned how to respect marriages,” she snarls, unable to comprehend how Catherine could possibly be making excuses for you and Jungkook, “then this whole ordeal wouldn’t be happening. She’s going to get what’s coming to her one day.”

Loudly, Catherine exhales a breath of air, exhausted of going in circles with this conversation, honestly she didn’t expect any good advice from Amelia, she just needed an outlet to keep herself sane, “I expected to hate him,” Catherine shakes her head in dismay, “ No, I wanted to hate him, something to masquerade my hurt,” the nights of wishful thinking and crying in bed begin to cloud her mind, “It was like I was desperately waiting for the feeling to consume me, hoping the feeling would wash over me all at once,” she blankly stares at the roses in front of her, “the same way the ocean washes over a seashore at night, you know? But instead I was forced to slowly experience every raw feeling that stemmed from this situation.”

Coming to a halt, Catherine pulls out a cigar from her purse, signalling to Amelia that she needed a lighter, only causing her friend’s face to scrunch in confusion. Catherine rolls her eyes, “Why are you acting like you don’t smoke, Jimin isn’t even here,” she callously says, “Come on, I’m waiting,” she murmurs, the cigar in between her lips.  

Begrudgingly she pulls out her lighter, bringing the flame to the tip of the cigar, an exhale of smoke immediately following after, “There’s rumours these things are addicting,” Amelia mumbles, watching as Catherine inhales another puff.

“There’s also speculation in the New York Times that they can kill you, but you don’t see me believing everything I read now do you,” Catherine laughs, the two continuing their stroll, different things on both of their minds.

“Cross, loop, under the bridge. over the loop, and,” Jungkook hums the tune once made to remind himself how to tie his necktie, “secure,” he breathes out, running a hand through his hair as he didn’t exactly picture himself getting ready in his firm’s office building. But today had been a long day and he didn’t have the time to go back home and change, especially since he still had to go pick you up, and well anyone who knew you, knew that getting ready on time was not your forte.

Instead he decided that his black suit, and a color change of tie would suffice. It wasn’t like the two of you were going to be there for too long, your performance was at the near beginning, the opening act per say.

He was excited to see what you’d pick out to wear, your outfits never failing to put a smile on his face, not because most of the time they were over the top and extravagant, but simply because it was you. Had it been anyone else wearing the things you dressed in, and he was sure he would’ve never bothered to spare even a glance. Honestly you could walk out with nothing but your nightgown and he would still do nothing but worship the ground you walk on.

“Tonight is going to be a good night,” he whispers, glancing at his now empty ring finger. It was going to be the start to something n—

A soft knock on the door interrupts, “Didn’t think I’d find you here,” a voice says.

Jungkook steps away from his mirror, surprised to find Jimin here at such a late hour, “Oh I didn’t realize you were still in the building,” he chuckles, “Thought I was the only one who did overtime tonight,” he glances at his wrist watch, time was on the essence, “Well I’ll see you at the event tonight, Amelia’s going with you, right?” Jungkook grabs his suit jacket from his chair, ready to make his way downstairs to the parking lot.

“Yeah, in fact I think Catherine is at the house helping her get ready,” Jungkook awkwardly tenses at the mention of his wife, the air in the room becoming stiff.

“Oh well that’s nice,” Jungkook gives him a small smile, making his way to walk out the door, “Like I said I’ll see you over there, I should really get going, my date is probably already waiting for me—”

“Y/N right?” Jimin casually asks. Jungkook stops in his tracks, mentally sighing to himself.

“Yeah you guessed it,” he gives Jimin an awkward superficial smile, his body slightly rocking back and forth in annoyance. Something about this interaction felt … uneasy.

“Actually I wanted to talk to you about that…”

Jungkook cocks his head in confusion, “Talk about what,” putting no effort to hide his annoyance. Jimin remains silent, as if contemplating his next choice of words, “Jimin I don’t have all day,” he sighs. Whatever this was was better be good, he thinks to himself.

“I,” Jimin pulls out a folded piece of paper from his pocket, “I need to show you something.”

Fixing your bright red lipstick, you hear the footsteps of someone entering the room, “I’m almost ready Jungkook, I just need to make sure these pins stay in place and I should be good to go,” you ramble, “Oh I’m so excited Jungkook! I couldn’t sleep all night yesterday, just thinking about performing was making me anxious, and well I just want to say thank you, you know? I know I wouldn’t be people’s first choice when it comes to performing at such a prestigious event, especially considering what a lot of people think of people who work in jobs like mine, but,” you fumble with your words, “but, it’s just so,” you clap your hands together, “oh I just can’t explain it! And to be your date,” your eyes sparkle. Tonight was going to be the night. Tonight you were going to tell him.

“To finally be given an opportunity it’s just—I don’t think I can thank you enough,” you finally breathe out, the feeling of excitement completely radiating off of you as you place your earrings on.

You wait for Jungkook to reply, to shower you with kisses like he always does when he sees you, but instead you’re met with complete silence, his figure from the reflection of the mirror completely frozen. Quickly you turn around, nose now wrinkled in confusion, “Jungkook?” you uneasily ask, the young man you were so enamored with only staring at you with a hardened gaze, his expression unreadable.

“Jungkook, what’s wrong?” you ask again, your voice laced with concern, “Did something happen? Do I need to change my setlist? Cause I can easily do that, I mean a perf—”

“You’re not performing tonight,” he harshly interrupts, your face falling as you hear the annoyance drip from every word.

“Oh,” your skin pales, your voice failing to hide its disappointment, “Can I ask why?”

“Because I told the committee you’re not, I managed to find a replacement last minute,” your face crinkles in shock.

“Wait what?” What the hell was going on? Why would Jungkook do that? Did you do something? Your heart begins to thud against your chest, the tingling feeling in the soles of your feet quickly spreading all over your body, “Why—Why would … why would you do something like that?” your eyebrows furrow, the feeling of anger now rising from the pits of your stomach.

Jungkook chuckles before pulling out a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, “You really had me fooled Y/N,” he purses his lips, trying his best to contain his anger, “I cannot believe I let things get this far with you,” his voice shakes, every word seething with anger.

“What the hell are you talking about?” you cry out, genuinely lost. Uncrumpling the piece of paper, he turns it towards your direction, “Am I supposed to know what that is?” you snap, your face becoming red at his vague comments.

“You know you could really stop with that whole stupid act of yours,” he spits, “Honestly I should’ve known better than to trust someone like you,” he lets out a dry laugh.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” you clench your fist.

“Well here take a look at it for yourself,” harshly, you snatch the letter from his hands, your eyes quickly skim through the contents of it. 

“You think I wrote this?” your eyes widen in shock, now getting up from your seat and handing the letter back to him.  

“I know you did,” he laughs, flailing his arms in the process, “Really Y/N? Jimin? Of all people? Did you really think it wouldn’t come back to me?” he almost sounds disgusted.

“But I didn’t! This isn’t even my handwriting!” tears of both frustration and anger begin to well in your eyes, “You have to believe me!” your voice booms across the room.

“I don’t have to believe shit!” he finally yells, the veins from his neck now popping out, “Your signature and name are written in these Y/N! You know how embarrassing this is?” he presses, “All because you can’t keep your fucking legs closed!” your mouth gapes in shock,  “And God I can only imagine the amount of men you’ve probably tried seducing, I’m just the idiot who fell for it all,” he laughs, “And you know I kept trying to tell myself that you wouldn’t do something like this, that you wouldn’t try seducing a married man,” his words drip with sarcasm, “But you have!”

Rapidly you try to blink your tears away, refusing to let him see you cry, “You don’t mean that,” you whisper, shaking your head at his words.

“But I do!” he bites back, “But you know what it's fine,” he knew the next words that were going to come out of his mouth were going to be a low blow. And in the back of his mind he knew he didn’t mean them, but he was angry, no, he was furious. He didn’t care what he had to say, he wanted you to feel just as hurt as he was, “it’s fine because I’ll be able to sleep at night knowing you’ll be stuck here for the rest of your life doing God knows what like the who—”

“Can you stop,” you try to scream, but instead your voice comes out hoarse, your lower lip trembling in sadness, “please,” you whisper, no longer being able to take any of this, “I didn’t write those letters,” you repeat, desperate for him to listen to you, “I know you have reason to believe Jimin, he’s your long time friend, I understand that, and I know my job doesn’t exactly have the best reputation,” you ramble with your words, heaving in between, “But I wouldn’t do this to you!”

“And why should I believe you?”

“Because I,” your voice shakes, “Because I’m in love with you,” you cry out, “Don’t you get it? In love,” you emphasize, moving your hands in frustration, “You think I would’ve kept this going for so long if I didn’t feel something for you?” He remains silent, “I fell in love with you, okay? You!” you scream , “The way you kiss me, the way you touch me,, the way you laugh at every corny joke I make, the way you reassure me about myself whenever I feel insecure, the way your eyes light up whenever you talk about something that fascinates you whether it be boring old stocks to future industrial revolutions,” you let out a choked sob, “or the way you have this compulsion to squeeze my cheeks every time you tease me, and I could go on and on.”

“You’re my person,” you whimper, the final plea in this tragic story.

He turns his gaze to the floor, refusing to look at you, “I was never yours to begin with,” he mutters, walking out of the room and slamming the door behind, leaving you to ask yourself, What. Just. Happened?

Leaning against the door frame, Catherine exhales whatever’s left of her cigar, butting the stub on the wall. “You know, I really don’t mind moving to my parent’s country townhouse,” she casually says, calmly watching her soon to be ex-husband pack his office belongings.

It had been two weeks since your argument with Jungkook, and though he couldn’t confidently say that you hadn’t been on his mind everyday since, he was sure he would be just fine. Of course, he had been sad the first couple of days, then the sadness had become anger once again, until finally he was where he was currently at. Numbness.

Distracting himself with loads of paperwork, working overtime, and being in the midst of a divorce was doing wonders. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if now at the age of twenty-two, greys hairs started to appear because of the overwhelming stress he had to deal with.

Bringing himself back to reality, he’s quick to reject Catherine’s idea, “No, it’s fine, you picked out this place to begin with,” he chuckles, “Hell, I still remember how excited you were about decorating and the effort you put into all of this,” he gives her a small apologetic smile, “it’s only right that you stay. Honestly, I don’t see why you wouldn’t, you did an amazing job with this place.”

“Still, you paid for this place, it’s under your name,” she responds, “This place is just too much of a—” she hesitates.

“Reminder,” Jungkook completes, now having stopped his packing. The two stand there in what couldn’t be described as an awkward silence, but one of understanding.

“A reminder of what we illusioned ourselves in,” she looks down at her ring finger, smiling at its empty sight, “it’s funny,” she laughs, “even before you started the affair, I used to look down at my ring, and for some reason I never did feel,” she pauses, “what’s the word,” she takes a couple of seconds to regain herself, “I never truly felt… happy,” she states, surprised at how such a simple word could mean so much, “but now I look at the sight of it being gone, and I feel relieved, in fact, I feel... free,” she reiterates, her eyes now watery.

“We were young and pressured, I didn’t even have a sense of my own identity yet, and I mean not that it’s any excuse for what you did,” she emphasizes, “but I’m sure you didn’t have one either, I guess we were just too busy trying to please our respective families,” she scoffs, a smile now on her face, “I still even get your birthday confused sometimes,” she jokes around, causing Jungkook to flash his toothy grin at her, “Never did I bother to learn the small details about you,” she inhales and exhales a deep breath, “but she did,” she says, breaking eye contact with Jungkook, not because she was mad or sad, but because she’d come to realize something.

“I was in love with the idea of you, the things you would buy me, the compliments I would get from everyone around me, the idea of being able to flaunt a perfect life, but I think, no, I know I was never in love with you,” she looks at Jungkook once again, tears now freely flowing from his eyes, a chapter in their life now coming to its end.

“I don’t hate you for what you did Jungkook,” she blinks her own tears away, personally tired of all the crying she’s done, “nor do I hate Y/N,” she says, for the first time saying your name, the name smoothly rolling off the tip of her tongue, no ill feeling behind it, “I just wish things could’ve been different, in terms of us realizing that we were just never meant to be,” she finishes off, the final wave finally washing over her. The feeling of acceptance.

Catherine slowly walks towards him, embracing the crying man into a hug, giving him a small heartfelt kiss to the cheek, “I really am sorry Catherine,” he whispers, the words being nothing but genuine.

“I know,” she whispers in return. Gently, she breaks from the hug, wiping the tears that brimmed her eyes, “Come on, you gotta finish your packing,” she says, rolling the sleeves of her robe, and making her way to his desk.

“It’s fine really,” he starts, but she’s quick to ignore him and begin her rummaging of his things. So instead of fighting against her help, he goes back to continuing with what he was doing, the two quietly organizing things, finally at peace.

“I think that’s the last of it,” Jungkook huffs, taping the final cardboard box of paperwork. The two step back and look at the empty room, feeling proud of their hard work, “Well I’m gonna go take this down,” Catherine nods in response, Jungkook now leaving the room.

Her eyes scan the room one last time, making sure nothing was getting left behind, until surprisingly, she does in fact catch something from the corner of her eye. The edge of a piece of paper below the wooden bookshelf sticking out, “That’s weird,” she mumbles to herself, surprised at how she failed to notice it earlier.

Crouching down, she picks up the torn piece of paper, her eyebrows now furrowing at its incompleteness, with only half of the whole sheet being there. She turns the direction of the paper to where there’s writing, her eyes widening at what she sees, “Oh no,” she whispers to herself, trying to think quick on her feet, “The trashcan,” she says to herself, quickly grabbing it and tossing the remnants onto the floor, her breathing now uneasy as she sat on the floor, beginning to uncrumple the pieces of torn paper, silently hoping what she was thinking was all some twisted joke.

With her burst of adrenaline she somehow reassembles the ripped letter, her stomach dropping at the sight of the complete version, completely ignoring the footsteps that were making their way up.

To Jimin,

I’ve had my eye on you for a while now, you should come backstage sometime for your own personal show, just like your friend. I’m sure he won’t mind. Honestly, I’ve been getting a little bored of him these days. And don’t worry, I don’t mind seeing that ring on your finger. You know where to find me…

XO, Y/N.

“Mr. Olsen seems to have gotten a new ca—” Jungkook stops dead in his tracks, immediately tensing at the sight in front of him, “Catherine what are—” Jungkook doesn’t continue with what he’s about to say, the sight of Catherine’s shocked face now confusing him more than ever.

“Oh Amelia, what did you do,” she quietly breathes out, her face now frozen in place, and her hand covering her mouth.  

“What?” Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow, “Amelia? What does Amelia have to do with—” his face immediately falls, his heart sinking at his realization.

“This,” Catherine stutters, “This is her handwriting,” she says, now looking up at Jungkook, whose face was in just as much as shock as hers, “I swear Jungkook, I didn’t know she’d do something like this,” Catherine rubs her temple, “Last time I saw her, she was bad mouthing Y/N but I didn’t she’d—” she shakes her head in dismay, “Jungkook, if I would’ve known I promise you I would’ve stopped her,” Catherine’s words sound like nothing but echoes in Jungkook’s head, his mind currently racing through a countless number of thoughts. His words from the last time he saw you now echoing in his head, the look on your face etching into his mind, oh how you kept denying the letter. The sudden pang of guilt, much too overwhelming.

“I know Catherine,” he whispers, but  all he could do was stare at the letter on the floor. And as if time was frozen, he slowly glances at the mantel clock, his heart now pounding.

8:15 PM.

You should be performing in a bit, he thinks. Immediately he switches gears, hurriedly grabbing the coat on his desk and placing it on, “I,” he stutters, a frenzy look on his face, “I have to go,” he says, quickly running out the door. The only thing he could do was hope he’d catch you on time.

“Oh look who's back, it seems I haven’t seen you in a while,” the sultry hostess purrs, “oh and that ring of yours is gone, trouble in paradise?” she pouts, guiding him to one of the tables. Politely he makes a motion to her, as if to say that he was fine, “Mm well if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, you know where to find me hun,” she winks, making her way back to the greeting area.

Jungkook, feeling as if he couldn’t breathe, adjusts his tie. His leg now bouncing rapidly in complete anxiousness, feeling the stares of a certain someone. He turns to face whoever it is, finding both the bartender and his girlfriend, whose names he was unsure of, staring at him from the bar.

The woman slyly mixes her drink with her stirrer, eyes narrowing at the sight of him, refusing to look away. The man then whispers something to her, making her finally break away from the intense stare.

Jungkook turns back around, the heavy feeling in his chest making it hard to focus on the current performer, not that he really wanted to, but he needed a distraction, something to prevent him from drowning in his own thoughts.  

The claps mellow down as the curtains close, the famous club owner, Al, making his way to the front of the stage, mic now in hand. Jungkook felt as if his stomach was doing flips, both excited and nervous to see you, as he knew you’d probably be quick to spot him, only hoping he wouldn’t scare you off.

“She’s got a voice sent from the heavens above, almost as smooth as a Friday’s glass of whiskey,” Al starts off your usual introduction, Jungkook’s heart pounding with every word spoken, “she can sing, she can dance, she can act, she’s a triple threat of course! And to add to it all, she’s got the face of the doll,” the red curtain slowly begins to open, “she’s our newest star in the making, give a warm welcome for Miss Sally Rose!”

A young woman appears from behind the curtain, counting off the same way you always did, making the same exact motion you always do to the band. Jungkook could feel himself become sick as he heard the men begin to holler at her with every piece of clothing that began to drop, as long as they had something to satisfy their lust, it didn’t matter who was on that stage, as they were nothing but animals.

Where the hell were you? This was, no, this is your time slot. Maybe you’re out sick, he tells himself, no, you loved the stage more than anything. The same woman from earlier passes by with drinks in her hands, on her way to serve God knows who. He’s quick to flag her down, hoping she knew where you were, “What can I do for you handsome?” she winks.

“You don’t happen to know where Y/N is?” he politely asks.

The question causes her to scoff, “Oh darling, me and the girls have been wondering the same thing,” she chuckles, before walking away with her drinks, leaving Jungkook much more puzzled than before. Maybe you were late, he excuses, trying not to panic.

But as every performer begins and ends, the more restless he becomes, every drink he takes only causing the echoes from every holler to become more and more irritating, the world around him now spinning.

An hour later, the young woman comes out again, performing the final song of the night, just like you always would do. Truthfully speaking, he would’ve paid no mind to the performance, but something catches Jungkook’s eye. The woman seems to have her gaze fixed on a young man in the crowd, his wife chattering with the other woman sitting next to her. The same way Catherine would—he shakes his head in dismissal, blaming what he was seeing on his drunk state.

He’s quick to get up, deciding that it was best to momentarily take a step outside and catch a breather. You had to be backstage or something, he tells himself, deciding that he’d wait until everyone was gone to see you, just like he always did.

“Things will be just fine,” he whispers, mouth trembling from the cold weather.

Sighing, Jungkook takes one last look at his empty ring finger before making his way back inside, his nerves at an all time high. He knew you were avoiding him, and he knew he was probably the last person you wanted to see, but he needed to tell you that he was sorry. That what he said was something spoken out of anger, that he was hurt, and most importantly that he should’ve believed you.

Walking in, he sees the bartender flipping chairs on top of the table, presumably cleaning up for the night. Most nights, Jungkook would simply go straight backstage, as you had told him early on in the affair that there was no need for him to introduce himself to your co-workers, but tonight, well tonight he felt like an intruder.

He stands there momentarily, the stiffness in the room almost suffocating.

“She’s gone,” the young man bitterly scoffs, not bothering to spare a glance at Jungkook, “I thought you knew that already,” he mumbles to himself, as he continued to flip the wooden chairs and place them atop of the tables, finishing what was left of cleaning.

Jungkook stares at him for a moment, the words slowly processing in his head. What did he mean by you were “gone”? You wouldn’t leave, it was unlike you. Actually, no, you couldn’t leave, where did you have to go?

He shakes his head in dismissal, shooting the brown haired man a quizzical look, “What did you say again?'" he asks. Namjoon finally looks up from what he’s doing.

Jungkook expected a spiteful glare from Namjoon, one full of hatred for what he had done to his friend, but instead his eyes were hard-rimmed and fixed, immobile as the rest of his face. Almost as if he was studying Jungkook. The cold blank look on his face sends shivers down Jungkook’s spine, but he relents on breaking the cold stare, until finally Namjoon lets out a dry laugh.

“I knew you were a hard-headed person,” he nods his head in dismay, a superficial grin on his face, “you’re also a selfish one, so I should’ve known better,” he laughs again, in awe of how someone could be so … inconsiderate? Was that the word to describe Jungkook? Namjoon thought to himself, why were you so in love with this man, simply finding it hard to believe that you could fall for a man so self-centered.

“Haven’t you noticed by now that she’s been replaced?” Namjoon mocks, “or let me guess you thought you could waltz in here like a knight in shining armor, that she was on some kind of break or something and would forget the things you said, and then things would magically go back to normal,” Jungkook remains silent, “Well?” Namjoon deadpans.

“Y/N wouldn’t just leave like that,” Jungkook says, “it’s not like her,” Namjoon was lying, he had to be.

Namjoon shrugs, “Well guess what she’s gone, I could only wish I knew where. She just grabbed her things and left without a trace, no goodbye, no nothing, but go ahead, look for yourself,” Namjoon makes a motion towards your old dressing room.

Slowly Jungkook breaks eye contact, unsure of what to believe. Quietly he makes his way to the dressing room he’d been in a countless number of times in the past year, still in denial of what Namjoon just told him.

He lets out a deep breath before turning the door knob, a churning feeling in his stomach as he recalled the last time he was here, his words ringing in his head.

Immediately Jungkook feels his heart plummet as he sees the empty room, your vanity which was once full of makeup and bottled perfumes was now vacant of anything and the hangers which were once used for your extravagant outfits as well as your fluffy coats now hung unused.

Jungkook crouches to pick up the only thing that remained of you in the room, the golden glass-framed picture you had of yourself performing now shattered on the floor, a small snapshot of the star you were. He smiles in reminiscence, remembering the night the photo was taken, and how you kept rambling on about why Jungkook would spend so much to have the photo of someone like yourself taken, let alone a photo of your worst angle. But you had kept it nonetheless, hell you even hung it on the wall for safekeeping, only for it to be shattered by the same person who gifted it.

“You didn’t!” you gasp, picking up the framed photo which had been placed on your vanity desk, “When did you even take—how—” Jungkook quickly shuts you up by cupping your face, and giving you a kiss, immediately squishing your cheeks in the playful manner that he always did.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says, “I thought since you didn’t want to accept my gift last time, a sincere one like this would be something you just couldn’t deny.”

“Those pearls were too much,” you shake your head in disapproval, “and you know why I couldn’t accept it,” the image of Catherine pops in your head as he remains silent, but you’re quick to shrug it off, “but this,” you say, waving the picture he had seen a plenty of times before tonight to his face, “this is special,” you grin.

“I knew you’d love it,” he smiles, giving you another peck on the lips.

“Honestly, you shouldn't have,” you laugh, still in disbelief of the photo of yourself. Hell, to have a portrait of yourself taken behind a plain old wall was already something expensive here in New York, and so to have a photo taken of yourself while performing was truly indescribable. “Too bad they got my worst angle,” you complain, causing him to roll his eyes. Grabbing the framed photo from your hands, he places it over the empty nail on the wall.

“Won’t you look at that,” he smiles, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, the two of you now silently admiring the hung photo.

“Jungkook?” you break the prolonged silence.  

He hums in response, turning his head to face you, your heart feeling as swelled as the ocean once near its moon.

“I—” you pause, just get the words out, you think to yourself. Maybe things would finally change. He stares at you in the same doe-eyed expression he always did whenever he was attentively listening to you, curious as to what you were thinking, “I just wanted to say thank you… for the photo,” you awkwardly smile, Jungkook slightly raising his eyebrow at your sudden behavior, but he doesn’t dwell on it too much, instead placing a soft kiss on your forehead.

The memory being one for a lifetime. 

Jungkook dusts off the glass fragments, carefully trying not to cut himself as his fingers graze over the flimsy developed photo. And as he studies the photo, the realization finally hits him, you were really gone.

“I’ll be fine,” he whispers to himself in a distant, quiet, lifeless voice, “I’ll be just fine,” he grazes the photo again, slowly crouching into his knees, photo still in hand, until finally the sounds of silent muffled sobs is the only thing that can be heard from your dressing room.

Namjoon quietly sweeps the floor, humming some Duke Ellington, trying his best to ignore the thoughts that lingered in the back of his mind. Jungkook had left hours ago, Namjoon having heard the silent cries from your dressing room, and for a slight second even making eye contact with the red puffy-eyed man as he left, who had been mumbling inaudible things to himself.  

He didn’t think he’d cry, was what Namjoon had first thought to himself after hearing Jungkook silently sob in your empty dressing room. He honestly expected Jungkook to do anything but cry, hell Namjoon had even told himself to be ready to throw some punches just in case he tried anything stupid.

And so to see Jeon Jungkook, the man who had been coming to this bar for the past year, never failing to order a classic gin and tonic, and always seeming like he was on top of the world, break down in a tiny isolated room, was almost something unimaginable. And for some reason it bothered Namjoon. It wasn’t that Jungkook wasn’t allowed to cry...

Namjoon momentarily stops what he’s doing, sighing in frustration.

It bothered him because it went against everything he thought of Jungkook, the image he had created for Jungkook in his head. It would mean that Jungkook was someone who never meant to be so selfish, but was someone who was emotionally blind to those around him.

And isn’t the unknown always a bit scary?

The only problem was that being blind was something involuntary, and with the countless stories you’d tell Namjoon from time to time, sometimes it seemed like Jungkook was voluntarily choosing to ignore the feelings of those around him.

Namjoon could only speculate why, but maybe, just maybe Jungkook was the kind of person who had long ago put his personal feelings aside to please those around him, including his wife, thinking that it’d be what was best.That he could live a numbing life as long as it meant those around him were satisfied, that it was enough to feel fulfilled with, until you came into the mix.

And once you did, the conflict of choosing what made him happy versus what made others happy while trying to spare both sides’ feelings and opinions, only did more harm than good, stupidly choosing to blindly believe of a false letter. 

And now Jungkook was left with no one but himself.

Was it deserved? Namjoon was unsure now. Y/N. Y/N. Y/N, Namjoon thinks to himself.

The only reason he would excuse your actions was because to those around you, seeing you happy was like the sun shining after a storm, a shine so bright you’d think those happy days would last forever, but to see you sad, it was as if the world would storm on end.

But what Namjoon should’ve realized was that at the end of the day, what you and Jungkook had done was wrong, and there was no denying it.

Hell, it even went against Namjoon’s personal beliefs. Of course it didn’t mean that he was no better of a person because the same way you two had to face the karma of your actions, he and Mina would have to reprimand themselves one day as well for excusing your actions. For allowing things to have gotten this far.

“Jungkook really did love you,” he whispers to himself, shaking his head at the conclusion of this awful tale.

Namjoon sighs.

All he could do was hope that he had done the right thing lying to Jungkook about your whereabouts, and that the next time Namjoon saw you, you’d be the successful woman you were always meant to be, and that this period in your life would be nothing more than a small chapter to look back at.

“Ticket ma’am,” the conductor approaches you. Pulling out your ticket from your purse, you allow the conductor to both inspect and punch the ticket with his rustic clipper, “Now what is a pretty New York doll like you going all the way to the city of Los Angeles for?” he chimes, “You sure you ain’t lost little lady?” he jokes, causing you to laugh.

“I sure ain’t, I’m going to Los Angeles to follow my dreams in becoming famous! You might even catch me on the big screen soon!” you gush, causing him to let out a chuckle.

“Well little lady, I’ve heard that one before and I’ve told every single person I’ve come across that it’s almost impossible,” he mentions, “And I have yet to be proven wrong,”

“Well Mr,” you glance at his name tag, “Rosco, you better remember my name and face because I’m going to make it big in Hollywoodland, I don’t care if it’s as a singer or as an actress, but just you wait!” you declare, a toothy grin plastered on your face.

“Well little miss,” he glances at the ticket which has your name printed in a red colored font, “y/n, I’ve gotta say, I don’t think I’ve met anyone with the same amount of enthusiasm you got going for yourself,” a genuine smile comes across his face as he returns you your ticket, “I wish you nothing but the best on your endeavors,” he compliments, before making his way to the seated passenger in front of you.

Looking out the train’s window, the fields of grass along with the bright blue sky that were being passed by faster than a speeding bullet, for some reason make you feel a longing for home, it was probably because everything was barely hitting you. From the moment he had said what he did in your argument, everything onward had been nothing but a sporadic adrenaline-rushed blur.

“Jungkook?” you ask to an empty room, the shakiness of your voice coming to realize the reality of what has just occurred. The sinking feeling in your chest was what could only be described as heartbreak, though it felt like so much more.

He’s coming back, he’s going to come back. He has to come back, you keep repeating to yourself. Jungkook loves you. He didn’t mean what he said. He couldn’t.

You stare at the photo you had hung on the wall, which was now cracked on the floor, a result at just how harsh the door had been slammed. You could feel the lump in your throat beginning to take its form, but you refuse to let it out. He’s coming back, he has to.

The sound of the door knob twisting quickly grabs your attention, a feeling of relief washing over you. You knew he’d come back. You were his girl, you were the love of his life.

But just as quick as the relief had come, it had left even faster once you saw that the person you thought walking through that door was in fact not Jungkook, but Namjoon who stood there in silence, trying to hide the look of pity on his face. “Y/N…” he whispers in sadness.

“N-No,” your lips wobble, “No,” you begin to vigorously shake your head in denial, “No!” you quaver out, desperately trying to blink back the floodgate of tears that was begging to be released. Namjoon could feel his gut clench at the hopelessness of the situation, knowing that there was nothing he could possibly do because Jungkook was gone, and he was not coming back.

He watches as the tears slowly begin to freely fall, the silent sobs finally escaping from your mouth. Your chest heaves, until finally a cry so raw comes out of your mouth that you grab onto your vanity chair so that your shaking would not cause you to fall.

Quickly, he makes his way to envelope you in a tight hug, humming small comforting words to your ear despite knowing that you probably weren’t listening. You sob into his chest unceasingly, your hand clutching onto Namjoon’s jacket as he held you in silence, rocking you slowly as your tears soaked his chest, blinking back his own tears. The two of you stand there for what seems like forever, the sound of your muffled sobs filling the air.

The wet mascara that was mixing itself with your tears stinging your eyes, almost as if it was trying to force you to stop crying, but you just couldn’t. With every sob that forced its way out, your chest would rise and fall unevenly as you gasped for breath.

How could he do this? Why? Things weren’t supposed to end like this. Not at all. “Shh, shh,” Namjoon hums, “you’re gonna be okay, you hear me?” he reassures. You wanted to scream, to say something, anything, but nothing could come out. If anything you could feel your lungs scream for oxygen, your airway becoming compressed with every hysterical sob that was let out.

Quickly pushing off Namjoon, you feel as if the world is spinning and that the walls of your dressing room were closing in. You begin to gasp over and over, hysterically tapping on your stomach, “Get this,” you heave out, “Get this off of me!” you breathe out, lifting your dress up, and desperately trying to unknot the corset you were wearing underneath.

Namjoon quickly grabs some scissors from your vanity, cutting the piece of ribbon which held together the piece of fabric that clinched your waist. Immediately, you could feel the air return to your lungs, a feeling of relaxation now washing over you, as the riptide finally mellowed down.

You stand in front of the mirror, staring at the reflection across from you, your tears silently falling from your cheeks. Namjoon makes his way behind you, tucking your loose strands of hair behind your ear, “Hey, listen to me,” he whispers, “you are going to be just fine,” he firmly states.

“Joon?”

“Hm,” he responds.

“Can you,” your voice cracks, “Can you just take me home?” Your question is met with silence because instead he grabs a big oversized coat from your rack and places it over your shoulders.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” he says, watching you as you made your way out of the dressing room, for what he knew would be your last time.

Waking up to the feeling of a hand firmly shaking your shoulder, your heavy eyelids struggling to flutter open, the soreness from crying taking its toll. You must’ve fallen asleep during the car ride home, you reason, finally managing to open your eyes completely. You rub your eyes, confused as to where you were because this was definitely not the outside of your apartment building.

In fact, you were outside of Grand Central Terminal, “What the..” you turned to face Namjoon, who had a sad smile on his face, “Joon? What’s,” you falter your words, “What’s going on?” you ask, confusion now overwhelming you.

He lets out a deep sigh of sadness before continuing, “You’re going to California Y/N,” if you had been half-awake before, you certainly weren’t now, quickly jolting forward in shock, “Los Angeles or may I say Hollywoodland to be more specific,” he reiterates, a tiny chuckle coming out of his mouth.

“J-Joon,” you stutter, “you’re crazy!” you sputter, “Absolutely crazy!” you hit his shoulder causing him to let out a yelp in pain.

“Y/N I’m being serious!” he turns and points to the passenger seat of his car, “I even managed to pack most of your things while you were asleep, all the essentials are in those two luggage bags.”

“How did you even—” you shake your head, trying to stay on topic, “Joon I can’t just pack up my things and go, I have—” you hesitate with your next choice of words, what exactly did you have in New York that was holding you back?

Namjoon answers the question before you could, “Nothing. You have absolutely nothing here to hold you back, so why not go chase your dream huh?” he exclaims, “It’s what you’ve always wanted to do Y/N and I’m one hundred percent sure Hollywoodland is looking for a doll face like yours to go shake up the scene,” he laughs, “You can dance, you can sing, and you sure can act, especially those days you wouldn’t want to come into work,” he jokingly mumbles garnering him another slap to the shoulder, “Hey, hey, relax! Point is Y/N, you’re one of the most talented people I know, if not the most talented person I’ve ever met, and it’d be a waste of talent for you not to go out there and show people what you’re made of, Hell I even hear they’re beginning to develop sound films over there, and a voice like yours needs to be memorialized for future generations,” he says, as tears to begin to brim your waterlids.  

“But Joon—” you sniffle, “I don't, I don’t have the money to live out there, hell I barely have enough money in my purse to purchase myself a ticket,” you scoff because it was the truth.

“I know you don’t,” he deadpans, causing you to laugh.

“Then?” you chuckle. Slowly, he flips his coat and reaches into its inner pocket, pulling out and handing you what seemed to be a heavy envelope. You peep inside the sealed white envelope, it’s content causing you to let out a small yelp in surprise. There had to be at least 200 dollars in there! You quickly shake your head in disapprovement.

“Joon, no, no, no! You can't. You've been saving up for—!”

“Hey! Listen to me Y/N, look at me,” he demands, grabbing your hands which had been flailing around in denial. “This money right here means absolutely nothing to me if it means that someone like you can get the opportunity to pursue their dreams, especially because I know it’ll mean absolutely everything for you,” he smiles.

“But Joon, you’ve been saving up this money for your wedding for so long, I can’t, Mina’s going to kill you!” you fluster, Namjoon must’ve been going crazy or something. He’d been working so many hours for the past months, doing countless hours of overtime and being on his best behavior for some tips, how could he give it all up for some gamble at fame?

“I’ve already spoken to her about this and she had absolutely no problem with it!” he laughs, “A wedding is nothing but a celebration for a piece of signed paper, it won’t be the end of the world if we wait a little longer,” he reassures, “As long as Mina and I know we’re in this for life, then that piece of paper won’t change anything.”

“Joon I can’t—”

“You can and you will Y/N,” he firmly states, “plus you can always pay me back once you get rich and famous,” he teases, winking at you. “So, what do you say Y/N? You ready to go to Los Angeles?” You stare at him without blinking, a million thoughts racing through your head. This was your dream, the thing you’d spent a countless number of nights only imagining whenever you’d get up on that wooden stage to perform, and now you were finally going to get the chance to make it a reality.

“I don’t,” you hesitate, “I’m,” you feel your skin tingle with the words you’re about to say, now having made your decision, “I’m going to Hollywoodland,” you softly cry out in disbelief, a dimpled grin appearing on Namjoon’s face.

“Atta girl,” tears which weren’t of sadness, anger, but joy now falling from your face, as you quickly pull Namjoon into a hug. Slowly, he breaks away, “Come on, you gotta get going,” he glances at his wrist watch, which read a quarter past nine, “the train leaves half past nine, and I still gotta walk you to the departing area.”

Quickly buttoning up your coat and fixing your hair, you try your best to seem presentable, Namjoon grabbing your luggage from the backseat and exiting the vehicle, as you do the same, but for you it all feels different. Looking up to the building that surrounds the terminal, you soak in the final view of New York which you wouldn't be seeing for who knows how long. Years ago you’d imagine leaving home, but never like this, and for a moment it was as if time slowed down, almost like your brain needed a “photograph” to commemorate this moment,

The man playing on his saxophone outside the station for tips only adding a warm comfort to your fears, a reminiscent sound which was a balm to your mind, a reminder of the nostalgic chapter in your life that you’d look back to, whether it was with a joyful outlook was only for you to decide.

Slowly the two of you begin to walk to the departing area, your legs feeling more and more wobbly with every step you took. This was really happening.

“Here we are,” Namjoon announces, gently placing your luggage on the floor, and then placing hands against his hips in marvel at how gigantic the stationed train was. Your eyes glisten, once again pulling Namjoon into a hug. “You sure are emotional, you know that right?” he teases, causing you to only further tighten the hug.

You pull out the hug, “I’m going to write to you every week, I promise you!” you avow, causing Namjoon to immediately shake his head in disagreement.

“No, no, you have to focus on your career every waking minute Y/N, if anything just save a couple of bucks every month and ring me here and there, I’m always at the club most of the time and it’s not like you don’t know my schedule, plus I’m sure Al won’t charge me for using the telephone machine every once in a while,” he explains, voice slightly wavering, as his eyes were now glossy from trying to hold back his tears causing you to let out a laugh.

“Come on, you know you wanna cry,” you sniffle, pulling him in for another hug.

“Ah, I’m gonna miss you Y/N,” he laughs through his tears, “they don’t make em like you anymore.”

“This is the final boarding call for New York to Los Angeles which includes a stop at Chicago!” the conductor yells out the train, “I repeat, this is the final boarding call for New York to Los Angeles!” Namjoon quickly taps on your shoulders, rushing you to get on board.

Swiftly, you pick up the luggage cases on the floor, and begin to make your way inside the train but not before shouting something to Namjoon, “Hey, I expect to see a pregnant Mina the next time I see you guys, you hear me!” he facepalms himself, his cheeks becoming red at how loudly you announced it.

You quickly run to your seat, looking at Namjoon through the window, who remained where he stood, the train slowly beginning to move, while the conductor pulls the lever for the steam whistle, the final declaration to the new chapter in your life. You anxiously wave to Namjoon one last time, a grand smile on both of your faces, as he waves in return. The (what you assumed) family members of other passengers also waved goodbye, many teary eyed as you could only imagine the stories of everyone else on the train.

Once you were out of eyesight, you made yourself comfortable on your seat, slightly tilting your head against the window, a long unexpected trip now ahead of you.

Los Angeles from what you could currently tell was definitely different than to what you were used to in New York, but beautiful nonetheless. The cab you managed to pin down was currently driving you to the small motel you found on one of the welcoming pamphlets of the city.

Currently, you were being driven down the newly built Sunset Boulevard, where you could only hope you’d be living on sometime in the near future.

“Ah there it is,” the taxi driver points out the window, and immediately a wonderstruck look appears on your face, your heart now pounding in excitement at the sight of the word “Hollywoodland” appearing from the mountains. “Welcome to Los Angeles kid,” the man says, to which you only nod your head in dumbfoundedness, “you better make the most of it.”

“I sure am.”

a/n: i purposely left the ending ambiguous just because i felt like it should be your guys’ imagination as to whether y/n makes it big in hollywood depending on whether you like her or not LOL, so if you don’t like her you could always imagine she flopped or sum, and whatever jungkook does afterward being unknown as well. Catherine a better person than me, cause forgiving a cheater just aint in my heart LMAO.

also I wanted to dive further into namjoon and y/n’s friendship, as well as add a scene where y/n went shopping for her dress but I was burning out and so hopefully I did good conveying the sincerity of their friendship and the importance of the event to y/n + talk more about jk’s and catherine’s families but I think I put enough hints, that you guys would get the point and its effects on them as people. 

Feel free to comment, send me a message, or drop an anon! Anything is appreciated & if you can please like and reblog 💘 till next time.

[themadlostgirl]

When It’s Cold (7)

*I have a vague inclination of where this story is heading. I went into this without an ending in mind so we’re letting go of the wheel and seeing where it takes us.*

~~~

After I showered and got changed I went downstairs. Felix had made an easy lunch of sandwiches and popcorn and set up the living room to play whatever movie I wanted to watch. I chose a nice comedy and sat down next to Felix.

Images of what we had done this morning still danced shamelessly in my head. How could Felix sit there so calmly? All we were doing was watching a movie, something we did quite frequently, and yet I couldn’t keep my thoughts straight. Even the slight touch of his thumb mindlessly stroking my arm was sending me into a tizzy.

I was hoping that after our escapades this morning that I would be cooler and more collected around Felix but it was ten times worse. I had gotten a taste and now it was all that I wanted. All I could think about. So again, how was it that Felix was sitting there so calmly? How was he not as infuriatingly turned on and jittery as me?

I kept my focus on the movie and my mind moved away from anything dirty as I started laughing at the group of dinner party guests running about a huge mansion in a paranoid craze on the TV. I made a joke to Felix about how if we ever hosted a dinner party it would most likely end up just like this. Hopefully with better food since that entree looked like a creamy, lumpy mess.

“Naturally,” Felix said, “I mean what kind of dinner was that supposed to be? Barely an hors d'oeuvre, a bland soup, skipped salad and appetizer completely and then served a gross main course, then no one partook in dessert. It’s a complete disaster!”

“You seem very passionate about this.” I chuckled. “Is there a guide to big fancy dinners in those cookbooks of yours?”

“Yes actually,” He shrugged, a tint of pink in his cheeks, “I get bored easily so reading about dinner etiquette is a step up from nothing.”

“Oh, so you know a lot about big fancy dinners?”

“Am I to suspect that you want me to make you a big fancy dinner now?”

“Well why not? I’ll even take a bit off your plate and make dessert so you don’t have to.”

“So all I have to do is make the other five courses, is it?”

“Yes.”

“Does this mean you’ll dress up for me too? Since it is supposed to be such a fancy feast?”

“Want to see me in a dress?”

“That one Yvette was wearing would look very nice on you.”

“You mean the maid uniform with the short skirt and stiletto heels?”

“Or something,” He laughed as I hit him upside the head.

“Would you get dressed up too? I think you’d look rather nice in a suit.”

“I don’t know, those ties look awfully constricting.”

“Yet the bust that pushes my boobs up to my ears is less constricting?”

“Okay, how about this,” Felix pulled me into his lap, “You buy a nice dress that you like, I get to wear something comfortable, and one of these nights I’ll make you that big six course dinner.”

“Candlelight and rose petals too?” I teased.

“Don’t push it,”

“Fine, fine,” I kissed him.

I wouldn’t go on about how excited I was at the thought of having a grand dinner. Sometimes Felix flourished on meals but this was going to be a whole event. It even gave me an excuse to buy a pretty dress. Something I didn’t really need but secretly kinda longed for. I know that per our arrangement that Felix was going to be dressed more comfortably which no doubt meant casually but I still would have liked to see him in a suit. I’ve seen him in his Neverland clothes, I’ve seen him in modern era clothes, and I’ve even seen him naked at this point. Dress clothes were the only thing that was missing. Maybe I can cram him into a suit a different day.

We cleaned up from lunch and I decided that the day was still young, I was going to go into town and look at dresses. I wasn’t gonna buy anything but I was gonna peruse. Try some things on. Figure out what I like. Cause I’ve never had a need to buy a dress before, I certainly didn’t have the funds for it before. But now I had to find out what I liked and what looked good on me.

I rode into town on my bike and entered the clothes store Felix and I had gone to the day after we found the mansion. I headed over to the dresses and started looking at the different styles and colors they had. There were a lot of options and I wasn’t sure where to start. I decided to just grab whatever was my size and headed to the dressing room.

I have no idea how long I spent trying on dress after dress and contemplating how I looked in all of them. I didn’t like anything too tight or short and with any low cuts anywhere. Big bold patterns also weren’t really my style. I like the skirts that swished around me when I spun and hit near my knee. I know I said I didn’t like anything low cut but I was finding that I liked anything that showed off my shoulders and collarbones and if it happened to dip in the front a bit that was fine too.

If I got something off the shoulder though then I’d need a bra that could be worn strapless which were none of the comfy ones I had at home.

I put all the dresses back on the rack and made my way over to the underwear section. As I was looking for a good strapless bra, just in case I decided to get a strapless dress, I accidentally wandered into the lingerie section of the underwear. I had never understood the obsession with these flimsy things of satin and lace. I guess they were more for looks than practicality.

Would Felix like if I wore something like this?

I shook the thought from my head and dropped the panties back with the others. I need to get out of here before I fall into the horny mess I had just crawled out of. I left the store without buying anything and got back home. Felix was sitting in the dining room with three different cookbooks and a notepad spread before him as he scribbled down dinner ideas.

It was cute to see how seriously he was taking this dinner. I came up behind him and looped my arms around his neck. “How is the meal planning going?” I asked.

“Well enough. There are a lot of recipes in here and I’m having a bit of trouble organizing it all. I’ve already bookmarked five recipes just for soup that I have to choose from.”

“Want my help?”

“Thanks darling, here, look at these recipes and tell me which sounds best to you.” He slid the notepad over to me.

“Hungarian Mushroom Soup,” I circled it, “Sounds different and like I might like it. I know you also really like mushrooms so how about that?”

“Mushroom soup it is.” Felix flipped the page over, “And now I have about a dozen ideas for appetizers.”

“Oh dear,” I laughed. I sat down next to him as we filed through recipe after recipe. We had to call a quits as it got late and we needed to get dinner for tonight. We decided to order out and Felix left to pick up some pizza. We didn’t trust anyone to deliver to us since we were still worried that someone would force us out of the mansion if they found out we had commandeered it.

The house felt entirely too big without Felix around. That was expected since it was a huge mansion but still. Without Felix then it was just me in a big house with nothing to do and no one to talk to. I went to the window and looked at the sky. It was quickly growing dark and I could see stars start to peep out as the sun set. I found the star that lead back to Neverland. My time as a Lost Girl seemed so far away now.

I wonder how much Felix misses Neverland. I know we talked and he said that he would stay with me whether I chose to go back to Neverland or not if the choice was given. But that didn’t mean that he still didn’t miss it. Neverland had been his home for years. Then he gave it all up because I asked him to follow me.

I will forever be thankful that Felix came with me. I don’t know if I could have survived this world with my sanity if he hadn’t been along. It was in these moments when I was alone in this house and it was so painfully quiet that I came upon a realization. I like quiet but I do not like silence. I enjoy being left alone but I do not enjoy solitude. This house, this mansion, as grand a blessing it may be, would be just as cold and harsh as the forest if I didn’t know that Felix also resided within.

It is such a strange thing to be so attached to someone. I never feared loss. My whole life had been plagued by it. Lost my family. Lost Pan. Lost Neverland. And yet, not a one of those bothered me as badly as the thought of losing Felix did.

Felix came home and with his return my troubled thoughts ran away. We sat down to eat our pizza and watch another movie. I was starting to nod off but Felix made sure to get me up to my room before I fell asleep this time. Felix bid me goodnight with a quick kiss before returning to his own room. It pained my heart to watch him leave. I guess I thought that after this morning we could have spent tonight together again. Seeing as how embarrassing the wake up call had been though it was probably for the best that we were separated. We were just starting our intimate relationship after all. I didn’t want to push too far by demanding we sleep in the same bed together.

One day though. One day.

~~~

Today had been amazing as far as Felix was concerned. It had started rough but the rest of it had turned out far better than he could have ever imagined. He thought that things between you and him had taken a bad turn that morning when he explained that he desired you. It was one thing to know that you desired him in private but it was another to admit it directly.

Then you showed up in his doorway. You opened your heart up and told him that you wanted him too. You didn’t want to run away from this growing intimacy between the two of you. Then you said you wanted to give him a handjob and he nearly popped a blood vessel. You and your wide eyes full of trust, lust, and curiosity.

It took every ounce of his remaining brainpower to help guide you along his body. The feel of your small soft hand wrapped around him, your lips on his chest, your voice softly pleading for him to cum. He was lost to you.

As nervous as he was having you touch him in such a way it was nothing to the pure excited terror that occurred when it was his turn to please you. You trusted him so easily to make you feel good and he wanted nothing more than to meet, maybe even exceed your expectations. Inch by inch your body had been exposed to him. Something he had envisioned a hundred times before finally laid out before him and he was allowed--nay--encouraged to touch all of it.

Listening to the noises you made as sparks of pleasure lit your body was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. His hands shook slightly as he held you and he prayed that you didn’t notice how nervous he truly was as his hand slid beneath the band of your panties. The feel of your slick arousal as he rubbed your clit was nothing compared to how it felt to have your hot, wet, cunt clench around his fingers.

He was making you feel good. You were moaning his name and begging him to do more. It was far better than any fantasy he had created in his head. He watched your face closely as you came and made sure to burn it into his mind. You were just so beautiful when in the throws of pleasure. He would have kept you there in his bed all day but after your reaction to his comment about devouring your pussy he figured he should slow things down.

It was hard not to show how much he wanted to drag you back to the bedroom while you were watching the movie but he knew that you probably needed the breather. He said he was gonna go at your pace so he wasn’t going to try anything until you told him it was okay.

The dinner planning helped take his mind off of it. He had been thinking about making a fancy dinner like he had seen in his books for you one day. Seemed that day was coming sooner than expected. If he was gonna make you a fancy meal then he was gonna do it right. You had been gone for so long in town that you had missed his initial frenzy as he tore through the cookbooks and combed over every recipe at least three times trying to figure out what you would most like, what would impress you.

It felt like there was a lot riding on this. He was able to whittle down his ideas a tad and that’s when you showed up again with your innocent smile and warm laugh. His anxiety eased and he breathed easier having you next to him again.

When night fell and he said goodnight to you he meandered back to his room. His big, dark, cold, and lonely room. He thought of how it felt to fall asleep next to you and wake up beside you. He didn’t realize how big his bed was until you weren’t next to him and in his arms.

It wouldn’t be a big deal if he asked you to sleep next to him, would it? It wasn’t like he was inviting you to his bed for anything explicit. He just wanted to fall asleep next to you again.

After about an hour of tossing and turning unable to fall asleep Felix had enough. “I am risking looking like a desperate idiot,” Felix muttered to himself as he swung out of bed and went to his door. He pulled it open and was shocked to see you waiting on the other side.

“Oh hi,” You said, the hand you had raised to knock quickly dropped back to your side, “I was um...I was wondering if you were still awake.”

“I am,” Felix said. No shit! She can obviously see you are awake, genius. Felix’s mind chastised him. “Did you need something?”

“I was--well I had been thinking--I was wondering if you--” You were stammering, your gaze lost to the ground as you tried to find the right words to say.

“Do you want to know why I am up?” Felix asked, deciding to take pity on his poor girl.

“Uh...yes?” You said, finally peeking up at him through your long lashes.

“I was coming to see you.” He told you, “I couldn’t fall asleep and I was wondering if I could tempt you to spend the night with me.”

“Really?” Your eyes widened in disbelief and glee.

Felix smiled. “Yes, really,” He laced his hand with yours, “Was that something you’d be open to?”

“Yes!” Came your immediate reply. “I mean um, yes, that sounds very nice.”

“Come here little girl,” Felix pulled you inside and gave you a kiss. He tugged you along over to the bed and let you nestle yourself in. He got under the covers as well and reached out to grab you and pull you next to him. Your head tucked under his chin and your body melted against him.

“Goodnight, darling,” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Goodnight, Felix,” You sighed happily. It wasn’t long after your soft snores filled his ears that Felix fell asleep as well. The warmth of your body curled against him banishing the loneliness of his big empty bed once and for all.

---

(Previous) (Next)

[cozy-neko]

The Cherry On Top • 02 • 03 | Charity stream disaster • 04

Kenma checked his stream overlay one last time to make sure everything was set up correctly. The streamer was only ten minutes away from his scheduled 24-hour charity stream that Akaashi had set up for him in partnership with the energy drink company, Black Sheep. For every donation Kenma receives during his live stream, all proceeds will be 100% donated to help animal shelters in need of supplies.

For once, Kenma was actually excited about a partnership. As a lover of cats and raising three rescues himself, it wasn’t particularly a hard decision for Kenma to make when Black Sheep had approached him and brought up the idea of a partnership and a charity stream campaign in conjunction with the animal shelter Black Sheep was associated with.

That was why when his sponsorship with Black Sheep had been threatened by a rumor, Kenma ultimately made a public announcement to deny the rumor and personally reached out to the PR/Influencer team at Black Sheep to talk it out with them.

Now, three minutes prior to going live, Kenma’s phone buzzed multiple times. He glanced at the lit up screen and rolled his eyes. It was Kuroo who was blowing up his phone, and Kenma had a fairly decent idea of what the texts were about.

Last week, Kuroo and Kenma had met up with Akaashi and Bokuto for their monthly dinner meet up when Akaashi had mentioned Kenma’s upcoming charity stream.

“A 24-hour stream is too easy for Kenma; the gremlin routinely stays up at least 36-hours once a week anyways.” Kuroo let out a barking laugh as he flipped the meat that was grilling in front of the four friends.

“That’s besides the point, Kuroo.” Kenma rolled his eyes and leaned back in the vinyl booth. “I’m doing a charity stream. All donations I get during the stream goes towards the animal shelter that Black Sheep partners with.” Kenma made sure to slowly emphasize the word “charity” when he explained his upcoming project.

“You know, I’ve never seen Kenma so excited about a project,” Bokuto quipped as he eagerly tucked into his meal.

“It’s for a good cause and Kozume was quick to say yes,” Akaashi added as he flashed a small smile towards the flushed streamer. Kenma still wasn’t used to hearing people praise him, no matter how often he was always featured in esports commentary and articles.

“I have three cat rescues myself, so it was a no brainer,” he mumbled, averting eye contact. He opted to push around the burnt pieces of meat with his chopsticks around his plate instead.

“Aw, you’re embarrassed that you got caught being openly excited for your next project!” Kuroo smirked and nudged his friend. It was all friendly-banter, and Kenma knew that Kuroo meant well and was extremely happy for him, but he flushed harder as Bokuto and Akaashi chimed in to cheer on their friend.

“I’m just being a nice person. Maybe you should try it some day,” Kenma shot back.

“What do you mean?” Kuroo scoffed. “I’m always a nice person.”

Akaashi and Kenma rolled their eyes at Kuroo while Bokuto let out a good-natured laugh at Kuroo’s response.

“Hey, wait! You know what you should do to make your 24-hour stream more spicy?” There was a mischievous glint in Bokuto’s eyes as he waited for his friends to respond. 

“Bokuto-san, whatever you’re thinking probably isn’t a go--” 

“Drunk 24-hour stream!” 

“Oh, nice!” Kuroo snapped his fingers and grinned his infamous Cheshire Cat smirk. Akaashi sighed and Kenma grimaced. 

"I’m not going to take ideas from two drunks. And we barely sat down to eat, how are you two this drunk already?” Kenma wrinkled his nose.

Kenma unlocked his phone and quickly scanned through his group chat. Yup. There it was: a barrage of texts from Kuroo asking Kenma if he had his booze ready followed by a spam of suggestive eye emojis by Bokuto. Kenma was quick to notice that Akaashi had purposely chosen to ignore the group texts and offered no help in diverting the suggestions.

Kenma snorted quietly at Bokuto's message as he locked his phone. He looked up at the monitor to his right and read some comments that were starting to flood in his stream chat. He gave his camera a small smile and leaned back in his chair, answering some questions that caught his attention and saying "hi" to others.

Kenma usually liked to start his stream off rather chill by interacting with his viewers. After playing his music playlist and adjusting the volume, he finally announced his agenda for the day after a few minutes.

"Today I'm partnering with Black Sheep for a charity stream. It's going to be a 24-hour stream and we're gonna spend most of the time playing some League. All donations I get will go towards helping an animal shelter which you guys know I'm all for." Kenma paused as his donation notification sounded and his text-to-speech setting began to read the donation to him and his viewers.

"meowriachi donated $25: 24-hour stream? too ezpz kodzuken"

Kenma laughed and ran a hand through his messy half-up styled hair.

"I was telling my friends about today's stream and Kuroo said the same thing. Maybe in our next collaboration we'll do a longer stream if you guys want that. We'll also be able to have more fun and do more things, too."

Kenma was smart and sneaky. He always was. Kuroo did always say he was the brains of the team back in high school when they played volleyball together. Kenma was good at analyzing situations, and because of this strength, Kenma knew when to use certain words and situations to create benefits for him and his career. This was no exception. The streamer knew Black Sheep would be moderating his stream, so now the company had slight pressure to partner with him again if there was an in demand from his fans. And this was Kodzuken we were talking about. There was no doubt Kenma knew there would already be a second sponsorship in the works.

Kenma smirked. Easy peasy stream indeed.

Kenma loved his job. He truly did. It wasn't every day someone could wake up every day and actually look forward to going to work, and for that, Kenma was thankful. He was thankful that he had the skillsets to do well in competitive gaming and that he had a knack of being able to pick up mechanics of new games so easily. He was thankful that he had a fanbase that enjoyed his commentary and sarcastic humor, and a fanbase that supported and helped him build his brand from ground up.

Kenma knew he owed one-third of his success to his fans and another one-third to his own hard work and passion. But Kenma also knew he owed the last one-third of his success to his friends.

Not once did Kenma regret making Akaashi his manager; Akaashi had gotten him way more sponsorships than Kenma himself could've if he was still balancing streaming, content creation, and managing his own projects.

Kenma was thankful for Kuroo for always challenging him to step outside his comfort zone. Even when Kenma was irritated and didn't want to hear Kuroo's words of advice and encouragement, Kenma was still grateful for it all.

And Bokuto. Kenma guesses he can be thankful for Bokuto for always hyping him up when he needed it the most. Especially when he was extremely hung over from a night out of (forced) drinking and had barely ten minutes to wake up and set up his stream on time.

Yes, Kenma was truly thankful for his friends. But right now, Kenma wanted to kill them. He wanted to kill Kuroo and Bokuto for coming over to his house uninvited even after he warned them not to and for raiding his stream in real life.

Right now, Kenma was seething. One, he was in the middle of a very important sponsorship deal. Two, he was in the middle of a ranked game in League of Legends and he didn't want to lose his winning streak. And three, his two goofball friends had showed up to his house with alcohol and announced out loud to his viewers that Kenma would now be participating in a drunk 24-hour stream.

Kenma doesn't remember the last time he got this mad. What's worse was that Kenma's fans were all for it. His stream chat was getting spammed with poggers emotes, and it was difficult for Kenma to admit that he had been getting more and more donations ever since Kuroo and Bokuto had shown up and the alcohol was brought out. And because of that, Kenma had begrudgingly surrendered and cracked open a White Claw.

Except he didn't stop only at one; not if Kuroo and Bokuto could help it. And at only about 5'8" with a smaller build, Kenma unfortunately fell victim to being a lightweight. And with Kuroo and Bokuto, kings of being instigators, were there to egg him on along with his stream chat, Kenma downed can after can.

Just a little something to take the edge off a work week, right?

end notes:

→ kenma’s twitch stream took me 30 minutes to piece together 😪

→ if you see the same comments on kenma’s twitch chat twice... no you didn’t 😀🔪

→ also peep the stream title change 👀

→ kenma’s the type to use scuffed candids of his friends as their contact photos, but it didn’t work out too well. he actually respects akaashi enough to use a decent photo, and bokuto never takes a bad photo. ever. i guess kuroo’s the only one he can easily clown.

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[calumance]

Love is electrifying - C.H.

Warnings: tooth rotting fluff, a sprinkling of cussing.

Word Count: 3k

Summary: First dates are terrifying, and they’re especially terrifying when you don’t even know who you’re going on a date with, but sometimes blind dates can end up being the best dates.

A/N: HELLO! This was originally a request that was sent to me, however I got incredibly carried away and ended up making a oneshot out of it. You can find the original request here. Also I apologize that it took me so long to get this posted. PHEW I hope this is worth the wait, I’m excited to share this with you!! Feedback and requests are always welcomed!!! (Want to be added to my tag list? Let me know!)

Masterlist

        The clock was ticking closer to the time your date was supposed to be picking you up. As you stood in front of the mirror, assessing the outfit you chose, you started to question why you ever agreed to go in a date with someone you’d never met before. Maybe it was for the thrill, the adrenaline rush, or maybe it was because Sierra literally begged you to give him a chance. You rolled your eyes and shook your head remembering that day.

        Sierra had been your best friend since middle school, it wasn’t until after high school the two of you split. She stayed in your hometown for college while you went north to New York for college. Even though you didn’t see each other every day, you made a point to talk to each other. Whether it was a good morning text, or a text ranting about the irritating professor you or she encountered. The distance between the two of you grew as her musical career started to take off, and so did your more nine-to-five career.

        It wasn’t until you received a transfer notice that you mustered up the guts to call Sierra. She squealed when she heard you were moving to Los Angeles, and babbled about how much she missed you and couldn’t wait to have sleep overs again. You had laughed and your stomach filled with excitement as you realized that even though the friendship was distant, nothing actually changed. When you landed in Los Angeles, she was the first one to greet you, her arms open wide and a smile spread across her face. When you wrapped your arms around her, you knew you were home.

        It took about a week for her to start bugging you about your love life. You were out getting lunch on a Saturday afternoon, her hair tied up in cute space buns, sunglasses covering her eyes. The way she dressed for a Saturday lunch made you look like you were dressed to be featured on the ‘People of Walmart’ website. Sierra dropped her fork to her plate and looked at you over the top of her sunglasses, “So you’re telling me that you haven’t dated anyone since high school?” The look on her face said there was no way she would ever believe you.

        You shrugged and stabbed mindlessly at the food on your plate, “I mean, there was a couple of meaningless things in college, but nothing serious.” When you looked up at Sierra, she had leaned back in her chair and pushed her sunglasses back up to the top of her nose. The wheels in her mind were turning and your furrowed your eyebrows. “What?” You asked feeling as if there was a storm brewing in her mind.

        She snapped her head back towards you as a mischievous grin spread across her lips. You reared back, terrified of what she was about to say. Before saying anything, she leaned forward, crossing her arms on the table and licked her lips. She wiggles in her chair as the same grin came back to her face, “What if I set you up on a blind date?” Your heart raced in your chest and you kicked your lips and stared at her like a deer in the headlights. “I have this friend, I think he’d be perfect for you.”

        Friend? Her friends were almost all A and B list celebrities, who in the hell did she want to set you up with? You shook your head and laughed a sarcastic laugh, “No, Sierra. There’s no way that I am worthy enough to date any of your friends.” The blood rising in your face finally reached the top of your ears as you looked around seeing if there was anyone around that you didn’t want to hear your next thought, “I mean you’re dating Luke Hemmings for fucks sake.” She shrugged and gave you a look that proved she didn’t see this as anything other than normal. Not wanting to explain how someone like you dating someone of her status was weird, you just sighed. “Will you at least tell me who it is.” She grinned in satisfaction and responded by raising her eyebrows and sticking a fork full of food in her mouth.

        It’s five minutes until your date is supposed to pick you up and Sierra has yet to tell you who she set you up with. The nervousness running through your veins starting to buzz the more the clock ticks. You had tried to call Sierra multiple times, but she never answered. Two days ago when you asked her how he was going to know your address she simply responded with “I know where you live.” Her voicemail answered again as your hands trembled, the nerves finally taking over the thrill of the unknown. You cursed at your phone just as the doorbell rang.

        The sound made your skin crawl, and your stomach jump into your throat. Slowly, you dropped your phone into your bag and made your way to the door. Your fingers pressed to the door as you stood on your toes and tried to peek out the peep hole. The peep hole was dirty and smudged so all you could see was the blurry outline of a person standing on the other side. Your fingers wrapped around the door knob as you took a deep breath and tried to calm your heart. The door creaked as you opened it, your eyes finally landing on the man on the other side. Immediately you recognized him, “Oh, fuck,” slipping off your tongue. Calum let out a soft laugh and looked down at his feet. If he said anything to you, the sound was muffled by the intense beating in your chest. You closed your eyes and placed your hand on your forehead, “That wasn’t supposed to come out of my head, I’m sorry.”

        Calum laughed again and raised his eyebrows, lifting his head slightly to look at you. “It’s good, haven’t gotten that reaction in a long time.” He lifted his head fully and tucked his hands into his pockets. His hair was combed back and to the side, giving him a slight pompadour style. His normal curls that you’ve seen in pictures being tamed by the gel. A black leather jacket was pulled over white button up which was loosely hanging over his black jeans. The outfit was topped off with a pair of old black high top converse. You snickered at the half effort he put into his outfit, but somehow he still looked more put together than you. “I made us reservations at a restaurant not too far from here, are you ready?” His brown eyes looked at you with a shimmer, a shimmer that told you that he was safe, safer than most blind dates. With a nod, you reach for the door handle and stepped out and shut the door behind you.

        The car ride was quiet, only glances were stolen. The butterflies in your stomach unable to calm down, making you feel more than nauseous. As you looked over at him, he looked at you, your eyes connecting. The heat in your cheeks caused you to turn away and touch your face to see if you’re were physically hot. Beside you, Calum cleared his throat and loosened his grip in the steering wheel. “You look very nice, by the way.” He said, causing you to turn your attention back to him.

        Again your cheeks felt hot as he smiled at you. Your stomach did a flip as you ducked your head and swallowed the lump that was quickly forming in your throat. “Thank you, you too,” was all you were able to choke out. Your eyes widened as you looked out the window, embarrassed that that was the only thing you could get out. Calum let out a soft chuckle, but didn’t say anything else.

        As Calum pulled into the parking spot, you started to grab your bag and take off your seat belt. “Stay right there.” Calum said, a soft smile spread across his lips. Your eyebrows furrowed as you released the seat belt and watched Calum jog around the front of the car to the passenger side. He popped the door open and held out his hand. Reluctantly you placed your hands in his, immediately a bolt of lightning running from your fingertips to your shoulder. He helped you out of the car then shut the door behind you. As soon as he let go of your hand, you looked at it and flexed your fingers. As he walked away from you, shooting you a quick smile and shoving his hands in his pockets, you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too.

        Calum opened the door and stood off to the side, allowing you to walk into the restaurant first. A soft ‘thank you’ fell from your lips before you stepped to the side and let Calum be the first to walk up to the hostess. She welcomed him with a warm smile, and he returned it before giving his last name. You continued to stand behind him, your arms awkwardly crossed in an attempt to hide in nervousness. As the hostess left the stand, Calum turned towards you and held out his hand. Afraid of what his touch would feel like, you hesitated. As you placed your hand in his, you flinched, but it didn’t stop to lightning from shooting through your whole body again. A sigh escaped your chest as the tingling dissolved and Calum pulled you to the table.

        Even though the waiter had just finished dropping off your glass of wine, the sound of Calum slapping the menu down on the table made you jump. He chuckled and apologized for scaring you, “Sierra has told me a lot about you.” He said as he folded his hands together. As he leaned forward placing his arms on the top of the table, he wiggled in his seat, readjusting his position.

        The smile sitting on his lips lit some sort of fire in your stomach. A fire that you haven’t felt in a long time, a fire that caused you to hastily reach forward for your glass of wine and wash the majority of the liquid down, hoping to give you some sort of liquid courage. You raised your eyebrows and made a face that was caused by the bitterness of the liquid in your glass, “That’s funny because up until the point I opened the door I had no idea who she set me up with.” You gulped, but you weren’t sure if it was because of the lump that was forming again, or if it was from the dryness the wine left. The glass made a quiet thump as you set it on the clothed table, “What exactly did she tell you?” You asked while using your pointer finger, middle finger and thumb to twist the stem, spinning the glass on the table.

        Calum cleared his throat as your gaze met his. From under the table you could tell that his leg was bouncing in nervousness. You tried your best to relax since it was obvious your nerves were wearing off on him. “She told me you two grew up together, and she also told me that you were one of the sweetest, polite, shy, beautiful people she’s ever met.” He grinned and the nerves in your body start to buzz again, but you composed yourself and swallowed everything down.

        A question sat in the back of your mind, a question that you weren’t sure was appropriate to ask someone you met only an hour ago, “was she right?” It slipped out, and almost immediately you regretted it. You could feel the bile sitting in your throat; you shook your head and looked down at the glass that you were still nervously turning between your fingers.

        A sly grin stretched across Calum’s lips as he sat back and copied your actions by turning his glass while it sat on the table. He glanced up at you and you felt your stomach jump into your throat. He slowly started to nod, “So far.” He said while dropping his gaze back to his glass. The butterflies filled your stomach and your cheeks flushed a bright red. You lowered your head to hide the flirtatious smile that was slowly starting to stretch across your face.

        As dinner played on, your nerves started to relax. There was nothing really to be nervous about, from what you could tell Calum was just as normal as you were, aside from the whole rockstar thing. He didn’t act like a rockstar, when you had asked him why he didn’t go out and party like most rock stars, his smile faded and he shook his head, “those days are in the past, the old me, you could say,” he said as a smirk pulled at his lips as he referenced his own song. A chuckle rumbled in your chest as you lowered you head and nodded in understanding.

        The car ride back to your place was less quiet than the one on the way to dinner. This time it was full of laughter and ‘get to know you’ questions. When Calum pulled up in front of your house, you swallowed. The night had gone so well that you didn’t want it to be over, you wanted this feeling to last forever. You ducked your head as you looked at your hands and fiddled with the strap of your bag. The thought of inviting him in crossed your mind, but you knew if he came in then it would lead to more, breaking your rule of no sex on the first date. It wasn’t because you think he would push for it, but more because you weren’t sure if you could control yourself. There was just something about him; he was sweet and polite, but at the same time of the most attractive humans you’d ever laid your eyes on. Calum cleared his throat jolting you out of your thoughts. “I had a really good time tonight.” He said sheepishly with a nod.

        Your heart raced as you nodded in agreement, “I had a really good time tonight, too.” Your hands trembled in your lap as you thought about the possibility of him kissing you. Instead of looking at Calum, you directed your attention back to your house. As you reached for the door handle, you felt as if everything were in slow motion. Your palms felt sweaty as you turned to Calum to bid him goodnight and saw the look in his eyes telling you how badly he wanted to kiss you. But there was something in your gut telling you to leave, so you popped the door handle and ran towards your front door, without saying another word to him.

        Once you were on the other side of the door, you let out a breath and pressed your back to the door. The chill of the door against your skin causing shivers to run up and down your spine. The feeling of wanting to burst into tears suddenly overcame you as you fumbled for your phone in a desperate attempt to call Sierra. When she answered, you broke, the tears started to fall, even though you really had no reason to cry. “Why didn’t you tell me you were setting me up with Calum? If I had known I never would have agreed,” you cried, “He deserves more than me, I made a fool of myself going out with someone as elite as him.” Your chest heaved, no matter how normal he acted and how normal everything felt, the fact of the matter was he wasn’t normal at all.

        For a moment Sierra was at a loss for words, giving you time to calm down. “Elite? What are you even talking about, darling, he’s as normal as you and I. So he has a successful music career, that does not change who he is, and it definitely shouldn’t change how you see him. When you were with him, did you feel like you were with someone famous, or did you feel like you were the only people in the world?” You thought about dinner and how you felt, really you hadn’t noticed the other people in the room. Once your nerves started to relax the only other person who made an appearance in your vision was the waiter. Before you could answer, Sierra continued to babble about how crazy you sounded, but what actually caught your attention was the sound of a light knock on your front door.

        The tears immediately stopped as your eyebrows furrowed. Without saying another word to your best friend, you ended the call then slowly made your way to the door. As badly as you wanted to peek out the peep hole to see who it was, there was a feeling in the pit of your stomach telling you that you already knew who it was. Your fingers delicately wrapped around the doorknob as you twisted it to open the door. Calum had his hand on the back of his neck, and the other dug deep into his pocket. Although your eyes were locked, neither of you said anything, but somehow you knew you were thinking the same thing. “I don’t want the night to be over,” Calum breathed out before lifting his hands to either side of your face and hastily pressed his lips against yours. The same bolt of lightning jolted through your body, this time much stronger, causing you to inhale a sharp breath. At first you hesitated to kiss him back, but when the reality of how badly you didn’t want the night to end either, you balled the material of his t-shirt in your fists and pressed against him. As his lips moved against yours, you couldn’t help but think that breaking your personal rule this one time won’t be such a bad thing.

************

Tag list: @mantlereid​ @notinthesameguey​ @viiirg0​ @wheniminouterspace​ @thinkofmehlgh​ @another-lonely-heart​ @limer-encia​ @itsmytimetoodream​ @babyoria​ @treatallwithkindness​

[yourpakichic]

Episode 11 thoughts ⁃ A hand hold and a cheek kiss all within the opening scene? Someone call me an ambulance cause I’m dead. Also peep that smug smile on Serkan’s face after grabbing her hand. Sir sit down, you are already doing too much! That’s the most natural skinship scene I’ve seen between these two. Serkan has always looked a little bit uncomfortable with hand holding and other things but that was just so natural and just flowed! ⁃ The lyrics of that song and their expressions throughout were absolute perfection! ⁃ Gosh I really have a love and hate relationship with Aydan. She keeps pushing Selin and Serkan to be together I’m like so over it but on the other hand, she’s had such sweet and heartbreaking scenes and moments and my heart goes out to her. I know she’s a complex character and I love that about her but it’s also so frustrating to watch. ⁃ The similarities and contrasts in Eda/Ceren and Serkan/Engin conversation were so cute. The way Eda is so hopeful and Serkan is still in denial, like y’all need to get it together! Ceren being very straight about Serkan and Eda’s journey and feelings while Engin uses reverse psychology to get Serkan to understand was interesting cause being straight with Serkan never works out. ⁃ Serkan gets his pettiness, attitude, and jealousy tendencies from Aydan and no one can tell me otherwise. ⁃ I will forever love and cherish scenes where he comes to pick her up/drop her off. They might be the smallest scenes but they are the true evidence of their chemistry/attraction. Not to mention they always are witty and playful and shows the way their conversations flow and the little hints of magic their words contain! ⁃ So the grandmother is Ayfer’s mother and clearly they blame her for, I’m assuming, Eda’s parents death which is why they have kept their distance. But from the call Ayfer made, it seems that the grandmother still loves and cares for Ayfer and Eda and will do anything for them. Her entry will absolutely change everything for the family and Serkan/Eda as well! ⁃ “You never worked for me, Eda Yildiz.” Those words. I had to pause and just think. Serkan never considered Eda as his subordinate. She was his equal. To him, she was always a free bird. To come and go as she pleases. He never could or will cage her and I think that is absolutely beautiful and powerful. He acknowledges and accepts her carefree nature and presence and understands that she will fly as she pleases. For Eda, that freedom is necessary and core of her being. To be limited was never Eda’s style. So can you imagine? Being in a relationship where you have complete freedom to be what and who you are without any hesitation with a man who appreciates and loves your talent/knowledge and is always supportive of your endeavors. And that too with Serkan Bolat who has a controlling nature and being. Just need a moment to process that. ⁃ THAT IS GOING TO BE THEIR HOUSE. I’m calling it now. The show NEEDS to end with them in that house with their two robot-like children playing in garden designed by Eda and them over looking that beautiful view from their bedroom. ⁃ Serkan going FULL PANIC over Eda leaving and telling Engin to make her offer was the most pleasing to my eyes. That man out here creating a crisis over this. ⁃ The defeat in his eyes when she tells him to leave her alone. ⁃ Eda claiming her man in front of Selin was top notch! She said girl, I can take care of my man, no need for you. ⁃ The entire Serkan’s sickness scene was just heartbreaking. We knew Serkan had a tragic past and was still suffering because of it but to find out about his trauma was just... I have no words. To be so young, sent away abroad without knowledge about your brother, away from your family. To be left alone so young to grow and work through your trauma all by yourself. No wonder he doesn’t trust anyone. No wonder he doesn’t let anyone in. His own parents abandoned him so young, how is he supposed to rely on anyone else . And he has clearly internalized everything really deep. It’s one thing to have traumatic childhood experiences, but in Serkan’s case, he never worked through it at all. And now as an adult, due to that fact, it manifests itself into actual physical sickness. I literally just wanna give him a hug and make all his problems go away. ⁃ One more thing on this scene, one of my favorite things about their relationship is that despite their differences and previous conflicts, Eda and Serkan can both be easily open and vulnerable with each other when the other needs it. Just how they were sad/angry at the office early, but Eda came to take care of him and not only that, they had a conversation and were so open with each other as they read from the book. To have that openness with someone is just absolutely precious. ⁃ NOT THE WAKING UP WITH EACH OTHER SCENE I WANTED. I DESERVE BETTER! ⁃ Okay. That’s it. I’m never forgiving Aydan for breaking Eda’s heart like that. After everything Eda has done, she deserved to be said goodbye to properly. She made my girl cry after getting what she wants from her. I hope Ayfer goes in on her as their relationship progresses. ⁃ I FUCKING HAD A FEELING LAST WEEK AND THE FACT THAT  AND THEY JUST CONFIRMED IT. So last week when we found out about Eda’s parents death, Serkan’s face reaction made a small little voice inside my head go “that’s gonna be related to their relationship and be an obstacle in some way” BUT I DID NOT EXPECT IT TO BE TRUE LIKE THIS! Alptekin is responsible for Eda’s parents death. That is going to be the breaking point for these Eda/Serkan. Serkan already has issues with Alptekin but this is gonna push him over the edge. Also, I do not like the fact Ferit has this vital information. At this moment, I absolutely do not trust Ferit. ⁃ That was Ferit’s breaking point. Being left all alone while prepping for the wedding. I’m pretty sure he’s not gonna go through the wedding and he will blame Serkan for that I can already tell he’s gonna use his position as a shareholder and the secret about Eda’s parents to destroy Serkan. Not to mention, he’s probably gonna find a way to use the fact that Eda covered for him and Selin about the contract leaking to create a conflict. And here I was thinking Kaan would be our biggest problem.  ⁃ THAT FINAL SCENE WAS ICONIC AND EVERYTHING. I don’t think they could’ve chosen a more EdSer style to do the confession! After everything they’ve been through and the situation, it would’ve been totally weird to have a sweet, slow confession (yet at least). The arguing, the sunset, the slight hint of humor WERE ABSOLUTE PERFECT DIRECTION FOR THIS CONFESSION! the way he stopped the cab, got her suitcase, straight up told her to not go like multiple times and then said those magic words we’ve been dying to hear AND THEN GRABBED HER AND KISSED HER! Perfection. Just literally got goosebumps and was giggling like a child throughout it! 

Overall: THEY ARE OFFICIALLY TOGETHER. That is literally all that matters in the end. Hands off to Kerem and Hande for their amazing acting and expressions, cause this episode was strong solely due to their performance. There was no room for weakness or downplaying any emotion, and man did they deliver every line and every emotion absolutely perfect. We’re finally onto the next phase, which will be going through conflicts and working through family issues which is going to very exciting but also filled with angst. As per the 2 previews, the next episode seems to have a lot to offer: their romantic scenes, the bolats learning about Eda, Ayfer confronting Serkan, and of course Selin/Ferit wedding. Tbh, I am no nervous for this next part because how they choose to handle Serkan/Eda and  portray their relationship at this new starting point is so important in solidifying their bond and their love. 

I’m going to be mess until all these issues resolve and I already don’t have good coping mechanisms!

[blackenedwhite97]

Birthday Gifts-Reader x Aizawa [BNHA] {NSFW}

Request:

 “Idk if your requests are open or anything but can I get a (really detailed lmao) Aizawa oneshot? It's the reader's birthday and to celebrate it they go out with their friends (Aizawa, Mic, Midnight, those peeps) and they get drunk with Aizawa? Then Aizawa takes them to his house and they have a heated, drunken makeout session and end up doing it? And they wake up sober and all and they just look at eachother like 👀 Please and thank you (you can just delete this if you don't wanna write it lol)”

This post includes: , sexual content (so many), cursing, alcohol use and unprotected sex.

As usual I overwrote! Use the “keep reading” page breaks as your guide, the smut and fun times will be nested in between breaks for easy access to anyone who just wants a one way ticket, no lay overs, to horn town.

Author’s note: Requests are super cool and fuel me when I’m brain dead. If you want something sexy/ steamy please keep the character request over 18+ and keep it (fantasies/ role play aside) groovy and consensual.

Okay, birthday sex now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 You could hear Midnight’s heals echoing down through the halls of your apartment, the thin walls couldn’t defend against her unstoppable strut. You looked yourself over in the full-length mirror you’d hung next to the coat rack, smoothing out your mesh shirt. You had tried your best to dress up, you had even rooted through your closet until you had found your good jeans. If you were honest with yourself, you were a full-time teacher and a full-time pro-hero, most social events usually demanded your hero costume, or your agency provided appropriate formal wear.

In recent years your wardrobe had thinned out considerably, any and all clubbing clothes were long gone or buried under the pile of ruined costume pieces you refused to clean out from your closet. The black mesh shirt you were wearing was borrowed, embarrassingly enough, from your niece who also had to supply the black tank top under it. You had never felt so desperate for clothes than when your niece had to start lending you clothes for your own birthday party. The one silver lining was seeing the scandalized look on your brother’s face when he saw what you had grabbed from her closet.

The front door swung open, Midnight’s spare key dangling in the lock.

“You know you can knock if I’m home.” You took stock of the mass of bags hanging from her arms.

She paused and looked you up and down. “A for effort but I have something for you to wear.”

You looked down at yourself then back at her. You had thought the mesh shirt was bordering on scandalous but compared to Midnight’s shimmering cut out dress you definitely looked like your sixteen-year-old niece had dressed you.

“But,” You gestured to your torso dramatically. “I did the mesh thing! That’s not hot?”

Midnight laughed and dropped one arm of bags unceremoniously on the ground.  She scurried around you towards the kitchen pulling out a very luxurious looking bottle of champagne. “It’s your birthday and you aren’t showing leg.”

Since becoming friends with Midnight you had found yourself being spoiled left and right by her. She enjoyed the finer things in life, fine clothes, good drink and gourmet food. She also enjoyed good company, which she reminded you daily that you fit that bill. It was nice, when it wasn’t overwhelming.

“Pink bag.” She said and pointed to the pile of bags on the floor. “I’m getting you laid tonight.”

Your mind tried to picture the dress and all you could come up with was different iterations of Midnight’s hero costume. While you adored Midnight and her style and confidence, it wasn’t quite you. Aside from that the bag was embellished with the logo of a local high-end boutique. Expensive. “How much-”

“It’s a birthday present.” She cut you off.

“Midnight I can’t take-” you tried again.

“Don’t refuse a gift,” the bottle of the champagne rocketed up and dented your low ceiling. “it’s rude.”

You pointed to the ceiling. “That’s rude.”

“Just go put it on!” she waved you off as she began a fruitless search for champagne flutes that you surely didn’t own.

You scoped up the bag and looked at your jean clad legs longingly, you could do so much in jeans and so little in a dress (without revealing yourself).  You peaked inside, a neatly folded mound of matt black fabric peeking through the decorative tissue paper. At least it’s not shiny.

As you headed to your room Midnight called after you. “The boys are coming here and we’re all splitting the cab there!”

Your heart jumped in your chest. The boys. Plural. Did that include- no he hates clubs. If he is coming over then that meant that he’d see you in whatever Midnight had selected for you. You grinned to yourself as you stared at the bag on your bed. Sneaky. No wonder she seemed so proud of herself. Although you certainly tried to keep it a secret, Midnight read you like an open book. She noticed how you trailed after him, stared at doors he’d left through.

You lifted the dress from the bag and left it unfold in your hands. It was simple, fitted and clean. You sighed in relief. A small bundle of lace fell out of the bundle to the ground and you looked down red faced to find a black thong on the floor.

“Put everything on!” You could hear the shit eating grin plastered on Midnight’s face.

You huffed and slid off your jeans, staring at the lacey panties with hesitation. Dressed fly up all the time, and you were somewhat of a public figure. But it would be hot to reach up your dress to find those.

Shit.

You swapped your underwear and slid the dress on. You very quickly realized that you’d have to go braless, the plunging neckline wouldn’t allow it. You had to admit, Midnight knew how to dress just about anyone. When she didn’t get overzealous that is. A memory of the sequinned ball gown she tried to convince you to buy last Christmas for Mt. Lady’s party flashed through your mind.  You peaked into the bag, the shoes she’d thrown in were a pair of her own and were far too tall and had far too much ankle snapping capabilities for you. Luckily you had swiped a pair of heels from your agency’s closet, you were the only one with the right size of feet to wear them anyways. They were semi ornate burgundy heels that were tall enough to give you those sculpted calves but not so tall as to lend themselves to causing you serious bodily harm should you take a tumble. 

You looked yourself over in the mirror and liked what you saw, a new confidence washed over you.

“I look hot as hell.” You declared under your breath.You opened your door, ready to show off Midnight’s hard work. 

All confidence drained out of you for a split second when you made eye contact with the Aizawa as he leaned on your counter, a wine glass filled with champagne.

“Uh, H-Hi!” you squeaked. Aizawa looked lost for a moment, probably trying to zone out the energetic conversation Mic and Midnight seemed to be having on the opposite side of the kitchen island from him. He straightened up at the sight of you and you could have sworn a light pink blush attempted to break through across his cheeks. You liked to hope it was you he was blushing at but told yourself he could be a blusher when he drank.

“Hi.” He rubbed his neck awkwardly. “You look…like the birthday girl.”

He blinked long and hard. That sentence was as awkward for him as it was for you. Midnight jumped towards you, arms outstretched and demanded a spin.

“Let me see my work.” She spun you around and leaned in close so no one could hear. “Is it all on?”

You grinned despite yourself. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” Her hand patted your ass and she stepped away.

“You don’t have any champagne flutes!” She said, declaring a change in topic.

“I don’t drink champagne, why do I need champagne flutes?” You defended yourself and she slid a bubbly filled wine glass towards you, but also suspiciously close to where Aizawa was leaning. You took the glass and settled for a more comfortable distance from him, not that you didn’t crave getting as close as possible but you thought you should at least wait until you could blame any embarrassing advances on the alcohol.

“Yeah,” Midnight gestures at herself. “but I do!”

“They’re just skinny wine glasses, though.” Aizawa chimed in, his low calm voice hinting at entertained.

“Sho, my man.” Mic reached across the island and clapped a hand on Aizawa’s shoulder. “You are not a man culture.”

Aizawa turned directly to you, his deep eyes boring into yours. Again, you noticed that slight flush of color on his cheeks. “I think you wine glasses are just fine, don’t listen to these two.”

 You grinned at him. “Thank-you, on behalf of me and my wine glasses.”

Midnight jumped, pulling her phone from her ample cleavage. “Cabs here!”

Aizawa began collecting wine glasses but you waved him off. “Don’t worry, I’ll get them in the morning.”

He placed his in the sink before Midnight was practically yanking you and him out the door.

“I need my wallet!” you yelped trying to grab your purse on the way out.

“No, you don’t!  You aren’t paying for anything tonight!” she said wrapping a ridiculously strong arm around your shoulders.

Aizawa shot an arm out grabbing your purse off your coat rack as he was ushered out the door and handed it to you. “Uh, here.”

“Thanks.” You turned to lock the door, but Midnight was already pulling her key from the lock.

“Let’s go!” she sang as she began her unstoppable strut out of the building.

 Midnight had shoved you and Aizawa in the back seat of the SUV, demanded her jacket be given its own seat in the back with you and insisted it could not get wrinkled. She was really good at this. You ended up sitting in the middle seat, having to lean into Aizawa periodically when she would remind you not to lean into her jacket. It was a very nice faux fur jacket, but you knew fur didn’t wrinkle. And you were pretty sure Aizawa knew that too.

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There was a big surprise that was ill timed but all together commendable. When you entered the bar some of the guests were still scurrying into their hiding places, you pretended for everyone’s sake to be very surprised. You even jumped and grabbed onto Aizawa for support, which the thankfully played along with by “catching” you in your shock. You were flooded with drink offers, some by hero’s you’d never even met before. Big parties with lots of booze do that, make everyone want to buy the birthday girl a drink. You gladly accepted a handful of drinks before pawning them off on All Might who had the metabolism of a God and Aizawa who soon enough was drunker than you.

Midnight and Mic were in their element, dancing and singing away. The crowd was so drawn to them that after a while you were able to retreat to a booth in the back and watch them light up the room from afar. You spun your untouched glass of god knows what, watching the melting ice swirl around the nearly fluorescent liquid.

“What’s that?” Aizawa grumbled towards your drink as he slid into the booth next to you. At some point in the night his shirt had become progressively more undone, the sleeves were rolled up and his hair fell from its elastic. He smelled of booze but beyond that a subtle wave of musk and soap washed over you.

“Dunno.” You said pushing it away and leaning into his shoulder. “Stay still, kay?”

“Room spinning?” He asked, leaning into you.

You nodded and closed your eyes taking in his smell. Something about this was so comfortable.

 “I like this.” You said pulling on his shirt. “You look good in a dress shirt.”

“Thanks.” He chuckled. “You look beautiful tonight.”

You smirked. Hell yeah you did. “You should see what Midnight has me wearing underneath.”

There was a moment when all you could feel was Aizawa taking a deep breath beneath your head. “Is that an invitation?”

You opened your eyes and looked up at him. He was definitely blushing now, but there was no awkwardness in his eyes. They were intense, alight with heat and intent. You nodded against his shoulder and watched a smirk spread across his lips. A warm calloused hand found its way to your thigh and traveled upward under your dress, barely brushing the lace panties. It was barely a brush, but you felt excitement pull at your gut.

“Well, shit.” He breathed.

You swallowed your fear and decided that you were drunk enough to be able to blame it on that if this went poorly. You sat yourself up and pressed your hands to his chest, his hand stayed at its post between your legs and his eyes stayed glued to yours. You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his. He melted into you, his spare hand finding your hip. He instantly began nipping at your bottom lip and running his tongue across your lips until you gave into the wet sloppy drunk kisses. Not that you minded, you too were wet, sloppy and drunk.

His hands traveled everywhere, grabbing and stroking any part of you he could. By the time his hand found your inner thigh again you had swung a leg over his lap and he had begun to leave love bites across your collarbone and neck. You reached down and palmed him between your legs and he hissed, pulling away from you and taking hold of your jaw so he could look you in the eyes.  It took you a minute to focus on him, the heat running through you threatening to burn through your clothes.

“Not here.” He breathed, huffing when you stroked him through his pants again. “I’m not fucking you here.”

You pouted and slumped back, hitting the table filled with drinks at varying stages of finished. He caught you by the hips before you fell too far back and laughed, his eyes impossibly warm and soft. “My place is two blocks away.”

You slid off of him and pulled our skirt down, hiding what fraction of our pride you still could for any possible on lookers. You reached out towards him. “This is my get laid dress, so lay me.”

He paused for a second, shaking his head and chuckling. You cringed inwards, possibly the worst sentence you leave your mouth.

“I know what you mean.”  Aizawa said, ducking back to grab your purse from the booth. “Here.”

You grabbed it and latched onto his arm as the two of you leaned onto each other for support, hopefully creating the appearance of two only mildly buzzed people. You were both swaying, his hand unable to detach itself from your ass and yours keeping itself warm under his shirt. The walk was quick but clumsy, your “practical” heels failing you and demanding to be taken off over a sewer grate.

The most treacherous part of your journey was perhaps the dreaded keyhole in his door handle. You thanked god he lived on the first floor, at this point stairs were not an option. As soon as the door was open you were practically thrown inside to the dark apartment, your back hitting a wall a few feet from the door. He kicked the door closed behind him and was on you before the latch closed. In one smooth movement he hoisted you up into his arms and turned to place you on a set of drawers where you hit a glass key dish. It fell to the ground with a crash and off in the dark apartment a surprised cat yelped. You let out a giggle, holding onto Aizawa’s head as you pulled away to laugh. His head fell to your chest as he finished off the buttons on his shirt, shedding it and laughed with you. “You good?”

You nodded and pulled his face back to yours. He began working on your dress, the zipper on the back gave way under his surprisingly steady hands. In one swift movement he scooped you up and slid the rest of the dress from your body and placed you back down, this time careful to mind any stray key dishes. His hand ran along the wall looking for the light switch. The entrance to the apartment lit up with a dim amber light, his hair was mussed and his cheeks red, one of your love marks already bruising nicely against the pale skin of his throat.

You realized that you were nearly completely naked save the thong. Under any other circumstance you would have been mortified and scrambling for cover but given the alcohol and the way he was looking at you right now, you let the moment exist. He leaned forward pressing his forehead to yours.

“Beautiful.” He whispered.

“Pants.” You whispered back. “Off.”

He chuckled and obliged, dropping his pants and stepping out of them.

“Okay, sex now.” He huffed as he grabbed you by the waist and carried you into the barely illuminated living room.

He dropped you on the couch unceremoniously and manhandled you into position until you were sitting on the edge of the couch, your legs draped over his shoulders and his strong hands grasping at your thigh and breast. He trailed kisses up your thigh, his fingers hooking around your panties and tugging them down your legs. His hands left your body briefly, warm air hitting your face as your thong whipped past your head and over the couch.  His hands gripped your thighs tight, holding them in place on his shoulders and he ducked down and began his work.

At first it was slow, tentative, almost shy. Then he found the spot, the spot that made you shiver and clench your thighs. You felt his scruff rub against your sensitive skin as he grinned, his grip tightening, and you began to squirm. He lapped at your clit, slow then fast, nipping when your squirming seemed to slow, keeping the knot in your gut swelling with every move. You moaned and dug your hand into his wild hair, the soft curls swallowing your fingers. You held him closer, practically begging him not to stop.

The knot in your stomach swelled until your thighs shook and your breath came out in quivering waves. You wanted him to fuck you so badly that the thought of cumming now felt like treason. You pushed against his head, yet he was unyielding in his assault on your core.

“Fuck.” You breathed, trying to delay the inevitable. “Sho, fuck me already.”

He pulled back, his hand replacing his tongue. “Not until you cum first.”

“N-no, please. Fuck me.” You begged, the knot tightening impossibly.

“I’m drunk.” He huffed, his breath washing over your already hot core. “Once I cum I cannot be held responsible if I fucking pass out. Now hold still so I can give you a birthday present!”

He dove back into your core, this time renewed with an almost aggressive approach, not that you were complaining. Your hands tighten in his curls and you gave in to him, everything he was building up to until you were rocking into his mouth and mewling like a cat in heat. He slipped in two fingers, your slick greedy vagina gladly accepted them.  You felt him curse against you, no doubt the warm wet feeling of you wrapped around his fingers a siren’s call straight to his dick.  

He pumped in and out, his tongue never yielding until finally the knot in your stomach released and a wave euphoria and shiver racked your body, your legs and arms twitching as your body felt as if it was floating.He helped you ride your high, adding another finger and whispering a cacophony of dirty words in your ear. You gripped his shoulders as you came back to yourself, he was covered in a thin layer of sweat and his scent wafted in painfully alluring waved towards you. 

He lifted your weak legs and folded them into your chest, his boxers now discarded along with your lace panties, tossed into the dark abyss of the apartment. He placed a hot kiss to your forehead, then to the tip of your nose then to your lips. There he stayed as he lined himself up with your entrance and pushed forward. He was girthy and stretched you in ways you hadn’t expected.

“Breathe.” He pulled back, looking into your eyes. You hadn’t noticed you’d been holding your breath until now and let out the breath you were keeping locked away in your chest. Your body melted into the couch, forming to fit him perfectly as you relaxed. Again, he started slow, setting a pace while he figured out what felt right. He must have found the jackpot because suddenly his pace picked up, his breath hot on your neck. You felt a familiar knot, loosely forming in your stomach, your nerves still buzzing from your previous orgasms.

Aizawa reached forward, his hands finding your breasts as he leaned down into you. You were pressed back further into the couch as he drilled into you, the sound of skin hitting skin echoing in the dark. With each thrust the knot in your stomach tugged on itself, tightening. Aizawa paused, adjusting himself at your entrance before thrusting forward, stars shooting across your vision as a hot wave rattled through you. You’re mewls grew to yelps and gasps with every thrust, his grunts starting to match your love sounds.

You could feel yourself starting to shake, the tension in your gut almost too much to take, when he began to get sloppy. Every thrust became an endeavor as he struggled to find a pace he could keep while slowly coming undone.  His hands slid down to the couch, gripping the fabric like he was going to be whisked away at any moment.

“Fuck.” He cursed; his body twitching out of rhythm.

You grabbed each side of his face and looked him in the eyes, pools of deep lust consuming your vision. You pulled him close, suddenly craving his lips on yours. He mirrored your urgency and soon his pace evened out, each thrust stronger and faster than the last. You felt yourself clenching around him, your legs locked at his shoulders.

He pressed his head against yours pulling out of the kiss so he could look into your eyes as he came. He drilled into you until your yelps turned into a silent scream of pleasure as the knot in your gut burst for a second time that night. With a final, strong thrust warmth spread through you as he leaned into you, his uneven breaths washing over your skin. 

He slid down to his elbows as he rode out his own orgasm, his lips brushing your collar bone as he muttered sweet nothings to you.You twitched beneath him, stars and black spots dancing in your periphery. Your legs slipped off his shoulders and found rest at his hip, the two of you sweating and panting in the sweet afterglow of sloppy drunk sex.

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The rays of sun that broke through the blinds berated your eyes, the searing white light like a smite from god with the hangover you were about the nurse. Groaning against the light you reached over to your bedside table for the bottle of water you put there before leaving for the night. Your hand stopped short at a wall of plush and springy fabric…like the back of a couch. Your eyes shot open, bright hot sunlight filling your vision. You groaned and scrambled backwards out of the light’s reach, kicking something on your way back.

“Fuck!” You knew that voice.

You blinked away the retina burns, and your stomach dropped. At your feet a very sleepy and very naked Aizawa was lying on his front, his arms folded under his head.

“Sorry!” you chirped; realizing it was him you had just kicked. “D-did we-”

Aizawa looked up at you, at first he seemed just as dazed and confused as you did but then a sly grin spread across his face. “Yeah, I’d say so.”

You looked down at yourself, realizing you too were very naked. You pulled your legs up to cover as much as you could and wrapped your arms around your chest. “Do you…remember any of-”

“Not at all.” He grumbled, sitting himself up and grabbing a pillow from the ground to cover his junk. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

You squinted into the distance, calling on fuzzy memories of fluorescent cocktails and straying hands. You could feel your cheeks heating up. “Your hand up my skirt.”

“Was that-”

“My idea? Yep.” You recalled.

“Oh.” He nodded to himself. “Good.”

You both sat in silence staring at each other.  A long-haired white cat leapt up onto the couch and rubbed its body up against your shins, begging for affection.

“Did you want to shower? I have some sweats you can-”

“Yeah, thanks!” you interrupted and jumped up, painfully aware of how very vey naked you were. You dashed towards the first door you saw.

“That’s my room, Bathroom’s down the hall.” You could feel him smirking at you.

“Right!” you said as you turned and strutted down the hall.

[dusksmote]

Is there any background info you can give on characters in WTSAU?

Like any cool hc you give the characters?

okay i have SO MANY 😩 but i can’t say all the best ones until later cuz they involve SPOILERS

so i’ll try to say all the ones i can with the information given:

Style:

- Kyle’s had feelings for Stan since he realized he was gay, which was in middle school. When Stan came out as bi he told Kyle first, before Wendy, even though they were dating at the time. Kyle’s insecurities prevented from acting on his feelings even after they broke up.

- Wendy has pegged Stan in the past, but Kyle is the first guy Stan’s ever been with. Wendy has come around to support their relationship since the events of ETL chapter 4.

- Stan is always the first one to say ‘I love you’.

- Kyle was the last one in their big friend group to lose his virginity, but he has one of the highest sex drives of the guys. He and Stan switch off being top almost equally, but Kyle prefers to top and Stan prefers to bottom. they fuck daily.

- When they want to have a hard, passionate fuck Kyle tops. when they want to have slow, emotional sex Stan tops. Kyle has slight sadist tendencies (inflicts pain) and Stan has masochist tendencies (receives pain). Stan is especially into breathplay (choking, face sitting, crushing, etc.) and assplay. he’s the best ass eater (so call him a bottom feeder 😂) and Kyle’s superior in the blowjob department.

- Stan has hyperhidrosis, meaning he sweats more than the average person. this is why their rooms/the truck/anywhere they fuck smells so strong. there’s a few hints for this in ETL/WTSAU, he keeps antiperspirant in his locker and in the truck, he gets really sweaty whenever they have sex. Stan also has asthma and acne, which Kyle’s been helping him treat. Kyle loves popping his zits for him.

- Conversely, Kyle is super hygienic and always tries to keep himself clean and dry. when Sharon comes into Stan’s room in chapter 1 and describes the smell, the gym locker scent is Stan, the Old Spice is Kyle, and the ‘inside of a rubber balloon’ is their latex lubricant. 

- Everyone at school considers them the obnoxious, overly romantic couple. they hold hands, cuddle, kiss, and dirty talk in front of everyone. they think they can get away with it without people noticing but they’re chronically conspicuous and not stealthy. the working title for the fanfic was actually ‘Ain’t Slick’ for a while before it changed to What They Say About Us!

- they’re fucking devoted to each other and are exclusively monogamous. Stan is especially protective of Kyle and Kyle is fiercely possessive of Stan. 

- Kyle applied as a math major in his college applications, and will eventually get a PhD for logic and set theory. Stan’s a bio major and wants to go into physical therapy.

- Stan doesn’t smoke weed out of principle (because of his dad) so Kyle also doesn’t smoke in solidarity. 

- Kyle is a type 2 diabetic, and doesn’t need to always take insulin. his weight gain began with the World of Warcraft episode and was maintained instead of lost like in the show. his weight is a cyclical feedback loop of: genetics (mom’s side of the family), too much insulin (when using insulin therapy), and diet. this led to him developing lordosis (excessive weight warps his spine) so he didn’t grow as tall as he would have, and makes his weight appear more exaggerated. short stature, weight, and body image issues led to quitting basketball which in turn contributes more to his weight. this impacts his self-worth which leads to stress eating. his biggest fear is that he’ll never stop gaining weight and will end up as big or bigger than Cartman.

- Stan has gained a few pounds since he started dating Kyle, while Kyle has lost a few.

Cutters/Bunnyman/Kenrietta:

- Kenny is straight, but has voluntarily sucked dick before. he and henrietta have hooked up a few times in the past after running into each other at poetry slam events which Kenny takes Karen to. 

- Butters and Cartman are exclusively gay, and think girls are fucking gross. they’ve only every slept with each other.

- Kenny, Cartman, and Butters are all best friends and do pretty much everything together. even though Butters and Cartman are dating, Kenny never feels like a third wheel because they rarely act romantic in front of anyone (including him). however, when Style start dating and Cutters come out about their relationship, Kenny begins feeling like a fifth wheel.

- Butters lives almost entirely at Cartman’s house. His parents actually don’t mind because they enjoy not having him around. Liane is 100% the cool mom from mean girls who asks them if they want snacks or a condom. Sometimes all three of them crash at Kenny’s house for variety (or when he has to watch Karen because his mom is drinking/out of the house).

- Kenny wants to study psychology in college and become a family therapist or social worker. he’s taking a gap year to save money then going to community college. Cartman and Butters applied to the same schools and plan to stick together long-term.

- Butters and Cartman’s relationship started as experimenting with each other as their sexualities developed, and began after Cartman confided that he had sexual feelings for Kyle. Cartman and Butters have also developed genuine feelings for each other, and overtime their relationship transformed into what it is now. because of how their relationship started, they’re very open about any sexual feelings they have for other people and have a ‘hall pass’ for friends they’re allowed to fuck if given the chance, without it considered cheating.

- Butters is a huge gossip. he will promise to keep secrets and then immediately turn around and tell Cartman--which totally happened after Kyle said he thinks Stan has a crush on him in ETL chapter 2. Butters and Cartman keep nothing from each other, and the only secrets they won’t tell are the ones about each other. 

- Kenny is the easiest of the larger friend group to confide in, and keeps every secret he’s given. he’s known Cartman and Butters have been together since the beginning, about Cartman’s crush on Kyle, and Kyle’s crush on Stan. People naturally come to him for advice and to vent. The least likely person to confide in him is Kyle, who’s more likely to curl in on himself instead of expressing his feelings.

-SO much shit about Cartman and Butters’ relationship I can’t say yet because it comes up in the fic 😩 please ask me about these two again later when i can say more!!!

Creek:

- Tweek is a dom top and Craig’s his catamite. they try to get away with sex anywhere they can and have gotten very stealthy because of it. Tweek also has one of the highest sex drives of their friend group, and Craig will let him do whatever he wants anywhere, anytime. 

- Tweek is constantly high on stimulants (cocaine, meth, adderall, etc.) and Craig experiments with him in certain settings. this is what gives Tweek his boosted self-confidence and flippant attitude. 

- Pete Thelman (hair flip goth) is their coke dealer. Tweek trades him his ADHD meds for it, which Pete resells to posers. If Tweek doesn’t have enough to cover the cost he and Craig make up the rest by giving Pete sexual favors. sometimes they have threesomes for fun too.

- Tweek and Craig both think Kyle is hot and would fuck him given the chance. being open about this with each other makes them feel closer and strengthens their relationship. they have roleplayed as Stan and Kyle in bed before while high out of their minds.

- they're deeply in love and would do anything for each other. Craig could get Tweek to stop taking drugs if he wanted to but right now they enjoy experimenting with them together. in the words of everyone who know them, ‘Tweek and Craig are perfectly fucked up for each other’. 

Kyle’s family:

- Sheila’s biggest regret as a parent is letting Kyle get fat, because she was also overweight as a kid and dealt with the same issues he does now. It’s the same reason she feels obligated to help Kyle’s cousin overcome his weight dilemma (by trying to get him and Stan to hang out).

- Ike is an eboy who loves lil peep. He, Karen, Tricia, and Firkle all make tiktoks together and complain about their gay older brothers/friends.

- random fun fact: If Ike and Karen get married that would mean Kyle and Kenny are brothers-in-law, which would mean the main five all end up as extended family to one another.

Stan’s family:

- Sharon has plans to divorce Randy but is waiting until Stan leaves for college to not uproot him from school and his friends.

- Grandpa Marsh is still kickin’ in the old folks home and Shelly’s off in college.

- Randy’s a narcissist who lives vicariously through Stan’s accomplishments in sports. the easiest way to explain it is: Randy’s not as proud of Stan for being a successful athlete and attractive jock as he is proud of himself for producing one. Stan’s ability to get laid with (he presumes) hot girls makes Randy feel like he has game too. one of the reasons he’s disgusted by Stan’s relationship with Kyle is if Stan’s fucking some big fat guy it doesn’t align with his narrative. 

-

this is just the stuff i could think of off the top of my head, i’ll probably come back and add more to this as i remember it. ask me again in a few chapters!!! i have so much i want to say about bunnyman, cutters, the future for style, and their families that i can’t say yet!

[ships-for-you]

Anon Request

Hi! I’m incredibly sorry I got to this so late but I am so excited to get started on this, thank you for requesting! (Gifs are not mine)

Also warning, there may be the occasional swear words.

Mizuki:

Alright, Mizuki is known for having some sort of obsession over things and people that he likes.

Especially when he deems them cute.

Especially x2 when he knows that that they’re here to stay with him.

So when he meets his s/o for the first time, he immediately notices your height first. I mean you’re so cute???

He also imagines you as his own personal pocket pet that humans are always gushing about? Like, he’s tempted to turn you into one of them.

Then he realizes that’s creepy and he’s not trying to do that since he’s learning from Nanami so…

He’s very bubbly and openly shows his enthusiasm whenever you come around the shrine with Nanami.

He absolutely loVeS the height difference between you and him. I mean, he’s 5'8 which he doesn’t consider very tall so to find a guy that’s shorter than him with looks to boot? He’s in.

He tries not to get overzealous when talking about his life story since he doesn’t want you to get scared of him.

He purposely left out the part where he trapped Nanami in his own God’s shrine but you knew anyway.

He likes to hold your hand and compare their sizes because he finds that interesting that yours may or may not be significantly shorter than his.

He teaches you how to play the flute in the most cringeworthy way possible like when he puts his fingers on top of yours while he’s behind you?

Yeah, cringeworthy but slightly sweet.

He loves to hover over you when you’re doing something like cooking or reading a book without you noticing just so he can scare you.

That little shit

He occasionally likes to scoop you into his arms for a hug and then randomly lift you up because he’s feeling extra that day.

Or maybe he just had a bad day.

Speaking of bad days, he always likes it when his s/o clings to him for a bit and reassures him that they’re not leaving since, again, attachment issues.

Mizuki, although obsessive at times, doesn’t actually get too jealous of when you hang around other guys or girls.

I mean, he wouldn’t like it if you spent more of your time with them than him but he’s not stingy with you, if that makes sense lmao.

But he definitely wouldn’t allow you to hang around Tomoe and Kurama too much. Having Tomoe’s scent on you is enough, he doesn’t need that crow’s scent on you as well.

I don’t know, apparently scent is important to him and his scent on you also sort of repels other demons and/or akashi from getting too close.

Kanato:

Ok, hear me out.

Kanato is 5'4. I’m not saying there aren’t any guys under 5'4 but they’re rare to find

So if he does encounter any male below his height, he is immediately amused. (And somewhat interested, let’s be honest.)

If you aren’t, that’s ok. You still get his attention somehow. If you’re obnoxiously loud, your style is interesting, or you’re great in the art like writing or singing, you’ll get him interested to some extent.

I feel like Kanato is one of the last of the brothers to accept he’s even remotely interested in men in that regard. Like, borderline homophobic.

Honestly it probably stems from something incredibly superficial like he doesn’t find men, “conventionally cute.”

When he does eventually come to terms with it, he’d probably invite them over for a tea party with sweets and tea.

Given that it would be you playing butler because he’s suddenly found of having a cute guy serving him.

He’ll be the type of guy to ask you out by threatening you so…not entirely romantic but if you like the dude, I won’t judge.

The relationship is not so toxic(?) It’s just where one is more high maintenance than the other and so you kinda have to bend over backwards a lot.

I mean, he does like you but it’s just different? He either can’t show it properly or does not show it at all.

Admittedly, there are times where he just disregards teddy’s existence in exchange for cuddling you when he’s tired.

You also coax him into sleeping earlier so you could cuddle. (He’ll complain and thrash about like a child but he does it less the more you ask.)

He enjoys your body temperature way too much.

Might even sneak in a little nibble since he liked your warmth way too much to the point he wanted to feel more.

Plus, your size makes it perfect for him to cuddle you. To him you’re not too big and not too small, just right for him.

It will probably take a while before you can actually kiss him or anything.

When it does happen though, expect it to be messy and maybe one or two of his brothers peeping in his room to watch you two.

They’ll probably photograph that, just saying.

Tamura:

Warning, slight ns¿fw ahead

Lmao, you gave me the power of choice so here he is. (This entire post will probably get taken down because of this gif ffs.)

Since he’s gay in canon, or just generally is comfortable with guys in every sense of the word, I thought he’d be the most likely love to have a short s/o.

I feel like Tamura is the type of guy that absolutely loves anyone shorter than him and will tease the ever loving shit out of them. If they’re quiet and reserved or really loud, outgoing and a tease, you’ve probably got yourself a blue-haired shark after you.

He’s also a tsundere type so he definitely won’t be the one to initiate any type of conversation between you two.

Of course, let’s say you came to their, “after school club” during visiting hours, he’d be super over-protective because he feels like you probably didn’t know what their club was for.

And now that the other members know who you are, they won’t leave you alone since they know for a fact their little Tamu likes you.

Toono is probably a great friend for you since you’re in the same class.

So is Yaguchi.

You’ve known Yaguchi since you were kids so you know the real, “Yacchan.”

You also know Kashima which is pretty cool for you since he’s a great friend and confidant but not so cool for poor Tamu-chan.

If you do like Tamura, it would be an interesting scenario for the rest of Yaribu to witness.

You like Tamura and are jealous of Yacchan while Tamura likes you and is jealous of Kashima.

You hang around Kashima mainly because you’re both pretty new to the whole, “liking boys” scene and tell each other your insighits.

Tamura has no excuse to talk to you but with the help of Toono and Kashima, they both secretly pull the strings to make you see each other more than before.

When you do start going out, it’s a little hard for him since he wants to be loyal to you but he kind of needs to do his business in the club.

But if you assure him it’s fine, he’ll be wary but at least he has your consent.

He kind of abstains from sex? He probably only uses toys now on others instead of actually giving them a good pegging.

If it does start to get a little out of hand, like Tamura still doesn’t serve for the club properly, Akemi will probably force you to be recruited.

He doesn’t really like initiating a lot of the romantic or affectionate stuff but he does like it when you give him little kisses here and there throughout the day

or quick hugs,

Or just a simple affectionate touch on his face to assure him that the day will pass by fast and you’ll see him later.

There would definitely be a time where his s/o told them they’d have, “a fun time” when they got to their dorms.

Turns out they were just going to watch a movie.d

Is Tamura disappointed? Yes.

But will he wait until you’re ready? Fuck yeah.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

Thank you for requesting! This was so fun to write but it’s my first time writing for male readers. Feel free to critique it if you find something too off and I’d be glad to change it.

Requests are open folks!

[gardens-light]

Friends To Lovers

Writers Note- First post/fanfic. Hope you enjoy.

Warnings: Light smutt. Fluff. Fingering. Unexpected/Slightly forced sexual interaction.

You and Eddie Brock have been friends as long as you can remember. Growing up in the same neighborhood as kids, witnessing highs and lows throughout the years. But since his public interview with Carlton Drake and the breakup of his ex fionce' Annie. You've watched Eddie go into a downward spiral, becoming distant with you, which he's never done.

Friday. 8:30pm.

The harsh, winter wind nipped your ears and fingers as you stood in front of the bare bricked apartment block. A heavy sigh breathed from your lips, trying to ignore the side glances of people outside. "Why am I even here?" Questioning yourself as you rubbed your hands together, attempting to stay warm.

Eddie hasn't returned any calls or texts for weeks, which at first only bothered you a little, till yesterday. Your worries and concerns grew when his ex, Annie called you, explaining Eddie's recent 'episode' and basicly calling him 'crazy.' Her voice echoed inside your head, 'you're his friend! Say or do something! Eddie already ruined things for me once. You'll wouldnt let him do it again!' You never liked her, but always remained positive and kept your opinions to yourself whenever Eddie spoke of her.

Not being your first time visiting the building, you found Eddie's door easily. But that didn't stop the nerves and worry consume you, after slight hesitation you gently knocked on the door.

---

Eddie's head suddenly perked up from the table, slowly waking up from his drunken nap. The gentle knock on the door came again, eyes widening when a familiar voice calmly called out his name.

She is at the door.

Venom's deep, darkening voice echoed inside his head. "I know..."

You've been ignoring her. Upsetting her.

"It's for the best..." Eddie's attempt at convincing made Venom laugh. Closing his eyes as he placed his head upon the table, hearing the muffled voice call out to him caused him pain. Wincing in discomfort as the ache in his chest tightened.

Extending a tendril from his host's body, wrapping it around the neck of the empty beer bottle and suddenly launching it against the nearest wall. "What the?-" "Eddie? Are you ok?" "What was that for?" He hissed lowly at the symboite. But Venom remained quiet, forcing his host to walk towards the door, peeping through the eyehole he saw you. Standing there, still with a worried expression while playing with your fingers. "G-Go away! Leave!" Those words tasted like poison burning his throat, his heart aching more as your face saddened.

---

"I-I-" "N-No! Leave!" Gathering the stubbornness you had, your hands curled into fists as they remained by your side. "I wont leave! Not until you tell me what's wrong! What's been going on?-" "N-Nothing! I'm fine!" You could hear the pain within his voice. The loneliness in his tone, you curled your lips as you thought, why? Why was he acting like this?

"Eddie... please talk to me, Annie told me what happened at the restraint" there was a slight pause before Eddie spoke again. "What did she say?" "That you stormed towards her and her new partner as they sat at the table. Rambeling about your 'proof' about Carlton Drake- whatever that means. Then you suddenly snatched and eat food from other people's plates, all before exclaiming to everyone you were hot and sat in a fish tank filled with live lobsters." "Th-That's not, ugh that bad-" " you eat the lobster from tank! Alive and fresh while sitting in the tank!." Eddie's voice fell silent when you raised your voice, calming your nerves, your fists unclentched and leaned against the door. "Please Eddie... let me in, just talk to me" you tried to keep your voice from breaking but tears reached your eyes as he snapped. "N-No! Annie thinks I've gone crazy and so will you! Sometimes I feel like I've gone crazy! Carton Drake took everything from me. My job! My home! My girl!-" "but not me."

You were greeted with another silence from his side of the door. Allowing you to repeat yourself, "but not me. You may have lost your career, home and fionce', but not once have you ever lost your friend. I have no idea what's happening or what you're going through, but nor am I understanding why you're pushing me away." "Why would you care?" You blinked multiple times in confusion, your voice breaking as tears rolled down your cheeks. "Why would I care? Because you're my friend! We've been through so much- too much! To stop caring about one another now!"

Leaning your head against the door, with your hands remaining still against the wood. "I've missed you... so much"

---

Matching your position on his side of the door, Eddie breathed deeply accidentally admitting in a low tone. "I've... missed you too"

Aww, isn't that nice?

"Shut up!" Eddie cursed under his breath.

Look at her. You did this to her.

"I-I know" feeling the symbioates toothy smile inside his head. Eddie witnessed as the black trendrils wrapped around the door knob.

Let's, let her in.

"No!-"

C'mon... I won't interrupt. I shall be on my 'best' behavior.

Not giving him a chance to react, the door opened with a slow extended swing. The pair of you gazing at each other in awkward silence, tears continued to roll down your face.

---

Losing yourself, you stepped towards him and wrapped your arms around his toned torso. Eddie pulled you into his apartment, gently closing the door behind him. Surprising you as he hugged you back, squeezing tightly. Not that he would admit out loud, but he missed your touch, your warm hugs, even the sound of your voice and the smell of your favorite perfume.

Gently pushing him away, looking up at him through watery eyes, so many questions swirled around your head but all you could mutter was, "why?." The longer you gazed at him, the more you saw the change. Eddie always kept his brown hair sleek and styled, but now it was greasy and unkept. Dark circles and slight bags framed his hazel eyes, indicating days- possibly weeks of sleep deprived. Pulling you back for another tight hug, resting his chin upon your soft hair atop of your head. "I... don't know" he admitted, "I don't know."

Realizing he may have held you for too long, Eddie quickly let you go before you had a chance to feel lost in his embrace. Panic quickly flashed across his face as the symbioate's low growl rumbeled in his chest. Only speaking the word.

Hungry.

Shock and confusion came to you, as you witnessed him stumble towards the kitchen, each movement being jumpy. "D-Do you want something to eat?" The tone of his voice was quick and jumpy, moving too fast for his reflects, eyes darting rapidly.

Pulling the fridge door with unessarcery force, Eddie took two beer bottles and placed them onto the counter top. You quickly grabbed the bottles of alcohol, saving them from falling over. Your eyes widened as he opened the cupboard door, grabbing a bag of chips and forcing them open, causing loose pieces to fly out of the packet. Grabbing handfulls and shoving them into his mouth, before throwing the packet into your direction, then immediately reaching out for the packet of biscuits.

"Whoa! Whoa! Stop" you called out, stepping towards him but before you had a moment to react, Eddie threw the biscuits away from him. Reaching out for you instead, his hands grabbing your waist and forcefully pinning your back against the wall. Your gaze remained wide eyed as you tried to make sense of what just happened, feeling his quick breath upon your face, you wasnt sure what you were supposed to feel.

Nothing made any sense to you. Eddie was always calm and confident, not jumpy and jittery like he is now.

---

His eyes looked down at your waist, then back to your confused expression. Eddie felt his heart beat like a rapid drum within his chest.

Delicate curves. Soft skin. Lovely eyes.

"No! No! Don't you harm her!" He growled lowly to Venom. "Y/N is my friend! We don't harm friends!"

Who said anything about harming her? Y/N, is attractive. Brave. You have feelings for her. Sexual thoughts.

Eddie shook his head, attempting to stop the symbioate from talking. Stopping him from reading anymore of his feelings which he tried to bottle up.

Yes, you do. They're all here, inside your head. Dreams. Desires.

"No! Not now!" "No what?" Eddie pulled you away from the wall but also away from himself. Stumbling a little, just stopping as your heels hit the couch. "You shouldn't have come!" His voice was more jumpy and quick than before. "I-I'm not myself! I can't control what I'm feeling! Thinking! Acting!-" "It's ok" Eddie loved but also hated how calm and collective you were. You always tried to work things out, even when it appeared hopeless or unusual.

You want to Eddie. The need for her is strong. I can taste it. I can feel it.

"Leave! Just leave!"

---

Without warning Eddie lunged forward, pushing you onto the couch as he crawled on top with predator like movement. Stretching the collar of your top downwards, exposing your breasts, his mouth opening wide placing your breast inside. You bit your bottom lip, feeling his tounge swirl and circle, while firmly grasping your other breast with is free hand. His jaw moved slightly as he sucked on your skin, tounge licking your nipple as satisfied moans came from him.

You closed your eyes as heat built up in your core, slowly moving downward towards between your thighs. Realising his firm grip upon your breast, feeling his fingers trace the curves of your body. His touch flowing downwards, slipping between the gap of your skin and undergarments. A low moan escaped from your lips as his fingers softly felt your folds, before placing his middle and index finger into you. Both fingers curling upwards within, making your back arch and causing your legs to quake. Your fingers clutching onto his shirt as you felt wetness come to his fingers.

Burying your head against his shoulder, as he raised his head from your chest. Hearing your gasps of breath and low moans into his ear, Eddie felt his trousers tighten around his crouch, breathing deeply as he became satisfied of the wetness around his fingers. Slowly pulling them away from you and out of the gap between your skin and undergarments, raising upright and sitting upon your hips. Eddie saw the hot mess he turned you into, your gazes met and he watched you flush pink, returning your smile as he unbuttoned his jeans.

No communication was needed. You both wanted what the other craved for.

She wants us, Eddie. Make her crave. Make her scream.

The heat and wetness between your legs grew as you bit your lip. Watching him unbutton his jeans, pulling out his full erection. Pushing down your leggings and undergarments, you moaned his name loudly as Eddie drove his member deep into you, thrusting hard against your g-spot.

[msjr0119]

Birthday One Shot

A/N1: So it’s my girls birthday today. My favourite drunk partner. Hope you have had a fabulous day @drakexwillow !!! I can’t wait to have an alcoholic drink with you and fall asleep again 😆

A/N2: Some of the dialogue used was actually texts between us. I’ve rushed this as I’ve been busy passing out all weekend - bypass any stupid grammar mistakes 🤣

A/N3: Thank you to your other half, ‘Beany’ for helping me out with some things- I hope he didn’t spoil it for you ❤️👍🏼

Book: The Royal Romance (A/U)

Pairing: Drake Walker (Michiel Huisman) x Willow Downing (Jessica Lowndes)

Song inspirations:

Gun Machine Kelly- Drunk Face

Gun Machine Kelly- Hangover Cure

Mood- 24kGoldn and Ian Dior

Warnings: Adult language, mention of sex, mention of being drunk.

Tags: Thinking of those who like Drake x MC especially Willow- don’t feel obliged to read if you don’t want to 😊

@drakexwillow @burnsoslow @axwalker @annekebbphotography @kingliam2019 @kimmiedoo5 @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @bascmve01 @yukinagato2012 @lodberg @cordonianroyalty @texaskitten30 @nomadics-stuff

****

Drake Walker had been dating Willow Downing for many years now. Every birthday that came around he always struggled with new ideas about what to do for the love of his life. At times he was tempted to ask for advise from his closest friends Maxwell and Sophie- however, if he did that he knew that it would just end in a disaster. A big drunken mess. He would usually impersonate a babysitter for the three of them, especially Willow. Thinking back to past birthdays, she wasn’t a bad drunk. Or was she? There had been times when she would get the ‘munchies’- gather food everywhere then not clean up after herself. Rice. That was the worse time for this common food reoccurrence. If it wasn’t the issue of food, there was the spilt drinks residue surrounding the place instead. Which Drake had to clean up. One of the worse ‘Willow moments’ since they had began dating had been when she vomited in their bed- and all down herself, Drake had turned into a domesticated goddess for the night. Stripping the bed, before assisting her in the shower. Oh, then there was the time when Maxwell and Willow had gotten matching tattoos of a peacock with the words ‘House Beaumont Rules’ sprawled underneath it. That night was karma in Drake’s eyes. Regardless of her drunk past antics, he loved her with all of his heart and wouldn’t change it for anything. She was the one.

****

🎶Why you always in a mood?

Fuckin' 'round, actin' brand new

I ain't tryna tell you what to do

But try to play it cool

Baby, I ain't playing by your rules

Everything look better with a view🎶

“I’m not in a mood!” Drake defended himself- as his other half entered the kitchen singing. Yes, he was known to be the moody one. The one that always wore a scowl. But for once he wasn’t ‘in a mood’. Not for now anyway.

“Sometimes you are. But no, it’s a song. You really need to get down with the kids Drake and watch TikTok.” Snuggling behind him, it was the best option as she knew exactly what his expression would be like. Hearing a heavy sigh escape from him- soon she felt him relax, both feeling content.

Fucking TikTok. He muttered to himself. The social media app had become his worse nightmare recently. When they laid in bed on a night, she would promise him that she was only watching it for five minutes. That five minutes soon turned into an hour, which then elaborated into sometimes three or four hours. By that time he had fallen asleep. No intimacy. It’s a phase- she will soon get bored. Again, he wouldn’t change his relationship with her.

****

Later on that night after they had eaten, Drake had put one of Willow’s favourite TV series on. Usually she would be ‘glued’ to it- no matter how many times she had seen this specific episode.

“I thought that you’d want to watch The Office? But instead you’re just listening to that garbage. Can’t we just have one night with no TikTok or listening to him?” After his original snappy attitude, that turned eventually into a plead- Drake attempted to make eye contact with her. Knowing full well that she wasn’t fully listening to him.

“But, he’s amazing. Gorgeous. Sexy.....” Swooning deep down inside as she expressed this, Willow eventually locked eyes with a now pissed off boyfriend. Before TikTok became a ‘thing’, she was in a similar situation whenever a new game for the PlayStation was released. Karma at its best.

“Obviously not as sexy as you though Mr Walker.” Attempting to redeem her previous words, Drake responded with only an eye roll. Maybe she was slightly addicted to Machine Gun Kelly and TikTok. In all honesty, lockdown was to blame for this ‘addiction’. Being stuck in the house. With nothing to do. Well, there was other things to do. Most time spent to begin with was the two of them entangled in each other.

“I’m sorry, Drake. Allow me to listen to one song, then we will watch this- no phones. Just Drillow time.” A smile finally crept upon his face. Finally she was cooperating with him in his mind.

“Sounds like a good deal. Which song are you going to choose?” He asked, not that he was bothered or interested. Just eager to spend time without any distractions.

“I like too many songs- I’ll try and pick a favourite...’Drunk face’. It’s off his new album. ‘Hangover cure’ is also a good one by him.” I bet it is.

“I wouldn’t know. I haven’t listened to it.” Faking a sincere yet interested tone of voice, Willow was still debating which song to hum and listen along too. Just hurry up and chose one.

“I can’t believe he’s with Megan Fox and he keeps using her in his music videos it’s so cute.” Getting easily distracted again, Drake bit his lip as she did this in a silent frustration.

“I thought that Megan Fox was still with Brian Austin what’s his face?” Surprisingly, he wasn’t aware of their unexpected split when it was breaking news in the show business world.

“No they split up the start of the year I think it was....I didn’t think they’d look that cute together and pictures of them together he towers over her and it makes them look adorable.” Like us, Drake compared the celebrity couple to themselves as he always towered over a ‘shorter’ Willow.

🎶Wake up, still drunk from last night

The first dates are always uncomfortable

Stayed up, I couldn't sleep last night

I'll admit, I'm a little dysfunctional

Are you okay with the fact I'm a little off track, to be honest

I've been through relationships, I've never been in love, but I want this 🎶

“Anyway, let’s finish watching this before my birthday tomorrow.” Finally placing her phone out of reach, Drake couldn’t quite believe that she had detached herself from it. Almost hallucinating due to the fact.

****

The two of them didn’t quite finish watching the episode. One thing led to another. Clothes were scattered all over the floor, before Drake had carried Willow bridal style to their bedroom. The rest of the night was bliss, an early gift for the birthday girl. Walker style.

Knowing that it was now officially her birthday, she snuggled into the soft warm sheets with a content feeling. Subconsciously she had dreamt about how Drake would make her day special. As he always did. Rolling over, there was no sign of him. Blinking her eyes she believed that she could possibly still be half asleep- that was until the realisation of the sun peeping through the cracks of the blinds. Forcing herself out of bed, she searched the house for Drake with no avail. Wondering what he was upto, she put those thoughts to the side for now and got ready for the day. Her day. A day that she had planned to be filled with fun and laughter with the people closest to her. He will be back before I’m finished.

An hour later, the wanderer still hadn’t returned. Willow had become slight panic stricken before the banging on the door distracted her pondering any further.

“Happy birthday!” The two friends shouted enthusiastically before pulling her in for a group hug. A hug that could have potentially suffocated her. “Where’s Drake?”

“I... I don’t know. It’s not like him to leave without saying goodbye at least, Soph.”

“Well it’s eleven o’clock. Never too early for a birthday cocktail. It’s the evening somewhere in the world. Maxwell sort the birthday girl out with a drink.”

“Yes ma’am. Come on, Lo.” Sophie watched the two of them disappear out of sight before dialling the number on her phone.

“Drake. Where are you?”

“I’m just getting Lo a present, I’ll be back soon Soph. I promise.”

“A present? How long have you been together? You should be more prepared Drake! You know it’s her birthday. This is not the time to go awol, Walker. Or at least explain to her where you are going!”

“Sophie, just please.... just distract her with some shit off of TikTok. I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

An hour or so later after Sophie’s and Drake’s brief conversation- there was a quiet knock at the door, which made them all question who it could be. They had arranged to have a quiet time together as a foursome. Threesome at the moment. As far as they was concerned in the morning; the three of them didn’t want to wake up still drunk from last night. They were still young, wasting their youth. Promising to grow up next summer. They didn’t want Drake to always be in a mood.

“You girls carry on drinking, I’ll get the door.” Maxwell suggested as he leapt off of the bar stool.

“May I help you?” Maxwell questioned as he peered through the peep hole with one eye shut and the other attempting to examine the mystery person. In all honesty, it didn’t help that he was already slightly tipsy. He would be useless as an eye witness.

“It’s me you idiot! Are you going to open MY door?”

“You sound like Drake, but you don’t look like him. How do I not know that you’re here to rob us by impersonating my bestie?”

“One. Do you think that I’d dress like this if I was going to rob you? Two... you are not my bestie Beaumont!”

“Wow! You’re really good at this whole Drake Walker act.”

“Just fucking let me in Maxwell, before I throttle you!”

“How much is Drake paying you? He would actually say something like that to me... okay, I’ll ask you a couple of questions. If you get them right you can come in Drake.” Empathising the name, Maxwell still wasn’t convinced that it really was Drake. His drunk mind wondered why he wouldn’t just use his key and allow himself in.

“What’s my middle name?”

“Percival.”

“Lucky guess. What’s my peacocks name back home?”

“Petunia. Now get the chain off and let me in!” Oh that’s why he couldn’t get in. I forgot that I put the chain on when me and Sophie first arrived. Doh! Safety first!

“Drake it is you!” No shit Sherlock. “You look a complete knobhead by the way. Welcome to Chateau A La Walker.”

“Leave the French talking to someone who can actually express the language, Max.”

“Colson?” Drake sighed looking at Willow. Knowing how ridiculous this whole situation was. “Drake?”

“Tonight Matthew I’m going to be Colson Baker- Machine Gun Kelly. I’ve even got some nail varnish so you can do what Megan does to him in that music video. I’ve got red, pink, purple, black........”

“Drake... I like him and his music. But I love you. I love you for you... why are you doing this?”

“Do you love me more than him and TikTok?” Now that is a predicament to be in. Hmmm...

“Of course I do, you idiot.”

“Thank fuck for that! This wig was itching me too much.” Relieved to finally take it off, he flung it onto the floor- not caring how much it had cost him to recreate somebody else’s look.

“You don’t suit blonde hair anyway. These tattoos are so realistic.” Willow smiled softly towards him.

“Erm....”

“Erm?”

“Well... the reason... that... they look so realistic.....”

“Oh my god you didn’t!”

“Well these ones are just stick on ones. I did have one done this morning- hence why I’m late. I’m sorry.”

“I NEED TO SEE THIS!”

“You will later..... I promise.”

“He’s probably had it done on his arsehole or something? Can’t be as bad as Maxwell’s ‘Turn Back Now’ Pennywise balloon tattoo above his ass.” Sophie suggested and explained with an oblivious Maxwell not understanding why suddenly he was the clown of the group. Drake couldn’t help but blush thinking about his surprise tattoo, in his mind it was ridiculous- he had regretted it as soon as it had began.

“Drake? Are you going to show me? It is my birthday after all...” Fluttering her eyelashes, he was done for. Simple gestures such as these turned him into a big ball of mush.

“Follow me to the bathroom. I’ll show you....” Stripping off out of the ‘rapper’ clothes that he had borrowed to complete his MGK look- he wrapped a towel around him in a flash. Not wanting to spoil the surprise immediately.

“So... don’t laugh, Lo. On the count of three- okay?” She couldn’t contain her excitment, being too eager and intrigued about the tattoo- she quickly whipped the towel away.

“Oh my god. You had a tattoo in honour of me.... Don’t you ever, criticise me for getting a tattoo. The peacock one- I was drunk. You had no excuse to get this. I might actually cry- with laughter. I love you, Drake Walker. Best birthday present EVER! I’ll get us both a drink. Come back into the kitchen when you’re ready.”

Not so little Walker- property of Willow ⬇️

Those words would now be permanently written across his pubic bone. Yes, it would be humiliating if anybody other than Willow found out the true extent of this tattoo. But what would be more embarrassing was if she was to reject his second surprise of the day now her name was on him for life.