#bc you’ve been following me for like what??? 6 months??? and your finger has never misclicked??? seems fake

[slowdive1994]

i just think @literatureisdying needs like an award or smth for never accidentally unfollowing me despite the fact that i am almost always sitting in their biggest fans list

[star-girl69]

Caught You Girl

Georgia Amoore x Fem!Reader

—-

synopsis: georgia fiercely defends what is hers

also hi new pfp 😝

a/n: sorry for not posting in 10 years lol… shoutout to my wifey @cosmopretty bc she helped me w this 🫶 also the pictures at the beginning are from her…. tbh this fic would not exist without her everyone say thank you! this is also so bad but it’s ok ❤️

Caught You Boy - Lana Del Rey (Unreleased)

warnings: mentions of sex, lots of swearing, that’s it i think but lmk if i missed anything!!

—-

@/georgiaamoore my girlfriend is hotter than you and smarter than you and just better tbh (anyways happy 6 months my sweet girl can’t believe we kept it hidden for this long)

y/n.l/n it’s sweet that you think so highly of me but i thought you knew… i’m straight…

georgiaamoore @y/n.l/n bloody hell spare me

kamoreaarnold SOOO WHEN WE GETTING YOUR GIRL ON THE LIVE

y/n.l/n @kamoreaarnold wait i’m important enough to be on a KK ARNOLD LIVE????

kamoreaarnold @y/n.l/n GIRL YES WTF??

user-1 OKAYYYY HARD LAUNCH 😍

user-2 WHO STOLE MY WIFE.

user-3 @/user-2 she’s @y/n.l/n and did you not read the caption? she’s better than you

user-4 let me in there 😫😫

user-5 OMG I’m so happy for y’all 🫶

nika.muhl I feel like a proud mother

You are definitely not famous, despite the ten thousand followers that appeared out of nowhere, but your girlfriend and your friends definitely are.

You’ve been sitting on the floor for a few minutes now, KK Arnold’s phone propped up on the low coffee table in front of you, staring in shock at the rising viewers and the comments that pour in faster than you can read some of them.

Your jaw actually drops a bit when the viewer count hits 300.

You’re not famous. You’re not good in the spotlight. You’re awkward and you stutter over your words, you can’t get it out of your head how many people are watching you and analyzing everything you do.

You’re the new girl. The new person to pick apart.

And even worse, you’re Georgia’s girlfriend. And if the fans didn’t know about her official 6 month post, they can definitely see now that you’re more than friends.

Georgia has her arm wrapped around your shoulders, tucking you into her side- allowing you to feel like you’re hiding away from at least some of the prying eyes as you play with her other hand in her lap.

Her fingers softly work out nonexistent knots at the ends of your hair, and the comforting sound of her and KK’s laughs makes you feel a little bit calmer. You don’t quite forget that all the eyes are there, but they dull.

Another one of the girls here appears over KK’s shoulder, talking to the live, so Georgia turns to you. She presses a kiss to your forehead, keeping her lips there while she whispers softly.

It’s nice not having to worry about keeping your relationship hidden. It’s not like you wanted a secret relationship, it was actually Georgia’s idea. She wanted to make sure you were comfortable and all-in before she introduced you to the world of social media fame.

The one thing that’s not a secret, that’s never really been a secret, is how protective Georgia is.

You joke that it must be something to do with her being Australian, although you don’t really have an idea where that comes from.

She posted a few pictures of you in them, but she never tagged you, and your face was always pretty much hidden- she even posted a picture of the sunset and blocked out your face with her hand, laughing the entire time she did so at how ridiculous it was.

Even though you both knew there was no way she was taking that picture without covering your face.

Georgia didn’t want you to get spooked by how overbearing the fans could be- and she admitted that she selfishly wanted to keep you to herself. But you kinda wanted everyone to know that you were hers and she was yours.

And Georgia was always down for that.

You were trying it. And Georgia was there, at least. And you know you never have to worry about anything when she’s there.

“You okay, princess?”

“I’m fine,” you mumble back, careful not to let your lips move too much so the camera can’t tell what you’re saying.

“Yeah?” She says, squeezing your shoulder, prodding gently.

“I’m good,” you reassure her, smiling. You still feel kinda awkward, and she notices the way you look away from her.

“Are you sure, baby? Because if you’re not comfortable then I’ll end it right now. Or we can just leave altogether. We can grab food, if you’re hungry. Or just go home and sleep.”

“Hey, babe?”

“Yeah?” Her eyes are wide and concerned, her entire focus is poured onto you. Her eyes rake over your body language, her thumb rubs soothing circles into your shoulder, and your hand is caressed softly by hers.

“Stop spiraling.”

She smiles, squinting at you. “Hah. You’re funny.”

“I know I am. Seriously, though, I’m fine. I’ll tell you when I want to leave, okay?”

She’ll drag you away from this live at the first inkling of you wanting to leave. And even if you want to stay, she might drag you away anyways if she’s decided she’s done sharing.

She blinks for a long second.

“Okay, yeah. But seriously, tell me. Even if-”

“Georgia.”

She presses a quick kiss to your cheek, but when that does nothing to lift your unimpressed frown, she kisses your lips.

“Sorry?”

You roll your eyes, looking away from her as she kisses your cheek yet again, this time letting her lips linger. She’s about to say something, you can tell- probably jokingly beg for forgiveness, but you can’t help but notice KK’s side eye in the camera.

“Yes, KK?” You ask with a smile.

She crosses her arms and pouts. “Some of us are single, you know.”

“Awww,” the other girl coos, wrapping her arms around KK’s shoulders. “Is little KK feeling a little lonely? Does little baby need a hug?”

“Man, get off me,” KK says, still with a pout on her face, eyebrows furrowed. She props her elbows onto the coffee table while the rest of you burst into laughter at her antics. “Anyways. Y’all got any questions or anything?”

Georgia’s arm falls down from your shoulders to your waist, her nails lightly scratching your side.

“Who is the new girl?” KK reads off of the screen. “Y’all so rude, damn. This is Y/N, my new best friend and love of my life.”

You laugh, awkwardly waving to the screen.

“Y/N who are you?” KK reads another awkwardly worded comment.

Georgia makes a face and squeezes your waist, silently telling you that you don’t have to answer.

“Who am I? Um… I’m Y/N, I’m twenty-two, I’m in college right now…” You trail off, trying to think of something interesting to say. “My favorite color is pink?”

“Girl why was that a question?” KK laughs.

“I don’t know what to say!” You exclaim, gesturing to the phone. “There’s- oh, my God there’s 856 people on here. Why are you like really famous? Holy shit.”

“Thank you,” KK smiles, twirling a piece of her hair.

Georgia puts her free hand on the side of your face, angling you towards her as she narrows her eyes at the camera.

“She is also my girlfriend. So don’t get any ideas.”

“Girl, I think they can tell,” KK laughs, gesturing to the way you and Georgia are practically glued together.

Georgia shrugs. “I love my girlfriend.”

“We can tell.”

The comments immediately flood in. Some of them are talking about how cute the two of you are, a few of them are obvious jokes about you stealing everyone’s wife, but the one that sticks out to you isn’t anything like that.

wbblvr552022 THAT is georgia amoore’s gf? does she need her eyes checked 😭

You swallow, but thankfully there are so many comments pouring in that no one else seems to catch it.

“When’d you guys meet?” KK reads. “Oh, Q and A time, guys.”

Georgia immediately breaks out into a wide smile, contagious, one that makes you smile too.

She squeezes your waist in excitement before immediately launching into a dramatic retelling of her seeing you with your friends after a game, then her subtle way of inviting you to the next game in the set, then her subtle way of getting your number.

“And… the rest is history.”

KK laughs at the corny phrase, and you can’t help but smile either.

You lean forward to read more comments. “Oh, Georgia- what is your favorite thing about me?”

Georgia immediately presses her mouth into a line.

KK exaggeratedly turns towards the two of you, waiting patiently for an answer. “Don’t be shy, girly. I’m excited to hear this one.”

“I don’t think I should answer,” Georgia says, grimacing slightly. “Feels like a trap.”

“Well, there’s definitely wrong answers.” You pat her cheek with a smile. “C’mon, give it a try.”

“Umm… everything.”

You hum, pretending to think about it. “I’ll accept it.”

“What?” She asks, her eyes wide. “What the fuck is the right answer, then?”

You press your finger to her lips, shushing her. “Don’t worry about it, babe. You’ll get it one day.”

She rolls her eyes, but kisses the pad of your finger pressed against her lips. You can’t help but smile, wondering if the camera picked up that small movement- but you also find yourself not really caring.

wbblvr552022 is it possible to have a favorite thing about y/n? girl is UGLY

user-1 @wbblvr552022 hey this is actually insane!

user-2 @wbblvr552022 wtf is wrong w u?

You frown.

You can’t keep the look off of your face, you can’t help the sudden tightness in your chest and the thoughts facing through your mind.

Why are they so mean? What did you ever do to them? Are they just jealous? Or are they just right?

Do you deserve Georgia?

KK, surprisingly, is the first to notice your frown in the reflection. Her eyes meet yours, and she doesn’t say anything for a second.

She subtlety covers her mouth with her hand.

“You good?”

You’re really thankful that Georgia has suddenly turned away from the two of you to talk over her shoulder with a few girls behind you. You don’t even know their names, you don’t even care.

You smile in response.

You grab Georgia’s free hand, and she automatically tightens her arm around your waist. You tuck yourself into her, breathing in her comforting scent.

She turns back to the camera, barely even noticing the way you’re tucked into her- she’s just happy you’re touching her. You watch her smile at the camera and feel her squeeze your hand.

“Y/N’s sad?” She suddenly asks. She frowns at the screen, and your eyes widen-

user-1 y/n disappearing into georgia over there 😭😭😭

user-2 @/user-1 GOD they’re so cute i cant

user-3 y/n looks kinda sad tho??

user-1 wait you’re right y/n girl what’s wrong

You make a face and do your best to brush it off.

“I’m just tired.” You swear Georgia can hear the lie. “Thank you guys for worrying, though.” You flash the camera a bright smile and a thumbs-up.

wbblvr552022 GIRL put those chompers away 😭

user-1 @wbblvr552022 HELLO???? YALL SEEING THIS?

Georgia is not convinced that you’re okay. You can tell. She’s kinda tense against you, and she keeps looking towards the door like she’s ready to just throw you over her shoulder and leave.

She tries to meet your eyes, but you’re persistent in avoiding her, instead staring at yourself in the camera. You know that as soon as she looks at you, she’ll see it in your eyes. The bit of doubt you can’t hide.

What if they’re just right?

She suddenly squints at the camera, her eyes narrowing as she grabs it- despite KK’s protest- scrolling up as your heart slams in your chest.

“The fuck?”

The pure venom she spits those simple words out with makes KK stop trying to get her phone back.

“Georgia-” You start, squeezing the hand you’re still holding- she lets go of your hand to hold the phone.

“Sorry,” she mutters, her eyes scanning over the comments.

user-1 nice up close view i see

user-2 you got something in your nose queen

wbblvr552022 break up w your ugly ass girlfriend… cause im bored 🎶

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

“Um, hey… G?” KK starts, confused and smiling in a slightly scared way. “What’s goin’ on..?”

user-1 who the fuck is @wbblvr552022 and why have they been literally bullying y/n in the chat…

Your heart is beating so fast right now it’s roaring in your ears. Something inside of you just knows that the only way someone could get this kind of reaction out of Georgia is if they hurt you.

And as much as you hate to admit it, your heart keeps snagging on something in your chest. It does kinda hurt, as much as you want to rise above it.

Georgia hands KK’s phone back to her. She turns to you. Fuck.

“You saw those, didn’t you?”

“Georgia,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself. “It’s just some random person on the internet. Yes, I saw it, but it doesn’t matter what they say, right?”

Your words sound confident and mature, and maybe if your voice could have displayed that too then Georgia would have let it go.

But you’re lying to her- and yourself.

It does fucking bother you, it does make you feel like shit- it makes you want to never go in front of a camera again.

“It’s nothing.”

You finally meet her eyes.

Maybe her being this pissed off should scare you, or concern you- but honestly? The fire in her eyes only ignites a fire inside of you. Deep in your stomach.

“It’s not fucking nothing, the fuck? No, no one gets to treat you like that. No one gets to make you sad.”

You put your hand on her face.

“Babe, it’s really sweet that you want to protect me, but you’re just gonna drag it out and make it worse, yeah? Okay? I appreciate it and I love you, but it’s okay.”

She looks away from you, trying to take a deep breath that sounds more like a pissed-off huff, and your heart is still fucking snagging on something-

“You love me, right?”

You blurt it out before you can even think, all small and insecure, chasing her love and affection that you know you have. At least, you should know you have it. But it’s like something inside of you screaming that you just need to hear it, that she loves you, and you know you’ll regret it forever if you don’t hear her say it right now.

“Fuck this,” Georgia says, practically hissing the words.

She sticks her hand out and KK- who sweetly has been doing her best to not listen to the conversation- gives the phone back.

Georgia props the camera up again, angling it so it’s only on her.

“I’m not fuckin’ playing, okay? I don’t know what the fuck is your problem, but I will literally kill you if you keep saying shit about my girlfriend.” She laughs dryly, but everyone knows there’s nothing funny about the look in her eyes and the conviction in her words. “Don’t talk about her, don’t think about her- don’t worry about my girl, she’s good with me. Worry about yourself when I fucking find you.”

She lets the phone fall back onto the table, crossing her arms, and you can tell that there’s still thoughts racing through her head.

KK slowly grabs the phone.

“Well… y’all heard her. I think it’s time to go, though… so, bye-bye girly-pops!”

She presses a button and closes her phone, and you watch the screen turn to black.

“Well,” you start, looking between Georgia and KK. “That was… something!”

Georgia sighs, itching her nose. “Sorry, baby.”

“Excuse?” KK asks.

Georgia barely cracks a smile. “Sorry, KK.”

“So… uhm… what the fuck happened?”

Georgia gestures towards the phone, huffing. “Someone was talking shit about Y/N. Like, calling her ugly, I- fuck.” She takes a deep breath. “Yeah.”

“Man, really? I’m sorry, Y/N- I would have blocked them if I saw it.”

You smile. “It’s not your fault, K. And it’s not that big of a deal, really. I mean, it sucks, but whatever. I should get used to it, right?”

Georgia laughs. “No. I am never posting you again. I’m never letting you be in a live ever again. They can’t treat you right then they don’t get to see you.”

KK makes a face that forces you to stifle a giggle. “Okay, Ms. Possessive-and-Controlling.”

She smiles. “Is that a bad thing?”

Your cheeks suddenly feel hot, because it’s really not. And you know Georgia is mostly speaking out of anger- she’s not really gonna keep you hidden from the world of social media. She might, for a week or two, but then she’ll probably forget.

“It’s been a lot of fun, KK, but maybe Georgia and I should go home..?”

Suddenly, she has the biggest grin on her face.

—-

Laying with Georgia in your comfy bed, wrapped in comfy blankets, shrouded by darkness with her chest as your pillow is probably where you feel safest. Nothing can reach you here. Social media or physical, you’re completely safe in her arms and the darkness.

“Happy?” You mutter into the darkness, smiling as you think of how mad she was just an hour ago.

“I’m really bloody happy, actually.”

“Very long night of sharing me, huh? Poor baby.”

“I agree,” she yawns. “We shouldn’t ever go out again. We should just stay in this amazing bed.”

“Okay, baby,” you mutter with an eye roll, humoring her.

“Y/N,” she says after a blissful moment. You can hear it in her voice. The concern, the hesitation. “I love you. I love you so much sometimes I’m kinda convinced you put a spell on me. Like, it shouldn’t be possible to love someone this much.”

You smile.

“I’ve caught you in my web,” you tease. “But you walked right into it.”

“Yeah, I did,” she laughs. “But I love you. You shouldn’t have to question that. I’m not doing my job as your girlfriend if you do.”

She kisses your forehead.

“All I want is for you to be happy… right next to me, though.”

You sit up, placing your hands on her chest as you swing one of your legs over her waist.

“I don’t have any plans of leaving. Do you?”

Her hands immediately move to rub up and down you thighs.

“Nope. Also, I change my mind. I want you to be happy on top of me. Or under me, I’m not picky.”

You laugh, leaning down so you can kiss her nose. You hands work out knots in her perpetually tense shoulders.

“Always thinkin’ about sex,” you mutter.

“Always thinkin’ ‘bout you,” she corrects. “And fucking you.”

You’re about to kiss her when she suddenly pulls back.

“You’re sure you’re good?”

You smile at her sweet concern for you.

“Yes, Georgia, I’m good. I mean… I felt kinda shitty for a second. Doubting that I was good enough for you- it’s silly. I know I am. And I’m… trying not to care about what they think.”

She brushes some hair behind your ear, nodding.

“You know I love you, right?” She smiles when she says it, because both of you know she tells you and shows you possibly too much.

“I know you love me,” you smile, your lips ghosting over hers. “I love you, too, my basketball star.” You press a kiss to the corner of her lips- then her chin, and you’re about to kiss her neck-

“As sexy as that is, I still want to show you how much I love you. You doubted I loved you today. We can’t have that happening.”

She sits up, and you sit back on your heels, rolling your eyes. “I know you love me. It was a millisecond, babe-”

Her hands squeeze your waist.

“Why don’t you just shut your pretty mouth and lay on your back?” She kisses your neck, that one special place that only she knows to kiss, the place that she found by loving you and now covets like treasure.

A moan immediately spills out of your mouth.

“I can do that,” you breathe, reveling in the way her hands feel as she helps you lay back.

“I know you can, baby,” she smiles. “Be a good girl, now, yeah? Let me love you.”

You’re really fucking glad that you caught this girl.

—-

[hansolmates]

remote learning (m)

summary; working remote sucks, and you would love a little relief. after buying a new toy to blow off some steam, you’re baffled when you can’t cum. however, jungkook thinks you’re doing it wrong, and shows you a thing or two. pairing; neighbor!jungkook x (f) reader genre/warnings; fluff, humor, slightly insecure mc, this is pure FILTH—use of a remote controlled vibrator, do not and i repeat DO NOT try foreplay during a zoom call in the event u get fired im not responsible, phone sex, jungkook’s a meanie in control, cum eating, doggy, and topping it off with some sweet missionary bc jk has purty eyes, unprotected (wrap the pickle before u tickle folks) excessive use of the petname [redacted] w/c; 5.7k a/n; this fic manifested bc of work. and i!! am!! frustrated!! i think we all need a lil jk relief so here it goes! as always ty to @chillingtae​ / @eerieedits​ for this FANTASTIC fic banner, please go check vivi out if u have taste okok part 2: distance learning drabbles; 01

if u like this fic pls consider giving it a like and a share💕💕💕💕

“Tomorrow morning, same time at 9AM. Remember to have your reports alphabetized and itemized,” your supervisor says, but the only thing you can focus on is the abnormal amount of bonsai plants in his living room. 

“Alright now it’s time for the union to talk COVID protocol,” you frown when Mr. Kim moves ownership of the Zoom call to your union rep, who pulls up a Powerpoint. You feel your eyes burn at the sight: an itinerary containing over thirty-eight slides. 

“For fuck’s sake—” 

You so desperately want to turn off the camera and flop in your bed. Since working remotely you haven’t been operating in the most ideal of workspaces. You live in a one-room apartment with a communal kitchen downstairs, so you really only have four square meters to stretch your limbs around between breaks. You’ve pushed your bed aside and shoved an office chair between the bed and the wall, leaving you to squirm between ten centimeters of space. You have no desk because well, the little rectangle space is prioritized for your portable stove and meals. 

The meeting drones on for another hour, until your brain melts to liquid and your limbs feel like Jell-O. Furthering your anxiety as they talk about protocol that never ends up happening, delays that continue to pile up, and the anger that’s been bubbling between the higher ups and little goldfish employees like you. 

When you finally shut off the camera and fling your laptop under the bed, you still feel unsettled. Probably because your work life and home life have merged together, and it’s hard for you to separate work and pleasure. 

Speaking of pleasure. 

Your hand blindly reaches under your bed, looking for the pretty pink oval you purchased last week. Cleaned and ready to use, the little remote-controlled vibrator sits plainly in your palm. 

Needless to stay you’ve been in a bit of a dry spot these past few months. With a fear to go out and meet someone new, you’ve been left with yourself and your fantasies. That’s fine, but lately your old vibrator isn’t cutting it. It’s unfortunate, you think you’re messing up your libido by buying toy after toy, but you’re horny and lonely. 

Linking your phone’s app to the remote, you ignore the messages that have been beeping your feed since early morning. 

[11:21] Jeon: let’s do lunch! 

[11:23] Jeon: hehe i feel like i belong in mean girls. Do lunch💁🏻‍♀️💁🏻‍♀️💁🏻‍♀️

[2:20] Jeon: u loozer. Come eat dinner with us upstairs @6

[2:24] Jeon: dropping off a snack for u 

Another element of feeling horny and lonely? Jeon Jungkook. 

You two shouldn’t have even met each other. You live off crumbs on the first floor while he and his roommates are livin’ it up on top in the penthouse. One day a few months ago he crashed into you while working out, having run up and down the whole flight of stairs at least three times before deciding to collapse on you between the second and first floor. 

Despite the black mask that hugged his sharp jawline, you had felt nothing but attractiveness ooze off of him. Under his hoodie was nothing but curved muscle. He smelled so soft and sweet despite the fact that he was damp with sweat. 

The rest is history. After that day he seemed to show up everywhere, jogging more prominently on your floor and doing exercises at your level’s gym. He says he likes you, likes your company. He’s wormed his way intermittently, whether he’s seeing you struggle with an armful of groceries or when he hears you screaming over an Among Us match (according to Jungkook, the walls are thinner on the bottom floors.) 

The idea of Jungkook doting on you doubly frustrates you. He seemingly appears as the perfect man, unaffected by the stresses of the world. Jungkook’s job lets him work from home anyway, and he definitely had enough room in the penthouse for his own office. He works out, probably has a girlfriend and enough friends for you to gradually phase out of this weird neighbor interest. 

So you ignore his seemingly harmless messages, focusing on getting the settings right on the vibrator. You feel your pussy jolt a little in excitement, watching the silver and pearl pink oval shake in your grasp. You smile a bit to yourself, immediately finding your iPad for your favorite videos and some pillows to support your back. 

Half an hour later however, that excitement soon goes sour. 

“Fuck,” you bite your lip, frustrated tears streaming down your face, “fuck fuck fuck!” 

This isn’t a set of explicatives out of pleasure, unfortunately. 

No matter what you do, you won’t cum. You can’t cum. Barely wet, hardly a drop glossing your folds. You don’t even want to bother getting out the lube at this point because you are so disappointed. 

The vibrator is going at the highest setting, one that your neighbors can probably hear if they were home at this time of the day. You cease to care at this point, because the job is undone because you haven’t come undone. 

You don’t know why this is happening. Maybe it’s because you’ve had the liberty to touch yourself in complete silence, now that your neighbors have been confined to their homes indefinitely. Maybe it’s because it’s been so long since you’ve relied only on your touch, that your body is tired of the monotony and needs more.

You bang the heels of your feet against your flimsy mattress, feeling whiny and utterly dissatisfied. Pulling the vibrator from your clit, you glare at the infuriating toy.

“You’re supposed to be helping me out of my dry spell,” you chastise, throwing the toy across the bed, sliding onto the carpet, “I get you’re not Jeon’s dick, but you gotta help a sister out.” 

With a sigh, you fall into a bout of exhaustion. Not from a round of orgasms, but from the week’s stress and no way to let it out. 

You wake up bleary and disoriented, practically melding through the mattress. The sky is pink and blue, washed in a sea of corals and purples. It comes from the incessant banging. 

“Stop it,” you whine more to yourself than whoever dares to disturb your sleep, pulling up your panties and a pair of navy dolphin-trim shorts. “Whoever you are I’m comin’ so stop!” 

Swinging the door open in two strides you’re met with a chipper Jeon Jungkook; looking all cute and sweet in his big hoodie and smelling like a rosebud. 

“It’s 6:30,” he narrows his eyes playfully at you, “dinner’s in the oven.” 

“You left your oven on,” you deadpan, turning around to grimace at the mess that’s your one-room apartment. 

“Yes, so we have exactly ten minutes before my kitchen explodes in flames,” Jungkook chirps, closing the door behind you. 

You don’t even bother to tell him to excuse the mess, ignore the pile of bras hanging on your vanity and the unpacked groceries that sit at the edge of your mini-fridge. It’s far too late to salvage your dignity and Jungkook’s too damn polite to call you out on your state of slob. Although, as you pull out a bottle of wine tucked in the back of your fridge you blurt, “I can hear your fingers tingling to clean up my mess.” 

When you turn around Jungkook stuffs his hands in the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie, supposedly to stop himself from cleaning up. With a pout he says, “Can’t help it, Jimin says I’m currently manifesting a strong display of Virgo energy this month. Whatever that means.” 

Jabbing your feet in a pair of slides you follow Jungkook out the door. The hallways are quiet and barren, yet the silence isn’t suffocating as you two pile into the elevator. Jungkook opens the keypad underneath the regular boring buttons, revealing a sleek little set of light-up buttons that have the code to the penthouse. Faaaannnnccy. 

“Tryna look?” he jokes, cupping his hands to block your vision. 

You scoff, “I’m sure it’s something easy like 0000.” 

“You’re wrong. It’s 1234,” he replies cheekily. 

The door dings open and you’re met with yet another door. Jungkook presses his thumb to the biometric scanner, and a pleasant ringer tings in response. 

The penthouse smells like a mix of tonight’s dinner, savory, combined with a cinnamon apple candle. Jungkook is a fan of scented candles, ever since he got a whiff of your lavender vanilla burner. 

“Where’s Taehyung?” you ask, more out of your own anxiousness than anything. Taehyung’s  your buffer, the hyper roommate being someone to distract you from Jungkook’s incessant aura. 

“Dunno,” he shrugs, flicking on the oven light to peer inside. You see the telltale signs of a mean lasagna, the shredded cheese on top crisping to a delicious-looking golden brown, “anyway, you’re my friend first.” 

As grotesque as it sounds, Jungkook always finds his way to worm his way under your skin and find homage there. “Possessive much?” you quirk a brow, folding your arms over your chest even though there’s nothing to hide. 

“What can I say,” Jungkook’s legs stretch out as he squats down to your level, “I really fell for you.” 

“Gross,” you try to convince yourself, ignoring the thudding in your chest, “you technically fell on me, weirdo.” 

Dinner is a quick affair. He cuts slices of lasagna and brings it to the couch, where you’re pouring glasses of wine in crystal glasses. They’re so clean and shiny you can see your reflection in the gold liquid. You grimace at the bottle, normally this would be poured in a mug or your sippy cup, tonight your liquid’s getting a high-end pour. 

You two pull up an old anime to fill up the room, but most of it is spent in playful banter. Jungkook prattles on about his day, showing you all the cool updates he’s achieved during work. An app developer. A very on-brand, lucrative job for him. You love your job but it isn’t nearly as exciting as Jungkook’s, so you just let yourself be supportive and ask questions when needed. 

When the subject of you comes up, you shake your head and stuff your face with another cut of al dente pasta.

“Not interestin’ Jeon,” you mumble, groaning at how delicious his cooking is. What can’t he do? “Is this oregano? Is the secret ingredient toasted oregano—” 

“You’re deflecting.” 

Your shoulders slump, “I’m not very interesting, I tell you everything I do during the week and nothing has changed since March.” 

“Oh, not everything,” Jungkook mutters under his breath. You furrow your brows as his hands stuff themselves in his hoodie pocket. Is he upset you won’t tell him about your work stress? “And you’re very interesting, I’ll have you know.” 

“Yeah?” a small smile tugs on your lips. You sink further into his cottonball of a couch, feeling utterly soft and meldable at his words.

“Very,” Jungkook gets up from the couch, looking down at you, “want something sweet?” 

The prospect of dessert has you excited. Jungkook really is the perfect man, so kind and knows exactly when you’re craving something for your sweet tooth. You move to get up, only for you to sink further between the two large cushions of the loveseat. “Help me, ’m stuck,” you pout.

Jungkook giggles, and holds out his palm, “Hand,” he says simply.

You immediately reach for his larger palm, and you gasp when you feel something cold and soft touch your palm. As if you’ve been burned, you tug your hand back. But Jungkook’s hand is massive, the large ink-painted palm curling around your own, and it’s almost painful the way he clutches your hand so fiercely. 

When he’s sure you’re not going to drop it, he releases your hand. 

Nestled in your palm, is the new vibrator you left on the carpet this afternoon.

“Jeon,” you laugh tonelessly, hating the way Jungkook’s neutral expression mocks you, “you found my USB? Thanks, I know—” 

“Know that you’re having a hard time coming?” Carefully extracting your plate from your lap, he places it on the coffee table before Jungkook cages you between the couch. You shrink further into the plush seat, “I tried being a good neighbor, but you didn’t answer my texts. I heard you when I tried dropping off some snacks before dinner. Didn’t know you were into toys.” 

“Oh, c’mon Jeon. It’s 2020 and we’re confined,” well, in this scenario you’re confined, “everyone has a sex toy.” 

“Hm, I don’t have one,” Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, pretending to be deep in thought, “so, can you be my toy?” 

Fuck. 

It’s then that you feel the tell-tale signs of arousal. Your eyes widen, innocently surprised at the fact that Jeon Jungkook contained so much power in so few words. You snap your legs shut immediately, sealing any possibility of you dripping down your panties. 

“I heard how disappointed you were, doll,” his arms have no problems as he bends down so he’s eye-level with your crotch, “it was pathetic, really. You couldn’t even cum on your own? You need someone to help you?” 

“N-no,” you cross your arms defensively, frowning, “you–you’re being mean, Jeon.”

“And what, you’re gonna cry about it?” Jungkook smirks, now sitting on his knees. His hands run over the velvety fabric of the couch, making a beeline for your thighs. Gooseflesh rises to the surface, and he immediately presses down to iron out the little bumps that travel across your skin, “I do wanna make you cry, but not because you can’t cum. You’ll cry because of how good I’m gonna make you feel.” 

You gape, clutching the vibrator in your hand. 

A little bit of your sweet, cute Jungkook resurfaces, softening when he notices your lack of response, “If you’ll let me, of course.” 

You finally drag the words from your throat, “I-it’s been a long time since I’ve… been with someone.” 

He tilts his head, “Same here. I just figured we could break that spell together.” 

What are you going to say? No? A dishonor to your sexuality, that would be. Jungkook’s offering himself up on a silver platter, and even though you do wish it was a little more you’ll take the sex. 

You nod, forgetting to speak again. Jungkook chuckles. 

“I want to hear you say it, doll.” 

Doll. Like you’re his little fucktoy, malleable and bendable to all his whims. Fuck, why is that so hot to you? “Yes, I want to have sex with you,” you declare, your voice sounding more breathy than confident, “a-and, you can be mean. If you want.” 

His thumbs press little light indents in your skin, over and over as if fascinated by the way your skin is so soft and gummy in his grip. “Okay,” Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to pull out his phone, jabbing a few things that you don’t see, “let’s do a little test drive, then.” 

In seconds, the little egg vibrates in your touch. He puts it on the lowest setting, a soft buzz echoing in the large living room, then at a bruising pace that forces you to curl your fingers around it otherwise it’d fall. Your eyes flicker over to Jungkook���s, who’s focusing entirely on the way the pink and silver egg moves, dilated in interest. 

“Fuck, and you thought this thing was broken?” he asks, taking it out of your palm and turning off the app. 

“Maybe I’m the broken one,” you admit softly, wringing your shirt. 

Silence seeps. Jungkook looks at you, brows furrowed as if he’s annoyed. “Don’t ever say that,” when you don’t respond, he grabs your chin, and you gasp when he forces you to look at him, “you’re not broken, doll. Everyone’s body is different, and we’re going to discover yours together. Got it?” 

“Y-yes,” you reply immediately, mesmerized by his seriousness. 

“Good,” he slaps the vibrator back in your palm, “and in case you’re wondering, this goes inside.” 

“I know how it works,” you scowl, “but won’t you show me, just in case?” 

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Jungkook gets up for good, piling the dishes in his arms and walking to the sink. You immediately miss his warmth, “but I think patience is a virtue. I have a developer meeting with some clients in America a little bit, actually. So just wait for my call, yeah?” 

You frown, looking down at the vibrator in your hands. How much longer would you have to wait? 

It happens at exactly three in the afternoon the next day, at the start of your staff meeting. You’re so tired of the same information being thrown back and forth, coupled with Brian and Jae having to fight over some mundane subject in the itinerary that no one cares about. For goodness sake, it’s Friday! What else would you possibly need to be meeting about? 

You’re wearing a button-down dress shirt on top, no pants on the bottom. Your bare feet slap against the hardwood floor, antsy. It’s been a long day at work and your back hurts, you’re half tempted to dip out of this meeting and hope no one notices. 

Your phone buzzes on your bed, and you blanch. 

[3:01] Jeon: thanks for waiting, doll. It’s time 

[3:01] Jeon: put it in

Shamelessly, your vibrator sits next to your phone, cleaned and ready to go. 

[3:02] Jeon: need help? Answer my call

Making sure that your Zoom call is muted, you quickly answer the incoming phone call. Jungkook and you say nothing at first, waiting. The phone just ticks with the amount of time passing, one minute, two minutes, and so on. 

Mr. Kim drones unknowingly, “So when we do return to live instruction, expect a strict process when returning. PPE must be enforced so our response team will—” 

“How wet were you last night when you went home?” Jungkook asks languidly, speaking over your boss’ voice. 

Your eyes widen, flickering back and forth between the phone and the camera displaying Mr. Kim’s boring speech. 

“Doll, are you hard of hearing?” 

“N-no,” your lips barely move, eyes glued to the camera and plastering an expressionless face, “I heard you.” 

“Then give me an answer,” he says patiently, “how wet were you?” 

“Very wet.”

“Little more detail.” 

“Soaking wet,” you flush, thankful that your work laptop can only stream in 360p. “I haven’t gotten that wet in such—such a long time. My pussy was practically clinging to my underwear when I washed up that night.” 

A heady, heavy groan resonates through your phone. You feel that voice straight into your panties, jolting the nerves awake. 

“Fuck, you have a way with words, don’t you?” Jungkook chuckles breathlessly, “c’mon, touch yourself for me. Swirl your fingers around your clit, slowly.” 

It takes a second for you to position yourself, spreading your legs in a way that your coworkers don’t question why you’re moving so much. A quick scan over all the tired faces says that you’re okay. Shyly, you press your fingers against your clit, doing as he says. 

“Oh,” you say more to yourself than him, feeling the wetness already coating your fingers. This is earlier than usual. 

“What?” 

“I’m already wet,” you say, amazed, “I haven’t gotten wet this quickly in a long time.” 

He scoffs, “If you’re so wet now, shove it in.” 

You frown. You did tell him to be mean. But the idea of him telling you what to do, giving you all the porn-worthy experiences to accomplish has you relenting. Discreetly grabbing the egg from the bed, you bring it down to your panties. Swirling the cold metal around your clit, you coat it in your juices. 

It’s still a little too early to be putting anything in, but you can take it. Slowly relaxing, you slip the little egg in your pussy, wiggling it a little to make sure it’s secure. It’s a strange sort of pressure, and it pokes against your clit from the inside, but you enjoy the stretch. 

“It’s in,” you reply softly. 

“Good.” 

You wait. You listen to Jae make yet another speech about the importance of masks and gloves, and then Brian has to interject and say that gloves are literally useless because they spread germs around no matter what. Even though everyone else is muted, you can practically feel the misery seeping through the screen. For a second you almost forget about Jungkook on the line. Why isn’t Mr. Kim stopping them? This is the thin line stopping you from the weekend, unbelievable! 

“Eep!” you jolt in your cheap seat, the egg buzzing in your pussy. Your hands fly out, gripping the edges of your computer. 

It hits different when Jungkook is in control. Knowing that with a flick of his thumb he can have you careening, whining for more or less depending on how hard he wants you go. Your folds hug the egg, nestling it a fleshy grip as it brushes against your clit the more you squirm. 

“You look so pretty, trying so hard to hold in your moans,” Jungkook says wondrously from the other line. 

“W-what?” you frown, “you can see me?” 

And immediately, you go to your trackpad to fish between the hundred-and-one employees also in this call. At the very end, you see a very simple name with no mic or camera: Jeon JK. He’s here. 

“Worked in IT, doll. Know a thing or two,” he says, “now, tell me. What are you thinking about right now?” 

“Y-you,” you mumble shyly. 

“So,” Mr. Kim finally ends that part of the meeting, thank goodness, “what’s everyone’s plans this weekend? I’m going apple picking with a couple of my friends from college. Hoseok is a bright bean who loves to take long walks—”

What the hell. You squirm uncomfortably in your seat, hyperaware that Jungkook’s watching your every move. You make glossy, stubborn eyes at the camera, trying not to move when he jacks up the vibrator to a higher setting. 

Jae’s of course the next employee to unmute his microphone, “Well, me and the bae are going house hunting…” 

“Fuck!” you cry, moving the computer to the left so you can pretend you’re picking up something. But in fact you're leaning your head against your mattress, frustrated. “I don’t fucking care about your weekend plans, Jae! Shut the fuck up! You wanna know my weekend plans?” Jungkook’s laughing at you from the other line, but it only spurs you on, “my plans are fucking my super hot neighbor! He’s a hundred times more interesting than you and he’s going to make me come a hundred times this weekend—oh fuck!” 

Your fingers latch onto your panties, drawing random squiggles and letters between the fabric. You’re damp, soaked to the core. You need some sort of friction, a reprieve from this hellish week.

“You flatter me, doll,” Jungkook is definitely grinning through the phone, you can practically hear his shit-eating grin, “I think you deserve a reward. As soon as you put the camera back on your pretty face.” 

Quickly, you sit up to put the camera on you again. Once again, the employees are in a daze, listening to whatever the next person gabs about their weekend. Even though you can’t really see it, you’re sure Jungkook has a 1080p camera upstairs that shows off your blotchy face. You moan a little bit, lips closed as the egg buzzes against your pussy lips. 

“You’re so cute, doll,” Jungkook praises, “you look so professional, holding it in. What could I do to make you unravel? Hm, what if you imagined the taste of my cock on your lips? Fuck, I’d love to slap your cute little face with my cock, baby doll–”

“y/n?” Mr. Kim calls your name, and you freeze, “what about you? Any plans this weekend?” 

Jungkook doesn’t sound angry that your boss has inadvertently cut him off. “Answer him, doll. Be a good little employee.” 

Like a zombie, you move towards the unmute button. “I–I uh,” you shake your head, trying to formulate a coherent response, “I’m going on a date this weekend.” 

Jungkook jacks up the vibrator to high, and your legs are shaking. 

“Awh, a date!” Mr. Park unmutes himself, practically shoving the camera in his face, “how much do you like the lucky lad or lady?” 

“I like him uh—ah—” you pretend to think, covering a hand over your mouth to hide the fact that you feel your orgasm fast approaching, “I like him a lot!” you finally blurt, “I’m, uh, really excited to see him.” 

“Best of luck to you,” Mr. Kim says brightly, “so Jimin, any news on those investors you had dinner with this weekend? I heard a lot of positive things…”

You immediately mute your mic, and pretend to lag as you fumble around with the camera. Shoving the laptop to the side once more you groan into your sheets, “Fuck—fuck yes—” you moan, shaking your head as you dip your fingers into your panties. The vibrator still continues at its bruising pace, spurring you to a high you haven’t peaked to in months.

“Good job,” Jungkook says simply, “could barely notice that you have a little helper fiddling around your dripping pussy.”

“J-Jeon,” you cry, “I’m, ’m gonna cum.” 

“Yeah?” Jungkook eggs you on, “you’re gonna cum around that cute little vibrator? Gonna soak it in your juices?” 

“W-wish it was your cock I was soaking,” you whisper truthfully, letting your orgasm take you at the thought. Your folds flutter around the vibrator, bringing you to a level of sensitivity you’ve only dreamt of, “Ah, yes, Jeon. It feels s-so good!” 

“Yes baby,” Jungkook groans through the line, “feels good, huh?” 

Mr. Kim interrupts for the last time, “And with that, I think our meeting is adjourned. Have a wonderful weekend! Stay safe and—” 

You slam the laptop shut, grabbing your phone and keys. “I’m going up,” you mutter impatiently, already jabbing your feet in a pair of slippers and locking the door to your apartment behind you. 

“I’m waiting,” he replies, eagerness trimming his voice. 

“Password?” you ask quickly, jabbing the elevator door shut once you step inside. Thank goodness you’re alone, you think as you pull your dress shirt further down your ass. 

“Did you forget already?” he teases, “I told you, it’s 1234.” 

Thankfully, the doors zip you up straight to the penthouse. The connection is always a little spotty in elevators, and you sigh longingly when you feel the buzz jolt and leave it’s momentum, quickly losing its rhythm between your dripping folds. Once you get to the top and the elevator doors open the second door immediately swings open, revealing a soft but aroused-looking Jungkook. He looks fresh from the shower, absolutely radiant and delicious looking. 

You don’t hesitate to run up to him, and Jungkook immediately cups his face in your hands, pressing his lips to yours. 

You’re practically on your tippy-toes, and you squeak against his lips when he hooks his arms around your shoulders, immediately lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his trim waist, not wanting to stop kissing him. He’s like the sweetest ambrosia, a taste you can’t get enough of. 

The connection to your vibrator has resumed, and you can’t help but grind helplessly under Jungkook’s clothed abs as he carries the both of you to his bedroom.

“N-need you to fuck me,” you bury your head in the crook of his neck, pressing quick kisses to his jawline, “I want you s-so badly.” 

“Hello to you too,” he husks, shutting the bedroom door with his foot. 

Jungkook drops you unceremoniously, and your limbs splay out on the fresh bedsheets of his feather-soft mattress.

“You look gorgeous like this, doll.” he sighs longingly, a hand going under your buttondown to press against your soaked panties. His hand lingers on the way your pussy moves in tandem with the vibrator. 

“J-Jeon please I can’t take it—” 

“Stop calling me that,” he snaps, hands leaving your skin.

You whine at the loss of contact, “Jeon, no. Jungkook. Kook, my Kook. Please, I need you.” 

That gets him going. His pretty chocolate brown eyes zero in on you, and he immediately shucks off his shirt and sweatpants, “How much do you need me?” he asks, pulling out his phone and pressing some buttons, “how much do you need your Kook?” 

The vibrator stops. You cry out in frustration, unsure if it’s because it’s off or because Jungkook’s taking too damn long. “I need you so much, Kook,” you warble with a pout, moving to undo the top buttons of your dress shirt to reveal your cleavage, “honey, you can have me all you want later today. I want you to slap my face with your dick, edge me until I cry, anything. I’m all yours, I’m your little doll. But please for now, I need to feel you inside me.” 

“Say no more,” his lips latch onto your neck, and you sigh at the skin-to-skin contact. His hand fiddles under your shirt, clutching a breast and slapping it so hard it bounces back and forth, “fuck, you’re so pretty.” 

His hand moves to your plain cotton panties, immediately shucking them off, “doll, you really are dripping,” he’s impressed, surprised when he has to untack the fabric from your glossy legs. He hangs the panties on his wooden headboard, a little ornament for him to jack off to later. 

His fingers brush over your folds, wasting no time to slip the vibrator out. He holds it between your faces, forcing you to stare at the pearly substance that coats the entirety of the egg. “Mm, tasty tasty,” he cooes, pink tongue darting out to lick a long strip across the oval. 

You tug him closer, pressing his lips to yours. He tastes a mixture of his own saliva and your arousal, and you grind helplessly against him. You feel how big his cock is, rock-hard and trying very diligently not to bust. He must have a crazy amount of control, and it drives you nuts. 

“Kook,” you frown, bumping your crotch with his.

“Impatient, good thing I am too,” he shucks off his boxers while you unbutton the rest of your shirt, “knees and hands, doll.” 

You don’t care how or what way he’ll take you. Fuck, he could bend you into an Auntie Anne’s pretzel and you’d comply. 

Arching your back so your ass is in the air, you wiggle around, hoping he’ll take the bait. That’s when you sigh, feeling the tip of his dick brush against your wetness.

“Soaking my cock already, baby,” he says, “you’re so good to me.” 

And finally, finally, he slips in. You don’t even care that it stretches you a little too far and too long, it’s been too damn long since you’ve had decent dick and Jungkooks far more than decent. 

He goes at a quick pace, finally showing how impatient he’s been all this time. Your moans and groans fill the room, a symphony of pleasure and pain as he stretches your walls to the brim. You hold a pillow to your chest, feeling woozy at the way his fat cock stretches you out. 

“F-fuck yeah,” the pace is hard, you practically feel it in your belly, and you love it. “You feel so fucking tight, baby,” he’s all up in your ear, kissing the lobe briefly, “I love the way you suck my cock back in.” 

“Kook,” you press your ass back, “harder, please. I’m your little doll, right? Y-you can fuck me however you want, as hard as you want! Please, ah—! Use me!” 

You cry out when he slips from your folds, immediately flipping you on your back. He wastes no time to wet his dick, lifting one leg over his shoulder to have you deeper. This position is far more intimate, and your noses are practically touching as he thrusts into you. 

You can’t believe you’re in bed with Jeon Jungkook. This must be a dream, a really great, really long wet dream. You crumble in his grip, and you lift a shaky hand to run through his thick black strands. 

“Why’d you make me wait so long?” you cry, staring right into his glittering eyes, “why couldn’t you come for me after your call last night?” 

“Why’d I make you wait?” he grits, crushing the flesh between your hip bones so he can have more leverage to pound into you, “why did you make me wait? Since March, I’ve wanted you. I told you I liked you, told you I fell for you.” 

“T-thought it was a joke,” you warble pathetically, breasts bouncing at his relentless rhythm.

“You think th-this is a joke?” for further emphasis, he glides slower, making you feel just how large and thick he is against your folds, “I want you, doll. Y-yeah, fu-fuck. Want to feed you every day, feed you lasagna, feed you with my cum, make you happy.” 

“I—I want that too, Kook,” you’re a pile of pink mush, and you feel your eyes prick from the overwhelming emotions that have washed over both of you. “Sh-shit, Kook. I think, I think I’m gon’ cum again.” 

“Good, you first,” his hand plays figure 8s with your precious pearl, seeping with arousal and coating his cock in delicious lubrication. 

It doesn’t take long for you to cum. You’re holding him as tight as you can, nails digging into his shoulders as you clench around his cock. Jungkook cums shortly after, and you keen at the sensitivity when his hot cum coats your walls. “Baby doll,” he exhales, thrusting lazily. The both of you feel your combined arousal drip between the two of you, onto your skin and onto his sheets, “y-you’re amazing.” 

His softened cock slips out of you, and his hands immediately reach over to swirl around the heady cream over your engorged pussy. You moan when he brings his fingers to your lips, “Open, doll.” 

It tastes salty yet sweet, and you suckle around his finger with a cute little pop. Jungkook grins brightly, feeling like he won the lottery. 

“Are my walls that thin?” you pout, pressing closer to him when he pulls the blankets to your chest. 

“Very,” Jungkook nods with a chuckle, tucking the two of you in, “now get some rest, doll. You presented a lot of offers to me earlier, and I intend to go through with them.” 

You smile into his chest, melty and feeling utterly sated. 

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

some soft!bakugou brainrot for the soul:

-he likes when you greet him in the morning. will absolutely roll his eyes and say sum “jesus, idiot, it’s too fuckin’ early for pathetic enthusiam like that” but will also simultaneously get pouty if u dont say hi to him first

-very much a quiet boy when it’s late at night. will just sit back with his eyes half-lidded and head in his hands, giving a little “mhm” to everything you say. you think he’s not listening but when you don’t finish a thought he will, without missing a beat go “the hell? really? gonna talk that much and then not even finish the story?”

-will cook meals that you like but will insist that he likes them too. bakugou is 100% trying to convince you that he made it for himself but the entire extra portion with your favorite toppings implies the opposite

-pays attention to what you’re doing in training, and will not outright tell you if you’re doing well,, but when ur alone he’ll just sorta “you looked less pathetic than last time, dumbass” with a slight smirk as he brushes past you

-likes to bicker,, i mean come on, obviously, but what i mean is that he just looks so weirdly happy when u yell at him (def goes heart eyes but literally do not say a word about it pls)

-goes very soft for hand massages,,, just like, ground ur thumb into the heel of his hand and rub at his knuckles. man’s will melt into wherever he’s sitting and close his eyes

-will absolutely bite your head off if you’re reckless, but then spend the rest of his time trying to think of ways to avoid u ever being in that much danger again

-remembers places you’ve been together very clearly. so like, if y’all wanna revisit some restaurant, bakugou is leading the way and ur just like “??? that was 6 months ago how do u know where you’re going” ,, n he just scoffs and “because i’m the best. now shut up and pay attention we’re about to cross the street”

-is very soft about u wearing his clothes but only when no one else is around to see it. idk contrary to popular belief i actually see him being very flustered by the sight of u in his clothes. so he won’t let u wear anything around others rlly, but when it’s just him??? poor bby is so soft for it. like, v much hiding his red face in your neck and just breathing u in type of soft

-has a specific blanket that he keeps for when u hang out. eventually it starts to smell like you, bc obviously, n he’ll cuddle up with it when you can’t be with him

-adores when you sing to him. 100% doesn’t matter if you’re good or not,, bakugou just likes that you don’t do it in front of anyone else

-likes when you get needlessly angry with him. idk how to explain it,, but just like, if he’s bitching at one of his friends and you back him up, purely bc u like the chaos, bakugou will be totally 🥰 over it. only after he’s done yelling tho

-mans has a thing for praise. he does. we been knew. but he rlly has an even bigger thing for mundane praise, like rlly small things like, “wow your handwriting is so neat” or “omg your room is so clean! you’re so organized!”,,, jus tiny stuff in passing that let’s him kno he’s doing good

-will absolutely not admit it but he 100% prays for lint on his uniform so you’ll brush it off for him. it’s like, a tiny little touch, just enough to sate him, but not so much that it feels like embarrassing pda

-is a sucker for someone he can just sit in silence with. like idk, if y’all noticed it, but he literally has like, nothing to say when he’s not bitching, so if he’s not angry he’ll just be quiet. if u can be quiet with him, in the same space but not talking, bakugou is a very happy boy about it

-he likes to know things about you no one else does,, so if u tell him anything in confidence, literally anything, he’ll keep it secret. 100% every time, no exceptions, will never spill a single detail even if someone is begging him to

-probably demands that u say u love him multiple times before y’all go to sleep. its the only affection he outright asks for so u give in every time

-shares whatever he has with u. just wordlessly will hand u a piece of whatever he’s eating. doesn’t warn u if it’s spicy tho,, bc he’s still a little shit

-sort of just follows you wherever you’re going. like, if u tell him u want to be alone he’ll leave, but otherwise he just kinda assumes he’s meant to follow. most times he’s right

-he is 100% the type to know something is wrong without u having to say it. he prob knows exactly what it is too. lmao like, sure, he’s still totally clueless on how to approach/support you but bakugou is the furthest thing from dumb. he knows,, he just does.

-gets super protective about your things. like, god forbid somebody try to write anything in ur notebook while you’re not paying attention,, bakugou’ll threaten them before their pen even touches the paper

-he likes to tend to your injuries. like, even the rlly minor ones. like, let’s say u get a papercut??? pls mans is grabbing your finger, running it under water, and wrapping a bandaid around it before u even register it. he’ll grumble the whole time like “jesus, dumbass, can’t believe i have to do this.” but rlly he enjoys doing it bc it makes him feel important. like maybe he’s someone heroic to u

-if no one else is around, and there’s a lot of trust established, he’ll prob do whatever u tell him to. now ofc there’s gonna be a lot of complaining, bc it’s bakugou, but he’ll do it

-is a big fan of when you tell him he’s your favorite. pls the man is so see-through ahaha,, u could be like “omg! bakugou! you took out the trash without me asking?? that’s why you’re my favorite!” n all he walks away hearing is “they think im the best. i fucking am the best.”

-he likes to watch you do mundane things. like rlly little, every-day things like brushing your hair or tying your shoes. idk he just thinks your methodical movements are weirdly calming

-is a sucker for forehead kisses. like obvi, only when y’all are alone, but like, press a kiss to his hairline?? suddenly it’s rip angry bakugou, soft bakugou hrs only

-doesn’t rlly initiate touch that much,, but when he does mans is extremely petulant about it. like, if u decide u have something more pressing than him, bakugou is almost immeadiately going “that’s fucking stupid. what you’re doing. you should stop.” n then he’s just poking and prodding and needling at u until u fall into his arms

-shadows you at social gatherings. very guard-dog like from an outsider perspective, but rlly it’s just bc when katsuki says he doesn’t like anyone else, he means it. he’s sticking by you bc you truly are the only one he tolerates

-he secretly rlly likes when u fuss over him. like, when u ask him if he’s sore from training or if he has any injuries. bakugou will brush u off like the absolute bitch that he is, but secretly he’ll be so warm about it. he just likes that u care enough to ask

-he tries very hard to be gentle for u. ofc it pretty much never works bc it’s him, but he’ll still forever be reading romance manga n going “yeah, i bet they’d like that. gonna it do it way better though. im the fucking best, i can do it.”

ahahaaha me?? a bunch of bakugou thoughts?? never, idk what ur on about

[shivada-jade]

codename: vind

older sibling!reader

characters: diluc, kaeya ➡ mentions: adelinde, crepus, la signora warning(s): alcohol consumption, swearing, and because for some reason, older siblings tend to be shorter than younger siblings. iDK WHY but ugh, yeah you're shorter than diluc and kaeya bc you're the older sibling. ik, i hate it too

like, i wanna be a tall 6'2 woman

diluc's 5'10 so u can still be tall in the story.. just not 5'11 😢 sorry over 5'10 folks

➡ WRITTEN BEFORE 2.1 so uhh :D

notes: platonic w diluc and kaeya, duh bc ur the older sibling. sibling love!!! sibling love !! woop woop !

"Dad, I'm home!" You bellow out to the house, waving a polite hello to Adelinde who looked shocked to see you. You kick off your shoes and slide your way to the long table in the living room, swiftly grabbing an apple before heading upstairs.

Your hands graze the railings and make your way up to find your dad. Upon reaching the last flight of steps, you were suspicious with how the place was very quiet. Granted, your younger brothers are now adults, but it still felt too quiet. Maybe you expected to see your brothers playing a game of chess, maybe bickering and fencing. You were hoping to see your family after being away.

You were a part of the Fatui under the Mondstadt branch. It was and at the same time wasn't a choice to be roped into the Fatui. You got roped into the wrong group of friends and found yourself blackmailed by the infamous group.

You didn't want to join. You didn't want any of it. You've been disconnected from the world. Wiped out from the face of Earth. No one gave information to you, you couldn't learn anything about what's happening currently. The most you could do was send letters, but even those were difficult to send out. You had to do it in secrecy or you'd be in trouble.

Love, the better sibling,

[Y/N]

Or another common send off is:

Please write back soon,

[Y/N]

And your family never failed to send back letters. They asked what you're doing, where you are and how are you, still you never told them your occupation, fearful of what they would think and where your loyalties lie, so you told them you were working under an adventurer.

It's for the greater good. You remember trying to convince yourself.

You're a horrible person.

You were sixteen then. Your younger brothers were twelve. It's been 10 long years since you last saw them, and 6 years since you last received a letter back. You miss them dearly. You often wondered what sorts of adventures they did without you.

But why are you wondering about this? You knew what they did: you knew everything that happened.

You're living under a heavy burden.

"Dad?" You call out again. Maids and wine makers look aghast when they see you, and they're on the verge of fainting when you call out to your father.

Stop the act.

It's strange how the letters were suddenly cut off. The last letter you received was from Kaeya, telling you how you needed to come home straight away. You tried to, but the Fatui prevented you from doing so. A lady called La Signora supervised you directly to make sure you didn't leave.

You know...

Adelinde brushes the dust off her uniform and hurries up the stairs to catch up to you, "Dear, is that you [Y/N?]"

"Did you forget me that easily? I'm offended Miss Adelinde," you chided, but the teasing look in your eyes give Adelinde relief to know you aren't actually offended. "Miss, where's dad?"

You're sickening.

Adelinde takes one look at you and squeezes your shoulders with a smile, "I'm afraid that's not for me to say. Master Diluc should be able to-"

"Oh, where's Diluc and Kaeya?" You ponder, and the corners of your lips curl upwards. "Those two were always attached to the hip. Where are they now? Horseback riding at the vineyard? Ha! I-"

You glance at Adelinde's watery eyes and stop your babbling. "What's wrong Miss Adelinde?" You reach for her hands on your shoulders and hold them. "Ah, has father been making you work too hard? I can request him to lessen your load."

Adelinde shakes her head no. "You don't have a clue, do you? Oh," she sighs. "Please, rest yourself by the fireplace. I'll prepare tea for you." She rests her hands back at her side and scurries to the kitchen.

You frown, unsure why she's jumpy, but you follow her request and sit by the fireplace. The crackle of the fire contrasts the tense air you feel when maids brush past you, offering tea Adelinde made. You thank them, gently blowing on the drink.

After taking a sip, you place it down with a pinky to lessen the noise it makes on the table. You hear the door open, and the choruses of maids greeting someone.

"Welcome home, Master Diluc," you hear and other voices saying, "We've prepared a meal for you and your sibling, would you like to rest yourself?"

You peek from your chair, he obviously hadn't realized you yet.

Diluc's lips make a thin line and shrugs off his jacket, "Why is Kaeya visiting. Isn't he supposed to do his knightly duties?"

You have no clue why he says it like that. The venom in his voice sends a shiver down your spine. You decide this is your cue to give him a warm welcome. You stand from your seat, and open your arms in a grand gesture and waltz to your brother. "Diluc! It's been a while huh?"

You clearly see him tense hearing your voice. His head snapped to your direction with his mouth parted. The maids respectively take their leave, bowing before they do so.

Diluc looks you up and down, still not believing you're there, like you're just his imagination. His hand slowly reaches out to you as if you're a dream.

Your feet lead you closer and you grasp him tightly in an embrace.

He freezes, but slowly relaxes in your hug, reluctantly bringing up his own arms to wrap around you. You feel his grip tightening, and you feel his shake out silent sobs. His face buries in your neck, letting tears fall on your clothes.

You soothe his back, and press a kiss on his hair. "I'm home, Diluc."

He trembles, pushing himself away to look at you clearly. Why hadn't you come home earlier? He wanted to vent, he wanted to yell, shout, he wanted to know how much he missed you in your absence.

He clears his throat and coughs in his fist. "You should have told me about your arrival," he adjusts the gloves on his hands, and looks to the floor like he did when he admitted he accidentally broke your toy when you were 10.

After these years, he still looks up to you as his older sibling. Not a thing has changed.

But you couldn't help but notice one thing. You knew Diluc and Kaeya had matured, you knew they would grow taller, but shit, now Diluc's taller than you.

"I sent a letter a month ago," you began. "It should have been sent to your office in the Favonius Headquarters? That's where I send my mail after you told me about your promotion to Cavalry Captain."

You squish his cheeks with both your hands. "Because I know you're a workaholic and only respond to letters that mean business, so that's where I sent it off to. You never write back, neither does Kaeya," you pause, thinking for a moment. "Neither does dad. Tell me he hasn't gotten sick that he couldn't respond to my letters."

Diluc lifts your hands off his face and frowns. He doesn't know how to break the news to you- not when you look so excited to be home and tell of your adventures to your family, so he asks, "Did you eat yet?"

You note the frown on his face. "'What's got you grumpy," you prod. "I need to find dad first. Told him in the first letter I gave him, I'd give the first gem I find."

Diluc watches you leave him to go to Crepus' room on the second floor. He hears the thuds on the floor and the opening of the door, but does nothing to stop you. You left with a smile, and you come back confused.

"Why is dad's room empty?"

How cruel.

...

Kaeya hums, passing by Flora's shop and purchasing a Calla Lily for the sake of it. He is well aware of the Fatui that stand by corners. Whispers of the wind give him intel, and so does alcohol apparently. He leans on a wall right outside Angel's Share, watching two Fatui members drink some of the tavern's strongest alcohol, imported from Snezhnaya.

"That damn," the one with the red and black mask hiccups, lifting a mug with foam overflowing. "Damn brat's gonna snitch on us to the Knights- *hiCC* boss lady wou- *HicC* would have our heads!"

Thankfully, their more responsible Fatui friend takes the mug and switches it with their drink, water. "You're the one who let Vindicta out of your sight when you know their frequencies to escape. This is all on you, buckaroo."

One of the Fatui escaped? How peculiar.

Kaeya hums, in steady strides he shows himself to the Fatui and takes a seat from another table and sits in front of the two. "My, my, my. If it isn't the wonderful Fatui," he divuldges. He twirls his Calla Lily around his fingers, amused with the Fatui's reactions.

Their mouths drop, knowing who he is and they hastily clean themselves up by sitting straight and wiping away the alcohol from their faces. "Good evening, sir."

"Evening to you too," he places the flower behind the person's ear, flustering them. "Well? Drink up. Everything you order will be on me."

The Fatui look at each other, skeptical with Kaeya's kindness, but the drunken one accepts the offer. Kaeya celebrates in the inside as he slowly gains Fatui intel.

Though, the second Fatui whom he dubbed the "Responsible One," took a while for them to take a sip. Turns out, they couldn't handle alcohol, that's why they avoided drinking it.

"So, my dear friends," he slides a coin on the table and stares both of them down. "A mora for your thoughts? I couldn't help but notice the tense of your shoulders when you first arrived here."

Responsible One raises their mug drunkenly, and gives a pointed look, "You... you know too much. How?..." They stare at their friend and whisper shout, "Don't tell him about Vind or-" They fail to continue their sentence and pass out on the table.

Kaeya feigns a surprised face and looks at Fatui number 2, "Who exactly is Vind? I'm sure you don't mean the storm watcher up at the cliff." He coats his voice with sugar, and it seems Fatui friend fell for his kindness.

"The damn brat," they spit out before hiccupping again. "Recruited them, fed them, saw potential, gave a home, and they escaped."

Kaeya nods and pushes another bottle of wine to the Fatui's direction, urging them to continue.

"Was supposed to be one of the Agents to spy on the *hiCc* to spy on the Ragnvindr family, because *HicC* Vind was one of the best there is. They were about to be promoted Harbinger after an assignment *hiCCUpp* but then Big Boss Lady said 'End the Ragnvindr legacy,' Vindicta left without a word. They escaped."

The Fatui downs another bottle of wine. "But judging from Boss Lady's reaction, Vind did the job: killed him and placed the blame on the Knights."

The Calvary Captain knits his brows and places his hands in front of him. It laced themselves and he watches the Fatui person empty out his wine.

"I'd be careful of what you say if I were you." His lone eye glints dangerously.

"End the legacy?" Kaeya frowns. "Can I ask..." He couldn't ask why or the Fatui would stop talking to him. "Can I ask when your beloved spy did their job?"

The Fatui waves a hand, "Six years ago. After they killed that damn aristocrat's father, they tried escaping. Big Boss supervised them under their watch. 'Potential' the Harbingers always say, but I don't see the potential in them if they don't have loyalties under the Fatui. A wild card, really."

They lay their cheek on the table. The temperature drops quite dangerously. Kaeya's diamond eye glints with coldness before it turns back to warmth.

"Rumours have it," the Fatui sighs, playing with his empty mug. "The training Vindicta went through is rougher, so we were hoping they would tie their loyalties to us. We let them explore once, and they escaped under my watch. Maybe it was their assignment to leave, maybe it's not, because Boss Lady was okay with it, she said 'Vindicta will always return in our hands.' when they first escaped, and surely enough they do return. But either way, I'm fucked for letting them go missing the third time of the week."

Kaeya laughs with no soul and quickly ends the lovely 'conversation.' He pushes himself from the table and stands, "Thank you for chatting with me, it's been interesting." He tucks in the chair and glances at the two Fatui dozing, or close to dozing off.

He swiftly turns away, scoffing when he's out of sight from people. Vindicta is a dangerous card. Not even the Fatui know where their loyalties side.

Vindicta. How peculiar indeed.

One of the best Fatui, which probably meant they were payed well with respect and mora, but why are they labeled as an escapee when they always return? With someone as dangerous as a Harbinger, who do they side with- the Fatui or something else?

Kaeya has a lot of questions.

...

Diluc sits on a cushioned chair and hunches over, resting his chin on his hands, thinking.

Always thinking.

The once lit fireplace is soaked with water he splashed over. The scent of burnt wood wafts nearby. The light chatter of maids go through one ear and leave the other.

How long had it been since he last saw you?

Eternity is his answer. It's been eternity since he last saw you.

He lets out a long sigh, throwing his head back and running a hand through his untied locks.

Too much thinking for today. Diluc groans in frustration and sits back up. He turns his head slightly, seeing you in the corner of his eyes taking out boxes of things you owned from 10 years before.

It doesn't make sense to him. Why come back so suddenly after years of not seeing you? Though, you claim you sent him letters, he never got them because he closed himself off from the Knights.

"Diluc," you set down a small picture of a family portrait you took out from hiding behind many books.

You are taking this oddly well.

You're taking this too well, in fact.

This raises a red flag for Diluc. He told you the fall out of your family, how he quit the Knights, but still you're going around the place like nothing had happened.

Don't you feel any rage? Or even sadness?

He sees too many red flags and hates it- from the way you can hide things like Kaeya so easily, to the way you just suddenly appear back in his life. It feels weird. It's not easy to let someone that in quick, yet you're still his role model, so it's okay, right?

He's always looked up to you when he was younger. You never were at a loss of words and stood up for him. You were the person he can turn to when something wrong happens, but what were you doing for yourself to be gone for so long? Adventuring Teyvat could not have taken ten whole years. Where did you even stay?

"Diluc," you crouch in front of him and talk to him as if he were six again. "I'm okay, okay?"

Diluc takes a shaky breath and sits up straight. His posture resembling a king's. "I have an idea, and I would like you to help me."

You look at him in awe. The realization settles in: Diluc has grown, and you're still stuck trying to make up the past.

"And what do I help you with?"

"Finding who's responsible for father's death."

notes: had this in my drafts for a long time and i was like "wait where was i going with this..." until BAM i have the idea again so im gonna continue it

(part 2)

[lovesanmotion]

Light - Jeong Yunho

summary: cool uncle by day but mafia boss at night, jeong yunho is ready for anything; except for falling in love.

tags: @couchpotatoaniki (yes i am tagging you bcs you blossomed this idea to me hihi)

A deep sigh left Yunho's lips, lighting up his cigarette and sticking it between his lips before releasing pearly white smoke. His once neat suit was now covered in sweat, dust and a trickle of blood from earlier events, singlehandedly killing a mafia group from the neighboring city. He lifted his wrist watch and checked the time - 10:01pm. Sandwiched between his middle and index finger, Yunho raises his cigearette stick onto his lips and puffed out a smoke.

His once cool composure broke when around the corner, the slim but curvy figure of his neighbor - y/n y/l/n came into view. She had her head hung low, shoulders drooping down and walking gloomily home. But Yunho stared at her. Around y/n, he felt like a high school boy who has a crush on her. He didn't also missed the fact that it was too late for y/n to go home. Work hours ends at 5-6pm, but 10? Yunho wondered if you took an overtime.

As y/n passed him by, he couldn't help but smile to himself. Feeling his face heating up. Getting up from the bench, he dropped his stick and stepped on it before following you home. With his hands tucked inside his pockets, Yunho wondered why you ever chose to live in a dangerous city like this. Was it because the rent's cheaper? Or to live close to your office?

He stopped his tracks and hid behind a pole, watching you get inside your home building safely. Watching you get home safely is what Yunho's been doing ever since you moved into the area and with a smile on his face, Yunho walks back home.

As the sun sets into the blue sky, Yunho packs up a lot of candies in his pocket before leaving his home and strolling to the neighborhood park. Clad in a bright red and white striped shirt and pants a bright smile on his face, Yunho would never be mistaken as someone who killed a group of guys last night. The cool breeze swept past him, causing his bangs to fly away.

As he found the children playing merrily and happily in the park, his heart swelled with an overwhelming feeling. How he wished these children would grow up into kind and humble adults. When the children saw him coming up to them, a chorus of "uncle Yunho!" greeted him, followed by all of them running up to him for a hug, some even hugging his legs.

Sitting down on the wooden bench, he gave each child a piece of candy and chocolate. Their little smiles upon tasting the fruity and sweet treats brought a smile on his lips too. However, Yunho mentally did a head count on the children.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9. One was missing, and the one missing happened to be his favorite. He was about to open his mouth and ask them where y/s/n when a small but cheerful "uncle Yunho!" greeted him from behind. Turning around, his eye's widened.

His neighborhood crush, holding an ice cream cone with one hand and the other holding hands with his favorite child from the playground.

"Mommy this is uncle Yunho! He's the one who always watches us and gives us candy when we play here!" A deep shade of red plastered on Yunho's cheeks. Slowly he turned away and sunk a bit lower on his seat, feeling himself getting shy. But he was a little surprised to know that y/n has a son.

Yunho watched as y/s/n joined the other kids in the slide and on his left side became occupied by you.

"Doesn't it get a little sad when you watch them slowly grow up? One day they are only crying for attention and the next thing you know you walk with them to preschool." Y/N spoke, taking a lick on the vanilla cone.

"Do you have kids at home?" Yunho shook his head. But he would very much like to have one with y/n.

"I'm y/n by the way!" He looked at the hand extended out for him to shake before looking at your smile. Yunho's heart beated loudly inside his chest, not missing the sight of the ice cream on the corner of your lip. He slowly leaned in and raised his hand, wiping the cream away with his thumb.

"Nice to meet you, y/n. I'm Yunho." He smiled at you, seeing that pink tint across your cheeks. Yunho thanked the gods that this might be the chance for him to properly talk to y/n. He turned to his side and striked up a conversation with you, slightly getting distracted with the way how you lick your ice cream.

"Uh..hello? Earth to Yunho?" Yunho snapped out of his trance and shook his head, batting his eyelashes. Yunho stared at you. "What was that again?"

"I was asking you earlier if you wanted to have lunch with me and y/s/n. Think of it as a thank you for watching over my son." Turning his head, he saw the children leave one by one until it was your son left sitting in the swing.

"I-I would love to!" He blurted out, maybe a little too loud. Yunho suddenly backed away, suddenly feeling shy but he only found y/n chuckling at him.

"That was cute. Anyways, let's me show you where I live." As Y/N got up, so did he. He took the pleasure of carrying y/s/n in his arms as he followed you to your place, he had to pretend he didn't know where you lived. How was he going to explain that he has been following you for months already?

"Welcome to our place!" Spoke Y/N in a cheerful tone. The place didn't look half bad. As he sets y/s/n down and removes his shoes by the doorway, he took in the appearance of your place. It isn't big nor small, perfect for two people living, light wooden floors, cream colored walls, yellow and green cupboards and a mini bookshelf thats occupied by books about numbers, letters, alphabets and story books.

"This is a nice place you've got" Yunho says, sitting down on the couch only to be sunk lower as he didn't noticed how the couch was small.

"I guess I was lucky to find this one. More greenery in the province than just seeing buildings in the city." Y/N spoke, Yunho watched her enter the kitchen. He got up and excitedly followed her like a high school boy following his crush around school.

"What are you going to make there?" He asks as he stood behind Y/N making her jump a little. Yunho didn't realized how close he has gotten to her, but he felt like his heart would burst at how small she is close to him.

"Does pasta sound nice?" Y/N tilted her head to the side. If only his mornings were spent this close to y/n, Yunho would be in heaven already.

As Yunho was about to say something, in came little y/s/n holding his school bag.

"Mommy, can you help me with my homework?"

Two heads snapped to look at y/s/n who stood by the doorway of the kitchen.

"Your mom would love to!" Yunho smiled at y/s/n, held y/n by her shoulders and pushed her out of the kitchen despite her many protests against it. Yunho opened the fridge to check what ingredients were available, he grabbed whatever he needed and placed them on the counter and started cooking.

It was only like last night, he was using the very same knife to slice throats and now he's slicing meat with the same knife. But Yunho was only occupied by the merry thought of cooking for his crush.

After half an hour passed, Yunho beautifully plated three pasta bowls on the table. He gave himself a pat in the back for doing an excellent job and was about to call y/n and y/s/n to eat when he heard some talking.

"Mommy do you like uncle Yunho?" A small voice, y/s/n, as Yunho thought. His heart raced upon hearing this kind of conversation. There was a moment of silence, Yunho was fidgeting to know your answer.

"Mommy can uncle Yunho be my dad?" Yunho clutched his chest dramatically, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. But there it was again, that silence.

"Let's see, y/s/n. Want to see uncle Yunho if he's done?"

Yunho started to get up from his spot but hit his knee in the process, an inaudible sound came out of his mouth and suddenly the door swung open. Y/N and Y/S/N stared at him with a blank yet confused looks on their faces.

"Uh..lunch is ready!" Yunho smiled and instantly stood up from the ground. As he lead them to the kitchen, he was proud to see their expressions and sat down, paying attention to y/n's reaction before eating.

"So what do you do, Yunho?" Y/N asked while twirling pasta with her fork.

Yunho racked up his brain to think of what should he say. But he choked up in between.

"I'm unemployed at the moment" He says. There was no way he is ever going to tell that he kills people, raids warehouses and factories and regulates drug deals within in and out of the country. "What about you? What do you do for a living?" Yunho gulped the food down his throat before facing you.

"I, uh...I just work at, at a very boring corporate office. They don't pay much."

"Is that why you do overtime and get home late at night?"

"What?"

"What?"

Yunho stared at y/n wide eyed. That was wrong of him suddenly mentioning it to you. He shook his head and carried on the conversation by changing the topic.

For the whole afternoon, Yunho stayed with Y/N and Y/S/N, watching kids movies while having a snack. Y/S/N falling asleep in the middle of the movie. Yunho took the pleasure of letting y/s/n sleep on his chest, he could get used to being a househusband. With the sun setting, Yunho thought it was best for him to go home. But was stopped by y/n to join them for dinner. On the outside, Yunho thanked you. But on the inside, Yunho was giggling.

He cooked once more in the kitchen, clogging out y/n's protests. Dinner became a happy meal as all three of them became full. While y/n was cleaning up in the kitchen, Yunho asked permission if he could take y/s/n out for a walk, promising he'd be home by 8pm.

Yunho took y/s/n to the convenient store, handing him a whole bar of chocolate in his small hands. But the little boy stared at him.

"But mommy says I can't have too much sweets" the small boy pouted.

"But your mom isn't here right? This'll be our little secret. You and me." Yunho grinned at the small boy who flashed a toothy smile in front of him.

"Uncle Yunho do you like my mommy?"

"Very much." Yunho suddenly stopped as he looked back at the child with him, now grinning at him.

"Okay, that's another secret between us. Don't tell your mommy about that too okay?" The small boy nodded his head quickly, Yunho held his hand and walked back home with him. Unaware of two eyes following them as they head back.

(gif is not mine! credits to the rightful owner!)

[1plus1kiyoomi]

Chapter 7: Green Light

[prev] [next]

[masterlist]

note: i don’t know why i can’t edit chapter 6 so hopefully you reach this chapter

2 weeks.

2 weeks have passed ever since that night Yuta walked you home, the same night that you and Kuroo got into the biggest fight you’ve ever had. The doors were slammed, the remote of the TV flew from one wall to another, your voices were on top of your lungs.

Kuroo threw words he shouldn’t have, like accusing you of cheating on him. You even went on your knees just to prove to him that you didn’t. Apology after apology. You didn’t even know why you were asking for forgiveness when you did nothing wrong. He told you to leave, you should have, but you didn’t. You couldn’t leave him. You love him way too much even if he does you so wrong.

Kuroo has all red lights turn into green and you let him drive you insane.

But you’re getting tired of the ride that doesn’t have a destination.

——————————————————————————

“Just go see (Y/N) at her office,” Kenma tells Kuroo as the two are looking over files. “My secretary and her secretary are friends. I can ask for her schedule if you want.”

“Why would I?” Kuroo scoffs confidently and his friend deadpans at him. “What? It’s not like I miss her or something.”

“You’ve been writing her name and scratching over it like a teenager going through a heartbreak. I thought the two of you made up already?” Kenma rebuts and the raven head pouts.

“We did.” Kuroo continues to read the document, trying his best not to get distracted by invasive thoughts of you. ‘But she isn’t chasing after me like she used to.’

You really have been different. Yes, you still message him and act sweet around him, but it seems like you’re forcing your actions, especially sex. Whenever you have time to go home, you two only do the deed, then sleep, and then he wakes up to an empty bed again.

Sex is good, great even. Kuroo loves doing it with you. But it isn’t enough. When was the last time you went on a date? Or ate a meal together? Or talked about your days? When was the last time you told him you love him?

“So why are you moping around?”

‘Because I miss her,’ Kuroo’s inside thought speaks in volume. He really does miss you but he can’t say it out loud. “I don’t know man. I guess because of work.”

“But aren’t you here with me because you barely have work to do?” Kenma says in an almost teasing tone. Kuroo just rolls his eyes and ignores his friend. Oh how the tables have suddenly turned. Kenma is the one teasing him now.

Kenma then realizes that Kuroo has finally started caring about you.

Kuroo arrives at your workplace earlier than your meeting time because he’s that excited to see you. He even bought flowers for you and pastries for your workmates. It’s his way for thanking them for taking care of you at your work. Also, it’s to let them know that you’re together so they stop shipping you with other people.

“Oh, Kuroo, you’re here,” Terushima greets him as they meet in the lobby. “(Y/N) has an emergency photoshoot today so I guess it’s your lucky day.”

“Photoshoot for what?” Kuroo raises an eyebrow as he follows Terushima inside the studio of your office. There are big lighting equipments, a huge white backdrop in the room, and a lot of wedding dresses.

“For our wedding dresses catalogue. Usually, Alisa does it but she’s sick today so (Y/N) has to take her place,” Terushima explains and Kuroo nods in comprehension. “I think she’s preparing for the last dress already so you don’t have to wait long for her to finish.”

Terushima gives Kuroo a chair he can sit on and directs him to a spot where he can see you while you shoot. While waiting for you, he hands out goodies to your coworkers, bowing and thanking each one of them.

Not long after, you come out in a white tulle ball gown with white flower petals on the bodice and ends of the dress. Your hair and makeup done bridal style: subtle, elegant and will surely take the groom’s breath away. Kuroo doesn’t know why but his breathing pattern suddenly changes and his heart beat picks up a rather speedy pace.

You literally and figuratively took his breath away.

‘I feel like I’m gonna have a heart attack,’ Kuroo thinks without knowing that he has a sweet smile on his face. His eyes are staring at you in admiration, maybe even in a loving way. You just look too gorgeous in that dress it makes him wonder what you’d wear in your wedding if you even had one.

Come to think of it, what would you like your whole wedding to be?

The man is getting flustered just thinking about your wedding day. You’ll have one soon, right? It’s working out for the two of you so there definitely will be one. Or so he thinks that it’s working out for the two of you.

“Kuroo?”

“Kuroo.”

“Kuroo!”

“Yes?” Kuroo finally snaps out of his thoughts and sees Terushima smirking at him. “What?”

“You’re staring too much,” the blonde chuckles. He expects Kuroo to deny it and such so he gets shock when the raven states...

“Why wouldn’t I? My wife looks mesmerizing.” Kuroo continues to watch your shoot, his attention only on you and no one else. You finally see him, so you flash him a sweet smile and flirty wink before focusing back to your work.

Kuroo giggles with a blushing face which causes Terushima to laugh at his reaction. Terushima teases him so he hits Terushuma, telling the blonde to stop teasing him. “You are such a simp!”

The two of them are having butterflies in their stomachs because they’re lowkey like teenage girls, giggling and whispering to each other with blushes on their face, talking about the love of their life. If you’re looking from a far, you would never know what they are talking about.

The shoot finally ends and your secretary tells Kuroo to wait for you at your office. He does as told and roams around your workplace while he waits. He finds your little bedroom and sees some of your belongings in there. It must be where you sleep when you finish work when trains stop operating for the day.

Kuroo hears your door open so he gets out of the tiny room and skips to you, hugging you tightly in the middle of the room. He takes a look at your face and then tackles it with kisses, enabling you start a proper conversation.

“I missed you.”

Kiss.

“I missed you.”

Kiss.

“I missed you so much.”

Kiss.

“Tetsu, love,” you call him out in between giggles, your hands trying to cup his cheeks for him to stop, but he captures your lips with his first. Your eyes flutter close and give into his actions.

“You looked so beautiful in that dress, my love. Makes me wanna marry you again.”

You’re supposed to be happy hearing his words. Your heart should be jumping out of your rib cage by now. So why can you feel yourself forcing a smile?

“Love, do you mind if I ask you a question?” Kuroo asks you, his arms snaking around your body, nuzzling his nose on the crook your neck. You just humm, eyes closed, fingers tangled into his hair.

“What’s your ideal wedding?”

Your lids shut open from his question. “All of a sudden?”

“I just got curious.” Kuroo shrugs, waiting for your answer. He’s ready to take mental notes and use it when you plan your wedding.

“I’ve never thought about it,” you answer honestly. Kuroo moves away from you and stares, not believing the words that came out of your mouth. “What? I always knew I was getting arranged so I never thought about having my own wedding.”

“You’re a wedding planner and you never dreamed about your own wedding?” Kuroo is skeptical about your statement and he also feels disappointed?

You’ve never thought about your wedding? As in the ‘you as the bride and him as the groom’ wedding? Has it really not passed your mind even just for a second? Because that was all he was thinking about when he saw you in that wedding dress and up to this moment.

“I just don’t see myself having my own wedding,” you explain, not sparing a glance at his disheartened face.

“Not even with me?” He says without thinking, which you look at him for. You examine his face and see how he genuinely looks discouraged about your words. Not understanding why is he so hurt about your words, you cock an eyebrow at him.

“We’re married.”

“But we haven’t had a wedding ceremony. I personally think it’ll be great to have one,” Kuroo says as if it’s not a big deal, but deep inside he is making a huge fuss about it. He’s indirectly proposing to you and if you turn it down, his heart will shatter to pieces.

“Let’s see after our trying period,” is all you responded. Your response breaks him. You haven’t decided if you’ll stay with him?

He can feel his chest tigthen and hand sweat. Why are you saying that when months ago you were speaking about how much you love him? Why are you saying that when weeks ago you were begging him to forgive you?

“Don’t you love me anymore?”

——————————————————————————

Facts:

The idea of signal lights was first used on railroads to prevent trains from colliding. These signals were then adapted all over the world and used in roads since it worked so well.

The original pattern was red for danger, green for caution, and white to go. However, since white could have been easily missed against a starry sky so then it was changed to the green, yellow, and red we know of now.

The first constructed roads date from about 4000 BC

Roman roads were often stone-paved.

The Pan-American Highway is the longest roadway in the world, spanning around 19,000 miles or 30,000 kilometers

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[the-ghost-king]

time for me to share a good™️ headcanon: will and nico love to steal each other’s clothes but their massive size difference makes it so obvious that they’re doing it. nico’s shirts are almost croptops on will and will’s sweaters are practically a dress on nico bc will is like 6’2 and nico’s like 5’5

Anon! Anon! Yes, you. You get it.

I don’t really know what you wanted as a response to this but I felt inspired for the first time in some 10 months so I gifted you a one shot below the “read more”. I’ll also upload it to Ao3 with a link in the notes...

Anyhow Anon, I hope you enjoy it! I got a little off topic but reflective fluff is always good!

If you would have asked Will what he wanted out of life as a kid you probably would have gotten an answer that was something like “a chance to actually go and live life as it was meant to be” or maybe “to be happy, pretty, and stupid”. 

He didn’t dare to hope for more, demigods didn’t live long lives, and being involved in a major battle at thirteen didn’t do wonders in regards to establishing confidence in your survival. As for the “pretty and stupid” part of his answer, it wasn’t that Will had ever hated being smart, he just hated the disconnect different intelligence levels caused in peer groups and society; being smart was hard, sure for school purposes it was nice, but that intelligence means you’re constantly thinking and so often so much of the world seems so dull and petty. Will had been lucky enough to be blessed with decent looks, moving through the world was made easy in at least that regard, but he wished he could live without thinking so much because so often he could only see so much awful in the world. 

Thirteen year old Will wouldn’t have dared hope for anything more, he wouldn’t have dared hope for anything else more than a decade or so of normal life beyond camp and a chance at an easy life for those few years. When fourteen year old Will got a depression diagnosis he wouldn’t say he was surprised, he would have been annoyed but he hadn’t really felt much of anything in years. (”Atypical depression” The doctor had said, “likely clinical”)  A few different types of anti-depressants and a few months of therapy things started feeling okay, better at least. Fifteen came and went, he tried to go off the pills and didn’t quite get there, but his dose got lowered which Will supposed was nice. 

In the months of early 16, Nico di Angelo stumbles into his life; exhausted and melting under the pressure of the universe, he makes friends with death. It isn’t much, but Will remembers him from when they were kids back before any major fights. He remembers hearing about Nico running off and he felt bad for not having made a continued effort to get to know him. He felt bad when he left after the Battle of Manhattan too, they’d prepped bodies for their departure together and Will had gotten hung up in the infirmary (he had been one of the last Apollo campers and he was the only one with medical training). In some ways, Will supposed he was making up for those lost years when he didn’t have time to befriend Nico as he would have liked, it made him feel like he was at least trying.

In the beginning things were undeniably rocky, Nico was constantly hooked to machines just so Will could guarantee he wouldn’t die overnight. Even on Nico’s first night in the infirmary he had struggles with sleep, the bed wasn’t comfortable enough and after trying a large variety of options Will had hauled Nico and all of his equipment out to the porch on the back of the infirmary and they slept there for those three days (which turned into two weeks), wrapped up in jackets and in a pile of blankets beneath camp’s fall skies.

Within a few months, they fell in love. 

Okay listen, people can call Will ridiculous all they want- but love at first sight is real and he experienced it. He didn’t know it but the day he met Nico and looked into the dark browns of his eyes, he thought something about how his eyes looked like ash from the fireplace at Mama’s house, or how they looked like the soil that his windowsill plants grew from. If you would have asked Will what he thought of Nico the very first time they’d met, he would have told you something about how his eyes were “big, dark, and round like a baby cow”. What Will really meant is that Nico reminded him of the family ranch house he grew up in, he meant he looked like home. 

At the time Will just hadn’t known that was what love felt like, but when he figured it out one day teaching Nico how to play Hold ‘em on the back porch of the infirmary with a light breeze and setting sun as they settles down for bed; he knew one thing, he didn’t want anything more than to make Nico happy and he hoped that he could be a part of that more than anything.

It took a little longer for Nico to come around, he had his own demons to battle. Internalized homophobia, even in small doses, is a real downer to say the least, let alone when you’re fighting demons you’ve manifested for some 15 years. The biggest struggle however, was probably in all honesty the fact that Nico was so goddamned oblivious. After spending years alone with limited human contact at best, and having spent so many years desperately wanting Percy to notice him, and being met with negative reactions, Nico didn’t know what love looked like anymore. How had he been supposed to know he was in love with Will?

There was a lot of subtle back and forth, would the other even be interested in a guy? It ended one day with an unplanned kiss followed by a declaration. Will called it the best mistake he ever made, neither of them really thought it was a mistake.

It was days like today that only proved that.

Will had woken up to Nico’s face on a pillow next to him. He’d fallen asleep with his hair pulled back in a ponytail, and some of his smaller hairs had fallen loose in the night and now framed his peaceful face. The first rays of golden sunlight fell through accidentally left open curtains, and Will reached out to brush a stray piece of dark hair and place it behind Nico’s ear. 

He woke up to a morning more beautiful than he would have ever hoped for at 13, and he would always be glad for that. He would always be grateful for how far he had come in not quite a decade. At just twenty-two he was 4 years into medical school, and three years married to Nico and he truly believed he was one of the happiest men in the world simply because he made Nico happy.

In time, Nico too would wake up. 

First with a huff, and then a grumbling noise of annoyance as he rubbed his face with his arm as though trying to block out light before half-asleep Nico seemed to accept his fate and wake up fully. 

“Good morning”

“How long have you been up?”

“Awhile”

Nico made a knowledgeable humming sound, perhaps he was just acknowledging Will’s response or perhaps he was saying ‘of course’. 

A few kisses, a short conversation, and a couple of “I love you”’s later, they got out of bed.

Nico's was wearing Will's high school hoodie that was a bit too short on Will anymore like it was a dress on him. The hoodie went down to Nico’s knees, he's got his own black shorts on because Will's just fall off unless he ties them really really tight. He's got black socks pulled up almost to his knees, there’s a little gap between the end of Nico’s shorts and the start of his socks. The hoodie goes down an inch or two past his short pockets, and he goes outside to grab the mail with a pair of unlaced combat boots on his feet. He's got his skull ring on his middle finger of his right hand, and his left hand holds a simple wedding band which glint in the light as he opens the front door. His hair is pulled up into a messy ponytail, some of it is up some of it is down, there's tons of flyaway hairs which frame his face since he hasn’t fixed it sense getting out of bed.

Call it a cliché, but Nico looks like Heaven personified without even trying. 

Sure, everyone looks nice in a suit or a dress, but how many people can roll out of bed without doing their hair wearing a decade old hoodie and look like they belong in a magazine spread?

Will is wearing one of Nico's looser shirts, on Nico it comes down past his hips and a little onto his thighs, on Will is he so much as lifts his arms a centimeter it reveals his hip bones. He doesn’t really mind, he kind of likes it to be entirely honest. Will can remember being just a few inches shorter than he is now and fitting fairly comfortably in Nico’s clothes at the time, they had never worried whose clothes they grabbed back then. Nico had finished his growth spirt and Will had thought he was done only two inches taller, it didn’t matter whose clothes were whose because everything fit well enough.

That wasn't quite the case now, Nico had stayed at his casual 5"5 while Will had shot up and extra six inches to 6"2 and ruined his own chances of sharing clothes. Such as right now he was sure he was wearing his own sweats, because he had specifically had to get a pair last night despite Nico's having been more accessible. Anytime he's actually managed to get a pair of Nico's pants comfortably on in the last few years, result in him wearing pants that are more like compression shorts or capris than pants.

Will was just happy he could wear some of Nico's larger shirts and hoodies still, the fact that Nico preferred to sleep in lots of clothes and typically baggy clothes meant Will had some options when it came to wearing his husbands stuff.

Will has also managed to steal a pair of Nico's socks, they're a taller pair on Nico (he buys winter wear so often because he's cold always) but on Will they gather a little awkwardly around his ankle. Will doesn't usually wear socks but they had gone to bed without the heat on and apparently the cold had set in over night and you could definitely feel it on their apartment floors.

The clothes would be a bit stretched out from him, it was something Will can remember being worried about after his second growth spurt, but Nico doesn't mind, He's assured Will of this time and time again, he says something about "aesthetic" and "alternative". Will doesn't really know, he's never cared much for fashion but he'll take Nico's word on it. 

The truth, although it's something Nico would only admit in their bed late at night when it was so dark you could barely see his face, and arguably a little drunk as well, was that he actually enjoyed the way the clothes fit better after Will wore them. He found some sort of comfort in the way the shoulders of his shirts would be just a little too wide on him, it was one of those small acts of love, it wasn't one Will entirely understood but both of them got their own sort of enjoyment out of Will stretching out Nico's sleeping clothes some so they went with it.

Will turns his attention from Nico walking out the door to the coffee pot on the countertop.

Will doesn't like coffee much, he likes the social aspect of getting a cup more. Nico had introduced him to it, he’d been drinking it for years by the time they’d left camp. It reminded him of home and he grew to like it for such reasons, and although Nico would consume just about anything with enough caffeine in it Will needed creamer to enjoy coffee to any amount. 

They were both honestly probably more tea people, but they never seemed to remember to buy any. Will will try to remember to write it down on the grocery list later, but Nico has walked back into the kitchen, climbed up on the counter next to Will and now he is looking at him; and Nico is always a distraction that's worthy of taking, Will will definitely forget to write down tea for their grocery list and the week will start over with more coffee in the house and no tea.

Nico’s fingers grip the countertop and he swings his legs a little bit back and forth from where he sits on the black granite, his white gold rings set against the counter in contrast. Will's worn out blue hoodie looks grey with age, the little printed letters are cracked and peeling on the back of it, his last name can still be read in white though. 

Will knows the cliché about your lover wearing your name is often unhealthy and overly possessive, but he likes seeing Nico with his name because it feels like a gift. It’s like he’s given Nico a part of himself and Nico accepted it with pride, and Will loves that, he loves him and Nico being little pieces of each other.

Nico is smiling at him, and leans just so, Will turns in acknowledgment of the gesture, and moves so he’s standing to the left of Nico. Nico crosses his legs at the ankle and leans towards Will laying his head against Will where his neck and shoulder meet. Will leans forward and buries his face into Nico’s hair, comfortable and a little sleepy still.

"Coffee?"

"Mhmm."

"Good."

Will isn't the best cook, for fucks sake he's not even someone who could be considered a good cook, but he can handle this. Nico taught him the basics when they were still living at camp, Will failed every time, he ended up going home for a short period for Christmas break and begging his mom "teach me how to make eggs" he left off the bit about impressing Nico but he knows she knew. When he came back Nico had just smiled at him, "you practiced huh?"

Will hadn't gotten better at making much else, some eggs, toast, coffee and he could boil water now too! He had burnt lots of stuff over the years, plastic containers in the microwave, a plastic ladle they had on the stove top, at least 100 failed attempts at grilled cheese. Will was honestly just happy he hadn’t blown up any microwaves since he was a kid... 

Nico had come home to many of Will's failed attempts at making him various things, sometimes the food was underdone other times it was bits of inedible char. Will did try, he really did, but the heat was always too high or he would end up distracted, or he would use sugar on accident instead of salt. Will did actually try, but his best attempts still often left something to be desired, so he often was the one doing dishes.

Most notably one time Nico had come home to him attempting to pan-frying some fish.

It had been supposed to be a surprise, it was Nico's birthday, and Will had had the day off of class even though Nico hadn't. He figured he would have surprised him; it had been back in their first apartment, not quite as nice as this one. A cheap tiled cream counter top that Nico had literally cringed at when seeing it the first time, the cabinets had somehow been cheaper than a set from IKEA and it had become an inside joke to them.

He had walked in the apartment to see smoke coming off the pan with a bit of flame still coming off it, and a large piece of charred fish stuck to the bottom of one of their frying pans.

"Hey dumbass, what did you do in here?" 

People thought they were an odd couple, Will could see that. The whole parallel people drew between light and dark and optimism and pessimism and such between them, none of those people were really correct though. Will and Nico were more similar than they were different. At the end of the day it didn’t really matter what people said, Will liked Nico, he loved him in all honesty- he'd never heard the word "dumbass" said with so much affection.

Nico was hard for most people to read, years along had left him struggling emotionally in some manner; he did his best to hide most of his emotions, cloak them so heavily that sometimes they were even unrecognizable to Nico himself. 

The most obvious example of this in regards to Nico was how "shut up" often meant "I love you", "idiot" was synonymous with "darling" in some ways. Don't get Will wrong, Nico could be very affectionate, but pet names came with hesitation for him in the early days; Should he use Venetian, Italian, or English? Masculine words that were romantic had been hard for him to say as well... But everyday he grew and got better, and Will was proud of him every time he called Will “dear” and didn’t hesitate before or after. 

Nico had started masking his emotions at some point during his time at Westover, whatever he had done there hadn’t been much more than how much the average person masked their feelings, but when he started training with Minos Nico had doubled down on keeping his emotions secretive. Minos hadn’t been kind or safe in any sense of the word, emotions were what he used to manipulate Nico all that time, it was no wonder Nico developed such a strong sense of apathy towards anything overtime. 

Nico could be affectionate, he could be the most loving person to ever exist. Nico’s emotions were sort of like secrets, if you stayed awake late enough into the night you would only come to know him then, such was the nature of him. He often whispered so quietly his wants and needs into the dark, there was some sense of fear tied to Nico’s vulnerability and he handed off his worries each night to the stars soft glow. Nico often refused to talk openly during the day, but at night apologies and truth always came, he had known what he had wanted earlier he had simply been to afraid of the rejection to acknowledge it, Will is glad that with the years the worst of such things is over; it is unlikely to be something Nico will ever fully grow out of, such is the nature of humanity, but progress is a virtue.

Such times not only resulted in Nico’s acknowledgement of his wants and faults, but also garnered the most affection from Nico. Nico couldn’t always communicate in an effective manner verbally, which was still a process they were working on, but he did his best. Nico’s act of love was like that of a small bird, he gave you small things that seemed insignificant until you realized he had only ever told you such things. Will fell in love with him for it, it wasn’t just about the way he would describe the wallpaper in his childhood bedroom, it was the fact that nobody knew anything else about Nico’s childhood bedroom. 

Will had never truly understood the concept of “touch starved” until he met Nico, he had known the definition sure, but he had never truly witnessed it. Nico never asked for touch, but it was the way he leaned into it, the way he sought it out; pressing up against Will’s hand like a cat stretching trying to get a little more contact somehow, trying to make the touch last just a bit longer so he could savor it properly. It was literally starving in some manner, starving for contact that wasn’t a goodbye or a hit, just for wordless contact. When he grew comfortable he gave affection fully, there was a joy in holding Nico’s hand, knowing that he felt safe enough not to worry about the effect a few extra seconds of prepping for a fight that holding hands would add.

Nico didn’t show affection in big ways, and that was more than okay with Will; they were laid back in comparison to most, he’d have sought the comfort of placing soap bubbles on each others head in the tub a hundred times over a night on the town. Nico’s affection was something quiet and almost secretive, unknown to anyone it wasn’t directed at; it was the way he would lead Will out of a room to kiss him, or the quiet way he whispered “I love you” into Will’s ear when in public.  

Will supposes in the early days “shut up” became “I love you” in order to avoid being seen as weak in some manner, in order to avoid acknowledging what he really wanted to say and having Will not respond in kind. Will didn't mind, they weren't an overly affectionate pairing- banter was common, almost everything they did was turned into some sort of game, the term "boys will be boys" definitely applied to their relationship of 3am pillow fights, late night discussions about what order the Christmas ornaments had to go up on the tree in, and whenever they wrote thesis papers for living room debates over the best Disney villain.

Will honestly preferred it that way, he preferred having the little moments reserved for solely them. He preferred the aversion to sappy clichés, the way a lover could say your name with exasperation and a smile that meant the whole world. He had seen what some other couples had, quick kisses in lines at cafes, holding hands across the table, and calling each other pet names they’d made up that were somehow ten times worse than the original- and Will didn’t want that. 

It wasn’t that what those couples had wasn’t love, it just wasn’t love in a way Will could understand, it wasn’t love Will felt from those sort of exchanges. He didn’t understand the idea of “butterflies in your stomach”, love wasn’t nerves, love was like coming home after a long day, love was the way someone could say your name like it was divine, love was the way someone would smirk at you when you were missing the point, love was not being afraid to cry in front of them,  it was knowing you could show up to them with any problem and instead of leaving you they would research the ins and outs of it in all their entirety. 

The coffee maker makes a sound, Nico lifts his head of off Will’s body and the deep browns of his eyes are like the freshly turned dirt of fields in planting season, and Will feels like there’s a garden growing in his chest that Nico feeds. Nico sits straight on the counter and pulls his legs up and sits cross legged on the counter as he pulls out his hairband, and runs his fingers through his hair before pulling it back up without all the flyaways. 

Will moves towards the coffee machine, pours it into two cups, and sets one on the counter beside Nico before making his way to the fridge to grab creamer. Nico’s watching him right now, but there’s no need for talking; there will be talking in a minute. Talking about Will’s schedule for the week, talk of whatever project Nico is working on right now, talk of what they should do for dinner the rest of the week, little sweet nothings, and eventually they’ll make their way to the couch to watch some tv and maybe later in the day they’ll play some sort of game or something as well.

So yeah, maybe "light" and "dark" were polar opposites and some people would have walked out on the word dumbass rather than immediately loving it, but Will liked it- everyday was a game of sorts, a new adventure, all with Nico who he loved. Coming home from work wasn’t necessarily about the place Will lived but knowing Nico would be there for him to see was the point  of going home, home was wherever Nico was and some small part of Will hoped eternity was real in some manner.

Will remembered when Michael had died thinking nothing could possibly get worse, and in some ways he was kind of right; he had ended up with some sort of demigod style fairy tale ending with the man he loved, and that was ten times better than anything fifteen year old Will would have hoped for.

[shadowjeon99]

Done another one of these awfully written 13th Doctor meets Donna and Wilf AUs so uh, enjoy the plot bc the actual writing is horseshit.

Donna noble and her grandad Wilf enjoy a daily coffee and chat and they definitely enjoy trying new places. Today all signs pointed towards Covent Garden, towards Londons newest and most instagrammable cafe

•The Box•

Notoriously reported on for its modern hexagonal decorations, quirky menu and friendly Northern owner, Joan Smith.

The redhead and veteran walk in, Donna immediately starts criticising the decor and wilf feels a strange wave of nostalgia but he brushes it off because it can’t be, it just can’t be. The doctor is dead, he saw him die… did he? yes he did, the doctor said his final goodbyes and died end of story, god wilf really needed that coffee now.

They are seated by a waiter and briefly glance over the menu, oscillating between traditional coffee and more adventurous options. Donna, for some strange reason decided that she’d really fancy the jelly baby milkshake, an out of character move that did not go unnoticed by her grandfather as he is still unable to shake that odd feeling he’s having.

“Oh relax grandad, it’s good to try something new once in a while”

“I suppose you’re right, every choice has some strange twist to it, this ‘ere says fish fingers and custard but I bet you it’s really just sponge fingers”

“That’s the spirit, go big or go home”

They both head to the counter to order *ring bell to alert* says a note and so they do.

“Be with you juuust a second” chimes a high pitched Yorkshire accent “got some stuff from the future… or is it the past??? to get through quickly” Huffs of laughter break out from behind the pair

“She’s so eccentric no wonder this place is doing well” they hear

Wilf’s instinct intensifies and yet he still ignores it, purposefully repressing the very same amazing, powerful, once in a lifetime memories he knows he can never share with his grandchild because he finds it so unbelievably unfair that he was the one that got to remember.

“I’m gonna nip to the loo quickly, you have my order right”

“Yes granddad, If I ever even get to order”

Joan after a while still has not made an appearance and Donna gets impatient.

“Oi you, a bad Yelp review is what you’re gonna get, been waiting here for 5 minutes”

“Ah tough crowd” the owner says pushing the door closed with brute force, securing a good 6 or 7 padlocks as she steadily and cautiously backs away from it, she hears this line a good few times a day so responds with her usual “5 minutes? Try waiting….” she turns to face the crowd and instinctually locks eyes with Donna. The joke she was going to make about Yaz waiting 10 months for her in Jail, has suddenly turned into something even more depressing.

“Try waiting what blondie? The hungrier I get the more appetite I LOSE”

“How’d you get in here” Joan whispers in recognition, completely frozen, eyes wide, a tear forming in the corner of her eye

“Speak louder hun, you look like you’ve seen a ghost”

Joan, taking the first opportunity in over 10 years to talk to one of her best friends obliges and plays along.

“Yes of course, what can I get you, hopefully not a huon particle coffee haha” she instantly regrets saying that, afraid of triggering memories

“Not a what? You northerners and your funny words for things, Anyways I’ll get a jelly baby milkshake and my grandad will get a Barcelona Mocha”

“Your… grandad?” Joan says, remembering the sweet old man she bonded with all those years ago

“Yes my granddad Wilfred? Do I look too old to have a grandad? Are you calling me old? The cheek of you”

“No of course not I’m so sorry, veterans get 50% off by the way” Joan has still not gotten over her socially awkward side despite her 1500+ age

“How’d you know he was a veteran?”

“Lucky guess? Many old people are, I myself-“ she cuts herself off as she sees wilf walk back into the room, a beaming smile appearing across her face

She immediately clasps his hands as he reaches the counter

“Wilfred” she says hoping he recognises her, “it’s an honour”

Donna is so unamused by the over the top nature of this barista but Wilf, oh Wilf can not suppress these memories anymore

“Doctor” he says softly, understanding what is happening, “it’s you” his voice cracking as both friends shed tears

“Oi, hurry up” Donna Chirps from behind “I get you respect veterans but we want our coffee”

“Donna, I’d be proud if he were my grandad, I’d be so very proud” The Doctor says,

Donna’s head hurts, a dull pounding takes over her thoughts, the face of a man she’s certain she’s never seen before pops into her head briefly, one, two, gone, forgotten” the DoctorDonna resurfaced, but not for long enough to do damage.

The pair sit back at their table

“What was that all about” Donna asks

“Oh nothing really”

“No you recognised her, who is she, how do you know her?” Does mum have a secret daughter???”

“Donna it’s nothing, she just…used to be my Doctor” Wilf says with a smile

“Doctor to barista? a little downgrade I’d Say” Donna scoffs as she sips her milkshake “but GREAT for me, what is in this oh my god”

The doctor decides as soon as they leave that despite her wishes to see Donna and Wilf again, that it would be safer if she just left them alone.

The following day Wilf went back to Covent Garden, Eager to tell the Doctor every little thing that happened in the decade she was gone. But when he arrived, in place of •The Box• was a sold sign. He looked closer however and spotted a phone number faintly written in the corner.

[fandom-blackhole]

Hayloft- Ezra x Reader P.6 Final

AN: Well here we are guys.... I really want to thank everyone who has given this story a chance. I know I'm not a the best writer but it really is one of my passions and with all of the support I've gotten for Hayloft especially, I am hoping to continue writing and maybe even complete my childhood dream of being a published author (though that will be way in the future)! If you enjoyed this, you should go show some love to my sister, @space-nerd2005​​, because without her this story either wouldn’t have been even written/published or would have only been a one-shot! For now I just want everyone to know that I'm really happy that you're all here and you've supported me! 💕💕💕 (Also Happy Valentines Day!)

Masterlist

Words: 3.8k!

Warnings: sex mentioned but not really described, the father talks again so berating and abusive language, fighting, running bc that needs a warning

Sneaking back into the house after that first night in the barn was difficult. Neither Ezra nor I wanted to separate, and we had stalled until it had almost been too late. But, in the end, we didn’t get caught again. Our nighttime visits resumed again after that night, though now I was sneaking out to see him almost every night, not able to stand being away from him any longer. Gone also were the nights of being apart from each other in any way. While not every night was filled with passionate touches and pleasure, each night was spent holding each other and trying to soothe the aches of being apart all day. 

Sleep soon became the least of my priorities and it showed during the day. I was constantly tired and it made the days seem to drag on. Nights on the other hand always seemed to pass too quickly as I tried in vain to grasp and hold onto the stolen moments that Ezra and I were able to share. I noticed that Ezra was also being affected by the lack of sleep, when I worked with them in the field I noticed him yawning in the middle of sentences, but when I would bring it up at night when we were alone he would always look scared and pull me closer saying he was fine and then ask me not to leave. 

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Shortly after the nightly visits to the barn started, and about a month away from when Ezra’s ship would arrive to take him away, as I climbed my way into the hayloft and faced Ezra, I was met with a sight I hadn’t seen in what felt like forever. Ezra was sitting against the far wall of the loft with the lantern on, his shirt off, and my Edgar Allan Poe book held in his hand. I had not thought of my books until that moment, my mind too distracted with other thoughts to think to wonder where they had disappeared to after the confrontation that had happened in that small spare bedroom. 

Walking over to Ezra now though, I could see that he had all of them, except for the one he was holding, tucked away into his small bag, keeping them safe. Looking up at what I assume to be the sound of my footsteps, Ezra smiled and motioned for me to sit down next to him, and once I had settled, with my head on his shoulder, I spoke softly. “I feel somewhat ashamed. I had not even realized that my books were missing until just a few seconds ago when I saw you with Poe.”

Turning and pressing a kiss to my forehead Ezra answered just as softly, “No need to be ashamed, my delicate and beautiful flower. Your mind has been preoccupied with things that have taken you far from worrying about our shared writing friends. Not to worry though, I have kept them safe and away from anything that could harm their precious pages. I believe that when your brother was gathering my things to bring out here to me he saw the books and assumed they were mine. I didn’t say anything, and selfishly kept them, when I should have returned them to you, but those lonely nights without you were hard on my old soul and these books that held a small portion of you brought me solace. Especially, our dear friend Poe who brought us together. Whenever I missed you most I would find my aching fingers turning to the poem I recited for you that first day and I would read it over and over until I fell into my fitful and aching slumber.”

Looking at the book now, I noticed that he was once again staring at the page that held the poem. It was obvious that this page had been visited more often than naught, as the page showed signs of wear and a few crinkles where the page most likely creased when he fell asleep with it in his hand. Lifting my head to look at Ezra, and already finding him watching me with what I hoped to be love in his eyes, I gave him a smile and bit my lip before opening my mouth and reciting the poem back to him.

“In visions of the dark night

I have dreamed of joy departed;

But a waking dream of life and light

Hath left me broken-hearted.

Ah! what is not a dream by day

To him whose eyes are cast

On things around him, with a ray

Turned back upon the past?

That holy dream, that holy dream,

While all the world was chiding,

Hath cheered me as a lovely beam

A lonely spirit guiding.

What though that light, thro’ storm and night,

So trembled from afar―

What could there be more purely bright

In Truth’s day-star?”

As I watched his face while speaking the same lines he had spoken to me what feels like decades ago at this point, though only a few short months ago, his face morphed into a loving smile. I watched as the soft smile he had turned wider, and the crinkles next to his eyes deepened, and his dimple peeked out beneath his facial hair deepened. After I finished, I blushed and turned away from his gaze.

“I, um...I read that poem almost nightly after we first walked back here to the farm together. I couldn’t bring myself to read past that poem either, it was always just that one, and I always only heard your voice echoing it in my head as my eyes read along the lines. That was all before we started meeting at night….”

After my admission, Ezra had set the book aside, carefully placing it with the others. Then he carefully picked up my hand kissed my palm before sliding my hand to rest on his cheek as he pulled me into his lap. As soon as I was close enough he started kissing me, starting with small soft pecks on the corners of my mouth before moving on to full kissing my lips. He slowly worked the kisses from soft to passionate. 

That night we sat against the wall and as Ezra held me and made love to me, he continuously whispered and recited our poem. For once he didn’t drawl on about this or that, only softly and huskily reciting those words over and over into my ear in between kisses and nips and moans of my name.

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The days were counting down too quickly for my taste. I was scared, in all honesty. I felt as if I had finally gotten Ezra, but I still hadn’t fully gotten him in the way that I longed for. I wanted to be able to spend every waking moment with him. I wanted to be able to feel his touch whenever without worrying about my father. I want to be able to walk up and kiss him. I want to be able to make love with him in a bed for once. I want so much, still, and time is running out. Even as I sit close to Ezra and listen to him speak about just whatever is going through his mind, I can’t help but worry about what is going to happen in only a few week’s time. Will I have to watch as the man I have come to love walks away from me forever? Will he decide to stay with me and settle down on K-5? Or will he take me with him and into that big ship that comes for him, taking me with him on every adventure following?

“...lower? Darling? Are you back with me yet,” coming back to the present I am met with Ezra’s soft smile and teasing eyes, as he rubs the palm of my hand with his thumb. “What has taken you away from me, flower? For your eyes seemed to be a million miles away from here, and I must say I am slightly worried that you may have finally grown tired of my endless drawl. Tell me, please?”

Shaking my head with a small laugh, I returned his smile. “I’m sorry, Ez. I can assure you that I am far from tired of listening to you talk. I always look forward to getting to listen to you…”

“Then what is stealing your attention from me, flower? I can tell that something is bothering you, and it has me slightly worried. You can talk to me about anything, I promise you no harsh judgments, I could never think or speak anything unsavory when it comes to you, my lovely flower.”

As he speaks, Ezra reaches over to me and pulls my bottom lip free from my teeth as he has done so many times before. We sit in silence for a few moments, before I take a deep breath and quietly whisper, “What is going to happen in the next few weeks? After the harvest is done, and the ship comes for you?”

Watching Ezra’s eyes as I spoke, I saw them get a sad hue to them. I watched as Ezra swallowed and he said in a solemn tone, “I cannot stay flower. I must leave with that ship….but I don’t have to leave alone. Flower, you could come with me, I would more than love to take care of you out there, and show you the universe that you have only seen through stories...That is of course if that is what you want. I will not push you into leaving your family, or your planet, but know that leaving without you by my side will break me. I know that what we have hasn’t lasted long but I know for certain that this is special. I know without a shadow of doubt that I have fallen completely for you. And, if I were to leave you behind, I would end up leaving my heart and soul along with you. I love you, flower…”

Crying, I move my hands to hold Ezra’s face and I press my forehead to his own. For a few seconds, we sit like this and as I run my thumbs across his cheeks, Ezra wraps his arm around my waist.

“You honestly think that I’m going to stay on this Kevva forsaken planet when the man that holds my heart and soul is leaving? If you will have me, I am coming with you. I love you, Ezra, and if you left me here, I fear that I would waste away from the heartbreak.”

“I swear flower, you make me the happiest man in the known universe. If you had said anything about not coming with me I think I would have left this mortal body from the sadness alone. I don’t think I could ever be far from you again.”

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

After we both agreed that we would be leaving K-5 together when the time came in the following weeks, we started planning how exactly we were going to accomplish running away with each other. We both knew that my father would try and stop us, so we couldn’t risk him finding out any part of our plans. And as much as I hated it, I had decided to leave Anthony in the dark as well. I knew that, yes, in the past few months the two of us had gotten closer, but I still didn’t know how he would react if I told him. I still remember what he had said to me in the kitchen and I planned to keep that promise, but I couldn’t find it in me to tell him, still too scared that he might tell my father and dash all hope of me getting off this planet.

Ezra and I’s plan was simple, really. The plan was to have everything packed and ready to go the night before the ship would make its way to town. After my father goes to bed I would go to Anthony, say my goodbyes, and grab the money that was owed to Ezra for his work before going to the hayloft, with my packed things. That night Ezra and I would stay together and in the early morning light, we would leave for town. If everything went well, we both should be loaded onto the ship and gone before my father noticed that I hadn’t just gone on my usual Saturday morning supply run. Simple, as long as everything went accordingly.

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

The weeks and days ticked by quickly, and my anxiety continuously rose. Ezra tried to calm me, giving me soft words and holding me at night, but I could tell that he himself was getting anxious as well. As the last week came, each night we would greet each other and do just about anything to distract ourselves from the looming escape. And as Friday came, I found that my bottom lip was chewed raw from the anxiety and anticipation for what was to come, but I couldn’t stop myself from continuing the bad habit, only wincing when I brushed over an especially sore spot on my lip.

The day itself was rather uneventful. I once again was doing laundry away from the other three, as they pulled in the last of the harvest. Before I had even realized it, it was time for dinner and as we all sat down for dinner, we ate in silence for the first time in what felt like forever. Surprisingly enough it was my father who broke that silence as we were all finishing up our food.

“You’re quiet for once in your life it seems. It almost seems suspicious,” my father spoke watching Ezra with careful eyes. To which Ezra just gave him an easy smile, and replied, “No reason to be suspicious, I assure you. I am just tired and the food was just too good to take breaks for speaking.”

“Hmmm, well I hope you enjoyed it because it’s gonna be your last meal here, I’ll have your money waiting outside in the morning and I want you gone by first light. If you’re not, well, only having one arm is gonna be the least of your problems.”

With that said, my father left the table and went straight to his bedroom. Looking back to Ezra, I found him looking down at his plate with a blank expression, his face neutral to whatever emotion was running through him at that moment. Glancing over at Anthony I found him watching me, and watched him open his mouth before speaking quietly.

“Listen, I don’t know what you two have planned, but dad has something planned as well. If you are leaving, I hope it’s gonna be before he has had a chance to even get up in the morning.”

Looking back to Ezra, I only saw him nod before he left the table as well. I watched as he grabbed his folded clothes, looked back at me with a small smile, and then walked out the back door. After he was gone, Anthony helped me clear the table and do the dishes, him drying as I cleaned, per our newer routine. And, after we had finished and before he could walk out of the kitchen, I wrapped my arms around him. 

“We are leaving in the morning. We hope to be gone by the time dad figures out I am not coming back from doing the shopping…”

“So this is goodbye, then?”

“Yeah, this is goodbye…”

With a hug and a kiss on my forehead, Anthony smiled at me and then left the kitchen, going upstairs to his room. Once again, I found myself standing in the kitchen losing track of time as I thought about what had just happened between Anthony and I. After I came back to the present though, I went and found the money my father had for Ezra, before making my way up to my room. 

Once in my room, I pulled the sack of belongings I had packed from underneath my bed where I had kept them hidden. Setting the bag on my bed I stashed the money away in one of the pockets before slinging the bag over my shoulder. Once again, I found myself stopping and looking around my room, taking everything in for one last time. When I found myself close to tears, I knew that it was time to leave, before the what ifs started to float around my head.

Making a quick and quiet escape out to the barn. Within minutes I was in the hayloft I found myself immediately being pulled into Ezra’s embrace. And, once I was in his arm, I felt a little bit of the stress that had built up this past month finally fade as I clutched him tightly.

“I am sorry for how my father has spoken to you these last few months. Nobody deserves to be treated the way he has treated you.”

“I would live through his constant torment and degradation of my character every day, if it meant that I could be with you. Flower, I do not care what he says to me, while his words may hurt, at the end of the day I still have you and you still have me no matter what he says or does. I love you so much, flower.”

“I love you too, Ezra.”

With that said Ezra lead me to the spot where he had been spending his nights. As we both laid down, Ezra held me close and whispered in my ear, as his hand trailed up my shirt. “Just one more time, for memory’s sake, flower?” And with my nodded consent Ezra brought me slow soft pleasure in the hayloft of my family’s barn before we drifted off to sleep for the first time holding each other. 

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When I awoke the next morning, it was still dark out, and it was to Ezra’s soft kisses all over my face. Smiling, I moved one of my hands to cradle his face and pull him into a kiss, before whispering him a good morning feeling his smile grow across my lips.

“I don’t think I will ever get used to the feeling of waking up with you next to me. I am not completely sure that I have not left the mortal realm in my sleep and have awakened to an angel in what many have called heaven.”

Laughing I nuzzled my nose into his neck and pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat. “And I do not think I will ever get used to being woken up by a waxing poet every morning.”

Feeling Ezra's laugh, I pulled away from him and got up from the makeshift bed to pull the clothes that had been thrown from my body the night before back on. Hearing movement behind me, I knew that Ezra was doing the same, and when I turned around, I smiled softly as I found him pulling on one of the shirts I had gifted him, the pants already covering his beautifully strong legs. Catching me looking, Ezra smirked. 

“See something you like, flower? Because I know I do.” Moving over to where I stand with a blindingly wide smile, Ezra leans down and gives me a chaste kiss before walking over to our bags, as I followed behind. Grabbing mine and handing it to me, I slid it on as Ezra turned and grabbed his own. Once both bags were secure Ezra turned back to me, this time looking slightly unsure. “Are you ready, flower?”

“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life. Ezra,” I say, and take his hand and hold his face. “Take me far away from here. Show me the universe and every secret you know.”

Leaning in, Ezra and I share one last passionate kiss before we made our way down the ladder and into the main portion of the barn. Once, we were both safely there, we both reached for the other’s hand as we walked to the barn door.

Right before we reached the doors, I was struck by the feeling that something was wrong. Before I could say anything, we reached the opening of the barn and I immediately realize why I felt that way, and judging by the way Ezra’s hand tightened in my own, he noticed as well. In the house the kitchen lights were on, and in the back doorway, there was the silhouette of my father holding what could only be his thrower rifle that he had stashed in the house. 

With the soft light of the rising sun, there was no way that my father didn’t see us standing there with our hands linked together. The three of us stood there, no one daring to move and inch, until my father moved the thrower and pointed it towards what I could only assume to be Ezra. He didn’t fire, but he did yell from the doorway, “I told you that there would be consequences, and I told you to stay away from my daughter. But all you do is talk so why did I expect you to know how to listen? Leave. Now. Before I decide to blow your brains out.”

Looking to Ezra with panic written across my face I only found him with a scowl on his face, as he held my hand tighter. And just as I went to whisper his name, Ezra spoke up and yelled back across to my father, “I was leaving right when you interrupted our departure. Now just lower the gun and we’ll be on our merry way. Out of your hair forever-”

“Like hell I am letting you take her. She’s staying right here and you are walking to town and leaving forever.”

Scared and on the verge of crying, I looked back towards my father, only to notice movement behind him. Ezra must have noticed as well because he laced his fingers with mine and whispered, get ready to run, before yelling back to my father. “I think you’ll find that she isn’t inclined to stay on this planet a day longer. She is leaving with me.”

(Thank you all again, you guys have made the last couple of months really amazing for me! I'm always looking for some interaction so please come say hi! I am planning out two more things coming in the future, a one-shot and another multipart fic! I am also always open to expanding this fic so if you have questions I would LOVE to answer them! As always likes, comments, and especially reblogs are super appreciated! I always love your guys’ feedback!)

Tags:  @babybelou @farrvey @anatanotegami @revolution-starter @cadelinhadopedropascal @lucifurrr @coolfishoperatoreagle @pugdalorian @callsigncatfish @marydjarin @jeeperky​ (user with crossed out names I couldn’t tag, sorry!)

[slightlymore]

Pride | Part 8 [The End]

Pairing: Doyoung, Y/N Other characters: Haechan, Johnny cameo Genre: Series | Smut | Angst | Crack | Fluff Warnings: as usual, language, same issues around mental health and unhealthy coping mechanisms, angsty, hard hitting family drama Words: 10K lol idk I wanted to write more bc it feels a little rushed but then it would drag too much

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 |  Part 8 THE END

Okay so I did write this while severely sleep-deprived lol (please get enough sleep, don’t do what I do) so it might be all over the place anyways, when I started Pride I had no idea I would write so many parts, and that it would have been so angsty honk honk tell me if you liked the ending or not and I would love to hear what your overall thoughts on this series are (it’s fine even if it’s like “it sucked aha”) thank you for reading it, I appreciate your love and support a lot!! very many heart emojis here that I can’t do on the laptop, insert also sad clown emoji

TIME JUMPS EXPLANATION

Endind scene commentary 

Doyoung has always regretted the things he had done wrong, when he was feeling weak, or imperfect, or exhausted. He would think about those moments and learn the same thing all over. Never again. And he lived with that mantra for a long time. Never again. Don’t slip, don’t let yourself go. Because it was painful.

But was it effectively painful as is, or was it only because he knew he shouldn’t have done that in the first place? Would it have been painful if he consciously let himself go? Was he feeling guilty for the mistake or for not being perfect? And at night, while breathing in and silently screaming his desire to be fragile, to break, to show people his soft imperfect soul he would think about that again and again. He appreciated that in other people a lot. Why would other people hate it in him? Why has he hated himself for such a long time? It is a denial of the inevitable. Just accept yourself, Doyoung. Accept yourself. Accept. And he thought he did it. Doyoung was sure he did it all. But as the first rays of sun hit his trembling eyelids, he already forgot. He opened up his eyes and looked at his ceiling, not remembering a single thing he told himself in the intimacy of the night.

_____

When the phone rang for the first time, you jolted on your seat, staring it down as if it was some kind of poisonous reptile. 

God, you hated speaking on the phone. 

When it rang again your eyes darted around you looking at the way your desk neighbors were judging you for taking so long to pick it up. 

You breathed in and out. 

“Y/N from Marketing speaking?” you mumbled into it. “Pizza or noodles?” a lazy but confident voice asked. You blinked, silent for a few moments, and looked around as if checking what was going on. “Who is this?” you whispered. A loud snort made you wince and remove the receiver from your ear. “-can’t believe you don’t recognize the voice of the best boy, the light of your life, the reason of your existence, the spawn of god, the joy of your miserable-,” the voice said when you listened to it again. 

You closed your eyes and pinched the base of your nose. “Haechan,” you interrupted the litany, suddenly aware of the migraine lingering in the darkest part of your head. “So, pizza or noodles?” he chuckled satisfied.

It was pizza, and as you sat down for lunch you curiously looked around the dining hall.  It was the first meal at the company and if it wasn’t for Haechan you wouldn’t have even known that there was a cafeteria at all. Your eyes darted to your left. It was louder than you’d expect from grown-ups. 

“Yeah, it’s just like in high school”, Haechan swallowed his food, following the direction of your eyes as if knowing what you were thinking. Then he put down the slice of pizza he was holding and cleaned his fingers on a napkin. 

“Okay, so, that table-”, he indicated with his head a group of people behind him, “lawyers. They can suck my dick and balls. And I’m definitely not saying this because they bully the IT department and we’d kill each other. Then in that one”, he indicated another table in the middle of the hall, “graphic designers. You probably see them around in the marketing wing where you’re at. Eh,” he shrugged, “normal people. Kinda weird. You’d think they won’t have colors on their clothes since they use a computer, but they still do for some arcane reason”. 

You stared at them but only briefly before concentrating on your food as a few eyes returned the glares. The company was big and had hundreds of workers, but for some reason everywhere you looked around, people would stare back and whisper between themselves. “It’s because you made a ruckus at the party yesterday. Don’t worry, it will die soon.” Haechan explained, again reading your mind. It was kind of scary. “Where’s your group of people? Why are you eating with me?” you asked, unable to think about the day before. 

About to go home the previous night, you looked for Doyoung first. You had no idea why. No, okay, you obviously knew why, but you didn’t know what you would tell him if you'd actually found him. 

So you just gave up, suddenly anxious. 

During the drive home, you called Johnny, not caring about the late hour. He had some explaining to do. “I can’t believe you’ve done that,” was the first thing you said into the phone. 

Johnny’s voice was bright and not at all sleepy. He probably wasn’t home. 

“So you’ve met him,” he chuckled lightly. “John,” you murmured tired, unable to say anything more and hoping that the tone of your voice would make him understand. And he did. “I know, I know. But listen, you’re in love with him,” he said. You groaned. “I don’t know, Johnny. I was alright before meeting him again”.

Johnny’s voice got clearer signaling that he went somewhere quieter. “It’s not true. You were not okay. Do you think I don’t have eyes?”

“But what if-” your voice stopped working and you had to gulp down. Your eyes stung as finally, you let your emotions flow after seeing Doyoung. 

God, you didn’t want to cry. 

“What if I’m like this only because I can’t have him? What if, I don’t know, we get together, right? and, and, what if, fuck, I don’t know, I just change my mind? and I hurt him? again? like, like-” you stuttered and ate your words. “Like you did with me?” Johnny asked. You started to cry silently. “Listen,” he repeated calmly, still able to hear your muffled breaths, “it’s going to be alright. What happened with us it’s not your fault, okay? Not entirely. We-” he stopped as well, thinking. “Johnny, it’s fine, we don’t have to talk about that again,” you sniffled. “No, no, wait, I need the right words,” he assured you. “We just weren’t a match, okay? We liked each other because we were good friends and we saw each other grow up, we were always together and we do love each other, okay? we really do, but not- just not that way,” he added after a pause. You nodded, even if he wasn’t able to see, remembering the long and emotional conversation you had a few months ago. “Doyoung though-” he went on and you breathed in and out, “he’s different. And you know that. Everything is different with him. So go and tell him what you feel, Y/N, please. I hate seeing you this way,” Johnny’s voice got thinner as if was worried. You sniffled again in silence and you both just listened to each other's breaths for a while. It calmed you. “Well,” you finally spoke with a hoarse voice. “It’s too late now” “No, no, Y/N-” Johnny interrupted you. “John, he’s married, he got married, he did it, it’s too late, I can’t-” you interrupted him as well. “Okay, okay, he’s married, like a fucking dumbass, okay,” he calmed you again. “But, honestly, I don’t give a single fuck at the same time. You said he didn’t even know the girl. He got set up. By his family. Like in a fucking soap opera. Who does that nowadays?” You sighed slightly amused. “Say fuck one more time”. “Fuck,” he swore then lightly chuckled. “Seriously though, talk to him, okay?”

And you said that you would. 

And now you were there, eyes darting in the cafeteria looking for Doyoung again, heart stinging and anxiety as never before. 

Haechan raised an eyebrow at your question. “I’m eating with you because you would probably eat alone right now. And-” he talked raising a finger as he sensed you wanting to interrupt him, “-if by 'my group of people'" he mimicked the quotations marks with his fingers, "you mean Doyoung, he never eats here. He stays in the office.”

You put your slice of pizza down and crossed your arms on your chest as if indicating that you didn’t like how Haechan assumed things.  Haechan smiled.  “I wasn’t looking for Doyoung”, you lied.  Haechan mocked you with a bemused face. “I wAsn’t loOkiNg foR DoYouNg. I can tell him that you were looking for him if you want”.  “No, Haechan. Wait, I’m-” you clenched your jaw and closed your eyes briefly. 

Haechan stared at you waiting for you to go on sensing something more than just you wanting to see your crush. 

“Do you think I should talk to him?” you asked after the pause.  The boy's eyes turned serious.  “About what?” he asked as well.  You sighed. “About us. We… I don’t know. We almost kinda dated and he liked me first but I liked another guy and then when I understood my feelings he said that he was getting married and I had to act so quickly and I fucking panicked and then he was gone and I realized how much I’m in lov-” you stopped yourself from the frantic babbling. You gulped and looked around, as if afraid of people hearing you, or - worse - Doyoung himself. 

Haechan breathed in and out slowly while adjusting his glasses on his nose. “I think you should talk then,” he replied quietly. 

Your eyes darted towards his, but he wasn’t looking at you. Staring down at his pizza he played with a piece of it, rolling it around. “Are you guys not going along? Do you hate talking about him?” you asked, suddenly aware of his discomfort. 

Haechan thought about it for a second then when he raised his face he got a wide smirk on. 

“Every day that I see him he has a resting bitch face,” he replied, “or he’s annoyed, or he wants to punch me, or he’s like I had enough of you, Haechan,” he deepened his voice trying to imitate him.  You rolled your eyes amused, almost if seeing Doyoung in front of you. 

“Honestly? He’s… weird,” he added a little more seriously. You waited for him to go on, a light pressure wrapping your heart. 

“It’s like,” Haechan spoke again looking at the ceiling as if unsure of what words to use, “he’s a house with all the lights on, and you come closer, but no one is inside?” he questioned looking back at you.  “So you’re left with this sense of worry and uneasiness. I want to understand him but he… won’t let me get close. Not that I actually want that,” he explained with a smile. 

You rested your back on the chair, pensive and suddenly feeling uneasy yourself by Haechan’s smile that didn’t reach his eyes at all.

_____

Insomnia, change in appetite, dizziness, rapid mood swings, intrusive thoughts, lack of concentration, pronounced sensitivity to external events, unfulfilled and intense longing. Isn’t this what Doyoung feared all along? Isn’t this what he tried to avoid? 

“You don’t look that good, son.” 

Doyoung turned his head towards his father as if seeing him for the first time. He hasn't been for a while now but thanks for noticing. 

It was a bright and yellow morning. Rude and unnecessary. 

“Maybe,” the man talked again with a weird twinkle in his eyes, smiling at his wife, making her chuckle as if she was already able to understand what he was trying to say, “you didn’t get enough sleep last night?” his father finished. Doyoung’s mother hit her husband’s hand tenderly with a little stop it. “I know you’re a grown-up man, Doyoung, but we still have some rules in this house. Sleeping with a lady on the first date it not gallant”. 

Doyoung stared at them both. 

Oh. 

Right.

He met his allegedly future wife the previous night. And they were right. He did come back in the morning. It was a beautiful evening. Doyoung was sitting down rolling the stem of his glass of wine between two fingers, watching the way the dim lights of the restaurant made the golden liquid shine. Then he opened up another button on his shirt, feeling pathetic that he actually made an effort to look good for someone he didn’t care about. He ruffled his hair. He sighed. When The Wife came, he saw her legs first, walking slowly in a high pair of heels. Doyoung let his eyes gaze on them, going up shamelessly until meeting the seam of her tight dress. So he wasn’t the only one that tried for no reason. In spite of everything, Doyoung stood up and put a smile on his face. The Wife did the same and shook his hand. She sat down and the waiter came to fill up her glass as well. She said she was sorry for being a little late. Doyoung said it was alright. It was a nice night, wasn’t it? Yes, it was indeed. Kinda chilly. Yes, it is. The smog these days is terrible. Have you ever eaten in this restaurant? No, it’s my first time. What do you think is good? Let’s check the menu. 

“Listen, Doyoung,” she finally said his name after a moment of silence, the cutlery gently hitting the plates as the only sound to fill the room. Doyoung looked up chewing slowly, unable to feel any taste. “You seem like a good person and I don’t know what kind of relationship you have with your family and what’s your opinion on all of this-” she started gesturing vaguely at them both, “-but I am in love with somebody else”, she finished. 

Doyoung blinked at her, feeling nothing and gulped down. His head was completely empty. 

He looked at her worried and pained face and felt like seeing his reflection in a mirror. She was in love? He felt sorry. 

But she was also happy. He could see it in her eyes, in the way her expression wrinkles weren’t accustomed to frowning like that. She wasn't unhappy. She was just worried. That Doyoung would say that he doesn’t care about her love. Forcing her to marry him anyway. 

“Me too”, Doyoung said after a few seconds. 

The relief that washed over The Wife’s face was so contagious that Doyoung felt like smiling himself, but he didn’t. It wasn’t nothing to be happy for. Not for him. Not at that moment. 

“So what are we going to do?” he asked her. She blushed. “We’re not going to get married. If my parents don’t agree... I’ll just run away! - with him!”. 

She was so confident, radiant, and - in love - that Doyoung had to recollect himself after being hit with so much light. She knew what she wanted and she was going to get it. She was in love and she was loved back. 

Doyoung felt like crying. He wanted that so badly as well. 

“I came here to speak to you directly because even if I already knew what I was about to do, I thought it wasn’t unfair to not explain myself and just vanish”, she added. Doyoung nodded and sipped on his drink, unable to speak. The Wife-but-not-Doyoung’s-one-anymore looked at him with a wide smile but he saw how it flattered a little seeing his expression.   “And what are you going to do?” she asked cautiously. Doyoung shrugged, letting his lips stretch in a smile that couldn’t reach his eyes. “I don’t know. Live in the moment, I guess,” was his reply, hoping that it was an adequate answer and to just drop that conversation. 

The Wife furrowed her eyebrows. 

“Did you come here with the intent to actually force yourself into this stupid relationship? While being in love with somebody else? Like an idiot?” the Wife asked. 

Doyoung felt his eyes widen at her use of words. He suddenly felt pathetic and weak in comparison. 

“No one is waiting for me,” he explained. “It’s too late now”. The Wife scoffed. “Are you in love or what?”. 

Doyoung emptied his glass with a trembling hand. 

“I just feel like I’ve been fighting a lot by myself while no one is fighting for me, so I gave up, as pitiful as that might sound,” he explained himself. His voice got sharper and he just wanted to go home. 

The girl rested her back on the chair while crossing her arms on her chest with an angry expression. The fact that she didn’t need to walk on eggshells around him anymore made her real personality shine through. Doyoung found it rather refreshing but he hated it at the same time. He was scrutinizing himself very well already, judging his every step and word and thought. He didn’t need other people to do it as well. 

“So you never broke down,” she observed. Doyoung looked up. 

“Do you need to reach a breaking point?” he questioned. “Do I really need to get to the point of losing all my pride and sanity? It doesn’t have to be like this. Love is not like this”. 

The Wife tilted her head to the side as if analyzing him. Doyoung felt vulnerable all of a sudden. 

What was he doing? Talking about feelings with a stranger? A stranger he was sure he was about to marry just 5 minutes ago? He felt dizzy and his head hurt. 

“No,” she agreed. “Love is not only this, no. But it can be like this sometimes." Doyoung poured some more wine into the empty glasses. “Why is she not doing it then? Why does it always have to be me?” Doyoung asked with the littlest voice. “Why did she let me go so easily?” The Wife sighed. “I don’t know her nor do I know you. But it sounds to me like she perhaps loves you too much-”

Doyoung interrupted her with a chuckle, shaking his head. 

“-because!” the girl raised her voice for fear of being interrupted, “-she did not let her egoistical feelings get in the way. If you told her that you were about to get married, she obviously thought about you first, instead of herself and her needs. What would have you done in her place?” she asked. 

“Fight,” Doyoung whispered. “But did you?” she asked again. 

Doyoung gulped. 

“Did you fight for her love? Your parents told you that you had to get married and what did you do? Accepted it? You went to her and were like 'listen this is the situation, can you promise me you’ll love me forever so that I know it’s worth fighting for you?' Is this what you did?” the Wife was almost angry and in another situation, Doyoung would have found it entertaining. 

He didn’t reply. The Wife took it for tacit approval and went on. 

“We’re taught to not be selfish in love, that if you love them then just let them go, and all of this bullshit, but!-” she slammed her hand on the table suddenly making Doyoung jolt, “-it doesn’t mean that’s how she is really feeling. I’d say she loves you." she pointed her finger towards him as a politician would after their speech. 

“No, don’t feed my hopes, please. You don’t know anything,” he shook his head. “Doyoung, this makes no fucking sense. Get out of your head. I want you to call her, now. Just talk. Communication." “What?” “Call her. Do it. I want you to explain the new situation to her. Tell her that you aren’t getting married and that you love her and you’re ready to fight for your love. Show yourself."

Doyoung shook his head again. “Stop it.”

“Do it."

“Who do you think you are?” Doyoung was starting to get a little angry. 

The Wife didn't budge and just smiled. 

“Fate."

“We’re done. There’s nothing else to do now." Doyoung got up suddenly and retrieved his wallet. A waiter came from the shadows to accept his card. The Wife sighed and just looked at him as if disappointed. “Alright, but when Fate is going to kick you in the butt again when you least expect it, please think of me and my words." “I don’t believe in fate,” he replied putting on his jacket. 

But Doyoung thought of those words all night while moving his phone from one hand to another, walking home slowly. It was cold as hell and he enjoyed the pain of it. He wasn’t alone. He could almost see the black car that was following him from a certain distance. “Yes, sir,” was the bodyguard’s answer when he told him to fuck off after he insisted on taking him home as programmed. 

And he thought of those words again, months later, the instant he heard your voice in that party hall. He swore he was hallucinating. He felt his limbs paralyzing and shaking at the same time. But he was trained. He knew how to work in these high tension situations. It was a little click and he couldn’t feel anything, adrenaline killed and buried in the deepest parts of his brain, like hungry wolves ready to tear him to pieces when he wouldn’t have had the force to keep them locked anymore. And so he moved like a machine, like something as far from human as possible. Later. We’ll deal with this later. I can’t. I can’t do it now. I can’t let myself fall. Stay. Focus. Later he could feel it indeed. It came eventually. He felt it right there while worried about your cut. He felt it as he held your hand and dragged you away. Pain washed him all over as if for the first time and love. Oh, love, it was so much love, he felt like drowning, he felt like a withering garden begging for rain and it came suddenly, so quickly, that he couldn’t possibly absorb it all at once. 

When he opened the bathroom cabinets he saw the first aid kit in a second, but he felt so overwhelmed and all over the place that he couldn’t bring himself to face you properly. He pretended to look for it for a while and his body felt your burning gaze all over his skin. Why were you looking at him like that? Stop it, no, please continue, no, stop, it’s too much, please, please, never stop looking at me. 

When he turned around he couldn’t bring himself to touch you again either without dragging you against his chest, never letting go. Was this fate? Was this the fate The Wife was talking about? Is this real? Is everything real at all?

As Doyoung’s parents were scolding him about apparently fucking like a rabbit the whole night, he put down his coffee and intertwined his fingers together, resting his face on them, closing his eyes and breathing in. 

“We’re not getting married,” he suddenly spoke up. The cutlery stopped moving and his parents’ faces fell off. 

“What?” Mother asked with a tiny voice. “What are you talking about?” Father furrowed his eyebrows, no amusement left in his eyes. Doyoung looked at them.

“I-am-” Doyoung articulated every word well and slowly as if talking with a stupid person, “-not-getting-fucking-married."

Father’s breath grew in pace, eyes out of his orbits. 

“Doyoung,” his mother’s voice was a little surprised whine. 

He looked at her with the corner of his eyes and his expression was probably one of his worst ones so far since she jolted imperceptibly as if seeing her son for the first time. 

“What’s with this attitude? Who do you think you are?” Father’s voice was getting deeper and his cheeks and neck reddening. 

Doyoung looked back at him with a killing glare. 

“Doyoung, sweetheart, you don’t have to get married tomorrow. Get to know each other first. You’ll definitely like each other as time goes by-” Mother tried to calm everyone down. 

“Like you and dad?” Doyoung let his tongue be as poisonous as it wanted. “Getting married to someone for convenience to just fight like fucking dogs every day in front of a child, huh?” he asked. 

Mother gasped and covered her mouth with the impeccable napkin. 

“Kim Dongyoung!” Father hit the table with his fist making all the tableware tremble. 

Doyoung didn’t flinch. 

“Do you want my son to assist at how I fuck different women every night? Pretending that he doesn’t understand what’s going on?”

Mother started to sob. 

“And you,” Doyoung spoke to her, ignoring her tears, “do you want my son to listen to his mother bad mouthing me from the most tender age? Telling him what a terrible father I am, that he shouldn’t love him, letting him know how unhappy she is while the only thing he should be preoccupied about is the multiplication table and which toy he should be playing that day with?” Doyoung directed his gaze towards his mom raising his voice on the last words. 

“Do you want me to bring my son to work to prove to my wife that I am in fact not fucking the secretary while letting her suck my cock under the desk?” he continued this time directing his speech towards Father. 

The man was fully red at this point and when he got up from his chair Doyoung thought that he was about to punch him or just drag him on the ground. 

But he didn’t. He was shaking as if no one had confronted him like that before. 

His voice was dangerous and slow, like a poisonous snake. 

“You’re going to get what you deserve, Dongyoung,” he spoke and Doyoung knew what that was. 

Because in his father’s eyes, Doyoung was the faulty one.  For speaking up. For telling the truth. For letting both of them, grown-up adults that were still running away from themselves like children, face their own feelings and shortcomings. Forcing him to be perfect and to do stuff that they wanted. Forcing him to accept every shitty thing they did but making him feel guilty for his actions. 

“I will. And you as well, Father,” he replied getting up and throwing his napkin on top of his plate. His mother’s sobs were the only sound he could hear as he exited the room.

Doyoung apologized for having spilled his drink on you. And you looked up as if that was the last of your problems. Your fingers were trembling as you disinfected your cut and Doyoung knew it wasn’t because of the pain. 

Right? 

No, don’t do it. Don’t go there again Doyoung. For once, for a single time, stop jumping ahead. Just ask. Stop living in your head. Don’t assume. She’s not in love. She’s not here because of you. This is not fate. 

So he did ask. He asked why were you there and the transient relief he felt when he was as close as to believe he was the reason for all of that, that maybe, just maybe, you tried to be selfish again, washed away. Because he could see how sincere you were while assuring him that you had no idea it was the place he was working at. There was no plan. 

So this is fate? This is how it works? It gives you the possibility but you still have to work for it? You still have to endure the pain of trying and trying and failing over and over again? If fate could make you both meet again, why didn't it do everything? Why did fate bring you in front of his eyes again just to listen to your sweet voice say that you were over him? Like a slap. Like giving a thirsty man a cup of water and taking it away right before the moment a single drop of refreshing sweetness could have eased his burning tongue.

It’s not so simple to draw the line. This was the only lesson Doyoung fully understood. There’s no one way someone can be. It’s not black and it’s not white. Everything is blurry. Everything is gray.

_____

“Y/N." It took only that single word to make Doyoung snap his head up and look at Haechan. “She was looking for you,” he added while standing in front of Doyoung’s desk, one hand comfortably inside his pants pocket, the other holding a coffee. 

“Is that for me?” Doyoung asked eyeing the cup. 

Haechan snorted incredulously. 

“I’m telling you that the ex you’re still in love with was looking for you and you talk about a goddamn coffee?” 

Doyoung straightened his back. 

“She told you that she’s my ex?” he asked surprised. “So you don’t deny that you’re in love with her,” Haechan considered while sipping on the coffee. 

Doyoung’s eyes got darker as they usually did when talking to Haechan but the younger one could see the redness on his cheeks and the way his adam apple traveled up and down, anxious and embarrassed. 

Oh Doyoung, Haechan thought, you’re so fragile. 

“How is that your business?” Doyoung didn’t budge, even though he was aware that Haechan was your new interest. 

Was Haechan jealous? Was that a new way Haechan tried to make him angry with? Since Doyoung arrived at the company Haechan has never let him alone. He was nagging and whining and messing up with Doyoung, making him angry and irritated, laughing when Doyoung snapped. 

Haechan shrugged. “I’m a Gemini. Everything is my business."

Doyoung sighed and flipped the papers he had underneath his hands as if telling the other that the conversation was over. 

But he still felt the other’s gaze on top of his head for long seconds. “So you’re going to be a pussy about it.” Haechan didn’t move and talked with a low voice Doyoung has never heard before. “You’re going to hold yourself back and prepare some escaping routes, just like always."

Doyoung stilled and looked up.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked almost in a whisper, too surprised by Haechan’s serious tone to actually get angry at the insult. 

“I see you, Doyoung. I really see you. And I see how your father treats you,” Haechan sipped on his coffee again while staring out of the office windows as if talking about anything besides that. “Y/N was surprised when I told her that you weren’t some CEO or something. I didn’t tell her that you were punished.” Haechan filled the silence again as Doyoung was just staring. “I wasn’t punished,” Doyoung gave him a death glare. 

Haechan shrugged. 

“Do something for yourself for once, would you?” he added and Doyoung could have sworn that underneath the nonchalant mask Haechan had on, rested a troubled and sensitive soul. 

“Are you two not dating?” Doyoung finally spoke when finding his voice. 

Haechan came back to his normal self with a nasal laugh. 

“You are so fucking stupid, oh my God,” he groaned. “No, darling, we’re not. That poor girl was too proud to admit that she’s in love with you while you probably just got back from your 'forced newlywed trip'”. 

Doyoung furrowed his eyebrows and that was enough for Haechan to widen his eyes. 

“So it’s not true,” he whispered. 

Doyoung didn’t comment on that and Haechan didn’t add anything. 

He looked out of the window again, lower lip slightly trembling so he bit on it. Then he smiled bitterly. “Fuck. Then you have to tell her that. Talk to Y/N,” he whispered again and just left leaving Doyoung confused as never before.

_____

You didn’t see Doyoung that morning and you didn’t see him during lunch either. Then at almost 5 o’clock your phone rang again. You rolled your eyes wondering what Haechan wanted to say to you. “Y/N from Marketing speaking." Your voice was flat but a little amused, ready to listen to whatever nonsense Haechan will talk about. 

But when you heard the voice you gasped silently. 

“Hello, Y/N. Doyoung from IT here."  

His voice was warm and deep. Your breath grew heavier. 

You couldn’t speak so you closed your eyes. Doyoung didn’t add anything either and you both ended up just listening to each others’ breaths for a while. 

“Doyoung,” you said after what felt like ages and a few seconds at the same time, your nerves thin as never. 

What were you both doing? What was this? 

“Y/N,” he said in the same tone but then cleared his throat. “I-” he stopped. “I actually called with a purpose,” he added. 

You imagined him, sitting behind his desk, cheeks flushed, fingers restless. 

Or so you hoped. 

Maybe he was just nervous. Maybe he hated to see you again. Maybe he was over you and now his pain just got back and it was all your fault. 

“Yes?” you asked, raising your voice to seem nonchalant. “Yes. There’s this project that Haechan and I are working on,” he started, “-and we’ve been told to work with someone from marketing for the selling issues. And they suggested you since you’re new and you still have to prove yourself” he finished explaining. 

You nodded. “Yes. Okay. Alright,” you almost stuttered. 

“Come to my office. The map is on the server,” he ordered softly and hang up. 

Just like that. 

You remained still for a few seconds, with the beep-beep of the line ringing in your ears. Then you swallowed with a certain difficulty feeling your throat dry.

When you arrived in front of his door, thin nerves and muscles shaking, you just closed your eyes and forced yourself to calm down. You were about to see Doyoung. You were about to see him and talk to him. It wasn’t a dream and it wasn’t a fantasy. He was there, behind this thin closed door. 

God. 

You knocked. 

His melodious voice told you to come in. And you did. He was sitting behind his desk, blinds slightly closed making the office semi-dark. “I didn’t know IT people had their own offices,” you smiled awkwardly while stepping in and closing the door behind you. “Well, we don’t need human interaction to do our jobs,” he replied in the same tone. 

He got up and indicated you to sit down on the couch in front of his desk. He brought his laptop with him and placed it on the coffee table in front of it. You sat down, hands neatly placed on your thighs and you hoped he didn’t hear the way your breath hitched as he sat down as well, his thigh touching yours slightly. 

His cologne was the same, you noticed, and your fingers vibrated, trying hard to stop themselves from touching him. You looked at his shoulders and imagined tracing them with your hand. Then wrapping them as you got closer. Then sliding them up to his nape, slowly, into his hair, closer and closer and closer and feeling his breath and kissing his lips and sitting on his lap and as you did so, his arms would hug you, pulling you close while he whispered your name. 

Y/N. Y/N. Y/N. 

“Y/N." You jolted. He was turned to you, hands on the laptop screen, a PowerPoint on it. You looked at the computer then at his face. He understood that you haven’t been listening to him and sighed.  

You breathed in and out. 

“Doyoung,” you said and you saw him visibly shiver hearing your voice call his name. 

“I think that we should t-” but you couldn’t finish the sentence as the door got opened with a loud thud. 

Haechan was almost breathless when he barged in. 

You and Doyoung looked behind your backs, both surprised to see Haechan with flushed cheeks and red eyes. “Haechan,” you said. “Is everything alright?” Doyoung asked as well. Haechan caught his breath by now, staring at you both then his lips tightened in a straight line. “Yeah. Yes. Sorry, I’m late. Let’s go to the conference room. It’s more spacious there,” he spoke up and turning around he just left. You and Doyoung looked at each other surprised. 

You bit your lower lip, unable to carry on the conversation anymore. 

“You were saying? I think we should?” Doyoung didn’t budge. 

His eyes were dark and his lips slightly parted. You stared at them, perhaps far too long because you suddenly felt your cheeks hot and your breath hitch. 

You were leaning in, imperceptibly and Doyoung saw. 

He didn’t get away and he didn’t refuse you. Looking at his eyes for a split second you could see that he was nervous. 

Then the magic disappeared again as Haechan’s voice made you both jolt again.  “What are you doing? Are you coming or not?” he yelled.

_____

You were sitting down, each with their own computer, clicking and typing. Doyoung briefly filled you in, explaining again what you needed to do. You just nodded and got to work. 

“When is this due?” you asked after probably twenty minutes of full silence. You knew Doyoung would be silent but Haechan? It was surprising to see him so concentrated on his work, not looking up even once, no jokes, and no smirks. He was also in a bad mood, you thought, his red swollen eyes still fresh in your memory. 

“Tomorrow morning. We’ll have a meeting and we’ll present the project. Hopefully, it goes well and we can go on with it,” Doyoung replied softly, almost in a whisper. You nodded. It was doable. You got back to work a didn’t speak for some time. 

God, you were about to kiss him. 

What were you thinking? What the fuck were you thinking? And him? Not pulling away? Staying still and looking at your lips the way you looked at his? You could do it, right? Maybe it was possible. You could talk to him and everything would be alright. Just like you’ve always dreamed. 

Right? Right?

After an indefinite amount of time, you looked up and glanced at the time. 

“Fuck,” you swore. 

It was already night and you did almost nothing. 

Haechan raised his eyes as well for the first time and turned around to see the dark windows. “We can take a break,” Doyoung murmured closing his laptop. 

Haechan relaxed on his back. “Who appointed you as a leader?” he asked amused. You smiled a little, happy to see him that way again. 

Doyoung crossed his arms on his chest. “You can be a leader then.” “Okay, then I decide that we can take a break,” Haechan giggled and you chuckled as well. 

Doyoung opened his mouth to say something but his voice got suddenly swallowed by a loud, weird noise. 

You all looked up and in seconds water poured out of the ceiling. 

You screamed and got up suddenly. 

“What’s going on?” you asked no one in particular putting your hands on your head instinctively.  “The sprinkles!” Haechan yelled. “But there’s no fire? Is it?” you asked looking around the room, shocked. 

"Haechan Lee!" Doyoung groaned, eyelashes fluttering in an attempt to see through the drops. "It's not my fault! I didn't do anything this time!" Haechan screamed back, one hand shielding his head. "Go and stop this mess!" the older ordered. 

Haechan had the time to roll his eyes before running to the wall on the opposite side of the conference room. 

You whined, leaving them to their bickering and tried hard to cover the computers ignoring that they were already wet in a desperate attempt to salvage them. 

Doyoung looked at you and promptly came closer, grabbing stuff and throwing it under the desk before realizing that it was too late. 

He groaned again. 

You fell to your knees defeated, fists holding handfuls of melted paper. 

"It doesn't work," Haechan yelled. Doyoung looked at him with such anger that you sensed it radiating through him even if unable to look at him in the face. "For fuck's sake, Haechan, you're useless!" Doyoung walked over and pressed the buttons on the switchboard then looking up at the ceiling as if expecting it to stop soon. 

"What the actual fuck," he swore loudly since it wasn't working indeed. 

Haechan whined beside him. "This was my best suit". 

Doyoung ignored him and walked towards you again, looking around for his phone. "Aren't there other people in this god-forsaken company?" "Shouldn't it stop by now?" you asked, your voice almost inaudible. "I don't know. Something's broken," he spoke more softly to you.

You patted your jacket and retrieved your phone from the inside pocket. It was slightly damp but it worked. "Here," you handed it to Doyoung as he was about to lose his mind from not finding his. He took it and putting one hand on his hip he called someone. 

In the meantime, Haechan crossed the room again and looked at the desk near you and the papers on the floor. "Shit," he commented. “At least I saved on the server,” he added. 

You looked at his wet strands of hair as he passed a hand on his forehead throwing them back. “Me too,” you said to Haechan, then you both turned to Doyoung. 

"They're coming. Let's leave the roo-" he ordered but his voice died in his throat when he heard what you were talking about. He looked down at the computers, pale as a sheet. “Doyoung?” Haechan’s voice was low and dangerous. “You also saved on the server, right?”

He didn’t and while you’ve followed angry Doyoung fighting with an angry Haechan through the corridos directed to the janitor’s room your head was hurting so badly that you thought it would burst. 

“Listen,” Doyoung stopped suddenly making you almost bump into him, “I am a fucking mess, okay?” his index was pointed towards Haechan. “I am a mess and I have so fucking much on my mind, I can’t concentrate, I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, and I know this is not an excuse for not doing your job well but guess what, I am not perfect, okay? I am not fucking perfect. I make mistakes and I don’t give a shit, alright? I don’t give a single fuck about anything. And now shut up and go home if you want. You’ve done your part,” he spitted out then busted the janitor’s room open and entered it. 

Haechan was still in the corridor a few steps ahead of you. 

You were both still, shocked by Doyoung’s rage. 

But then Haechan started to chuckle softly and looked at you. 

“He did it, finally,” he said, without giving you any explanation and got into the room as well.

_____

"You've already seen it, Doyoung," you whispered slightly embarrassed. 

Doyoung was in front of you, one hand placed on the other hand’s wrist trying to undone his sleeves, as he watched you getting undressed. 

He looked at the way your bra cupped your soft breasts then promptly turned around. 

“You could have gone to another room,” his voice was steady but his reddish ears gave him away. 

You were told that the janitors had clean uniforms in the storage room and now you were in the middle of getting your soaked clothes off, with no time to go home and get changed since the dear Doyoung didn’t save any of your work. 

“And also, I've never seen anything," he said. "Well, I’m not saying naked but you definitely saw me in a bra before,” you replied. 

Doyoung’s back tightened and he turned around, looking at you from under his wet hair. "I'm afraid you're mistaking me for Johnny," he raised his eyebrows before turning away again. 

You opened your mouth to speak but you were too surprised to say anything. Doyoung's eyes were - you might dare say - jealous and furious. 

Was this what Haechan was talking about before? That he’s done it? Was he talking about Doyoung just owning his true feelings and wearing him of his sleeve? Did he finally snap? 

"Okay, so who is this Johnny guy?" Haechan stepped closer with a sly smile. You looked at him but he wasn't looking at you. No, he was looking at you but not at your face. 

Doyoung raised his gaze for a second and slapped his shoulder. "Look away."

Haechan exaggerated a cry. “I was just curious. I don’t care about Y/N."

“How can you not care about her?” Doyoung mumbled and you swore that your face turned violet. 

Haechan put his tongue in his cheeks annoyed. "Doyoung, you're so fucking stupid. So many months working together and you still didn't get it?" 

"Doyoung," you called him softly. "He's not interested in boobs," you explained with a smile, still shy from Doyoung's previous words. 

Haechan gulped, suddenly blushing even harder. 

Doyoung turned his head around and furrowed his eyebrows at you. 

Then his eyes got wide and when he looked back at Haechan he noticed his red cheeks and the way he tried to not look at Doyoung's naked upper body. 

Doyoung covered his nipples. 

Haechan groaned and hit him. 

“I’m not interested in you either, dumbass,” he added but still turned around to not look at either of you.

_____

It was hours later and you kept glancing at the neon green number on the clock in front of you. You got back to Doyoung’s office to, well, continue or start again everything you’ve done before. 

“If you’re tired, you can go home, it’s fine,” Doyoung’s soft voice grabbed your attention. 

You sighed and closed your computer. 

“Do you want to talk?” you asked with a low voice. 

It was almost a whisper but in the thick silence of the room, disrupted only by the buzz of the computers and your breaths, it sounded almost too loud. You glanced at Haechan, fast asleep with the head on his arms then you glanced at Doyoung again and at his slightly surprised expression. 

That was blunt and all of a sudden. But it was so late and you were exhausted physically and mentally and you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You both knew that you weren’t asking to chat about the weather but he still wanted to make sure. 

“Talk about what?” 

Yeah. Talk about what? Us? Is there an us? There was only you and him and the feelings in between. Talk about feelings? Does he have feelings as well though? Talk about me and my feelings? Fuck. 

You looked down at your hands still on the keyboard and at the way your fingers started to shake. You clasped them together. 

“I still have feelings for you,” you breathed out suddenly, then you looked up for a split second to see Doyoung’s expression. 

His eyes were wide and round, his glossy pupils shaking imperceptibly. He didn’t expect you to say it like that. 

“I know,” he whispered. 

Your breath hitched at his words and you tried to swallow the lump forming in your throat. 

He knows. He knows? He knows. 

Of course, he knows. He probably noticed. You were no actress and you couldn’t fake your emotions. Also, you tried to kiss him just a few hours before that.

He knows. 

Okay. 

That’s it? And now?

You shook your head. “No,” you said. “I don’t think you do”.

Doyoung blinked, a single expression line between his eyebrows. “I don’t just have feelings for you, Doyoung. I am in love with you,” you confessed and this time you tried to sustain his gaze. 

Doyoung’s adam apple went up and down and his lips opened as if he couldn’t breathe. 

“I am foolishly in love with you. I am foolishly in love with everything you are and with everything you do,” your voice trembled. “ “When I think and when I don’t think, you’re still in my mind, roaming around the whole day. And during the night I can’t get any relief from this mind of mine because you’ll visit me again and for a while," you breathed in sharply, talking fast, "-just for a while, the gap inside of me would get filled only for me to wake up and realize that it was just a dream. I have so many feelings and all of them are consumed by you and I have so many things but they all mean nothing to me, without you. And I could blame everything and everyone for this but it’s all on me. It’s all on me, Doyoung. I knew everything and I still acted that way and when I heard you before when you said that you couldn’t concentrate or sleep or-” and you choked, tears spilling on your face. 

Your hands found them and you hid your head in your palms only to jolt and look up at your side after a moment.

Doyoung got up in a second and grabbed your hand. 

He was standing there with his fingers around your wrist, flushed and short-breathed. 

Then he pulled you towards him making you stand up and you let him do that, landing in his arms, wrapping yours around his torso, muffling your cry with his shirt, closing your eyes, drifting away, head empty and heart full. 

Doyoung was holding you tight, one hand on your back and the other one on your nape, stroking your hair and shushing you softly. “I hate to see you cry and I hate that I’m the reason for that. I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered against your temple. You shook your head with an exasperated whine and looked up at him. “You didn’t do anything, Doyoung,” you objected. 

He looked at your face as well. He didn’t expect that. He didn’t expect any of that. His mind was racing and his heard was about to give up. 

“That’s the point,” he explained. “I didn’t do anything. I could have tried more. I walked on eggshells around you the whole time and at the first problem I would just let you go, finding an excuse, being afraid-” “No,” you interrupted him, shaking your head again, “I don’t want to hear you blame yourself." “I don’t want to hear you blame yourself either,” he replied. 

You opened your mouth but didn’t say anything, knowing how stubborn Doyoung could get. 

Okay. Okay. It's fine. 

“Okay, now I-” you looked at your hands, pressed on his chest feeling his heart pumping blood like crazy. 

Your first instinct was to just pull yourself away, telling him that you’ve said everything you had to say. And wait. Wait for him to take the second step, to understand your thoughts without you explaining anything, just like he has always done before. But Johnny’s voice thundered in your head telling you to talk and explain yourself and to use your words, so you raised your head to look at Doyoung again. 

He didn’t look away from you, not for one second, and when you locked eyes he brought one hand up to cup your face and with his thumb he caressed your cheek, removing the last tear. 

“What about you, Doyoung? Do you love me?” your voice trembled. 

Doyoung sighed as if relieved. 

He pulled you close and cupped your face with the other hand as well. 

He leaned in until breathing on your open lips.

“I love you,” he said in the tiniest of whispers. 

“I love you,” he repeated. You whimpered. 

“I love you, Y/N. I love you,” his soft chant continued. 

He said that again and again, kissing you with little pecks, then again after the kiss got slower and as your lips didn’t want to leave each other anymore. 

“Look, I’m glad you idiots finally aren’t idiots anymore,” Haechan’s voice startled you for the third time that day, “but would you get a room? If not I’m going home."

_____

You ended up all going home that night - or very early morning. The project could have granted you all a promotion but you decided that you all didn’t give a single fuck. Everything looked so unimportant now that Doyoung was holding your hand and your muscles relaxed in his arms. 

You felt asleep there, in the crook of his neck, deeply, after months of insomnia. 

You remembered little snaps as he carried to his car. He would shush you when your fingers gripped his shirt harder. 

“Doyoung, it’s fine, I can walk. Put me down,” you whispered going in and out of sleep. “Sleep, I’ll take care of you,” and the kiss he planted on your forehead felt like a spell as you lost consciousness soon after. 

You didn’t wake up a single time during the drive and it was only when you reached your front door that Doyoung woke you up by gently shaking your shoulders. “Sorry,” he said. “Last time I had luck but this time I can’t find your keys,” he added when you fully opened your eyes with a yawn. “My bag now has more stuff in it than when I was at university,” you smiled. Your voice was hoarse from the nap and from the cry you had. 

Then you entered your apartment, walking slowly in silence, and you both undressed, throwing the coarse uniforms away. 

You did it lazily and with no malice, looking at each other bodies, this time without blushing. 

Then you sat down on your bed, completely naked and you looked at Doyoung, naked as well, standing in front of you as he removed the last piece of fabric from his body. 

“Wait,” he suddenly said, and turning around he left the room. You looked at his back as he was walking away and sighed. 

You couldn’t believe it. 

It was so surreal. 

You sighed again deeper, feeling it difficult to breathe. 

You were exhausted and drained, body aching and head-spinning so when Doyoung came back with a glass of water all you could think of was the morning after your terrible meeting with Doyoung. 

That time he was also standing in front of you, with one glass of water in his hand, face lit by the new rays of the sun. He had fewer clothes on now, of course, but for some reason, you started to feel as if no time has passed at all between the two events. There was no misunderstanding, no pain, no fights. 

You smiled and took the water from him. He smiled back and sat down on the bed beside you. His eyes were telling that he knew what you were thinking, like soulmates reading each other’s minds and that he was thinking about it as well. 

“Another thing,” he said and his voice was as tired as yours. “Someone, let's say Fate, told me to tell you that I am not married and that I am ready to fight for our love,” he added looking at you with a little nervous smile. 

Your eyes widened. 

“But-” you felt overwhelmed. “But the ring,” you mumbled looking down at his hands as your brain was trying to run at a speed too high for your tired cells. Doyoung looked at his hands as well before raising them up and showing that they were bare. “It was just a random ring. You assumed things,” he replied. 

You looked back at his face, confused and dizzy. 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why-” you gulped, “why didn’t you call?”

Doyoung sighed. 

“I also assumed things. I thought you didn’t love me,” he tightened his lips. “I am sorry,” he whispered wrapping your shoulders with his arms and pulling you towards him. He nudged at your temple while you processed the information, repeating the apology, planting little kisses on your temple. 

“Does this change something?” he asked after a whole minute of silence. His voice sounded afraid and you looked up at him. 

“No, love, no, shh, don’t get me wrong,” you assured him with a pained expression, cupping his face. 

He let you do that, slightly surprised and definitely flushed by the sudden pet-name. “This is even better, isn’t it? I mean, you’re not married,” you chuckled a little. 

Doyoung cupped your face as well, his thumbs pressing at the corners of your eyes. 

“Then why are you crying?” he whispered so softly that it made you sob even harder. 

Your lower lip trembled looking at his eyes, at his expression, at his face, drinking him in. 

“I’m just happy. And I love you. I love you so much and all of this is just-” you smiled through the tears unable to go on. 

You were too exhausted and emotional to be rational in that moment. You had do idea what to do and you just wanted to be. 

Doyoung’s pupils shook as he bit his lip, trying not to cry as well. 

“God, how much water do I need to make you drink to make up for all of these tears?” he chuckled lightly as a few tears fell on his cheeks as well. 

You were both there, naked, crying, and laughing at the same time and you’ve never felt happier in your whole life. 

“What happened though? How did you end up not getting married? What did your parents-” you started to ask wiping your face. Doyoung closed his eyes and shook his head, letting himself fall down on the bed and dragging you with him. “Later,” he mumbled getting you both under the covers when you landed on his chest. 

You smiled and closed your eyes as well. 

And you both slept a lot, hugging each other tight, bare limbs intertwined together, skin pressing on skin, lips murmuring loving whispers. It was the highest level of intimacy, naked in front of each other, and clothes had nothing to do with it. 

Your souls were open and your emotions out, telling each other everything, with no fear and with no more pride.

[darkmulti]

Yandere!Ateez reaction

When you breakup with them and get back together with your ex.

Scenario: you break up with your boyfriend ______. Because he’s overly possessive and get back together with your ex.

⚠️Warnings: violence, mentions of non consensual sex, death

——————————————————————————

Hongjoong

Getting back together with your ex. After you blew him. Hongjoong was sure that he had you wrapped around his fingers. But when you disobeyed him and avoided him for two weeks just to get back together with you ex. that’s just cold.

Hongjoong was furious. He wanted to take you and fuck you into submission. But he kept it cool. He was planning to kidnap the both of you on your next date.

And so he did. He of course had some help and knocked you guys out with gas, and when you woke up your boyfriend was chained to the wall and with his shirt off and hongjoong had a knife in his hand slitting it across his stomach. You were tied to a chair in perfect sight to watch it all.

You remained quiet, because you were in a state of shock. Your boyfriend then made eye contact with you, which made hongjoong turn around and look at you.

“Ah, look who’s awake. This is what you get for leaving me.”

“Hongjoong please let him go, I’ll give you my full submission just let him go.”

“Is that so?”

He called in some people taking your now ex boyfriend away and hongjoong came over to you and kneeled down to eye level.

“We’re getting married, so I can keep you forever and I’ll even have a ring to prove it.”

Seonghwa

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

Seonghwa slammed you against the wall and pinned your hands above your head.

“Let me go!”

He then kissed you forcefully, biting your lips so hard they bled.

You tried fighting back but you couldn’t.

“Seonghwa please.”

You cried out

“Please what?”

He said teasingly

“Stop!”

He then looked at you.

“why should I?”

“Because I’m dating Baekhyun.”

Seonghwa stopped and looked at you.

You only smirked.

“He’s dead.”

“What?”

“He’s dead, I killed him. And now you belong to me.”

Your eyes widened and started to tear up.

Did seonghwa really.

“You disobeyed your master, and now you're gonna be moving into my house.”

Yunho

He really played you like that. Crying in your arms telling you that he’ll change. But it just got worse from there and you really regret taking him back.

Yunho has practically trapped you in the house. You would only go to school and come back home. You weren’t allowed to go out, the only time you could leave was if Yunho was by your side every second.

You had enough and broke off with him again.

And when you did your ex had asked you to get back together bc he was going through some tough times.

So you said yes and went over to his house not knowing Yunho had put a tracker on your phone.

He followed you to his house a couple cars behind and when your destination was here, he was furious.

You were going back to your ex’s house and that is never a good sign.

You rang the doorbell and he let you in, while Yunho was in his car planning on how to take you back.

He got out of his car and entered through an open window.

Meanwhile you and your now boyfriend were preparing for a movie night. Your boyfriend went to go get some snacks like old times and Yunho took this chance to get in and snap his neck.

Your boyfriend let out a scream as you got up frightened. You quickly but discreetly make your way to the kitchen, to be pinned against the wall by a very angry looking Yunho.

You didn’t even say anything and Yunho dragged you out of the house, and that’s the last place you’ve both been seen.

Yeosang

Yeosang had underestimated you. He thought you would’ve taken a phone with you but when he found your phone laying on the night stand he panicked.

He went out and searched everywhere for you.

Police station, cafes, any public place you could possibly be.

He then stopped for a little while.

He realized he needs you to settle down, and then he’ll start looking again. And so he did. He laid back for a little and his plan had worked.

It worked too well. He let you settle long enough for you to get back together with your ex.

When yeosang saw this, he immediately went towards you.

“Hey Y/N, long time no see.”

Yeosang spoke with the most innocent voice

Your eyes widen at the sight of yeosang and you grab your boyfriend's hand pulling him with you.

Yeosang pulled out a gun on your boyfriend's stomach.

“Y/N you come with me I won’t shoot him.”

You look at your boyfriend and his face is covered in fear.

“Okay, just put the gun away yeo.”

“No, come stand beside me.”

You did as told and he put the gun down and grabbed your hand.

“Darling we have a long night ahead of us.”

He said and pulled you with him.

San

You had moved to a different city far away from the one you previously lived in. And now you need a job to help you pay for an apartment. Because all of your savings money has gone into your apartment.

So you searched for a full time job and found a perfect one. It was as a personal assistant but the starting pay was good. So you gathered your résumé and got into you professional clothes.

You arrived at the office job by walking and as soon as you entered in you were greeted by a familiar face.

“Y/N is that you?”

“Oh my god, I haven’t seen you in ages”

You both smile and hug each other. It was your ex boyfriend, from highschool. You two were love birds back then but ended it after he had to move away.

“So you're here for the job interview?”

“Yes”

Your ex had now hired you and you were his personal assistant. You guys were working for a huge makeup company and were in charge of designing the product.

You and your ex had gotten along, and went for drinks to catch up with each other. You became close friends again and later on he had asked you out.

You agreed immediately and the two of you started dating. It had been four months with you away from San and you haven’t heard of him since. You became a little worried that you may have killed him when you knocked him out with the vase.

But sooner or later his face showed up. And right now it was too close to yours. San had you slammed against the wall while opening your blouse and leaving hickies on your neck.

You went to your boyfriend's house for dinner at his place but when you walked in his dead body was the first thing you saw. You ran over to him but before you could make it San had put you in the position you were in now.

“You fucking whore. You’re now my assistant. I bought the entire company and your office is in the basement. I expect you to be at the office at 6:30am sharp. If you're late, just wait, you’ll see.”

Mingi

You left him again. And his stalker side had come out.

Mingi was stalking your 24/7.

He would watch you change, cook dinner, go to the grocery store. He was always watching.

But the one time he wasn’t, you got asked out. By you ex.

Mingi absolutely hated him. Even after you broke up and got together with Mingi, he would still flirt with you. It was clear he still had feelings for you so you didn’t want to be rude and reject him. So you said yes to the date.

You were getting ready and mingi was watching. He saw you change into a red dress and do you hair and makeup. You looked beautiful, but for someone else.

And that broke his heart in a million pieces but at the same time angered him. He wasn’t about to let you date him again.

Mingi crawled through your window while you were in the washroom and turned off all the lights. He then went towards you with a handkerchief in hand.

After that you blacked out. And mingi held you hostage until he made you fall for him again.

Wooyoung

You went on your date with Taemin. You wore a beautiful blue dress and Taemin wouldn’t stop complimenting you. It made you blush and it was a really nice dinner. You learned a lot about him, and he told you he really liked you and didn’t want to use you as a toy.

Usually he would just take the girl back to his place, have sex, then bye. But he took you on a real dinner.

Taemin has dropped you home and you thanked him for the wonderful dinner. He leaned in to kiss you and so did you. It was your first date and you had already kissed him. But you were alright with that.

You smiled and he went back to his car as you opened the door to your house.

You entered your house, but got pushed against the door with a hand grabbing you throat making you look up. It was Wooyoung. You could smell his cologne.

“What the hell are you doing in my house?” You spat at him.

“What the hell are you doing kissing Taemin on the first date with him. You fucking whore thirsty for every mans attention, I see. My dick isn’t small either. It’s enough to make you cry under me. Now be a good doll and strip for daddy.”

————————————

Edited🔐

[not-from-the-absence-of-violence]

to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones

Happy birthday @drowninginstarlights !!! had the whole elaborate well wishing on ao3 so i wont repeat myself but <333 tysm to @leenik-matagot for proofreading and letting me yell about it bc i wasn’t allowed to do it publically.

After the whirlwind that is their lives Travis, Gable, Margaret and Hildred finally get the soft date day they deserve.

Margaret adjusted her grip on Hildreds waist. Victory giving a small squawk as they picked up speed. They were flying over Burza Nyth, the city bustling with excitement of the upcoming competition.

They had all come to watch Hildred compete of course, and Hildred had offered with a wink to take her around to fly with the soon to be 7th time champion.

Margaret had flown a lot in her years, but there was something distinctly exciting about riding Griffins, so openly free in the sky, so dangerously close to falling, so fast.

Gable and Travis were flying next to them on Metatron, Gable looked breathtaking like this, their mind clearly focused, their hair billowing in the wind, Travis as a white snake wrapped around their shoulders making them look all the more impressive.

“Not sure how you are staying focused, dear.” Margaret murmured into their hair.

Hildred laughed openly. “They are truly a sight to behold.” she said, “I am not doing anything particularly complicated right now.”

They gilded gently not too far above the city, taking in the view of both the crowds below them and their partner easily flying next to them.

“If you two will stop gawking.” Travis yelled over the noise of the wind. “I say we do a little race.”

Gable paled a little and seemed to be about to scold Travis, but Hildreds back straightened as she adjusted her grip on the reints.

“You’re on!” they called, and then softer to Margaret behind her with a bright look in her eyes. “You better hold on tight, darling.”

Margaret obliged, easily clinging tighter after quickly checking she’s still clipped on by the safety line.

Gable’s easy demeanor shifted into steel as they shot a look at them. “How about through the cliffs?”

“Dangerous,” Hildred says, then they smile, “I like it, until the bridge?”

Gable nods. “May the best rider win,” they say with a grin.

Margaret feels the tension build as Travis counts down, as he shouts “Go!” everything seems to release at once as Victory picks up speed ridiculously easily.

Margaret gasps and yelps, Hildred laughs before her holding onto the reins with a fierce grip. Suddenly she gets why they do this, the wind in their face, the fire in their lungs, Margaret feels so achingly alive.

They near rocky outcroppings and seem in no way even close to moving away.

“Hildred, my dear?” Margaret murmurs into her neck.

“You gotta trust me okay?” she calls gleefully back.

And if there is something Margaret is good at it’s that, she gently takes a breath and lets go of the fear and she melts into Hildred’s back, feeling the string between them pull tight like another safety line.

Gable is only slightly in the lead as they slow down and expertly maneuver through the cliffs, they seem to be almost one with Metatron as they look like they effortlessly dodge the rocks, the sun glinting and making them almost glow.

Victory doesn’t slow down, instead when they are about to hit the cliffs they take a sharp move upwards.

Margaret catches on what they are about to do as Victory keeps climbing, Hildred muttering quiet encouragement as they go higher and higher.

Suddenly they break cloud cover, they are oh so far away from the ground below them. Margaret stares out in amazement, taking in a few quiet seconds where there is only her partner's heavy breathing and the rigorous flapping of wings.

“Ready?” they ask gently.

Margaret can’t help but press a small kiss into their neck. “Let’s win this.” she says softly and she can feel how her warm breathing shoots into Hildred’s spine, she can almost see their wide grin.

“You heard her Victory!” she says and then they are falling.

Margaret has never felt like she does then, as her entire body feels like it’s turning, and for a moment she’s lifted into the air and weighs nothing. There is an exhilarating fear of hitting the ground, there is Hildred in front of her warm and laughing delightedly, she’s dizzy with it. They are free, in that moment of falling, all her life and thoughts disappear as the sensation of plummeting takes over, consuming them both. She can’t help her scream in a mix of fear and giddy excitement.

Just before they are about to plummet into the vast ocean Victory fans out his wings and they soar again. Margaret exhales a shaky breath and slightly loosens her grip.

The race isn’t over however and Hildred shows no signs of stopping her relentless pace as Gable and Travis have now fallen behind, still struggling through the rocks while they easily speed over the water.

There is always something so enjoyable about gliding so tantalizingly close to the sea, like they are taunting fate, Victory's wings occasionally beating away water which splashes around them.

They near the city and people raise their heads to look at them, Hildred is waving at them now, making what are clearly necessarily flashy moves. Gable is closing in on them and mirrors them. It’s like a dance between the two of them as they attempt to keep up speed and out-perform each other. Margaret is sure they are going to be the death of her.

Hildred wins of course, but only by a little as she goes under the bridge and then loops around to land gracefully on top of it. Gable follows quickly, Metatron landing heavy next to them.

There is a small crowd that stares in surprise as Hildred, 6 times champion, strides across the bridge to Gable who sheepishly dismounts their bird. Travis who sees where the tide is going quickly slithers off their shoulders as they open their mouth to start on a warm congratulations.

Gable doesn’t get much farther than “Cong-” before Hildred practically climbs them and pulls them into a searing kiss, the adrenaline of riding still in both their veins. Gable makes a noise at the back of their throat and automatically holds their partner up, lifting her effortlessly Hildreds legs locking around their waist, deepening the kiss further.

Travis moves to Margaret, who is leaning on Victory both catching her breath and taking in the lovely view.

She lowers her arm without prompting so her husband easily slithers over her arm to rest on her shoulders. “How long until Gable realises they are in public and becomes supremely embarrassed?” he says quietly into her ear.

Margaret sees as Gable parts for a second only for Hildred to say something she can’t make out that makes them go red all over again and kiss her neck, Margaret is sure the way Hildred giggles will be etched into her mind forever, like a melody she’s always known.

“I say a while.” she says amused, and Travis gives an annoyed hiss in return. She gently runs her finger over his head. “Now be a good boy and don’t whine William, we still have time before sundown.”

That shuts him up quick, he buries his head in her hair like he can blush and she laughs.

Gable does eventually catch onto the gawking crowd around them and awkwardly but gently lowers Hildred onto the ground. She’s grinning from ear to ear while Gable looks onto the people mortified and bright red.

“Gonna give the winner a kiss?” Hildred asks as she moves towards Maragret. Travis utters a small “Oh for the luminaries sake-” before making himself scarce again.

“I think you’ve had plenty.” Margaret says playfully, leaning forward.

“Hm well,” they say, easily putting her arms around Margarets waist, “I did pretty well, Margaret.”

“Greedy are we?” Margaret says, but leans forward the rest of the way, resolving for a quick kiss before they have to go back to get ready.

Their lips meet and Margaret's hands easily move up to Hildred’s hair undoing what was left of their pony tail, Hildred groans as Margaret pulls away as she gently nips at their bottom lip.

Quick didn’t have to mean chaste after all.

“Well I do believe we have places to get to.” She says easily, moving away from a now blushing Hildred Gastaur.

Victory next to them squawks, probably at the lack of attention and Hildred laughs at him, gently petting him and murmuring praise.

Gable is staring at them enraptured, a glint in their eye that says they definitely would like to derail their nicely planned evening for something else entirely, Margaret can’t say she isn’t tempted, but there is a very annoyed snake curled around their arm and reservations made.

It isn’t often that they get this, the four of them, with Margaret still traveling around, Hildred staying in Burza Nyth and Gable and Travis firmly sticking on the Uhuru. It’s alright of course, they have made their lives and making place for each other is part of the brilliance of relationships.

Margaret certainly could have never imagined it going like this when she had met Hildred in those few months she’d spent wandering around attempting to figure out what the revelations that Travis Matagot bore with him meant for her.

They had gotten mixed up in some corsair business and something with Hildreds past and only after the adventure, while they were having drinks they had mentioned Gable. And well there can only be so many 7 foot tall, flaming sword owning people named Gable.

Margaret believed that fate took her where she was supposed to go, there was very no doubt in her mind this hadn’t been a coincidence. Later Travis had found her again, just like she had promised he would. They fell into step with each other so easily as she cradled his head and whispered his name with the same desperation she had so many years ago.

in the end it was surprisingly easy how the four of them clicked into place together, seamlessly. They carved out a place in the world for themselves sometimes with gnarled teeth and claws and sometimes with kisses as gentle as clouds in the sky.

And in this space moments like this; the four of them together with no other responsibilities in the near future are to be treasured.

Sundown is now nipping at their heels as they all get on the birds again, to get ready for their date night, a soft excitement filling the air as Gable waves them goodbye as they head to the docked ship, while Margaret and Hildred head to their apartment.

-

Gable fiddles with the buttons on their shirt as they stare in the mirror. Travis saunters in already ready, of course, his hair pulled back with one of Margaret's ribbons, his purple coat pristine and glinting in the low light of the room.

Gable shoots him an annoyed look. “Who allowed buttons to be this small.” they say, as their hands yet again fumble over them.

Travis smirks, “Do you want me to them for you?” he says.

Gable can’t help but fluster a little, but they also roll their eyes, trying to formulate a coherent sentence to get back at him.

Travis just walks forwards and in practiced familiarity places a hand on their chest. “Let me.” he breathes and then he goes, doing the buttons one by one agonisingly slowly.

“You’ve been hanging around Margaret too much.” Gable whispers as he does the top one, their faces so close, he looks up at them through his eyelashes full of feigned innocence.

He looks handsome in the low light, his eyes betraying a gentle softness, if they didn’t have dinner Gable imagines they would kiss him senseless there and there.

“I like to think I spend an adequate amount of time with my wife, Gable.” He says, sounding as annoying as ever and still not moving away, his hands still on their shirt.

So Gable indulges him, leans forward in a gentle kiss, not quite swooping him off his feet. He parts away grinning like a cat who has just caught something, as if he’s being sneaky, as if Gable doesn’t want this too.

They shake their head and move away to sit down, turning their back to him. “I still have to braid my hair, so it will be a little while.”

Travis whines petulantly, he moves forward to them, pressing his forehead between their shoulder blades, his arm encircling them, Gable can’t help but lean into his touch.

“Can’t we just go,” he murmurs into their spine, “No one will care about the braids anyway.”

Gable’s hair has been growing out again, it goes all the way to their lower back now and it is at least an inconvenience to have it lose.

Travis presses a kiss to their neck, “We have reservations you know.” he says, somehow still petulant as he kisses them right beneath their ear. Gable can’t help but laugh, bright and airy. “Do you have any more ribbons lying around then?” they ask, “Can’t have it completely loose.”

He pulls away, his grin turning slightly mischievous and playful. “Oh I have plenty.”

-

Hildred steps out of the bedroom satisfied, she’s changed out of the grimy riders clothes of the day for a simple waistcoat and pants, her hair is tied back up and she runs her fingers through her freshly shaved undercut.

Margaret has changed into a dress for the evening, pale blue standing out against her brown skin. She turns and smiles softly at Hildred. “Will you lace me up, dear?” she says, vaguely gesturing to the back of her dress.

Hildred can feel their face become warm as they take a few steps forward, gently taking the lace in their hands and lacing it up as requested. They finish it all together with a small bow, not being able to help herself; she leans forward and kisses the back of Margaret’s head. “All done.” they murmur.

Margaret turns around and she looks brilliant, her smile feels almost intoxicating and Hildred’s breath catches.

“You look handsome.” Margaret says, as she takes their tie into her hands to straighten it.

Hildred makes a sound that might almost be a word and then leans in for a kiss.

Margaret smiles against their lips, then parting for a second, “Would be a shame to ruin your lovely handy work.” she breathes, and Hildred can feel their face getting more red as they realise their hands are just about to undo the ribbon they just made

“Right.” she says her voice pitched high, “places to be.”

Margaret grins in a way Hildred is sure she’s picked up from Travis. “We don’t want to be late.” she says.

-

So they all arrive at the restaurant Hildred has carefully picked. It’s low profile enough she won't be painfully uncomfortable as she usually is in fancy places, but it’s homey and she knows the owner so there is a booth slightly at the back of the place open for them.

They have their usual playful fighting over who gets to sit with who, which ends up with Hildred next to Gable with Travis and Margaret sitting in front of them.

Margaret suggests they pick a lot of things to share and she seems adorably excited about the prospect, so they all agree without much complaint.

Margaret loves evenings like this, the soft lights inside the restaurant, the sweet laughter of her partners. They are all laying it on a little thick, brushing their fingers whenever they pass each other the small plates, generally attempting to get the rest to blush harder than they are.

They deserve it, Margaret decides, to be sappy and a little annoying as they bicker just loudly enough for the other tables to overhear.

As the night progresses Margaret can feel the pleasant humm in the air circling around her. There is so much magic between the four of them now, such potent old bonds, such lovely new ones, it’s intoxicating.

Margaret wants to pluck their laughter out of the air and keep it for herself, she wants those small gentle touches burned into her skin, she wants the looks they shoot each other etched into her mind.

“You alright there, love?” Travis says bemused, she hadn’t even noticed she had ended up nuzzled into his neck.

Hildred and Gable give her slightly less annoying fond looks from across the table.

“Hildred is practically on Gable’s lap.” she protests, but she can herself begin to slur her words slightly.

Gable immediately turns pink, Hildred however takes the opportunity to fully climb into their lap and grin winningly. “Yeah,” she says, “So?”

More magic feels the air, it’s pleasant and sweet and playful, Margaret imagines she’s letting herself indulge into it too much, but rarely does she get access to such amounts of this when she isn’t saving it for a spell, so she lets herself.

Gable mutters something that Margaret is pretty sure is “you’re going to be the death of me.” and she agrees.

Travis sligns his arms around her shoulder, his eyes having a bit of that genuine care that makes Margaret go dizzy all over again. “We haven’t been drinking that much have we?” he jokes.

“ ‘S the magic.” she says, “there is a lot of it.”

And a lot of it is hers too, her own strings tangled up in all these others, pulling her from all directions.

He smirks again then, addressing the other two “Look at us being so in love we have gotten Margaret drunk.”

Hildred cackles. “I think this means we are winning.” they say.

Gable shakes their head. “You two are incorrigible.” but they are grinning too.

-

Later they are all laying in Hildred's bed, it’s a bit cramped, but it hardly matters as they all enjoy eachothers sleepy company, limbs intertwined, hands in eachothers hair. Margaret keeps thinking about the magic in the air and how it will almost be sad if she didn’t use it for something.

“I have an idea.” she says, breaking the comfortable silence between them, “although it might be a bit overwhelming.”

“Is that a challenge?” Travis says next to her, his eyes bright.

“It is decidedly not a challenge,” she says smiling, “and we won’t do it if anyone doesn’t want to.”

They all sit up slowly, Hildred easily fit between Gable and Travis as they all look at her expectantly.

“When I do magic, sometimes I help people by experiencing their emotions with them.” she starts. “And I could, in theory, tangle our strings up in ways so we could essentially feel each other's affection.” she ends it with an almost nervous smile, “If that makes sense?”

They all just stare for a bit and it’s Gable who speaks up first. “We would...feel all the love you mean,” they say, stammering only a little, “without having to say it.”

“Yes that is what I’m getting at.” she says.

“Thats-” they start, then, “you’re a wonder, Margaret.”

Travis has something of an unreadable look on his face, Hildred however looks openly excited. “I’m in!” she says.

“I can’t tie us all together at the same time,” she warns, “I think the effect would be too much.”

Travis nods slowly, a small smile playing on his lips “Sounds fun.”

-

She starts with Hildred, gently winding the strings around her, tweaking them softly letting the magic flow through herself and her partner both.

Gable and Travis are cuddled up at the side, watching her work with rapt attention.

Hildred loves when Margaret does magic, seeing her in her element her tongue sticking out just a little bit as her hand winds invisible cords around her wrists.

She can feel the magic too, thick and sweet in the air and in her veins, there is a moment when something clicks and she knows it’s Gable’s. She feels briefly like she’s flying, the adrenaline of competition, the thrill, the marvel that they are.

She can also feel the love, like it’s wound around her heart, it pulls her in, Gable’s love feels like freefalling and she lets out a small gasp.

“Still alright?” Margaret asks softly, her hands on their shoulders grounding them.

“Yeah” she breathes out, “Just give me a second.”

After a little bit she nods and Margaret works on the next one.

Travis’ is interesting, it feels sharp somehow, playful even, but tight, like he only knows how to hold onto something to his chest and never let go.

Hildred loves Travis, of course they do, she treasures his friendship dearly, but sometimes it’s hard to know how much he feels back, but now here she can feel it coiling around her. She makes eye contact with him and smiles, for a second he gives her a genuine smile back and she feels the echoes of it in her chest.

Margaret’s is by far the lightest, it’s not small, it’s not lesser it’s just light, like summer breeze like a gentle rain. Constant, mellowing out the whirlwind of the other two.

They don’t keep it up too long, it feels like a soft hazy eternity but it's only a few minutes before Margaret easily undoes the strings.

Hildred collapses a little into Margaret who holds her tenderly. “How was it?” she asks, bright and full of curiosity.

“Fucking brilliant.” she says grinning tiredly, “I’m exhausted now though.” Margaret laughs behind them.

“Yes go rest now,” she says, as she gently lays them on the pillows by the headboard

“Who wants to go next?”

-

To Gable Travis’ love is so achingly familiar, it has a weight to it, and odd sharp angles and promises tied into it.

Gable is used to it but there is something new by it being naked on their skin, buzzing electrically through them. It feels like burning and it feels alive. It has a finality to them, the way you can only love someone you promised to die beside.

Hildred’s make them think of battle, fast pace, full of adrenaline, maybe it makes them think of dancing, of swirling around and falling into step with each other; whatever it is it’s passionate and it makes their face go bright red and their heart hamer in their chest.

Margaret’s love is like a lighthouse in a storm, like the morning star, it shows them the way home, it’s bright, it’s an anchor.

-

Margaret ties hers around Travis first, with shaking fingers she gently ties it around his fingers. They’ve done this before, in many many ways and he smiles as she loops it around his ring finger just a little tighter.

It is overwhelming, Margaret’s love is the tide of a river, it’s the crashing waves, it's a summer rainstorm. It feels like he’s drowning in it, somehow it doesn’t upset him, but he does take her hand, feeling the current run through them both. Their love is powerful, her love for him, her love for life, has shaken the earth and makes the luminaries move to her will. He feels it in his bones, shaking him too.

If Margaret’s is rushing waters, Gable’s is fire. All consuming, as old as time, ever present growing so complete he’s afraid he’ll get swallowed by it. Yet the warmth doesn’t burn, it’s comforting, it’s home. He doesn’t turn to ash under Gable’s gaze but he does melt a little. He let’s the phantom flames ghost over his skin, holding him tight.

Hildred’s in contrast to both of them is new, vibrant, it’s skipping rocks on the river bank, it’s the teenage years he never got to have, it’s spring in full swing when such things still make sense.

-

Margaret lays in the middle of all her partners, exhausted, but content. Hildred is tucked under her chin, burrowing themself into her. Travis at her back, his face pressed into her neck. Gable envelops them all, they are next to Hildred but their arm is almost long enough to hold them all, keep them close.

She doesn’t need to do any tying, she just lets herself lose into the magic, feels her husband's everpresent promise I won't let go of your hand. Feels how Gable loves strong enough to doom the world over it and feels the passion that drives everything in Hildred, but solely focused on her.

She doesn’t quite feel like she’s in her body, lost in the stream, lost in their swirling mix of devotion. She could spend hours categorizing it, Gable loves like religion and Travis loves like he could lose it at any time and Hildred loves like it’s the last thing she’ll do.

Gable’s feels like the eye in a storm, and Travis’ like the universe wouldn’t be right without it, Hildred’s feels like rebelion

She could go on and on but eventually the warmth and sleep catches onto her, and there while she’s still marveling at the dazzling constellations that is their love she drops off into peaceful sleep.

[spine-buster]

Alone, Together | Chapter 35 | Morgan Rielly

A/N: I just...someone call the Pope.

“First class again?” Bee asked as she looked down at the boarding pass that had just printed out from the kiosk at Toronto’s Pearson International Airport.  She readjusted the Louis Vuitton tote bag on her shoulder – the same one that Lucy convinced her to buy all those months ago – and looked up at Morgan quickly.

“Did you expect anything less from me?” Morgan asked, looking down at her.  “I mean…really.”

Bee snorted as she took a closer look at the boarding pass in her hand, wondering if she got a window seat again or if she was in an aisle cubby.  As she looked at her seat number, a peculiar word caught her eye.  “Uh oh.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I think it printed out the wrong boarding pass for us.  We might have to go back up to that lady who took our luggage.”

“What do you mean?” Morgan said, his tone not phased at all by the apparent error.  Morgan flew all the time – this was probably a common error.  Did private team jets still print boarding passes?

“It says the destination is Kelowna instead of Vancouver,” Bee said.  

“That’s because the destination is Kelowna.”

For a moment, Bee couldn’t understand the words coming out of Morgan’s mouth.  She looked at him like he had three heads, trying to decipher the words.  “We…we’re going to Kelowna?” she asked.  He nodded.  “But…I thought we were going to Vancouver?”

“We are, silly.  I’m surprising you with a trip to the Okanagan Valley first, then we’re going to Vancouver,” Morgan was smirking at her.

“The Okanagan Valley?  You mean like B.C. wine country?”

“Precisely,” he leaned down to give her a quick kiss.  “Who would I be if I didn’t surprise you with something.  And don’t Morgan me.”

She sneered at him playfully.  “I wasn’t going to.”

“Sure.”

“But you do…I mean…” she began, wondering if she should even say the words.  “You do know we could be staying in a Motel 6 and I’d be happy.”

“Briony,” he said her name in a half-amused, half-warning tone.  He leaned down to kiss her again before continuing.  “What’d I say about this stuff.”

“I know, but--”

“We are going to have,” kiss, “a very good time,” kiss, “going on winery tours,” kiss, “and watching the sunset,” kiss, “over the Okanagan,” kiss, “and then we’re gonna take a roadtrip,” kiss, “to Vancouver,” kiss, “and watch the sunrise,” kiss, “over the Sunshine Coast,” kiss, “just like last time,” kiss.  

Bee couldn’t help but smile at his words.  She was also very conscious of the fact that he was kissing her multiple times in the middle of a busy airport.  She didn’t used to be that person, but Morgan brought it out of her.  She licked her lips and bit her bottom lip before looking up at him.  “You’re too good to me,” she mumbled.

“You get what you deserve, Bumblebee,” he winked.  “Now let’s go.”

***

When they touched down in Kelowna, they checked in at the Delta Grand Okanagan Resort on the waterfront and changed into workout gear.  Morgan wanted to take Bee hiking up the mountain to see the views, and she was more than ready to comply, despite the fact that she knew she was out of shape and would probably have to stop several times along the way up the mountain.  She knew the views would be worth it, and if she was a sucker for anything, it was views from mountaintops.  Considering she had never been to Kelowna, she thought it the perfect introduction.  

They began their hike at the base of Knox Mountain Park, following the trail diligently and making sure to stay on the designated path.  There were a lot of hikers out and about due to the beautiful day outside, so there were many quick greetings and many dog pets as they made their way up.  About half way up the hike, they happened upon a group of middle-aged people – Bee would say they were probably around Rocco and Clarette’s age – with four golden retrievers between them.  Morgan was in absolute heaven.  Everybody stopped so the dogs could be pet, and one of the men eventually recognized Morgan, so everyone posed for a group photo.  Bee was pulled into it for some reason.  The man’s wife was so excited that she pulled Bee in.  It was all very nice, but unnecessary for her to be there.  She could have at least taken the photo.  

When they got to the top of the mountain about twenty minutes later, Bee gasped.  There, before her eyes, was Okanagan Lake and the city of Kelowna spread out across the landscape.  Though she was out of breath, probably red, and definitely sweating, she couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed at the sight before her.  The vast expanse before her was almost too much to handle; too beautiful to forget.  She focused hard, and long, creating a mental image in her head of the view so that she’d never forget it.  She didn’t want this memory to disappear.

It was only when she felt Morgan’s arm wrap around her waist that her trance sort of ended – even then, she couldn’t look at him, too transfixed on finding every little detail to remember.  The colour of the trees.  The sparkle of the water.  The deep blue of the sky.  “It’s beautiful, eh?” he asked softly.  

“Like…it’s not fair,” she said, causing Morgan to giggle slightly.  “I know I said this on the boat that morning in January but you’re so lucky that you got to grow up here.  Like, incredibly lucky.”

“I know, Bumblebee.  That’s why I want to bring you here all the time,” he admitted.  “I want you to love it as much as I do.”

She couldn’t help but smile as she finally looked up at him.  “I already do.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.  Just by virtue of the fact that you grew up here.  Never mind the views and the scenery and the people – they’re extra.  I love it because you love it.  Because it’s your home.”

Morgan leaned down to kiss her, not caring about how many people were around possibly watching.  Sometimes, Bee had the simplest reasons for things, and for a guy who got stuck in his head too much and came up with overly complicated explanations for things some of the time, it was that simplicity that he needed.  I love it because it’s your home.  It was the simplest sentiment but one that brought out the best in Bee.  She didn’t need anything besides the ground beneath her feet and her favourite people by her side.  Everything else was extra.  “I love you, you know that?” he whispered against her lips.

“You do?”

He pinched her butt playfully.  “Smart ass.”

“Yeah, but you love my ass.”

“You’re lucky I do.”

***

So you’re finally working out.  About fucking time, fat ass.  

Surprised you’re not off fucking Fred or Tyler for your 15 minutes of fame.  But then again, who’d want to fuck someone as desperate as you?

Making Morgan spend money on you again…typical.  Bleeding him dry.  If you were smart you’d be with Auston bc he has way more money.

All the Toronto girls are talking about you behind your back.  I hope you know that.  You’re still the biggest social climber ever.  You think you’re hot shit but you’re not.  And just because your new BFF is Aryne, it doesn’t mean a thing.  Everybody can see right through you.  When Aryne and Morgan dump you, it’s over for you.  You’re already so irrelevant.

Why do u think u can wear tights like that omg u look like a complete whale!

Go drown urself in that lake bitch

“Is everything okay?” Morgan asked as he crawled into bed beside Bee, snuggling up to her automatically as she lay in bed with a lace camisole pyjama set.  Bee had sent Angie a quick text to see how Bruce was doing, and Angie was supposed to have sent a video of Bruce back to them.  She and Mason were cat and house sitting the apartment while they were away.  

“It’s fine,” she sighed.  “Just reading the latest messages from my fan club.”

“Fan club?” Morgan asked.  When she gave him her phone and he saw the familiar layout of Instagram, he knew immediately what she was talking about and furrowed his brows.  

Ur soooooooo desperate for attention

U look like a cheap hooker…like not even an escort.  Ur so trash!!!!!

You should learn a thing or two from Lucy and her yoga business.  AKA stop leeching off your boyfriend!!!!!  You think you’re better than everyone else when you’re not.  SAD!

Morgan is stupid to be with you.  I don’t understand what he sees in trash like you.

“Bumblebee…you don’t…I can’t…” he couldn’t find the right words to say as he shook his head.  “I’ve gotta talk to Steve again…”

“He’s not coming back from Europe for you, Morgan.”

“Briony, you shouldn’t have to be dealing with this,” he said sternly, unable to joke about this like she was.  “I know how much this affects you, baby.  And it’s not fair.  It’s not fair that they can say whatever they want to you and you have to refrain from saying anything back.  That you can’t…that you…” he trailed off.

“That I what?” she asked.  She was practically able to see the gears shifting in his head.  

“You can’t say anything about it…but what if I did?”

“NO,” she half-screamed, grabbing her phone out of his hand quickly before his thoughts got the best of him.  She sat up in the bed and he followed her, sitting up too.  “Morgan Frederick Rielly, NO.  Don’t you dare.  Don’t you – that would make it worse, Morgan.  That’s the stupidest idea you’ve ever come up with.  Could you imagine the media coverage on that?  Kyle would blow a gasket, let alone Steve.  Shanny might have a stroke.”

“But I want to keep you safe, Bumblebee.  I need to keep you safe,” he tried to reason with her.  

“Not at the expense of your good reputation with the team and in Toronto and definitely not at the expense of your career,” she said sternly.  “Morgan Frederick Rielly, don’t you even think about it.”

“But Briony--”

“Don’t.”

“I don’t understand how you can handle all this.  It’s all my fault,” he said.  

“It is most definitely not your fault.”

“I feel guilty every day, every fucking time I have to read one of those fucking messages or see you torn up about it.  Canada Day wrecked me.  To see you like that…Briony, I can’t.  How can you be so…how can you handle it?  How aren’t you scared ab--”

“Shhhhh…” she said quietly, bringing her finger up to his lips to quiet him.  “Because my love for you is greater than my fear of that.”

Morgan took a moment to internalize her words.  His chest was heaving slightly, he was a bit agitated, and his mind was set on doing something about it himself if he had to, but all he had to hear was her voice, her smooth, calming voice, and all those feelings washed away.  “You…”

“My love for you is greater than my fear of that, or them, or anything they say to me,” she repeated, cradling his face in her hands as she kissed him.  “You need to start realizing that.  They can say whatever they want, and sometimes it might hurt me, and I might cry about it a little bit, but I’m stronger than that and I’ve been through way worse.”

Morgan sighed heavily.  “Bumblebee…”

“Shhhhh…” she shushed him again, her finger on his lips being replaced by her own lips.  “They’re all jealous.  That’s all it is.  Jealously.  Jealous that you’re mine and jealous that we’re building a life together.  Jealous that I get this giant hunk of man all to myself,” she whispered, kissing him again.  “Now…if you don’t mind, I’d like to show this giant hunk of man how grateful I am for him and everything he does.”

“B-Bumblebee…” he mumbled out before she kissed him again.

“Quiet, Mr. Rielly.”

Morgan did as he was told.  He began kissing her back, softly at first, then with a fervour he reserved only for her, that only she could bring out of him.  And when she began kissing along his jawline, climbing on top of his body simultaneously and rubbing her core on his thigh, all his thoughts dissipated completely, replaced with a hunger that he felt only for her.  He was insatiable for her.  He could never get enough of her.  He wanted her always, all the time, constantly, incessantly, persistently.  His body ached for hers.  It was crazy, he thought, how well they fit together.  How their bodies responded to one another instinctually.  He wouldn’t be able to find this with anyone else – couldn’t find this with anybody else.

Her took off her lace camisole easily.  With her breasts now exposed he took the opportunity to lean forward and take a nipple in her mouth, sucking and teasing and biting down gently.  She threw her head back, her long hair cascading down her back, and cradled his head in her hands before tugging on the tufts of his hair gently.  She took his shirt off easily.  Over it went, across the room, and she moved down his body to slip his boxers off slowly.

“Briony…” he managed to mumble out as she stayed there, grabbing his already hard cock in her hands.

“Shhhh,” she shushed him for the umpteenth time that night.  She began stroking it and watched as he gulped.  “I got you, baby.”

“I d…I don’t want to cum in your mouth,” he mumbled.  “Don’t – when I say--”

“Mmkay,” she said quickly, licking the tip of his cock.  “Just say the words,” she said in an almost playful tone before dipping down and taking him in her mouth.

He gathered some of her hair in his hand to get it out of her face; he didn’t want his view to be obstructed as she bobbed up and down, his cock disappearing inside her mouth further and further until he felt the head of his cock touch the back of her throat.  He closed his eyes momentarily, relishing in the feeling.  “Fuck, baby,” he sighed out.  

Bee let out a mischievous giggle, her fingernails digging lightly into his thigh.  “You like that, don’t you?” she asked as she scratched down slowly.  Morgan nodded his head desperately.  “You love it when I suck your cock.”

“Y-Yes,” he stuttered out.  “Fuuuck Briony, I love it when my cock is down your throat.”  He felt her dip down again, her tongue swirling around the tip, licking the pre-cum greedily.  “You better start touching yourself,” he told her.  

He watched as she slipped a hand down her body and underneath her shorts, wiggling out of them with ease.  By now, he was rock hard, and when Bee looked up at him with her big green eyes before she took him in her mouth all the way, hitting the back of her throat again, his hips buckled and he let out a loud groan.  She gagged slightly, his movements shoving his cock deeper into her throat, but when he looked at her again, she was already looking at him, a slight smile in her eyes that drove him fucking crazy.  “Briony…p-p-please--”

She ignored him, looking away and focusing on her movements instead, and the feeling of his hand tugging at her hair slightly so he could get a better look at her.  His grunts and movements gave her the confidence to keep going, to take risks and be as daring as she could.  It wasn’t long, though, before Morgan’s breath became heavier, his chest rising and falling with every gasp her took.  “B-Briony…”

She moaned on his cock in response, taking him to the back of her throat one more time before her mouth left his cock with a large pop.  “I want more of your cock, baby.  Just cu--”

“N-No,” he stuttered out.

“Babyyyyy,” she mewled, kissing the tip.

“No.  I want…I…get up here,” he huffed out.  

“Ba--” she tried again, but Morgan wasn’t having any of it.  His hand left her hair as he leaned forward, pulling her up and flipping her onto her back on the bed, his large body immediately over hers as he grabbed at her thighs and wrapped her legs around him.  He didn’t wait – there was no time to wait – and entered her quickly, the feeling of her warm walls around his cock causing him to moan out again.  

“Holy fuck Mo,” she gasped out, her legs wrapped tightly around his torso so he stayed buried deep inside of her, not allowing him to move just yet.  “Fuck baby.”

“Who gets too fill you up, Briony?”

“You, baby.”

“Who?”

“You, Mr. Rielly.  Only you get to fill me up,” she pulled his head down to kiss him passionately, lips and tongues everywhere.  

Morgan bit down on her bottom lip, dragging it away with him as he straightened out his back and unwrapped her legs from his body.  He brought them both together, keeping them over his shoulder as he looked down at her, her body flush with desire.  “You okay?” he asked.  She nodded her head quickly.  “You want my cock buried deep inside of you?”

“Yes Mr. Rielly,” she nodded her head.  

He began moving, slowly at first, her breasts bouncing along every time he thrust into her.  He would watch her breasts bouncing like that all night if he could.  He progressively kept getting rougher and rougher until he was pounding into her, her moans and cries fuel for him to give her more. “You like it when I fuck you like this?”

“Y-Yes,” it was her turn to stutter out.  “You feel so fucking good, baby.”

He could feel the heat inside of him growing.  He grabbed at her legs that were over his shoulder and pushed them forward, into her body, changing the angle so he could go even deeper.  She let out a string of expletives at the new feeling, her cries out music to his ears.  “S’deep babe,” she could barely get the words out.

“You like that?”

“Yes Mr. Rielly.  Yes.  I love it when you fuck my pussy hard like that.”

“Are you gonna make that pretty pussy cum for me, Briony?”

She could only nod her head as he continued to pound into her, fast and rough and wild, until he felt her walls clench around him and heard her scream out his name over and over again.  At the sound of his name escaping her lips so desperately and full of want, he exploded inside of her, leaning further into her so the angle was just right.  Bee huffed, trying to catch her breath.  

“Stay right there,” Morgan mumbled quickly.

“W…What?” she asked not understanding why he’d say such a thing.  Where the fuck was she going to go?

It didn’t take long for her to find out.  Two of his fingers slipped into her pussy quickly, causing her to gasp out, and they began moving quickly in and out of her, not allowing her to catch her breath or settle down from her first orgasm.  “Mo...” she gasped out, but instead of answering her he licked his way down her body.  He was being gentle but rough with his fingers, and she squirmed as she was pinned beneath him.  “Mo Mo Mo Mo Mo…” she kept repeating his name as he finally attached his mouth to her clit, lapping and sucking like he was drinking a thick milkshake.  “Mo, fuck, please.”

“All mine,” he mumbled against her pussy.  “All fucking mine.”

“All yours Mr. Rielly.  All yours,” she breathed out, grabbing hold of his hair.  Her body gyrated at the sensation and it was too much; in no time, she was cumming again, the sound of her wetness and Morgan’s fingers still moving in and out of her just amplifying it all.  He lapped up every last bit before moving back up, squishing her beneath his body as he kissed her.  

“I love you Briony,” he mumbled against her lips.  

She could taste her juices on his lips as she continued to kiss him.  “I love you too baby.  So much.”

***

“Wow, Ms. McTavish, you’re a natural!” Chef Michael smiled as Bee began basting the chicken breast cooking in the pan.  The chef looked over to Morgan, who had given up a long time ago and chose instead to just watch – Bee had no problem cooking his chicken breast too.  “You’re a lucky guy, eh?”

“The luckiest,” Morgan smiled as he watched Bee concentrating on the basting. 

“Does she cook a lot at home?”

Morgan nodded his head.  “My specialty is grilled cheese and breakfast for dinner.  She does everything else.”

Chef Michael focused his attention back to Bee.  “Alright Ms. McTavish, we need to let it simmer now.  Let’s focus on those broccolini sautéing with the garlic.  Think we should add more?”

“You can never have too much garlic.”

Chef Michael looked over at Morgan again.  “My kinda girl!”

“I learned some of my cooking skills from an Italian,” Bee continued, stirring up the broccolini.  “If a recipe called for two garlic cloves he’d put five.”

“Who are your friends?  Your family?  I need to meet these people!” Chef Michael exclaimed, so enthusiastic about everything.  “Let’s mince some more garlic in there.”

When all was said and done, Bee had perfectly prepared two plates of creamy chicken in a white wine sauce, roasted Japanese sweet potatoes, and sautéed garlic broccolini.  It smelled heavenly, and Morgan could tell she was so proud of herself as she fixed her plate with the last of the brocollini, Chef Michael instructing her on how to present everything beautifully.  When she finished, he presented them with a bottle of white wine from the winery to have with their meal, uncorking it and pouring it for them.  

“You two can bring your dinners out onto the patio with you.  Ray will come to clean up the pans and dishes while you eat,” he said.

Morgan nodded but Bee furrowed her brows.  “Oh, there’s no need for someone to clean up.  We can just do that after.”

Chef Michael paused his movements momentarily.  “No no Ms. McTavish, it’s fine.  Ray will be in any second with the busser to take everything away.”

“I insist--”

“No ma’am, it’s fine,” Chef Michael stressed.  “It’s part of the service.  You can just enjoy your meal on the patio.  You worked hard on it.”

“Bumblebee,” Morgan said gently.  “It’s alright.  We can go.”

She looked between Morgan and Chef Michael hesitantly before giving in.  “Okay.  Um, thank you,” she said, more awkwardly than she would have liked.  “Are you positive?  Because I can just wash everything after dinner.  It’s no big deal.”

Chef Michael let out a laugh.  “Go enjoy your meal Ms. McTavish.  And have a good night.”

Bee followed Morgan out onto the patio with her plate and wine glass, his own already on the table.  She looked back into the room as Morgan closed the sliding door, watching as Chef Michael gathered all the dirty cutlery and utensils and put them all in the sink.  She looked to Morgan, who had pulled out her chair for her.  “Does that usually happen?” she asked.

“Does what usually happen?”

“People cleaning up after you in these fancy shmancy places,” she clarified, setting her plate and wine down on the table.

“If you request for butler service, yes.  But we didn’t get that,” Morgan said, knowing that would be her next question; that she would give him one of her looks if he did.  “I think it’s just a part of the service they offer with the chef.  I think they figure you’d want to eat right after instead of clean up.”

“It’s a bit…I mean, I can clean up after myself.”

“Not everybody is responsible and sensible like you,” he leaned his head down to kiss her quickly.  “Now, let’s eat, shall we?  I want to have a romantic dinner with my girlfriend.”

Romantic it was.  Morgan couldn’t keep his eyes off of her.  The scenery spread out before them was beautiful – just like everything else was in British Columbia – but he could only transfix his eyes on her, watching her as she ate and listening to anything she began talking about – how it was supposed to get cool that night, how Angie had sent her a new video of Bruce with the zoomies, how Mark had texted her that they had made record profits the past month for a particular client of theirs.  If her voice were the only thing he heard for the rest of his life, he’d still die a happy man.  

When they finished their meal, Bee stacked their plates on top of one another.  She brought them into the villa, setting them in the sink before popping her head out the sliding door.  “Is there a way you can call so they can come get these plates and not bother us for the rest of the night?” she asked.  “I don’t want anyone coming back in.  I just want to watch the sunset with you.”

“Yeah, of course,” Morgan nodded his head, getting up from his seat.  “I’ll call.”

“Good.  I’m going to the washroom,” she said, disappearing into the bedroom.  

After some time, Ray was back to collect their plates and ask if they wanted anything else taken care of the night.  Morgan declined, thanking him, and let him go for the night, making sure to lock the door behind him as Ray left.  He found it a bit peculiar that Bee was still in the washroom.  He hoped the food didn’t get to her; there’d be some strongly worded complaints if it did.  

“Bumblebee?  You alright in there?” he called out.  He glanced at the screen door quickly to see the sunset in full bloom.  

“I’m okay,” she said.  “Is Ray gone?”

“Ray’s gone,” Morgan confirmed.  “You feeling okay, Bumblebee?”

“I’m feeling fine,” she responded, but he could tell her voice was a little off.  “Can you…um…can you make sure the door is locked?”

“Already is.”

“Okay.  Can you come into the bedroom?”

Morgan furrowed his brows.  “Of course,” he said.  “Are you sure you’re okay, Bumblebee?”

“I’m fine,” she confirmed, still calling out from the closed washroom.  “Just…you know…get comfy.  Change into your pyjamas.  I’ll be out soon and we’ll go out and watch the sunset.”

Morgan did as she said, stripping himself down and changing into his pyjama bottoms.  He sat in the chair, folding the jeans he had been wearing, before the light in the bedroom mysteriously turned off.  He looked up, only the light from the sunset peeking through the window.  “Bumblebee?” he saw her stand outside the doorway to the washroom.

“Hey.”

“What’re you doing?”

“Good thing you’re already sitting in the chair.  Topless, even,” there was a slight laugh in her voice, not answering his question.  She turned on the lamp, illuminating the room romantically.  He noticed she was wearing a robe.  She never wore a robe at home.  

“What’s this?” he asked, his eyes wide as he noticed it was a silk robe, lace trim dangling from the ends of sleeves.

Bee smiled shyly.  “Just a little something.”

“Just a little something, huh?” Morgan gave her an up-down, throwing his jeans onto the floor beside him.

“Mhm,” she nodded her head, playing with the tassels that tied the robe together.  “You know…I bet all that cooking must have taken a lot out of you,” she winked.

Morgan couldn’t help but giggle slightly.  “Oh, it did.  I am spent.”

“Well then.  Just sit back and let me give you a show,” she smiled devilishly.

“A show?” Morgan asked.  Bee nodded her head slightly.  “You…you planned something?”

“Is that okay?”

Morgan couldn’t help but let out a light laugh.  His body already felt on fire.  She had planned something – with that robe on, and whatever else was underneath it – and was asking if it was okay?  “Of course baby,” he said softly.  “Let me see.  Let me see what you’ve planned.”

Standing far away from him, she bent over and leaned forward, placing a quick kiss on his lips.  “I trust you.”

“And I trust you.  And I love you.”

“Good to know.  Because by the end of this I have every intention of you fucking me like you don’t.”

Morgan’s pupils dilated.  He gulped nervously.  He watched as Bee straightened herself out and took a few steps back, playing again with the tassels on the robe before she started to sway her hips slowly back and forth.  She worked on untying the tassels slowly, achingly so, and Morgan could feel himself getting hard with each passing hip sway.  Eventually, she pulled, untying the bow and letting it fall, the robe becoming looser.  A hint of pink lace peeked its way out of the robe.

“Briony…” Morgan barely made out her name.

“Yeah baby?” she asked in an innocent voice, her fingertips gliding along the edge of the fabric near her chest.

“What…what did you--”

“Shhhh baby,” she cooed, approaching him slowly, seductively.  “What did I tell you?”

“But baby--” he tried reaching out to grab the fabric of the robe.

She smacked his hand away quickly.  He looked at her in the eye, shocked.  “Don’t touch me,” she ordered.  “Don’t touch me unless I tell you.  Just watch.”

She saw his chest rise and fall dramatically.  “Briony--” he tried to grab at her again.  

“Don’t.  Touch.  Me,” she stressed, smacking his hand away once more.  “Unless you want me to stop.  Then you’ll have to take care of that,” she eyed down to the growing bulge in his pants, “all alone.”

There was a fire in her eyes and Morgan knew she meant it.  This was completely new – he was completely blind-sided – but he wasn’t exactly complaining.  He loved seeing this sort of confidence from Bee.  He thought it partly cute, partly evil that she had planned this – masterminded it from the beginning.  He nodded his head, agreeing with her.  He couldn’t formulate a word.  There was no point.

She took a couple of small steps back – far enough so Morgan couldn’t reach out, and far enough so he could get a full body view – and started to pull the robe down her shoulders slowly, letting it fall to the floor dramatically revealing, inch by inch, the blush pink floral lace bralette and garter set, complete with a matching pair of pantyhose.  

“Oh my fucking God,” Morgan mumbled in disbelief.

A smile adorned Bee’s face.  “Do you like, Mr. Rielly?”

Morgan nodded, beginning to feel an uncomfortable strain in his pants.  “Yes,” he nodded his head almost desperately.  “Yes.  Yes.  I love it,” he was a gibbering mess.  

“D’you like the colour?”

“Yes.”

“And the lace?”

“Yes.”

“What about the garter?  And the pantyhose?”

“I love it all,” the desperation was evident in his voice.  “I love it all.  Every fucking piece of it.”

“Good,” she bit her bottom lip, running her fingers along the lace of the thong that hung on her hips.  She took a step towards him.  “So if I came closer…” another step, “and closer,” another step, “and closer,” one final step, “you’d be able to keep your hands to yourself?”

Morgan huffed out a breath.  “I don’t…”

“If I put my hand on your chest…” she moved to do exactly that, walking to his side.  His head followed her as far as it could until she was behind him.  “If my breath grazed the back of your neck…” she moved, again, to do exactly that as she stood behind him, her hand still on his chest as she gave the skin on his neck a quick kiss.  She took a few steps so she was standing in front of him again, turning away so her back was towards him, her ass in full view.  “If I sat in your lap, would you be able to keep your hands to yourself?”

She didn’t give him the chance to answer.  She lowered herself onto his lap, swaying her hips back and forth for good measure.  She heard Morgan grunt as she did so, absolutely fucking loving that she was getting such a reaction out of him.  She felt powerful.  Sexy.  Sensual.  She could feel the erection already in his pants and it made her the most confident she’d ever been.

“Fucking hell, Briony,” Morgan whispered.  Like clockwork, it didn’t take long for her to feel his hand on her ass, even if it was just a quick caress.  

She rose up quickly and slapped his hand away for a third time.  He whined out in protest as she walked away from him, flipping her hair over her shoulder to look at him.  “No.  Touching.”

“But Briony--”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“NO!  No no no,” he shook his head.  “Please God no.”

“No more touching.  Do you understand me?” she said, her voice seductive but stern.  “No.  More.  Touching.”

“I won’t.  I won’t.”

“Promise me,” she demanded.

“I promise.  I promise you,” he was desperate, so desperate.  “I swear to you, I won’t touch you.  Fuck Briony, fuuuuck, I w…I won’t touch you.  Not unless you tell me.  Just get back here.”

“Not until you beg.”

Morgan whined out again.  “Briony.  Briony please.”

“Beg.”

Morgan could swear there were tears forming in his eyes.  “Please Briony, I promise.  I’m begging you.  Come back here so I can look at you.  Please.  Please.”

Briony smiled, biting down on her bottom lip again.  “If you touch me without my permission again it’s over.  Keep your hands to yourself.”

Morgan nodded his head.  “I will.  I’ll keep my hands to myself, I promise.  Now please.  Please come back here.”

Bee sauntered over to him, bending over so her breasts, covered by the delicate lace, were right in his face.  She leaned forward so the material gently grazed against his nose and lips.  “Lace is your favourite, isn’t it?” she asked, already knowing the answer.  Morgan nodded his head.  “You always go crazy for me in lace.”

“You look perfect in it,” his voice was low.  “You make it look perfect.  Every time.”

She straightened out briefly so she could turn around again, her ass facing him as she sat down on his lap.  “You love spanking me too, don’t you.”

She heard his sharp intake of breath.  “Y-Yes,” he stuttered out.

She looked over to see his hands gripping the armrests of the chair, his knuckles almost completely white.  Excellent.  “Especially when I’ve been a good girl?”

“I…y…yes,” he huffed out, stuttering again.  She watched as his hands shook through the grip he had on the armrests.

“Am I being a good girl right now?” she asked, grinding down against him gently.  

“I’d reckon you’re being a bad girl right now.”

Bee let out a giggle, looking at him over her shoulder.  “Is that so?”

“You’re being a very bad girl teasing me like this,” he reasoned.

“Whoops,” she rolled her eyes playfully at his answer.  “Sorry not sorry.”

“Briony, please.”

“Please what?”

“I need to touch you,” he begged.

“I don’t think you’ve earned that yet.”

“Wh – I – please,” he continued to beg.  “You don’t understand, Briony.”

“Not yet,” she shook her head.  She stood up again to face him, placing her hands on his chest.  His eyes were pleading with her, but she didn’t budge.  “What do you think of the garter and pantyhose?” she asked again, just to torture him.

“I love it.  I love it all,” he said.  “It looks so, so sexy.  It’s driving me fucking crazy.”

Her hands made their way down his chest and over his bulge, settling on his knees as she shifted her weight from one leg to another again and again before flipping her hair in front of him dramatically.  She promised him she’d give him a show, so she was going to give him a show.  She incorporated her movements into pulling his pants off of him, revealing how rock hard he was.  After scratching her nails up and down his thighs, she settled them on his knees once more before spreading his legs open dramatically.  Morgan looked at her wide-eyed before she squatted down between his legs, her hips swaying from side to side.

“Jesus fucking Christ Briony,” his voice was frantic as she spun around on her tiptoes, still squatted, before swaying her hips back up into his face.  “Briony.”

“You like that?” she ignored his pleading tone, knowing all he wanted was to touch her.

“Yes.  Please Briony, can I t--”

“What about when I do this,” she said, spinning around to face him before climbing on to his lap.  She flipped her hair in his face again, and began to grind down.  His hands left the armrest dramatically, ready to grab her, but with every ounce of will he had left in – which wasn’t much – he balled his hands into fists and kept them away from her.  She shoved her chest into his face, her hands on his shoulders and nails digging into his skin.

“Briony – you fucking – you don’t – you can’t--” he muttered out.

“You want to fuck me with this on, don’t you?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“You don’t want me to take it off?”

“No.  Keep it on.  Keep it all on.  I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to fucking walk tomorrow,” he told her as she grinded down on him again, his cock rubbing up against the fabric of her thong.

She smiled.  “That’s what I like to hear, Mr. Rielly.”

“Can I touch you?  Please?”

“No.”

“Briiiiiiony.”

“Not.  Yet,” she said, arching her back.  “Tell me something Morgan,” she began.  He gave her cut eye.  Her right hand slipped down between their bodies to her hot core.  “Do you like it when I touch myself?”

Morgan huffed.  “I like it when I touch you better.”

“Why?”

“Because I know how to make you feel good,” he said.  “Because I like making you feel good.”

“And when you get to touch me, what are you going to do to me?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

She smiled.  She grabbed his cock without warning and began to stroke it teasingly.  She felt his hips buckle at her touch and knew she had teased and agonized him long enough.  She grinded down on his lap one last time, for good measure, feeling just how hard his cock was.  “Morgan?” she whispered in his ear.

“Yes Briony?”

“Make me be your good girl.  Fuck me so hard I won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

Morgan was like a man possessed.  In what felt like less than a second he grabbed her, picked her up, and threw her on the bed.  He climbed onto the bed after her and flipped her over so she was flat onto her stomach, her legs spread apart for him but her ass slightly raised.  She arched her neck to look behind her and saw him hovering over her.  “You think you can play games like that with me and get away with it?” he asked her, his voice low and coarse and his hands went to the small of her back, pressing down so she stayed laying flat on the bed.

“You liked it, didn’t you Mr. Rielly?” she asked, her voice playfully innocent in tone.  “You kept telling me how much you liked it.  You begged to keep me close.”

He leaned forward so he could whisper in her ear.  “Now I’m gonna make you beg,” he said, watching as her lips curved into a smile.  

“Like your good girl?”

“Like my good girl,” he nodded his head.  “I want to hear you scream my name.”

“Yes Mr. Rielly.”

“You can’t cum until I say so.  Understood?”

“Yes Mr. Rielly,” she nodded her head, feeling his body loom over hers.  He was still holding her down so she could barely move.  “Mr. Rielly, if I be a good girl will you spank me?”

Morgan laughed mischievously.  “We’ll see about that.  Maybe if you ask nicely,” he said.  

Without warning, he entered her hard and quick, unable to wait any longer.  Bee cried out automatically at the feeling – everything from the speed, to the size of his cock, to his holding her down, to the angle that he entered her, made him go so deep that she swore she could already see stars.  He didn’t start slow either; he was desperate and needy and didn’t have time for any of that, so he rocked into her hard and fast.  She screamed out in pleasure over and over again, savouring the feeling.  He was being a bit rougher with her than normal, but she loved every second of it.  She wanted it.  She had asked for it, and he had complied.  He was doing exactly what she wanted him to do, and they had the trust in each other to do this.

The way he was holding her lower back down, keeping her in place, meant the angle was deep – and with the force he kept pounding into her with, she knew she wouldn’t be able to last long.  But just as he complied – as best he could, he did slip up twice – to her rule of ‘no touching’, she knew she would have to comply to his rules now too.   “Mr. Rielly,” she said between her screams and moans, “Mr. Rielly it’s so deep.”

“You like it when it’s deep like that, huh?” he asked.

“Your cock is so big and it always goes so deep,” she said, knowing it would stroke his ego.  “Can you spank me, please?”

She heard Morgan huff out a laugh, barely missing a beat as he continued to fuck her.  “No.”

“But Mr. Rielly--”

“No.”

“Please Mr. Rielly, I want to be spanked so bad.”

“I don’t think you’ve earned that yet,” he threw her own words back at her.  She almost regretted the decision to use that language when she was teasing him – almost.  But there was no way she could ever regret anything that brought her so much pleasure.  “You have to beg, remember?”

Morgan could hear her whimper.  “Pleeeease Mr. Rielly.  Please spank me.”

She felt one of his hands leave the grip he had on her lower back and she prepared herself.  Instead, she felt him grab her hair and tug her towards him, so her back was flush against his chest momentarily.  His hand snaked around and went to her clit, and he bit down on the skin of her neck before moving up to her ear.  “Beg.”

“Please Mr. Rielly,” she was practically on the verge of tears.  “Please please please, I’m begging you to spank me.”

“If I spank you are you gonna cum?”

“No,” she answered automatically, shaking her head slightly.  “Not until you tell me to.”

He smiled, a throaty laugh escaping him.  “That’s right.  That’s my good girl,” he cooed, pushing her back down so she was flush against the bed again.  With one hand on her lower back holding her down, the other hand spanked her ass.  She let out a cry of pleasure, and with another spank, another cry.

“Harder,” she mewled out

“Harder?”

“Fuck me harder, Mr. Rielly.  Spank me harder.”

Her spanked her again, red marks already appearing on her ass from before.  He rubbed the area gently before spanking it one more time.  “You want to cum, don’t you?”

“Yes,” she said quickly, not bothering to hide how close she was.  “I want to cum so bad.”

“If I spank you again will you cum?” he asked.  Bee nodded her head.  “Then no.”

“No, please,” Bee cried out.  “I can’t – I won’t--”

“Are you going to take more like a good girl?” he practically growled out, holding her down again with both hands now.  

Bee didn’t answer automatically this time.  She was trying to regain composure, trying to regain whatever semblance of sanity she had left in her body.  “Y-Yes…” she whispered, barely audible.

“Are you going to take more like a good girl?” Morgan asked, louder to insinuate how loud he wanted her to be.

“Yes,” she said aloud.

“Like my good girl?”

“Yes!” she screamed out.  “Like your good girl.  Always your good girl, Mr. Rielly.”

Morgan continued pounding into her for a while, even harder than before.  Bee’s cries became louder, as did the sound of cock throbbing in and out of her hot core.  With the prelude leading up to this, the dirty talk, the sound of Bee’s moans and cries, and the fact that he probably could have cum while sitting in that God forsaken chair if Bee had grinded down on him just one more time, he was surprised to have lasted this long anyway.  He could feel his body getting flushed and hot and knew he was close.

“Are you ready for my cum, Briony?” he asked.

“Yes, Mr. Rielly,” her voice was coarse from all the noise she was making.  “I’m always ready for your cum.  Always.”

He spanked her again a few more times for good measure, getting some more desperate cries out of her, before tugging her hair one last time to bring her back against his chest.  “You’ve been such a good girl,” he cooed as he gave her a sloppy kiss.

“I love it when it’s like this,” she managed to get out through hooded eyes and desperate whispers.  “I love it when I’m your good girl.  When you take me from behind.  When you fuck me like I’ve never been fucked before.”

“You like me fucking you hard and fast?”

She nodded her head.  “I love it so much Mr. Rielly.”

He snaked a hand around her body and began rubbing circles on her clit.  “You ready to cum, Briony?”

“Yes.  Fuck, yes.  Please.”

“When I spank you I want you to cum,” he instructed her.  “And I don’t want you to stop.  Understood?”

“Yes.  Yes yes yes yes,” she said in hushed whispers.  

Bee waited a few moments, and when she didn’t feel the hard smack on her ass she whined.  She waited for another few moments – and still nothing.  She was desperate.  She was going to kill him.  She was going to cum any second.  “Mr. Ri--”

Smack!

She cried out, loud, her orgasm pulsating through her like a tidal wave, her entire body shaking and her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath.  Morgan continued to pound in and out of her with his throbbing cock, while his hand continued to rub at her clit, giving her orgasm after orgasm, over stimulating her just how she liked it.  After what felt like a million of them – a million different orgasms, a million different cries, a million different moans and desperate shouts of his name – she finally, finally, felt his hot cum pour into her, filling her up as his cock twitched and throbbed inside of her.  She felt his body shake against hers, his own moans and desperate calls out of her name filling the air as they rode out their orgasms together, clinging on to one another.

Bee swore she could still feel an orgasm ride through her entire body as he pulled out, the both of them collapsing on the bed trying to catch their breath.  Her core was still so hot and sensitive as she curled up in Morgan’s arms, both their bodies hot and glistening with sweat.  She was surprised the lingerie made it through – that Morgan didn’t rip it off half way through or take it off with his teeth or something.  She was glad it got this reaction out of him.

“Bumblebee…” she heard Morgan’s voice, barely above a whisper.  “I wouldn’t have done that with anybody else but you.”

She smiled, curling further into his body.  “I wouldn’t have done that with anybody else either,” she responded, reaching down below their bodies to grab hold of his cock.  “Thank you for indulging me.  For giving me exactly what I wanted.”

“I love you so much,” he mumbled, feeling her put his softening cock at her core again, the heat still so comforting.  “I love you.  I love you.  I love you.”

***

Bee was a bit sad to leave Kelowna and the Okanagan area, after having experienced its beauty, great weather, and lovely people, but she had to remember she had Connor, Andy, and Shirley Rielly waiting for her on the other side, eagerly anticipating her presence in Vancouver for the second time that year.  Earlier that morning, she and Morgan had checked out of Hester Creek Winery, where they had been staying for the past three nights, and loaded everything into their rental car for their five hour road trip to Vancouver.  After a last minute stock up of the wine from the winery, and a very last minute stop at Tim Horton’s for some coffee and snacks to sustain themselves (like good Canadians) they were on their way, the GPS system directing them where to go.

“You tell me anytime you want to stop to take pictures,” Morgan said as they took the on-ramp onto the highway.  “It’s going to be a pretty scenic route.  Especially when we drive through the provincial park.”

“I will,” Bee smiled, stuffing a Timbit into her mouth before feeing Morgan one.  “I’ll try not to stop too much.  I don’t want this trip to take eight hours.”

“Nuh uh,” Morgan shook his head.  “You just tell me whenever you want to stop.  We can take ten hours.  It doesn’t matter.”

“Your parents are expecting us for dinner.”

“We’ll call them and tell them there’s traffic,” he said, his mouth still full with the Timbit.  He winked at Bee as she gave him one of her looks.

Morgan reached over the console and grabbed her thigh, exposed thanks to the pretty sundress she was wearing, squeezing it gently as the road opened before them.  It was there for a while, as they continued to drive on the open road, occasionally squeezing and massaging her skin before it crept higher and higher, getting dangerously close to her core.

“Keep your eyes on the road, you perv,” Bee placed her hand above Morgan’s to stop it from going any higher.  If it did, she knew he’d probably swerve off the road.

“I am keeping my eyes on the road,” he reasoned.  “My mind, on the other hand, isn’t on the road.”

Bee snorted, shaking her head playfully.  “You want to fuck me in this rental car, don’t you?”

“Maybe.”

She couldn’t help but snort.  At least he was being honest.  “Why’re you so horny all the time?” she giggled.

“You make me.”

“If you keep it up we’re gonna end up having ten kids.”

There was a silence between the two.  It wasn’t awkward, or charged, or because either was tongue-tied and didn’t know what to say.  It was just…a silence.  A comfortable silence, the road of the car on the road filling the void, until Morgan spoke first.  “We’re not having ten kids.”

Bee couldn’t help but smile.  “No.  Definitely not.  I’m not doing that to my vagina.  We’re not the Duggars.”

“Two or three is good,” he said.

Bee nodded her head in agreement.  “Two or three.  One of each.  Whatever happens first.”

Morgan took his eyes off the road to look at her.  She noticed his smile.  How he was looking at her; like he’d just laid eyes on the image of perfection.  “Yeah.  You…you’ve thought about it, then?”

Bee nodded her head.  If she thought about the wedding, and establishing a life together, there was no way she didn’t think about kids either.  “Of course.  You know I want kids.”

“I know.  But like…”

“I want kids with you, if that was going to be your next question,” she said.  “I mean, there’s no question.  It’s you.  I’m not having anybody else’s kids.  I’m having your kids,” she stressed.  

“Okay,” he said, unable to contain the smile on his face.  “I uh…yeah.  Okay.”

“Tongue tied, are we?”

“No,” he kept trying to contain his smile.  “Not at all.  Just glad you’ve thought about it too.  That’s all.”

“I know…I know you’ve always initiated these conversations in the past,” she said, thinking out loud at this point.  “Whether drunk or tipsy or not.  But I think about this stuff do.  I do love you more than I can describe with words.  I just…I think because of my background, because what I’ve been through, I’m a bit less open about it.  Because my mom never wanted to hear it when I was a young kid, and because I never really loved her later on growing up.  But I do love you.  And like…I want everything with you.  A life.  A house.  Children.  I may not vocalize it, but I do.  And I don’t picture myself having all those things with anybody else.  I only want it with you.”

Morgan flipped his hand so he could hold hers and bring it across to his lips so he could kiss it and hold it across his chest.  “I only want it with you too,” he said, his lips rubbing against her hand.  “I’ve only ever wanted it with you.  And I want to give you all that.”

“I want to give it to you too.  This is a relationship.  A partnership.  We can give each other these things,” Bee clarified.

“Yeah.  You’re right.  That’s what I meant,” he nodded his head again, correcting himself.  “We can give each other these things.  A life.  A house.  Children.  But not for a while – children, anyway.  We…we’re already building a life together.”

“We are.”

“Everything else will come in time,” Morgan said confidently.  “I’m just…I know I’ve told you this before, but I thank my lucky stars every single day that it’s you in this life with me.”

Bee smiled again, unable to keep her eyes off of him.  “And I thank my lucky stars you sent a mojito to my table.”

[johannesviii]

Top 10 Personal Favorite Hit Songs from 2019

The last list, for now. It’s been a wild ride.

Not the best of these lists, but some really refreshing stuff charted that year, and what was good was super good. And also, here’s a barely elligible #1 that nobody seemed to care about for some reason.

Disclaimers:

Keep in mind I’m using both the year-end top 100 lists from the US and from France while making these top 10 things. There’s songs in English that charted in my country way higher than they did in their home countries, or even earlier or later, so that might get surprising at times.

Of course there will be stuff in French. We suck. I know. It’s my list. Deal with it.

My musical tastes have always been terrible and I’m not a critic, just a listener and an idiot.

I have sound to color synesthesia which justifies nothing but might explain why I have trouble describing some songs in other terms than visual ones.

In 2019, my finger was fixed, I dropkicked depression in the garbage bin (with a little help from Eurovision because it was super good and full of hilarious shit), got married, and went on a roadtrip on Vancouver Island (BC, Canada), and that was my first real travel in 13 years. Met a lot of great people, seen amazing places, trees, bears and whales. And planes are also part of the adventure when you’re not used to them (you can watch movies on little screens from your seat now?? I had no idea. I watched so many movies). It was very exciting.

I also saw VNV Nation live in February, for the third time in six years. This time I had enough budget to buy a tshirt. I wasn’t expecting that concert to be even better than the previous two. At that point the new album had only been out for a couple of months and we still knew the lyrics of most of the new songs and Ronan’s face was constantly broadcasting a kind of “...........how” expression (face it guys, we like you. A lot). And they finished with All Of Our Sins and let me tell you, half the club was ready to start a revolution by the time that was over. Super intense.

Ok. 2019 albums! First, let’s talk about some negative things. Coldplay released Everyday Life at the end of the year. It was... uh. It was basically how I stopped loving their new stuff. That’s a very sad conclusion (for now) to this saga. This is exactly what I feared would have happened after Viva La Vida, aka them trying to go back to their earlier sound - except in the meantime we’ve got three fantastic albums with songs full of energy and joy. So I’m not too mad about this, just disappointed.

Within Temptation released Resist, and it wasn’t very good either, but I appreciated the general aesthetic of it. More SF-themed albums in symphonic metal, please. NF released The Search and while I’m still not a fan there’s a song on it that would have been #1 on this list if it had been elligible, so that’s something. And Carly Rae Jepsen released Dedicated and it was super good so why isn’t she getting new hits. Why. It feels unfair. Oh, and Avantasia made Moonglow and that’s the first time I’ve cared about their stuff in like a decade or so. Ghost In The Moon is super good, check it out.

But the big event of the year music-wise, as far as I’m concerned, was the return of two bands I thought we had lost forever. Of course My Chemical Romance reformed, but they don’t have new music yet, so the main event for this post is the return of Tool with Fear Inoculum. It’s not even their best album, but having a pretty good new Tool album in the year of our lord 2019 wasn’t at all something I was counting on. Of course, the hardcore fans are still as insufferable as ever (insert the “you need a pretty high IQ” copypasta here), but it didn’t spoil my enjoyment of it. Come on! Their first album in 13 years! 80 minutes of hypnotic heavy rhythms and weird shit, an album that trolled me when I opened it by playing a music video while I was looking somewhere else (yeah I jumped), and they even managed to land a track for one week on the US hot 100! Again, Tool! On the hot 100! in 2019! Unbelievable. Are we starting to return to the good timeline? I certainly hope so.

Unelligible songs, now. The Search by NF would have topped this list super easily. Might be one of the songs I listened to the most in 2019, actually. Now That I Found You by Carly Rae Jepsen, again, should have been a hit, and I beg you to watch this music video if you’ve never seen it. The 1975 released the super unexpected People, which was still good, and also Frail State of Mind. And most unexpected of all, three artists I didn’t care about at all teamed up and made absolute gold: I Think I’m OKAY, by Machine Gun Kelly, YUNGBLUD and Travis Barker. That would have been the second slot on this list if it had been elligible. Or maybe the first, even? Not sure. I’m just so happy this kind of angry but uplifting music is starting to become popular again. I just love everything about this song.

Here’s a short list of honorable mentions!

Roi (Bilal Hassani) - I don’t like this song a lot, but I do like it, I’m glad it was our song for the ESC 2019, and Bilal is a very nice and endearing person, and everyone who disrespects him on twitter is free to come fight me in the pit, where I’m still waiting with that tambourine from my 1992 list.

Con Calma (Daddy Yankee, Katy Perry, Snow) - You already know I liked the original Informer a lot, so I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t pleased to hear this clone of it on the radio.

Breathin’ (Ariana Grande) - Here’s the usual “if I had better taste this would be higher” honorable mention.

Summer Days (Martin Garrix) - In the absence of any new hit song from Macklemore this will do in a pinch.

Circles (Post Malone) - The fact that everyone seems to adore this and I’m over there saying “it’s ok I guess” probably means I will never love Post Malone nor understand the hype about him, and that’s okay, I can live with that.

High Hopes (Panic! At the Disco) - Still elligible. Still good but too borderline annoying to make the list.

How Do You Sleep (Sam Smith) - This year Sam Smith pulled a Viva La Vida and decided to stop making boring music all of a sudden and I’m LIVING FOR THIS. I certainly hope they continue in that direction.

And now, the list.

10 - La Grenade (Clara Luciani)

US: Not on the list / FR: #55

The only semi-filler on the list. I still like it a lot. Don’t have anything to say about it, though.

9 - Panini (Lil Nas X)

US: #40 / FR: Not on the list

Wasn’t too impressed by this at first and it took a while to grow on me, but the chorus is a nice little earworm, and “hey panini, don’t you be a meanie” has a tendency to pop in my head when I read hateful comments on the internet now. And Lil Nas X is just too endearing to be ignored. We’re so lucky to have someone who became famous so quickly and instantly decided to dress like a Jojo character and have the geekiest music videos possible and still be super nice and humble. We don’t deserve this guy.

8 - Dance Monkey (Tones And I)

US: Not on the list / FR: #6

I’m super glad the US are finally getting on the hype train in 2020 because this is a ton of fun. If the voice was juuuuuust a little less grating this would be even higher. Impossible to get it out of your head and somehow in this case that’s a good thing.

7 - Dancing With a Stranger (Sam Smith & Normani)

US: #14 / FR: Not on the list

As I said in the honorable mentions, Sam Smith pulled a Viva La Vida and decided to stop making boring music all of a sudden and I couldn’t be happier about that. This song is still a bit too calm for my taste most of the time, but when I’m in the right mood, it’s just fantastic.

Again, I hope Sam Smith continues in that direction, because if you had told me a couple of years ago that I would start to like their stuff one day, I would have laughed out loud.

6 - Bad Guy (Billie Eilish)

US: #4 / FR: #16

Duh.

I’m not as enthusiastic about When The Party’s Over as a ton of people are, mostly because, well, it’s a slow emotional song with little to no colour in it and by now you’re already aware I tend to have next to zero interest in that kind of songs. Bad Guy, on the other hand, is half hilarious half scary in equal doses, and even if I’m not super fond of the weird outro, it’s still a fantastic, weird as shit song, and I’m really glad Billie Eilish exists. Can’t wait to see where she goes from there.

I’m super glad this song didn’t come out when I was a teenager myself though. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I would have survived if the musical landscape from 16 years ago had been as depressed as it currently is. Thank god music is slowly getting more energetic again in 2020. Let’s stay on that track.

5 - Hey Look Ma I Made It (Panic! At The Disco)

US: #61 / FR: Not on the list

I follow several music critics on youtube and over the course of 2019, I’ve seen undiluted vitriol and hatred against this song (Spectrum Pulse even made a list of his “worst hit songs” of the decade and put this one at #10! TEN!!). And... I don’t really get where it’s coming from? Maybe I’m too literal-minded to see what the problem is with a sarcastic song saying “look I sold out and now I found success again! And it’s not that great!”. I just think it’s a lot of fun. Thank god Todd put it on his best list, at least we can agree on one thing for once.

It is hilarious that after putting so many Fall Out Boy songs on my lists, the one that I love the most from Panic! is the sellout song. Not sure why this was huge while the even better Say Amen wasn’t, though.

4 - Sunflower (Swae Lee & Post Malone)

US: #2 / FR: Not on the list

I usually don’t get the “chill” songs that tend to be successful these days but this one, unlike most Post Malone songs (bar Circles), has lovely pastel colors and a cloudy texture and it’s a really good vibe. It took several months to grow on me but it sure did.

In about ten years, people will listen to Sunflower and be submerged by nostalgia, mark my words.

3 - Old Town Road (Lil Nas X)

US: #1 / FR: #1 (see, everyone agrees for once)

Everyone on the planet already wrote a thinkpiece about this song and yet I’ve only seen maybe one out of five mentioning, just in passing, that the entire song is based on a Nine Inch Nail track from Ghosts I-IV, superbly re-used to make a weird and insanely catchy country hip hop song out of it. Ghosts has been one of my go-to albums to listen to while I’m painting for about ten years now. I’m saying all this because hearing a track from Ghosts on the radio for months was absolute bliss for me, especially in a new and improved version.

Thank you Lil Nas X for everything you’ve been doing and I wish you a long and successful career. You deserve it. I love this and I love you.

2 - Bury A Friend (Billie Eilish)

US: #73 / FR: Not on the list

Hello again, Billie Eilish.

This song is absolutely terrifying and that was before I even saw the music video. This is the soundtrack of your nightmares right there. I’m not even sure it deserves to be so high on the list, but frankly I’m too terrified to care. Maybe Old Town Road should be higher. I don’t know.

Also you have to know that when I’m super tired I go into echolalia mode and automatically repeat words or entire sentences that my brain considers interesting, like “potiron” (pumpkin) or “dramatique” ; and recently, my brain decided “when we all fall asleep, where do we go?”, sung exactly like it’s sung in this song, was its new favorite sentence. So. Hearing yourself saying that to an empty room while you’re drawing or folding clothes or cleaning plates is not a very pleasant experience, and it makes this song extra scary to me.

And now, here’s the last #1 of the last one of these lists (for now), and I’m glad to announce it closes this series of posts in a super fitting way.

Check this out. It’s so perfect in every way.

1 - Walk Me Home (Pink)

US: #99 / FR: Not on the list

Nobody seemed to care about this song over the course of 2019, and it's barely elligible, and I still have no idea why. The music reviewers I follow only either talked about it super briefly when it came out, or not at all. The rare ones who were making top 100s at the end of the year instead of top 10s usually put it somewhere in the middle of their lists. And yet it’s the elligible song I’ve listened to the most.

If you’ve been reading this series of posts for a while now, you probably already know exactly why it’s here, but here’s a quick recap.

The second album I ever bought in my life was Pink’s Missundaztood in 2002, and I loved her music a lot:

I was still really fond of her stuff in 2007:

Then she started to become less interesting and I basically ignored her apart from a brief blip on my radar in 2017:

Meanwhile, in 2012, fun. made some of the best songs of the entire decade before vanishing instantly, and I’ve been mourning them ever since:

And in the middle of last year, here I am, listening to the radio, and suddenly I hear something that sounds exactly like a fun. song, except I’ve never heard it before and it’s sung by a female singer, and, most importantly, it’s 2019 and fun. broke up more than six years earlier. And I’m like, what’s going on. This is so good. What the hell. What is this.

And I hear it a second time weeks later, and I google it, and I discovered that 1) it was Pink singing this, which made it my favorite Pink song in literally more than ten years, and 2) it was, indeed, written by one of the guys from fun., among other people who’s influence is less obvious.

I guess the main lesson from 2019, between newcomers making great music based on dead trends, old groups reforming, and this song, is that nothing’s gone forever, and things you used to enjoy can come back at the most unexpected time and in the most unexpected form.

There’s always, always gonna be new music to love, and it’s just a question of time.

Quick note

And with this, these lists are over... for now.

I don’t regret making them even if they were a ton of work, because that was super useful for a lot of different reasons.

They helped me get a better understanding of my own life’s chronology. That may sound stupid but I tend to link events to the music I was listening to at the time, and putting all that music in chronological order helped a lot.

I rediscovered a ton of songs I had completely forgotten about, and a lot of new ones. My playlist is much richer now and I’m happy about that.

I also discovered a few artists I knew nothing about.

It forced me to analyse two depressive episodes in my life and just because everything was now in exact chronological order, it accidentally helped me pinpoint what caused both of them. Better and cheaper than therapy. Impressive.

It made me realise how important some bands and artists had been in my life, and I relistened to some of their catalogue while making these lists. For some it was really obvious (Indochine, Placebo, Mylène Farmer, My Chemical Romance among some others), and for some others (Moby, Linkin Park, Mika in particular), it was a real surprise.

It made me realise that Placebo might have been huge in France but weirdly enough not that huge in the UK nor in the US. It’s especially striking when you look at their wikipedia page in English then in French and realise how detailed the French one is compared to the English one. Can’t believe Sleeping With Ghosts was a n°1 album here and basically nowhere else. That was the band where that discrepency was the most obvious but it wasn’t the only one like that. Really puts stuff in perspective.

It also helped me realise how cyclical popular music is. 1) trends tend to die near the end of every decade and the worst year is usually somewhere between the 8th and the 9th year. 2008 and 2018 tend to confirm this. 2) For the same reason, some new & interesting stuff appears at the beginning of every decade, and reaches its high point of quality between the 2nd and 4th year of the decade. 3) Basically I’m saying we’ve now passed the lowest musical quality in recent memory and 2022-2023 will have some exceptional music.

See you in December 2020. I have no doubt there’s a ton of great music coming up in the near future.

[starfoxrry]

soooo no one tagged me to do this but i’m gonna do it anygays bc :O

1. Big White Lie (263k) by acrayonsmile (ao3)

You’re not running on three hours of sleep.

You don’t have a headache.

You’re not an omega.

You’re Louis Tomlinson: Beta.

Louis has been pretending to be something he’s not for as long as he can remember. Will the pack find out before it’s too late to fix him?

2. Cold Little Heart (194k) by @seduced-by-curls

Louis is a soft omega with an abusive past and an alpha child A few months after getting a divorce, Louis meets Harry, an ex-military alpha wolf that offers him something -odd.

In exchange for teaching him how to cook, Harry will babysit his son, Abraham Louis really could use the help.

3. Now In A Minute (150k) by @avocadolouie

13 feels like yesterday for many people, but for Louis it actually was.

More than anything in the world, Louis Tomlinson dreams of growing up. Simply skipping over all of the awkward, embarrassing years of teenage existence and getting on with life. Real life.

So when thirteen-year-old Louis wakes up in the body of his thirty-year-old self, he expected everything in his adult life to be picture perfect. And maybe it is. He has it all…or so it seems.

Except his favorite person and lifelong best mate, Harry Styles, is totally missing from the equation and Louis doesn’t understand why. He has a lot of catching up to do and as adult life turns out to be more than what he bargained for, Louis can’t help wondering why a life that seemed so perfect, feels so empty.

Or the 13 going on 30 au that should have been done years ago.

4. Apples Always Fall (As I Do For You) (54k) by @rainbowsandgucci​

Louis is staying at his Aunt’s farm in a small town in Minnesota for four months. To deal with the boredom that sets in a week into his stay, he starts working at the local apple orchard, owned by twenty six year old Harry Styles.

Louis quickly finds himself falling in love with the orchard, and he finds a family in Harry’s friends Niall, Liam, and Zayn.

He also starts to fall in love with Harry.

Falling in love with him turns out to be the easy part.

5. Only You Can Be My Alpha (194k) by @wubwubnparmaham

The one where Louis is banished from his tribe, and lands himself in Harry’s instead. The alluring Pack Alpha makes Louis question his nature and he doesn’t know how he feels about that. But you can’t fight destiny.

6. Where You Lay (86k) by @ham-palpert

When Louis’s upcoming heat threatens his success at his new dream job, he asks the best (and only) person he can think of to help him through it: his best mates’ best mate, Harry Styles. Harry reluctantly accepts, and together the two navigate a strange friends with benefits relationship that quickly turns complicated.

7. Tangled Up In You (45k) @missandrogyny​

Harry blinks once. And blinks again. And says, his voice dangerous: “Niall, did you get me a mail-order bride?”

Because what the actual fuck. It kind of looks like Niall’s just purchased a person. For Harry.

Niall blinks back at him for a few moments, before throwing his head back and howling with laughter. Harry throws a pillow at him. Hard. “No, what the fuck, Harry.”

“A prostitute then?” Harry also doesn't want a prostitute.

“Of course not!”

“A stripper?”

“No!”

Damn, he’s running out of ideas. He settles for launching another pillow at Niall’s head. Niall bats it away easily, still laughing. “Stop!”

“What did you get me, then?!” Niall must hear the tinge of hysteria in his voice, because he’s pulling himself together, trying to stop himself from laughing.

There’s still a big grin on his face, though, when he says, “I got you a professional cuddler.”

A professional…what. “What?”

8. Have You Coming Back Again (31k) by @crazyupsetter 

It’s five o’clock in the morning. Louis has a lecture at half eight. He could be using this time to study or to do his readings or to go to the gym, but - well. He doesn’t have any exams coming up, he’s not going to his seminar today anyway and he hates the gym.

Instead he’s using this time to fuck with Harry Styles’ poor little brain.

Louis jogs across the street and jabs the key into the car door. It opens easily, not that he was expecting anything else. He copied the key for a reason, after all.

He’s got Harry’s schedule memorized, more because the guy keeps following him around than anything, so he doesn’t bother looking around before climbing behind the wheel and setting his bag on the passenger seat. It’s a Monday, which means that Harry doesn’t even get out of bed before noon unless he’s planning on harassing Louis.

9. All The Right Moves (32k) by @cherrystreet​

This is the third game in a row that Harry has been distracted by the noisy boy in the stands, five rows back.

There’s really no reason that he should feel compelled to stare into the audience as frequently as he is, but he can’t help it. This boy is a nuisance. And he’s loud. Even from basketball court with nine other players running by him, shoes squeaking on the shiny hardwood floor, and thousands of cheering college students, Harry can hear this boy nearly shrieking, his laugh more like a cackle than anything.

It’s seriously obnoxious.

10. Worth Dying For (44k) by @crazyupsetter 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Louis says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. In the center of the table, a set of three glossy photos stares up at him, mocking him.

“A security detail is non-negotiable, Louis, you know this,” his mum reminds him, tapping the middle photo with two fingers.

Louis doesn’t look back down at the pictures, gesturing towards them wildly, over-dramatically. “This is not a security detail!” he protests. “This is a lanky college student. In what world do you hire someone like this kid to protect me?”

11. Another Day Gettin' Into Trouble (25k) by @crazyupsetter

Harry’s drunk when the idea occurs to him. He’s also a pop star, so sometimes his drunk ideas turn into actual things instead of just ideas. The clone-a-willy kit is one of them.

In Harry’s defense, when he first thinks about it his intention is just to buy the kit and give it to Louis to make his own dildo with, because that’s what he wants anyway, right? To have a penis filling him up?

Then he realizes that it would be weird if Louis made a copy of his own dick to fuck himself with. It’d be super weird. Louis fucking himself? That’s a weird idea. Harry’s pretty sure Louis wouldn’t like that.

Clearly the only solution here is to use his own dick for the mold.

12. A Sea Without Water, A Compass Without Direction (84k) by sincerely_inge (AO3)

”Tell me, Louis,” Captain Styles said, leaning forward a little. ”D’you think I’m an idiot?”

”I—what?” Louis asked, surprised by the blunt question. He had expected something different, something along the lines of how he learned music, or how he ended up as a prisoner on the other ship.

”Do you think I’m an idiot?” The captain repeated, putting emphasis on each word as though Louis couldn’t understand him otherwise.

”Of course not,” Louis said, shaking his head. He’d be a fool for thinking such a thing, and an even bigger fool for saying it out loud. ”Captain.”

Captain Styles nodded slowly, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands in his lap. ”Then why did you lie to me?”

”L-Lie?”

”Out on the deck. You lied to me,” he said. He held up his hand, three fingers up. ”Three lies total. I hate liars.”

13. I Know How To Whisk (But Teach Me Anyway) (32k) by @2tiedships2​

Louis scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. “I don’t understand. Unmated alphas don’t just go into a rut out of nowhere. Unless…”

Louis grabbed onto Niall’s arm in desperation. “Am I a homewrecker? Does Harry have a mate? Oh my God, was he not flirting? Did the change in his scent not have anything to do with my smell yesterday? Did I just make that up!?”

Louis let go of Niall and dropped his face in his hands. “I knew it was too good to be true.”

“You’re an idiot,” Niall stated. Louis looked up to find Niall rolling his eyes. He snapped his laptop closed and moved to stand up. “I need to get some work done. Why don’t you stay here and think back to ABO dynamics 101.”

With that Niall hopped off the couch and headed to his room. He stopped and turned to Louis before he made it to the hall and said, “Oh, and Lou. You may want to reconsider your outlook on soulmates.”

Louis yelled after him. “Soulmates aren’t a thing, Niall!”

Or the one in which banana bread just might make Louis change his mind about soulmates.

14. The Compulsion to Find Love (140k) by @toomanylarrytears​

The most prestigious English third-level institution, Candling University, accepts omega students for the first time and Louis Tomlinson applies with bright eyes and brighter ambitions. There he encounters personal obstacles, traditional mindsets and a beautiful boy who inverts every prejudice Louis has ever known.

15. Let Me Feel Your Heartbeat (34k) by @angelichl​

Harry is 98% sure Louis hates him. So he feels like his bewilderment is justified when the omega offers to help him through his rut.

16. For Reasons Wretched And Divine (94k) by indiaalphawhiskey (AO3)

Ten years ago, Harry Styles was just a nerdy kid with one friend and a debilitating crush on the captain of his school’s football team. He thought the stars were smiling down on him the day he and Louis Tomlinson were paired for their end-of-term Literature project. But because Harry’s life is decidedly not a fairytale, the budding friendship quickly leads to the least happy ending of all time.

Now, Harry Styles is a household name. Barely twenty-seven with two Grammy nominations to his name, the singer-songwriter is poised to take the music industry by storm with his highly anticipated third album. So, what happens when the best producer in the business is also the only person Harry’s vowed never to speak to again?

An AU in two parts. Two boys, two stories, and hopefully, two chances at love.

17. Friendly Neighborhood Spideypool (18k) by @shitucute

“Don’t fuck with me, I’m not in the mood.” Louis’ got the urge to punch him in the face, but he knows deep down that if anything it’ll just add fuel to Harry’s innuendo fire.

“You know I only fuck you, not with you. There’s a difference. It’s slight but still there.” He’s joking, but it’s sincere in a way that only Deadpool could make it. It gives Louis a strange mix of emotions, his body doesn’t know whether to fill with butterflies or to knee Deadpool in the balls again for insinuating them fucking.

or, Harry is Deadpool and Louis is Spider-Man and they’ve got way too much history

18. Strawberries & Cigarettes (74k) by @dimpled-halo

Harry looks up and immediately freezes. Next to Ms. Archie stands the boy from just the other day. The boy with the leather jacket and chipped black nails, that might or might not be sketched in the very book Harry has just placed on the table in front of him. The leather jacket is missing today, probably because they aren’t allowed as part of their required uniform attire, but Harry can still see the fading black nail polish on his nails, and eyeliner around his eyes. Harry’s mouth goes a little dry. This boy is so intriguing to him.

“Ye-yes, Ms. Archie?” Harry tries to play it cool, but he’s almost positive that his cheeks are burning red, and he’s relieved neither of them can tell how fast his heart is beating in his chest.

The boy seems to also recognize Harry, because his lips curve into a knowing smirk.

“Harry is at the top of his class. He’s your best bet at getting familiar with things around here.” She explains.

Louis nods, his smirk still very prominent on his face. “Thank you Ms. Archie. I’ll be sure to take advantage of young Harold here.”

Summary: Two stories, eleven years, and the two boys that never stopped loving each other.

19. Mark my word (we gon’ be alright) (35k) by harioandlouigi

“He’s always known that there would come a time when Harry would bond with some beautiful, quiet omega, and they would have lots of curly-haired pups and live happily ever after.

Knowing it and living it are two very different things, though. Watching the object of your affection desperately search for a mate and completely disregard you as an option is all sorts of painful, but it is what it is, and Louis is just going to have to learn to live with that.”

Or, an A/B/O AU featuring an oblivious Harry as the pack leader, a pining Louis as his second-in-command, and an entourage of friends and family who are a little too good at keeping their mouths shut.

20. Let’s Fall in Love in a Place You Want to Stay (134k) by @harryventura

A George of the Jungle / Tarzan AU where Louis is a model who meets Wild Man Harry in the Congo. He was raised by apes and barely speaks a word of English and turns Louis’ life upside down

21. Why Cant It Be Like That (63k) by @taggiecb

Louis Tomlinson, head of his local hospital’s charity fund, suddenly finds himself in the heart of the Royal family when his mother marries the third son of the reigning monarch. Such an upset in lifestyle brings a lot of changes for Louis, one of them being the need for a stylist.

Enter Harry Styles, a cutting edge fashion stylist who loves his job and prides himself on his passion. The first time he sees Louis Tomlinson on the cover of a tabloid he wants to dress him, style him, make him as beautiful as Harry knows he could be. When he’s hired to do just that, he knows this will be a perfect partnership. That is, until he actually meets the man.

A fashion AU with a royal twist, where Louis doesn’t need a stylist, Harry’s thrilled to have a real life Barbie doll, and they’re both very wrong about each other.

22. blind from this sweet, sweet craving (31k) by @missandrogyny

"So, I guess we'll go?" Louis asks later, when Harry has calmed down and eaten his weight in Chinese food. He plays with this chopsticks, spearing another piece of chicken and pops it in his mouth. "I mean, I wouldn't mind. We could make it an adventure."

Harry observes him, watches him seated across from him on their old living room carpet, with a container of food on his lap. He's fidgeting, avoiding meeting Harry's gaze–he probably knows that Harry's mad at him for ruining the one chance they had to get out of this situation. And he's not wrong, Harry is definitely very mad. Harry wants to strangle him and castrate him and smack him upside the head.

But he's also Harry's best friend, and despite everything, despite all the fuck-ups and the plot twists and everything just not playing out the way it should, he'd still rather be stuck in this situation with Louis than any of the other boys. He's got Harry's back, and in a weird, abstract way, he knows they'll be able to get out of this situation, together.

Harry sighs. "We're going," he says resignedly, his shoulders slumping.

Oh well. There are definitely worse ways to spend the weekend than pretending to be engaged to his best friend.

23. led by your beating heart (29k) by @missandrogyny​

Nick leans over. "Oh," he says, his voice smug. "Who is that?"

Harry just blinks at his phone. "Um," he manages to stammer out.

"Who's that, Harry?" Nick asks again, but this time he raises his eyebrows and smirks. Harry knows Nick is just teasing, and that he's not really looking for new Harry Styles gossip, but, um. He might have found something. Accidentally.

Harry opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is another 'um'. He really needs to work on translating his thoughts into words. But then it probably wouldn't be any helpful right now, would it? His mind is as blank as a newly erased etch-a-sketch.

"Oh," Nick says again, this time gleefully, seemingly having picked up on Harry's distress. "Looks like we've got a story here! Are you going to call or delete her number?"

Her number. So Nick thinks it's a girl. Well, Harry can't blame him: 'Lou' is kind of an androgynous nickname. His stylist's name is Lou.

But this Lou, well, Louis, he's kind of, really, really not a girl. He's really pretty though, which, is something.

(Or: AU where Harry's in One Direction, Louis isn't, and they reconnect over a game of 'Call or Delete'.)

24. Queen Of Arizella (197k - wip) by @seduced-by-curls

Stealing from Royalty is punishable by death.

Louis starts over, doing his best to keep his hands at his sides but he is hungry and he tries stealing from the wrong Royal.

Harry is King of Arizella, he needs a Queen and who better than an omega on the run from death? Louis will learn to become the perfect Queen -the perfect fake Queen, but only for a few months.

A fake lover, a fake Queen, but a real bond.

i tag: @bottomlouis @iconichalo @tinytommoson @oioilarrie @chaoticsue @babyy-honey and anyone who wants to do it just say i tag u