#i always get lines from this song stuck in my head and this is today's.

[yeats-infection]

the rage of love turns inward to prayers of devotion

and these prayers are the constant road across the wilderness

and these prayers are the memory of god...

[carolmunson]

the cars that go boom | (daddydom!sadist!eddie)

this fic isn't related to the title song reference at all, it's just stuck in my head. needed to get this out of my drafts so here's some ddlg themed sadist eddie that's been sitting in my draft folder for fucking ever and i'm sick of looking at it. tw: 18+ mdni ddlg dynamics, daddy kink, eddie being all over a cocky shit bag hottie who likes control but it's consensual, use of a vibrating toy. lots of allusions to other sex.

You watch him get out of the bathroom after his shower, tattoos stretched taught over softly cut muscles. You almost drool. He tried something new with you this week, an orgasm ban -- nearly a sex ban -- in fact, he didn't even want you to see his dick. And much like he always does when he finds a new way to torture you; he was feeling really pleased with himself about it.

'That's more than you deserve,' he hissed at you Monday night while you knelt obediently between his legs. He pet your hair while you watched TV and he jerked himself off, you were not allowed to turn around until he was finished. You pouted all night, and when it happened the next day you started pouting all week. But, the week was over, which meant your punishment was done. You'd spent all day getting ready, a long shower, smooth skin, body butter, his favorite perfume, everything you could do to feel perfect for him. You cleaned the trailer and made dinner, you kissed him when he got in the door to which he blushed and smiled.

'Hi beautiful,' he greeted you so gently, 'I missed you today.'

You watch him dress now, hair dripping while he tugs on a pair of grey sweatpants and a ratty cut off Iron Maiden t-shirt. You sulk a little. Those aren't normally the clothes he'd put on if he wanted to take you to bed, but you don't say anything just yet.

He goes to the kitchen table with a composition notebook and a collection of pens and markers, opening the beat up pages to what you can only assume is a new campaign, a new drawing of a map. You walk over while he mulls over it, adding new territory, scribbling in new lore. You let your hands slide over his shoulders.

"Hi baby," you say sweetly.

"Hi," he responds, focused on his notebook. Your hands slide forward, onto his chest, your face leaning down to his, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Whatcha doing?" you ask innocently.

"Workin' on a campaign," he responds, "We're gonna meet up on Wednesday night so I want it to be semi together."

"Okay," you nod, you run your fingers gently over his scalp, giving him a soft scratch. He keens into the touch, shoulders relaxing while he rolls his head back. You press your luck, letting your fingertip trace over the curve of his ear.

"Hey," he warns softly, "I'm tryin' to focus, sweetheart."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you apologize, but he can't see your grin. Your fingers continue to wander, giving him a sweet shoulder massage while he reads over his story. A quiet 'thank you honey', falls from his full lips while you work out the knots. You press your luck again, trailing your finger down the line of his neck that's the most sensitive to your tongue and touch. Eddie's shoulders tense and he sits up straight, turning to you with a sour pull at his full lips.

"Do you need something?" he asks pointedly. You feel heat rush to your cheeks, "Do you need some attention?"

You nod and he grins, pulling the other kitchen chair over, "Come sit next to me then, you can help."

You roll your eyes and sit down next to him, he bites his tongue at the offense, happy to get to spend some time with you like this. He gives you a chaste kiss on your cheek while you watch him work.

You barely 'help', just sitting there while he crosses things out and re-writes them. While he flips back ten pages and then forward twenty, grabbing a red pencil and putting it down for a blue pencil then picking the red back up and so on. You get restless watching him work, so you get up and grab each of you a beer. Another sugar sweet, 'thaaank you baby,' pours from him, this time deep and focused, dark and syrupy. Molasses tongue. It goes right to your thighs.

You press your luck a third time, scooting close to him, letting your hand smooth over his covered thigh and further up, skimming over his cock that was perfectly outlined in his sweats. He let's out a frustrated sigh when he takes your hand away from his crotch, gently putting it on your lap when he looks at you sternly.

"Daddy's busy, baby," his eyes look down at you, his dominance brewing under angry brows, "Why don't you go play by yourself in another room, hm?"

He turns his attention back to the campaign notebook, while you throb from being scolded. The humilation pools through you when he chastises you, eyes lingering on you while you continue to sit there. After a beat, you get up to walk to the bedroom hearing his voice as you do.

"Good girl," he teases, "Are you being a good listener?"

You look back and see his grin while he leans back in the kitchen chair, crossing his arms. His legs are spread wide under the table, cool authority flowing off of him.

"Are you?" he asks again, a smirk cracking his face as if to ask, 'Does this embarrass you?' It does, it's humiliating.

"I'm a very good listener," you respond quietly, heart dropping in your chest.

His brows raise, waiting for you to add more to the sentence. You let out an aggravated huff through your nose, crossing your arms.

"I'm a very good listener, daddy," you repeat.

"There we go," he smiles cruelly, "Go have fun, sweetheart."

'Have fun? HAVE FUN?' you think to yourself while you go to the bedroom and shut the door with a firm click, 'Fine! I'll have fun without you then! See if I care!' It's not fair that you've been quite literally begging to be fucked for seven straight days, but to go straight into teasing you like this? The type of dominance that makes you feel the most -- god -- embarrassed? Degraded? You'd rather gag on fingers and have him wipe your spit on your face. You'd rather him make you lick someone's cum out of his ass, literally anything but this.

With a huff you open Eddie's top dresser drawer and grab the Hitatchi he bought you as an anniversary gift last year. Hastily, you plug it in behind the bedside table before climbing on to bed, shimmying your jeans off and tossing them to the floor.

Your legs spread, bent at the knees, turning the toy on low and slowly lowering it onto your covered core. The hum is quiet, barely a tremble in the head of the wand when it meets the lacy fabric of your panties. A soft gasp escapes you at the feeling, it had felt like years since you'd been touched there. You move the toy up and down slowly, teasing yourself, little puffs of breath escaping you as you do.

With a click, the buzz intensifies, sliding the head upward to settle softly on your clothed clit. You whimper while your hips start to move slowly against the vibrations, the whirr of the toy filling your ears while your eyes shut. You keep yourself like this for a little, enjoying the slow sensation, the mild tease. You feel it start, like the hook looping into the first car of a roller coaster train, the first tug when the attendant hits 'go'.

“Huh!” you gasp out breathy while your hips twitch. Your lower lips start to swell against the gusset of your bottoms, slick building between them. A slow start. You savor it, a small smile pulling at your lips.

“Look so pretty like that, baby,” you hear his voice and gasp, tossing the toy next to you and snapping your legs shut. He smirks, a devilish chuckle bubbles from his chest, “Oh no, don’t let me interrupt. I said you could go play by yourself, and look at you…”

His voice raises in a lilt, while he sits on the bed. He passes you the wand and smiles, “You’re being such a good girl for me.”

“Go on,” he says with a nod, “Show daddy how you were playing.” You lean back on the pillows, opening up your legs again slowly. He glances between them, eyes flitting down to your mound briefly before meeting your eyes again, he subconciously licks his lips. You keep your legs up and bent up against your chest so he has a view, puffing out a soft sigh when you click the toy on again. He looks at you with a hazy gleam in his brown eyes, nodding slowly at you to remind you of his permission. You run it up your thigh before settling it back down on the center of your slit, letting the vibrations pulse over your entire core. "Hm," you hum out softly as your brows pinch together in a tilt. "Aw, yeah?" he coos out, "Does that feel good?"

"Mhm," you whine, lower lip tucked tight between your teeth. Yuo swallow when he reaches his hand out, smoothing over the soft plushness of your inner thigh. He squeezes, grinning when you let out a soft grunt with a twitch of your hips.

"You've been so patient this week," he purrs, "Such a good girl. Isn't that right?"

You nod hurriedly, watching his hand slide up your thigh, his index finger tracing up the hem of your underwear. It's a smooth hand off, watching his rings gleam in the bedside lamp when it wraps around the handle, both of your hands falling flat by your head. Your palms face the ceiling, matching your eyes when he turns up the vibrations. "Isn't that right, baby doll?" he asks, adding a gentle pressure up against you. Your pussy strains against the fabric the more excited you get, back already in a soft arch while you push into the mattress. "Y-yes, sir," you manage to mutter out. "No, no, that's not who I am tonight," he admonishes, still in a soft and steady voice, almost sweet -- like you don't understand anything. He takes the toy away; making you whimper, leaning up on your elbows behind you.

"You know how to address me," he says, a serpentine confidence flashing in his face, "You're a big girl, aren't you? Or do I have to teach you?"

You let out a shrill groan, head leaning back on it's hinge while your legs kick out in frustration in front of you.

"Hmm, of course," he says, getting up off the bed to pull off his shirt and slide off his sweats. His boxer briefs hug him in tight but it's there and it's missed you more than you've missed it this week, "You act like this and you don't think I should treat you like a little girl?"

You look up at him, bitten lower lip jutting out with a sheen of spit.

"So pouty, too," he coos, crawling onto the mattress between your parted thighs. He sits up on his knees, tall over your frame splayed out on the bed. He lifts one of your legs, pressing it flush against his chest so your foot rests by his ear.

"M'not pouty," you say back while his other hand reaches over your cheek with a light back before splaying over your jaw. His thumb brushes your lower lip before pressing on the dip at the center.

"Open," he instructs, you don't even think to stop yourself. You suck his thumb slow, letting your tongue lave over the length all the while. Spit fills your mouth, wet and eager, already inching at the corners of your mouth. You might as well drool. "Very good," he purrs again from the back of his throat, "Someone learned her lesson this week."

You nod, taking his wrist to steady his hand while you take more initiative with his thumb, implying what you really want.

"Don't get too ahead of yourself," he says lowly, taking his thumb from your mouth. He wipes the spit on your cheek before reaching back over to the wand, keeping your legs spread and holding thight to your thigh against his front.

Your hips shimmy when he holds the toy back in place, thumb running over the power button but not pressing down.

"Hey," he says, commanding, "Look up at me."

Your gaze snaps to his in unadulterated obedience, his distaste for even having to ask evident on his face, "You know better."

"I know better," you nod while you say it, confirming his words. "You do not ever stop looking at me," he glowers down.

"I don't ever stop looking at you," you repeat back, needy for whatever he has for you next. Your hips shimmy again, you try to stifle the whine in your throat but it comes out just the same; desperate and childish. "Oh, baby, do you need help asking for what you want?" his voice lilts, "Does daddy have to guess?" "Turn it on, please," you whisper. "Please what, princess?" he asks, voice mocking with a knowing stare, leaning down so your knee hooks over his shoulder. His chest hovers at an angle over you, chain and guitar pick dangling over your lips. "Please what?" he asks again. "Please daddy," you whine, "Please turn the toy on." "Look at those manners," he grins wickedly, "My sweet girl."

He turns it on, speed setting high with the flick of his finger. It rumbles loud, thighs already twitching while runs it back and forth over your sensitive clit. "Fuck," you gasp out, eyes rolling, "Oh my god, right there." "That's not a very nice word, sweetheart," he chastises, "What do you say?"

"S-sorr-Oh! Oh my god! Oh! -- Sorry, d--shitshitshitshit-- sorrysorrysorrysorry," you nearly cry when the cord in your belly snaps, gushing into the fabric against your core. He greedily keeps your thighs apart, watching while you come undone under him. You gulp when he doesn't take the toy away, your sensitive nerves screaming at the buzz of the vibrator. Your hips writhe and jump, trying to pull away from it all the while he's shaking his head no.

"Gotta hear that apology, princess," he murmurs, "Say sorry."

"Sorry daddy, I'm sorry," you babble out, "M'sorry I'll be so good, I'll be good." He let's out a satisfied hum, clicking the wand off and placing it gingerly on the bedside table. His hand lingers for a moment to make sure it doesn't roll off and then finds it's footing back on the mattress.

"You'll be so good?"

"So good," you nod when he settles back between your thighs. He crawls forward like a cat, pressing his hips slowly up against yours. You sigh needily when you feel the drag of his erection against you, whimpering when you see it affect him the same way. "Shit, baby," he smirks, trying not to break character while he grinds against you a second time, "Fuck." "That's not a very nice word," you tease back, looking up at him through heavy lids. "Well I'm not a very nice guy, am I?" he muses, leaning in to kiss you deeply before one hand reaches down to tug at your panties. You giggle, a sound that sends him reeling when he's in this kind of mood. "You're very nice," you whisper against his lips. "Hmm, yeah?" he growls, noses brushing while he lingers above you. He offers another roll of his hips right before he gets to work on pulling your panties down slipping them off of each ankle with ease. Undressed completely below him, he admires you. He hadn't seen you like this all week, finally getting what you've been waiting for. So patient, so willing. He runs his hands from shoulders to hips, greedy fingers digging into you rough and tumble, grabbing and kneading with disregard to comfort. "Daddy," you start, getting his attention in a voice that makes him ready to serve accordingly, "Fuck me."

A smirk splits his face, it's cute when you ask so brazenly when you're busy looking at him with those sad puppy eyes. "Please, fuck me," you reiterate while he readies himself, boxer briefs peeling off to leave him bare. Your soft gasp at the release of his cock is more of an ego trip than he expected to have, never realizing how much you truly need him like this. How you can really only get off to him, how you've submitted in every way you could. "Daddy's gonna fuck you, sweetheart," he says steadily, climbing back ontop of you, pressing your thighs to your chest, "God, m'gonna fuck you real good."

He leans in for another hungry kiss, ownership laced in his lips. When he breaks away you catch his chin in your hand, an action that makes him bristle, jaw clenching at your attempt at control.

"Fuck me like I've been bad," you request in a timbre so low he nearly melts at the sound, "Fuck me how you fuck bad girls."

He's never flipped you over so fast in your life.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

sink, m | jjk

you left your hair tie, battin’ those eyes by the sink, you leave ‘em behind think I know why – 'hair tie' by ØZI

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; friends-with-benefits going downhill thanks to shitty communication; smut (fem reader, f and m-receiving oral, heavy petting, m-masturbation, ball spanking, spit kink, breath kink, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS – fuckboy?Jungkook x rock fan!reader tired of his shit XD inspired by the song above and ofc I referenced 'Too Much' ;)

--

You left your hair tie by my sink again.

Oh, shit, my bad. I’ll pick it up next time I’m over. :)

You left him on read.

Went back to brushing your teeth, looking down on the clear hair tie by your sink. It was one of those squiggly ones that were meant to not leave ceases in the hair. Not one of those that could easily be secured on the wrist. He must have taken it out right after. Well. He had needed it. You would have opened the window to get that cool night air, but Jeon Jungkook was loud when he was fucking.

Hm.

He sweat a lot when he was fucking. All over his back and chest, his skin glistening in the rainbow starlight generated by your mood lamp. You didn’t really care if the lights were on or off. He liked mood lighting, so he bought it and left it in your room so he could turn it on when he wanted to turn you on. Always tried to act all cool about it, as if you didn’t know exactly what he wanted when he hit you up. As if he actually needed to talk to you in-person about the latest installment of the Marvel universe.

Uh huh.

Somehow your back had ended up against his chest. Somehow his mouth had ended up by your neck and somehow his hand had ended up sliding under your shirt. Can’t stay too late, he always said. Same lines to the same old story. You half-scoffed into the mirror, switching sides of your teeth. The same routine, accidentally knocking the light switch, somehow knowing exactly where in your nightstand the remote for the mood lighting was, and then it was clothes on the floor. Your hand around his wrist and your hot breath by his ear, the fuck you think you’re doing?

“What? Too much?” he had replied with a smirk.

The shit Jeon Jungkook pulled.

Fuck it.

The hair tie must have been because he had planned to eat you out today. Precautions. He was better at it this time than the last. It wasn’t that his black hair was excessively long. A good amount simply fell past his ears when he leaned forward and, between your thighs, it stuck when he sweat. You might have lightly complained about it last time. Jungkook was self-conscious enough to remember and pull back the upper half of his hair before showing up at your doorstep. His own damn fault since he liked to plant his hands on your ass and drag you forward into his face, strong tongue consistently and firmly pressed to your clit and looking up at you with those round dark brown eyes of his. He had been trying to tease you but you saw right through him.

“A little higher up,” you had gently prompted.

The simmering waves danced through your veins as soon as he obeyed. Your hand had eventually found the back of his head. Crowning touch and locking your hips, feeling your slickness press against his lower lip and chin. The thought of your juices smeared into his double lip rings. Your tense thighs pressed into his jaw and cheeks. His long fingers sinking into the full curve of your ass.

The ghost of imprinted fingertips lingering on your skin.

You leaned over the sink bowl and spit out foam.

Jungkook had been truly annoying about it from the start. Needed to know that he was the best you had ever had. First kiss was an accident in the way that accidents don’t really happen. The kind of accident that was you getting into his face after he called you at three twenty-four in the morning and ordering you to stay on the line so he didn’t drunkenly pass out while walking home on a night out. He had even thrown up in some poor neighbor’s flowerbed mid-walk. The next day you had gone over to his place with take-out food and an annoyed attitude, confronting him after he had groggily brushed his teeth, smelling his minty breath as you scolded him that he was too old for this shit, right next to his bathroom sink.

Jungkook’s dark brown eyes had given you this look.

And you immediately knew how this was going to play out.

The kiss was to get you off my case, he said.

But.

“But… would you do it again?”

You rinsed your mouth out and applied your lip balm.

Not seeing yourself in the mirror, but instead seeing your shocked face from back then, squeezed between his bare arms and tasting the mint of his breath, strands of his black hair against your face. You remembered the way he smelled. Like warm, crystal-clear rain. The residual notes of cologne. You had found it later on his dresser. A square glass bottle.

Calvin Klein, Euphoria for men.

Strange, you had smelled that scent on other men before but he never smelled as good as it did on Jeon Jungkook.

But he did this shit all the time. A little kiss here. A little kiss there. Loved to disappear and pop up at just the right time when you were thinking about him and suddenly you were alone with exploring hands and a smiling mouth, is it too much, and you would reply in your most unfazed tone, shut the fuck up. He would promise he wasn’t fucking around but also he wouldn’t stick around either. You didn’t chase him but also you would blow his mind every time. Like that one instance where he had thrown himself into the wall and wheezed for air after you non-stop sucked him off for three orgasms straight, only stopping because you were done swallowing.

“Fuck… How does your mouth always get me hard so fast, f-fuck…”

“Told you not to question me,” was your calm reply as you wiped your lip with the heel of your palm.

There was no way that you were going to tell Jeon Jungkook that he was driving you insane with his behavior. Maybe he really wanted you to be the one to say it. But you weren’t going to, not with his constant, too much or next time or his stupid non-accidental leaving of his hair tie by your sink. He had shirts and sweatpants left behind in your apartment, just in case. The scent of Euphoria for men lingering on your bedsheets for a few hours, but it would disappear before the morning.

Just like him.

You knew Jungkook didn’t like it that you never tried to stop him from leaving.

“If you have to go, you have to go.”

If he wanted to, he would.

You left the bathroom, holding your phone loosely.

-

Jeon Jungkook looked up at the ceiling and wondered if she would let him love her the way he did.

He had a sinking feeling.

It started in the way that all accidents don’t happen. His finger hovering over her name in his contacts one too many times. More than one of those drunk times actually pressing it and then immediately ending the call. And then a single one of those extra drunk times not hanging up when she answered at the second ring. The fuck was she doing up at three in the morning anyway? His drunk brain was too over the moon to care though. His impulses uninhibited and his mouth going off before his brain could keep up.

Then promptly informing her that he needed to vomit and throwing up in some random flowerbed.

Not one of Jungkook’s best moments.

For some reason, she hadn’t completely written him off for that. Both a good thing and bad thing. A good thing because at least that didn’t disgust her. A bad thing because it made him fall in love a little harder. Then she had showed up on his doorstep the next morning with breakfast and looking like a million bucks. She looked too beautiful with tousled hair and that stern kindness. Even her lips moving as she chided him, you are not a kid anymore, you’re an adult, they looked so soft and inviting and she didn’t back away from he leaned in.

His head hurt like hell but he did it.

Her perfume was sweet and smokey and addictive.

He could still remember the feeling of her hand on his chest. Only thin white jersey separating him from those five fingertips. What are you doing? It was his fault. She put him on the spot and he couldn’t admit it fast enough. Getting you off my case. She shoved him and he laughed it off, setting a precedence that he couldn’t stop. No.

Didn’t.

“But… would you do it again?”

She had scoffed at him.

“Let’s see if you’re brave enough to meet me after dark when you’ve got a clearer head. Bye.”

There was something in that expression that dared him. Something in her body language that he couldn’t get out his head. Word on the street was don’t fuck around and find out, so Jungkook did precisely what any man would do when encountered with that information.

He fucked around and found the fuck out.

“Hey, now.”

Shit, her ass had looked so damn good in those black leather pants.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing, punk?”

He had never met a better tongue. And her breath. He had begged her to breathe on him before. Hot and heavy like his heart, over his neck and chest and down his abs, warming the line of spit made by her wicked tongue. Unseen marks that stayed in his mind when he closed his eyes, looking down to her sensual stare, locking eyes with him as her tongue curled around the swollen head of his cock. Didn’t even need to look. So fucking hot. There was magic in that mouth. He never knew what to expect next but it was always exactly what he wanted. Soft and tight. Rough and deep. Warm tongue that curled around his girth and pressed him into the ridges, driving him insane with the sensations and the pressure.

If he had ever wanted anyone else, he had already forgot about them.

Jungkook refused to believe that she fucked anyone but him with that kind of vigor. She would place her palms on the headboard and ram her hips into him like he owed her goddamn rent. Pussy squeezing him all around. Dripping down his balls, sticking to his inner thighs. She would throw her hair back and grin after she blew his mind, sure, I can go again, like it was no big deal even though his chest was about to burst. He must be special.

Right?

He had brought a hair tie with him last night so his hair would stop sticking to his face.

He needed a haircut.

It made him so mad that she wouldn’t take the bait. She would corner him before he had his trap set and then he would balk under her stare, lips to lips to avoid saying anything. Hand to skin. Lips to his jaw, tongue playing with his earrings.

He just didn’t know.

Jungkook rolled in his bed, wishing it was her body beside his.

Stay away. She was a nightmare dressed like a daydream, everyone said. Road to ruin, everyone said. He didn’t care about that shit but he could feel the distance. Even between naked bodies and tongue to tongue, Jungkook got the feeling that she was never going to need him and that pissed him off. Was that stubbornness? Yeah. But wasn’t she being stubborn too by not giving in to what was so clearly there?

He had pulled the hair tie out and put it by the faucet, rinsing off his face to clear his head.

I’m not gonna stay if she doesn’t make me, he had said to himself, using her soft white hand towel to wipe his face. Looked at himself in the mirror and remembered that morning when she had come up behind him, yanking his shoulder and telling him he was too old for this shit. He wished she had done the same thing to him last night too.

But she hadn’t.

The sinking feeling persisted.

He texted back and he would get the hair tie next time. Next time. But she was pulling away and he didn’t know what to do. He didn’t like it. It made him irritated. It made him think he didn’t need this. It made him think he didn’t want anyone else because he was addicted to her now.

And.

It made him sad.

He looked to see if she had replied and of course she hadn’t. Reached back and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it aside with a click of his tongue. Needed a shower. Needed to wash her memory off his mind. Maybe make an effort to call his friends and go out tonight.

Jungkook got up from his bed, holding onto his phone.

-

People were scared to be messy these days. But not you. The world was always going to be chaos. The only way to be in control of it was to be at the center.

Or start it.

You liked to be alone and you liked to be alone amongst people. The kind of feeling most people dreaded. You slid in deeper, deeper into the crowd, caged by body heat and bated breath. The world was darkness alight with neon points. The thundering bass traveling up from the floor seized the heart, threatening to stop it. A steady, continuous beat before the chaos. The other audience members where whispering amongst themselves in the dark. And there you were, standing in the vacuum of space surrounded by universes abound, and you the black hole, catching bits and pieces of their excited conversations, passively devouring in their palpable anticipation.

The music started.

The mosh pit came alive.

You had earplugs to prevent permanent damage for your dangerous pastime. Drums and guitar and guttural vocals. Bodies on the floor and leaning up against yours, even jostling you, but you paid it no mind, licking your teeth and letting the vicious, subline energy burn through you. It was hard to think about anything else. The band was alternative rock but they occasionally covered heavier songs live which was a real treat for your nostalgia.

A phase you never grew out of, heh.

You headbanged along and thankfully the hair tie kept the majority of your hair away from your face.

Not that it would have really mattered here. The concert was a psychedelic and everyone here was under the influence, lost in their own high, too deep into each song, reliving old memories and creating new ones. No one would care if you were sweaty. Everyone was sweating. Still, even with the mesh cutouts on the thighs, you probably shouldn’t have worn these leather pants. Now it was becoming disturbingly hot and you were really hoping adrenaline could make you forget about it. At least you had opted for a mesh long-sleeve shirt and loose crop top with the band’s logo on your upper half. Plus, you learned from last time – a skimpy black swimsuit top under instead of a bra.

Moisture-wicking, check.

“Nice jewelry.”

“Thanks,” was your quick reply between songs. They were talking about your tangle of silver bracelets and chain necklaces, you assumed. You did not really want to engage anyone too much. Rock bands tended to attract a lot of unsavory men. You never knew who you were amongst unless you trusted too much, so it was better to be distant and vigilant.

You tensed during the interlude as the band took a break.

“Are you by yourself? Me too.”

It was years of unfortunate experience that made you relax, because now you could tell the difference between someone you could hurt and someone that could hurt you. You didn’t check your phone when it vibrated while you spoke to the man who approached you. You could feel it and your cardholder practically glued to your hip in these tight leather pants. You weren’t going to get pickpocketed without a fight. But that wasn’t what this was. The guy was calm. Young face with an oddly wise aura. Seemed a little nervous. He was cute in a shy way.

Reminded you of someone.

Intimidating with his broad shoulders and all-black fit. Black hair swept over his forehead and soft dark eyes so large that they reminded you of boba pearls. You got him to smile easily. He had a brilliant, stunning smile. Apparently, he was supposed to meet a date and they flaked on him. It could have been a fabricated story, but he seemed genuine in the way he described it. Since he had already paid, he had decided to stick around. Noticed you because, unlike everyone else tightly packed in their groups, you thrashed alone. He said he was surprised that you had come alone. Even more surprised when you clarified that you had wanted to come alone.

“Well, big bad lone wolves like me can protect timid chipmunks like you, hm?” you joked.

After all, the world didn’t stop revolving just because Jeon Jungkook didn’t try hard enough.

That made him laugh and you let him enjoy the night with you. Even without knowing someone deeply, there was just something about enjoying music together that was its own intense experience. Bonded by bass and beating hearts, by the winded lightheadedness of whipping your heads too hard, by melodies that reminded you of darker times that made you stronger now, strong enough to be alone and casually with another, impulsively letting this strange wrap his arms around your legs and lift you so you could blow your lungs out and go hoarse during the last song.

You didn’t even feel your phone vibrate again because the bass was too fucking intense.

You bounced off that broad shoulder as the lights went down, laughing manically, electricity still simmering in your veins.

“I always wanted to do that.”

“Glad I could help,” the handsome stranger was chuckling. “You’re insane.”

It was, and you took it as such, a compliment.

You didn’t see Jeon Jungkook’s double text until you pulled out your phone to get this guy’s number.

Hey.

I see you.

A strange feeling. But you did as you intended and broke away, not lingering as the rest of the crowd filed out. You weren’t sure if this annoyed new guy, and at the moment you didn’t really care. Life, after all, was not a fairy tale. You wouldn’t have linked up tonight anyway, with or without Jungkook’s texts. The concert had been set in was a small venue next to a bar. People were either going through the side door or through the bar to keep the night going. You also followed towards the bar because you needed to get to the main street to get to the train.

If Jungkook had seen you, he must have brought tickets as well.

You hadn’t thought to even ask him.

You texted back.

You still see me?

Yeah.

You raised your eyebrows at the immediate answer, breaking out the crowd and moving towards the wall. You didn’t, however, look up. You weren’t about to give that satisfaction. Checked the time and the train schedule. Hm. You debated on whether or not to entertain this bullshit.

You look really good. Love your hair like that.

It took effort to not roll your eyes. Thing is, he could just approach you right now. The crowd was thinning out, but you ignored everybody and stayed glued to your phone. The only reason he wasn’t, then, was because he must be with others, which meant for some reason he didn’t want them to know that he was talking to you right now.

And.

That shit really pissed you off.

You cocked an eyebrow.

Come get your hair tie.

One of those times where you actually wanted to be left on read.

But he disappointed you.

Your place or mine?

You stuck your tongue in your cheek and dropped your hand, shoving your phone into your leather pants. Didn’t bother looking around. Just started walking out the door, thinking about the fastest route to the train station. Huh. Twenty-first century and Jeon Jungkook was out here thinking only guys like him could be fuckboys. You pushed through the smoked glass, out into the cool night and bustling street lit up with streetlamps and neon signs. Maybe you should have followed that stranger tonight. No. Deep down, you knew this wasn’t right. You shook your head at no one, whipping your hair about your shoulders, and began your brisk walk, Jeon Jungkook on your brain.

Fucking idiot.

-

He realized it too late.

The top of her hair had been pulled back, half-up, half-down, with wisps of bangs around her face, and he recognized those black leather pants, damn, her ass looks so good, and then he still didn’t get it as her shoulders slumped. She completely ignored his reply, walking out instead.

Ten minutes and then it hit him.

Come get your hair tie.

Fuck.

“Sorry, guys, I gotta go.”

“What? Why? Did something happen?”

“Yup, bye.”

“Yah, Jeon–”

He didn’t even wait to hear his name being called, instead jumping over the chairs in haste and one beat away from running, just now realizing how fucking stupid he was. His heart fluttering as he knew a little piece of him was with her, but he was also mad. One of his friends had suggested the concert thing earlier tonight, and they had arrived late, staying in the back with their beers and enjoying the music. It had been a small, dark venue, but it suited the band and their heavy sound. Jungkook thought he had been going a little crazy, thinking about her all night with a drink in his hand, so crazy that he thought he had seen her silhouette towards the front. Thought he recognized that flying hair and rocking shoulders, but, no way, right? Then that same girl was lifted onto a shoulder and bouncing with her hand held high.

Devil horns and everything.

Whoever it was tipped her head back and Jungkook swore he recognized that back and those body proportions. Then her hoarse voice entered the meld of screams and instruments and boosted bass.

And he knew.

She was with someone.

Someone that wasn’t him.

He wanted to remind her. Remind her it was him that held her last night, remind her it was his mouth between her legs and his hands on her ass, but mostly he just wanted to remind himself. He wanted to know who it was that she was with but she had emerged from the doors alone. Weird. It made him feel a little better though. Selfish, Jungkook knew, but so he was. He had stayed were he was, at a table with his friends, out of her sight, but she didn’t even look up. Really. She was willing to make him feel all kinds of fucked up and not willing to even look the fuck up.

Okay.

Come get your hair tie.

Yeah, okay. Okay, she wanted to use him. Fine. Fine, he was cool with that. But she left him on read. In fact, he watched her not look back and leave. Wow. And then it hit him and now he was running in the night, past flooding pools of light and wishing to catch a glimpse of mesh sleeves or black leather pants or even those heavy black boots with silver metal heel. Now he was throwing himself onto the train and trying to remember which one was her stop, wondering why he didn’t see the invitation for what it was. Now time was a thief stealing away the perfect moment and he was chastising himself for not chasing that feeling that he wasn’t so sure about.

-

You pulled the clear hair tie out of your ponytail. The squiggly kind that was meant not to leave ceases in the hair. The strands still ended up wild from the headbanging and the windy night. You ran your fingers through it haphazardly, annoyed when your fingers caught a snag. Scowling at your bathroom mirror as you untangled the strands and wondered why the fuck you ever let Jeon Jungkook get in your brain and drive you insane.

Fuck it.

Fuck him.

Your body was still on a high from the concert. Nerves alight, senses simulated, emotions caught in a rollercoaster. You yanked your clear earplugs out and cleaned them off in your bathroom sink, patting them dry with your hand towel and leaving them next to the hair tie.

You looked down at it.

Should throw it away.

Your hand reached out and then there were three loud thumps at your apartment door.

You jerked and backtracked, surrounded by no light except for the one from the bathroom. It was a short walk. You had to step past your heavy black boots, careful not to stub your toe on the metal heel, and peered through the peephole, seeing a large dark brown eyeball because Jeon Jungkook was too damn close to your door.

You yanked it open.

“The fuck–”

And froze.

He was panting, slightly hunched over. Wearing a black racer jacket with white stripes. It lay half off one shoulder, exposing the black tank top underneath and a peek of his right arm tattoos. Slate blue jeans with slight rips on one knee and black boots, but none of that made you stop and stare, not even his furrowed brow and annoyed expression.

“You cut your hair,” you beathed.

It was fresh. Sides cut short, with the top layer long enough to touch his brows. Currently half swept back, probably from running around. A few strands fell by his dark eyes, additional shadows to this harrowed tension. You backed up. He stepped in, one hand catching the doorframe.

Jungkook glared at you and you felt none of that fake frostiness.

“Yeah, I had a hair appointment today,” he huffed. “I didn’t come for the damn hair tie.”

It was all piling together. The moments of hands around each other’s waist, around his wrist, around his hard cock with his low voice in your ear. Don’t stop. The things unsaid and not said. The nights with him and the mornings without him. Backing away from Calvin Klein’s Euphoria still clinging to your sheets. Alone. The music of your youth, hard and rough and full of anger. The strength of a stranger and the cold air of the night, and suddenly you felt alive, alive and needing answers and fucking pissed off at all the shit Jeon Jungkook pulled.

You let him in your apartment, but not in your space.

“How did you know where I was going to be?” you accused.

The door fell shut.

Jungkook cocked his head. Dark eyes finding yours, cornering you with his gaze. You locked stares and did not back down. “Where else you gonna go but home?” he shot back.

You narrowed your own eyes and didn’t bite your tongue.

“How would a guy like you know what home even means?”

-

Goddamn, the one always knew how to hit him where it hurt.

He stopped moving forward.

But his heart was racing fast, remembering all the moments piling together. Lips to lips, hips to hips, and how tightly she held him, as if she wasn’t going to let him go. Not falling for any of the traps he set but drawing him closer and closer each time with that look in her eyes. Alone. Trying to forget how it felt to be held by her even through it was the most secure he had ever been.

Thinking about it now, maybe too much.

His voice wavered in the darkness between them.

“But, would you do it again?”

She paused at his question. Those eyes seemed a little less shadowy, a little less space between them but only for this second. Kept her hands by her sides though, not reaching out to him.

“How much of this was a lie?” she quietly asked.

He answered honestly.

“None of it.”

She scrutinized him. He stayed an open book. Mostly because he didn’t know any other way to cover up except run, can’t stay too late, didn’t know what was the right thing to do when clearly he had done so much wrong, didn’t know how this was going to end but Jungkook damn well knew this was gonna fuck him up for his whole life.

Silence.

That sinking feeling.

“You have time to spend?” she finally asked.

-

“Yeah.”

Must be a dream.

You closed the distance, trying to stay awake, watching his eyes. Waiting for Jungkook to run, as he did so many times before. He always had somewhere to be that wasn’t here. Following his dark brown eyes, the memory of his taste on your tongue, breathing in the clean scent of Euphoria, closer, body heat radiating off him, and Jungkook bit his lip, causing the two silver lip rings to catch what little light there was, like punctured stars in the darkness between you and him.

His lashes lowered.

You looked at him, unfazed.

Raised your hand.

Placed five fingertips on his black top. Thin jersey fabric between skin to skin, and you walked them up his chest, staring into the windows of his soul to find the truth. Your lips formed his name, but made no sound. His own followed suit, breathing your name under a tense exhale, not yet moving, shivering as your middle finger traced his chain necklace.

“You never have time to spend,” you murmured, your breath against his jaw.

He lowered his head, gaze flickering away. Then back, mumbling even though he meant it.

“I’m sorry.”

You raised an eyebrow and tilted your head.

Opened your mouth to chastise him, but all that came out was an exasperated chuckle.

“Don’t do it again.”

You pressed your lips against his.

Jungkook stole your breath and sank into you.

Your hand pressed into his chest and his arms slid around your waist. His fingers splayed out under your crop top, pressing the slinky micro-mesh against your skin and sending a tingling sensation up your spine. He tasted like haste and hunger. Warmth spreading out, squeezing your torso between leather-covered arms, gasping when your tongue flickered against his lips. Slow. Teasing. Dragging it out. Your other hand slid under his jacket, grasping the small of his waist and digging your nails in. He winced, a small whimper, then tried to cover it up by pulling back slightly, but your tongue remained, sliding out further between his open lips.

Your eyes cracked open to see Jungkook’s lashes flutter, his hot moan warming your lips.

“F… Fuck…”

Your tongue retreated.

Exhaled, giving it the weight that made it drift over his neck and chin. He sucked in a sharp inhale, opening his eyes too. A stand-off. His thighs pressed against your thighs. His erection was straining, even in his jeans. You traced your tongue around the perimeter of your lips, seeing him track the movement with bated breath, smiling slightly as his cock twitched.

He narrowed his eyes. “Can you not?”

You cocked one shoulder, smirking with the tip of your tongue at the edge of your teeth. “Why?”

The faintest of eye rolls. “You don’t suck my dick unless I shower first. And I haven’t showered yet.”

“That really sucks,” you hummed.

With just the correct about of intonation hat you had no sympathy. Especially since your hand was sliding over his ass to follow the line of his hip and then further down, hooking your thumb over the waistband of his jeans and molding your other four fingers around the unforgiving bulge. You heard him bite back a sound, pressing his biceps against you in warning, but you merely smiled, leaning forward to graze your lips against his cheek and jaw.

His cock pulsed strongly in your grip as you whispered into his ear.

Low and hot.

“That really sucks.”

Jungkook made a noise between a whimper and a growl.

But you didn’t care, pressing your breasts against his muscular chest. You knew he could feel your lack of bra through the layers of fabric, the confusion spreading over his facial features as you backed up. There was something there, his brain was working that out, but the swimsuit fabric was thin and your hard nipples were large enough for him to barely feel if he really flexed his pecs.

You unbuttoned his jeans.

He didn’t stop you because he would be crazy to.

The tension so tight that neither of you were breathing.

You grinned.

And yanked his underwear and jeans down at the same time.

You probably wouldn’t have tried this shit if it was someone else. Jungkook was habitual creature. The kind where he kept a small tube of hand sanitizer on him at all times, and you would catch him using it all the time, so absentmindedly that it seemed to have become second nature. He would do it after getting off the train. Walking aimlessly. Standing at your front door as you opened it, rubbing his hands together and directly looking at you, cocking an eyebrow.

The first time you noticed this action you thought he was being a creep before you realized it was hand sanitizer he was putting back into his pocket. He was not, in fact, imitating eccentric cartoon villain behavior. Had you in the first half, not gonna lie.

“What?”

It had been a pointed what at that time.

This time it was a sexually charged and gravelly, “What…?”

You squatted down and took his right hand, turning it palm up. Opened your mouth and drenched saliva all over his palm and fingers, the clean citrus scent of his hand sanitizer hitting your nose, hearing him hiss and feeling him tense. The tendons of his wrist stood out, black ink of his tattoos creeping out under the sleeve of the leather jacket. Your tongue lingered against the texture of his calluses along the top of his palm.

Guess he had been working out his frustrations.

“F-Fuck!”

You wrapped his spit-covered hand around his stiff length. Instinct and arousal and the slippery, tight, pleasurable sensation beat out any protest he had about what was happening, firmly and quickly jacking himself off right in front of your face. You calmly watched the glossy, swollen head pop in and out between his tightened fingers. All colors were desaturated due to the dark apartment. Didn’t matter. You had seen it enough times to know what he looked like.

You looked up.

Jungkook was looking down, gasping, the visible strain making his shoulders tremble. Jaw clenched, dark irises glassy, you’re so fucking pretty, shit, and you stuck out your tongue, enjoying the power. He shuddered, gripping himself tighter. Using your left hand, you hooked a thumb under the hem of your shirts, pushing them up, up, over your barely-covered breasts, revealing your hard nipples straining against the tiny black bikini top.

Those large brown eyes went wide, his lips parting.

“Oh, fuck…”

You used your right hand to shove the thin fabric away, scooping your breasts closer together to give him a good view, securing your left hand against your shoulder, easily holding the bunched-up fabric. Grinned, not hiding how pleased you were at his reaction. You lowered your right knee to the ground, stabilizing yourself.

And, now that your right hand was free, you reached forward and smacked his balls.

His black hair whipped in the air as his head snapped back, moaning sharply at the sudden impact. You slapped them again, and again. It was slightly slick from your own spit. Fast and firm. Not hard, since Jungkook hadn’t quite expressed the level he wanted yet, but then his head fell forward, erratic gasps and pupils blown out, squeezing the head of his cock hard, his entire body shaking.

“Harder,” he groaned out, depraved and deep.

You did as you were told, smacking harder and spreading out the hit over the entire area, keeping yourself exposed for him.

“Fuck… f-fuck…”

It was loud, lewd, and wet. His hand moving fast, and your fingertips repeatedly punishing his balls, his hips shaking in ecstasy. The scent of sex mixing with his crisp cologne, deliciously dirtying it. He turned his hand so it was palm up, knuckles down. You spat on his closed fingers and Jungkook moaned even louder, tipping his head back, sweat glistening along his throat.

Spit dripping down.

A bit of a mess, truly.

His head snapped back, fucked-out gaze, his voice rough and hoarse.

“Can… Can you breathe on me…?”

You leaned forward and parted your lips. Keeping eye contact, sliding your tongue out, and exhaled. Slow, heavy, saturated with warmth, leisurely drifting over his fast, tight grip on his hard cock. His eyes squeezed shut, drawn-out groan thundering in his chest. You did it again and his eyes opened, rolling back slightly, his lashes fluttering. You increased the pressure on his balls. The sharp smacks getting louder, wet thrusts, sensual sighs mixing with his desperate whine, and Jungkook tipped his hips down, fixated on watching himself cum onto your tongue and down your throat.

Hot, thick streaks.

You tilted your head back, drinking his orgasm down as you locked eyes with him, electric bliss simmering through your veins. His short black hair was damp with sweat. The strange feeling came back again, somewhere between a dream and reality, yet unmistakable clarity.

Fuck.

You were both sinking.

Shit.

-

“Don’t stop.”

To be honest, Jungkook didn’t like missionary for the sheer reason that she was too damn powerful in this position. Face too damn pretty. Tits too damn perfect. Legs on his shoulders letting him get too damn deep, soft thighs against his hard abs, pussy clenching around every centimeter of his length and not letting up, her hips smacking up every time he thrust down. Okay. It just felt too fucking good. It was a damn problem. He had to grind his teeth and fuck hard so he could slow down and not cum too fast. One would think the second orgasm would be difficult to reach, but one would be fucking wrong. His was rock-hard once she was naked and even harder when she dipped her fingers into her wet pussy to smear her juices over the throbbing head of his cock before he rolled the condom down.

“Are you a virgin or what – fuck!”

She was giving him that smug smirk of hers.

It both pissed him off and made him so damn happy.

A bitch faking it would be imitating shitty porn right now. That was why he never did missionary with any other women before her. It just made him limp. Better it hit it from the back and not have to look at their faces.

God, she was so fucking pretty.

“Always a virgin, only for you,” she snickered.

“I feel so fucking special,” Jungkook growled back, emphasizing each word by pounding her into the mattress.

He did, though.

Somewhere between dream and reality. That strange feeling as he watched her hands grip her pillows, her features softening as she fell into the pleasure, smacking her hips into his, their breathless moans blending together, primal harmony, and he knew he was well and truly fucked because instead of only drowning in the physical sensations of shoving his cock into that tight, wet hole, Jungkook was thinking about how he would wake up and bury his face in her hair the next morning, inhaling the scent of her sweet and smokey perfume, hoping other people could smell her on him, thinking about how lovely it would be to look over and see those eyes roaming over his face, every day and every night.

Well.

Shit.

She clenched around him particularly hard and Jungkook snapped out of his daydream.

Back into his lustful nightdream.

“Harder,” she hissed out, narrowing her eyes.

He was going to gasp, fuck you, but he was doing that already and there was no time to think because she sank lower into the mattress, angling her hips ever-so-slightly, and it was so deep, so good, so tight, losing his mind. Sweat dripping down his chest. He tucked his head back, trying not to get it all over her, bending his elbows and locking his muscles, driving his back and hips into his thrust, bending her in half and neither of them could breathe, closer, clawing up to the high, fast and intense and coiling tight in his chest, sinking down, down, deep down.

Airless.

His orgasm crashed into him so hard that his arms almost gave out.

“Fuck, Jungkook!”

He was sure that the noise that came out of him was not one he wanted to be self aware of. Something between a choked groan and whining moan, lost in the pulsating walls shivering against his jerking cock, wave after wave burning through him. The high seared him like electricity and the aftermath was layers of sparks building over his skin, tingling nerves and forgetting about anything else, suspended in this feeling.

Then his muscles screamed from fatigue and Jungkook realized his back was alarmingly sweaty.

“A… ah, hah…”

She plucked the white hand towel from her nightstand and flung it over his shoulder, falling back into the pillows and gasping.

He was in the middles of wiping his face before he realized that she didn’t have a towel there the first time he came over. But a towel was always there every other time he had showed up after. Either white or dark gray. Always fluffy. He looked down. Her eyes were closed, her pants slowing down to heavy breaths. She hadn’t been looking at him during his epiphany.

She smacked his arm for a second time before he realized she was trying to get his attention.

“Put my legs down, damn…”

“Oh, shit, right…”

It took him a moment to untangle himself. She went to the bathroom, as she usually did. Their clothes were all over the floor. Leather pants. Mesh shirt. The bathing suit top. Panties. His tank top. Black boxer briefs. His jacket and jeans were out there somewhere in the hall outside the bedroom. He noticed a pair of folded gray sweatpants and white shirt sitting on the corner of her room, randomly atop a low bookshelf. He had put them there a week ago. Just in case. She hadn’t moved it.

Jungkook breathed out.

He patted his temple.

I’m in idiot.

Then vigorously dried his hair.

The feeling came back when it was his turn to clean up in the bathroom and he saw his clear hair tie by her sink. A little tangled up from use, next to a pair of clear earplugs. He should probably check his phone and tell his friends that he was fine, but it was somewhere out there in his jeans and Jungkook wasn’t going to go hunting for it right now.

He went back to the bedroom.

Damn, she was so stunning even simply lying in bed. Her gray duvet was only covering her lower half, her forearm draped over her eyes. Amazing breasts. He took a moment to ogle them, perfect nipples and all.

“Stop staring at my tits.”

Well, shit.

She raised her arm and cocked her eyebrow at him.

Not saying anything, but the message came across quite clear.

Jungkook draped the hand towel over his shoulder and picked up the gray sweatpants from the bookshelf, yanking them over his legs before looking up again. Those shadowed eyes were watching him carefully. Surprise but not quite believing. He left the t-shirt and dropped the towel onto the floor, walking over to the other side of the bed and throwing himself down onto the mattress, making her body bounce.

Side eye.

“What?”

He shrugged.

“I’m tired.”

She frowned at him.

“Oh, yeah?”

He nodded.

“Yeah.”

He used his elbows to scoot himself to the pillows, resting his chin on the backs of his hands to look down at her. Her eyes followed the sleeve of tattoos on his right arm. Down and then up. Observing his facial expression carefully.

“Can’t stay too late?” she whispered. Somewhere between a taunt and weariness.

It broke his heart a little, hearing his own words said back to him. He moved one hand and lifted her forearm from her brows, seeing more of her face now. The mood lighting was still on. Points of color dancing over the ceiling above them. They reflected in her eyes even as she faced him.

Jungkook could smell her perfume, soft and sweet and not yet clinging to his skin.

“Can I stay the night?”

Her eyes narrowed. “And why would you wanna to that?”

He shrugged, realizing now that it had never been a no.

“Boyfriends stay over at their girlfriends’ places sometimes. Free breakfast.”

She rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed.

“The shit you pull, Jeon Jungkook.”

He leaned down. Had to fight for the kiss. Hands on wrists. His chest pressed against her breasts. When their lips touched, he could feel her smiling, so Jungkook smiled too and kissed her deeply.

--

masterpost

[goldenwilliamson]

hard launch | leah williamson

pairing: leah williamson x reader

a/n: merry christmas!!! enjoy some christmassy awfc fluff x

summary: reader and leah film their parts in the arsenal christmas gifting video. reader receives a gift that shows everyone who's girlfriend she is.

word count: 1.3k

The Arsenal media team had set up a Christmas tree lined with presents for all the girls to open for a video. You obliged happily, excited about having a present to open before Christmas. Leah however had to be convinced.

"It's bad luck! You can't have us opening gifts before Christmas!" She said, her voice firm.

"Ease up Lee, it's just a little present from the club," you said, rubbing the space between her shoulder blades while silently laughing at your girlfriends commitment to tradition.

"My Mum can't find out about this, she'll have a fit," Leah says, eyeing the tree scornfully.

"Well she might see this video when it goes up," Frimmy says from behind the camera.

You move out of the shot now and watch through the screen of the camera as Leah steps into frame and speaks directly to the lens, "Do I look as awkward as I feel? Because I'm sorry Mum, I don't normally do this before Christmas day, I'm being forced to."

Shaking your head, you and many of the other girls watch on in anticipation as Leah unwraps her gift, and when she pulls out the electric keyboard you all exchange knowing glances. It's no secret that learning piano has been Leah's latest mission, and you more than anyone have been along for the journey. Most evenings now your night was soundtracked by Leah sitting at the piano stool, reading her sheet music and practicing.

When she was preparing for her performance with the BBC orchestra you must have heard her play that Shania Twain song about 200 times before you had to cut her off.

"You've got it Leah, I promise," you had stressed to her.

"I'm just so nervous, I need to know I can do it perfectly!" She demanded, starting to play it again.

"Nope. No. I'm sorry, but I'm cutting you off. It's time for bed," you had said. Even though you were always supportive of her endeavours, you knew she was only stressing herself out with the drive for perfection.

"Baby, please just let me practice it one more time, then bed," she pleaded like a little kid asking for five more minutes of play time.

"Fine. Once more. But I am telling you it's been perfect 98% of the times you've played," you said.

She just waved you away and played it once more all the way through, perfectly of course, and then finally conceded to your request. When you finally crawled into bed together that night you turned towards Leah, murmuring into the darkness.

"I'm starting to get worried that I'll have Shania Twain stuck in my head forever."

Leah giggled but reassured you, "I won't be playing it forever. And trust me, I'm sick of it too."

Now today she was sitting down, playing the little electric keyboard and trying to get everyone to guess what she was playing. You knew straight away it was Adele, because she had played it for you just last night, but it took everyone else a little longer to catch on.

Leah, pleased with her present moved along to allow for the next girls to go through. You stepped in, ready to unwrap your presents with Steph and Kyra, but before you got to pull off the paper one of the Arsenal media people pulled you out.

"We'll get you to open yours on your own, Y/N," they told you. You weren't really sure why, but you trusted their vision and waited for your turn.

When you were finally standing in front of the camera after Steph and Kyra, you felt your present through the wrapping and you could tell that it was a piece of clothing. As you pulled it out, you unfolded it to reveal a t-shirt. And you instantly realised why they'd got you to open it on your own. It seemed to be a fan made t-shirt that had pictures of Leah all over the front as well as LEAH WILLIAMSON printed in large pink block letters running down the side.

You bent over laughing, not even sure if you should show it off to the camera. While you and Leah were officially together, it hadn't really been confirmed publicly. The media team knew that and obviously got you on your own so they could easily leave your clip out of the video.

"Really?" You looked up at the small crew, holding the shirt up next to your face.

Leah, watching on began to laugh now, seeing what you'd been given.

"Best present of the day guys!" She exclaimed.

"So ridiculous," you said as all the girls behind the camera laughed.

"Hard launch," Kyra said, teasing you both.

"Shut up," you smiled, "This won't be going on the Instagram," you said assertively, pointing directly down the barrel of the camera.

"Why don't you put in on, Y/N," Leah suggests.

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" You narrow your eyes at your girlfriend, knowing how much of a kick she would get out of seeing you wearing the top, looking like a fan.

"Go on," Steph urges you.

Begrudgingly, you pull your training shirt up over your head, receiving playful wolf whistles from the girls before you pull your new t-shirt down over your body. When it was on you held your arms out, showing it off.

"How do I look?" You said, giving a little spin as the girls clapped for you.

Leah walked over towards you and held onto your waist, admiring herself on your shirt.

"I bet this inflates your ego," you say, seeing the cheeky sparkle in her eyes.

Leah didn't even say anything in response, she just moved to stand next to you, threw her arm around your shoulder in a very platonic manner and posed towards the camera.

"I love meeting fans," she said, smiling at her own joke.

"Ha ha," you said sardonically, rolling your eyes and nudging her away from you.

"We should get a photo of this though," Leah said, pulling her phone out of her pocket and handing it off to Steph who snapped a picture of you both. When you looked back at it Leah wore a very cocky smirk and looked as if you were posing for a photo with your favourite footballer.

Katie stood over your shoulder to peer at the photo, "Oh that's got to go in a photo dump girls."

"I don't think so," you said quickly, leaving it there. Though you did wear the top around for the rest of the day, finding it surprisingly comfortable, until you tucked it away into your bag before heading home.

You had honestly forgotten about it until Christmas Day when you were scrolling on Instagram in bed after the long day of festivities and you saw Leah had tagged you in a photo. She was right next to you sitting on her phone with a smirk on her face.

"What have you posted?" You asked, clicking onto it and swiping through the various Christmas photos until you saw your own bashful face reflected in the photo that Steph had taken of you in the shirt. The caption read, Best time of year (love my fans @Y/N.Y/L/N) x.

Katie McCabe had already liked the post and tagged you in a comment, President of the Leah Williamson fan club aren't ya? @Y/N.Y/L/N.

"Leah!" You said sharply, looking at your girlfriend in disbelief.

"What? It's a great photo," she said.

"You're fuelling the fire," you said, referencing the ongoing speculation online about your relationship.

"So what? I don't care if people know we're together, do you?" Leah said simply.

You realised that you also didn't care, in fact you would be proud for people to know, so you shook your head.

"Of course I don't," you said, reassuring her that you were okay with this.

"Good, then stop being grumpy about the photo," she said, leaning over to give you a kiss.

"It's such a bad photo! I genuinely look like a teenage fan girl," you laughed.

"That's what makes it so great," Leah says, giggling at her ability to annoy you.

You shake your head and pick up your phone again, feeling confident in your relationship with Leah, no longer caring if people know or they don't. This leads you to respond to Katie's comment with two simple words that are enough to send all the fans spiralling over the small confirmation: Hard launch?

[k-hotchoisan]

(Updated version because I forgot to add one more detail!) Hello! Can I request an ATEEZ smut based on the song I Want You by SB19? Any member will do please?

Here's the Music Video: https://youtu.be/s25Yi6pZnMs?si= ZpzmmV6Yvy1Wa4bZ

And the sound Audio:

https://open.spotify.com/track /16GGH8OF6LISUTTbm8421f?si= 2zklm5olQIKxp2yodrwv1Q

Note: SB19 is a boy group from the Philippines (Which is my country (I'm born from the Philippines by the way haha))), which they became super popular because of the song "GENTO" (Which the song became super popular they did the dance challenge.) (San did that dance challenge! (https://youtu.be/zn8GzEhPqkl?si= qrHRBKWcasrAW2HC))

Thabk you and have a great time. 🌹

~Queennie

Hey Queennie (and also to my fellow readers) Thank you for waiting for this. I was in a rut and not mentally doing well. I hope you haven’t forgotten about me 😭🩷

Also note: YES IVE HEARD ABOUT SB19!! The song got me side eyeing in the best ways possible HAHAHA

The girl in front of him is stunning, but even when he’s all over her, he can’t seem to get you out of his head. So when his phone buzzes and it’s you, he finds himself standing before you with another chance he’s willing to gamble.

Genres/warnings: smut, angst(?) cream pies, orgasms, unprotected sex, fwb to exes to lovers?, Mingi is actually so hung up on you, reconciliation

🩷 Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs

10 months.

10 months since you both stopped talking.

Mingi thought he’d move on by then. The girl in front of him was absolutely stunning, her hands hanging loosely around his neck. She smells like vanilla, but he feels that it’s overpowering. He can’t really see her under the dim flashing lights of the club, but he doesn’t pull away when her hands pull his neck closer to kiss her.

He tastes the fruity cocktail in between her lips, and he can think about is the taste of yours, the feeling of your lips pressed against his. The mere thought of it quickly turns into something he craves. Something he was deprived of for 10 months. Mingi’s hands that were on her waist shift lower down her sides, while she pulls him closer and deeper into the kiss. She thinks they’re getting lost in it. Mingi is definitely lost, though, not in the kiss.

All he thinks about is how your waist feels when he slowly touches her up, and his cock strains against his jeans when he thinks of the way you would moan in his mouth, while your hands run all over him, and how you’d edge him slowly with your hands around his cock while you make him melt against your lips. He’d always pull back breathless and desperate. Always.

His eyes slowly open when she pulls back.

Fuck.

Mingi feels guilty. It’s as if he’s doing something wrong to you. It’s driving him fucking nuts that he can’t see you, and the worst part of it all is that it was his fault. So damn fucked up that he was the one who initiated to stop whatever the two of you had.

“Mingi”, she calls out and his attention snaps back to her. This is his third date with this chick he met online, but for some reason, she simply looks like a stranger. Her fingers tap along his jaw.

“Should we go your place or mine?” She asks as she tucks a lock of hair behind her ear.

Mingi doesn’t even realise he’s half hard. But she probably did. He weighs his decisions. And then he realises he really wants to fuck.

But fuck her? He’s hesitant. He obviously has someone else in mind.

“Not today. I have plans early tomorrow”, he lies. She’s about to pout and try to convince him, until she’s interrupted by Mingi’s phone buzzing in his pants.

“Sorry, give me a moment”, he pauses to take the call. He puts his cell to his ear and his breath is stuck in his throat when he hears who’s at the other end of the line.

“Yunho…? Could you pick me up?”

Mingi blinks. The fact that you broke the no contact meant that you never blocked him even though you said you would. His heart is racing in his ears.

“Hello? Yunho? Are you there?”

It makes him snap out his trance a little.

“Yeah. Where are you at?”

“Uhh, the family mart near xxx club. I’m tryna sober up.”

You’re near. It’s not too far away.

“Okay. I’ll be there in ten.”

“Thanks. Oh, and don’t tell Mingi.”

That’s all you say before you hang up on him. He’s still in disbelief. No, wait, maybe it’s a chance. He glances down at the girl, who’s starting to look impatient.

“Uh. Something just came up. I’m sorry we had to cut this short but it’s kind of an emergency.”

That’s when Mingi realises he’s a fucking terrible liar.

She rolls her eyes, evidently annoyed at the interference. Mingi doesn’t even let her respond before he nods quickly and disappears into the crowd and out of the club. He knows that this will have repercussions, but it’s one he’s willing to risk.

There you are. Still looking absolutely breathtaking even when you’re trying to keep yourself together despite the alcohol. It was as if the 10 months never happened. He’s breathless from almost sprinting to where you were at.

He stands before you, watching the way you’re scrolling through your phone mindlessly, the light from the screen illuminating the tear stains on your cheeks. Were you crying? He takes a breath, wondering how you’d react to seeing him after 10, long, agonising months.

“Y/n.”

Your eyebrows scrunch for a second at the familiar husky voice. You look up, and your mind blanks out when you see Mingi standing right before you.

“Mingi? What the fuck are you doing here? Did Yuyu send you here? Fucking son of a-“

“It wasn’t Yunho,” Mingi cuts you off. “It was me who you called.”

You blink slowly at him, processing what he just said before narrowing your eyes at him.

“There’s no fucking way. I’m pretty sure I blocked you”, you reply with a frown, before opening your call logs, scrolling through and your frown is replaced quickly with wide eyes and disbelief.

Goddamn, did you sober up quick after that. You glance back at Mingi, who has an unreadable expression on his face. You cover your face with your hands, feeling your face flush, but definitely not from the alcohol this time.

Mingi takes a seat beside you, leaning forward towards you. His heart is racing as fast as a race car right now. It’s been forever since he’s this close to you.

“Ugh. This is so embarrassing”, you mutter in your hands before you drop them to your lap.

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about”, he assures, which only makes you more flustered and borderline irritated.

“You could have called Yunho. You didn’t have to come”, you jab, not wanting to look at him, because he’s staring at you so intently. To Mingi, at least, you’re like home. The relationship you both had no label, all because he was so fucking foolish for thinking it would never be more than what it was.

He was wrong, clearly, because now he’s here beside you, and he wouldn’t ask for anything else.

He’s determined.

Determined to make things right, at least.

“I was the one who you called, not Yunho,” Mingi replies, unwavering.

“It was a mistake”, you sigh, feeling the tears pool around your eyes. Even though Mingi is the last person on earth you wanted to see now, you can’t help but crave for him.

“No it wasn’t. Do you know what’s an actual mistake?” Mingi retorts back. His back is straightened, and he wears a frown.

Your heartbeat is pounding in your ears. Probably coming over? Probably seeing you again? Probably you? You remember how it started like it was fresh from yesterday—it started when he had trapped you on the couch, his tall frame looming over yours when he was trying to get back at you for teasing him.

Like a spark, it ignited bright and burned like a forest fire. So intense that you couldn’t get him out of your system. You pretended you were okay with the arrangement even though the flames were burning through your feelings too. Everything about it was so addicting. If this was forest fire, you were the moth. Until three months later, he suddenly called it off.

“We should stop. I’m not sure what I want right now.”

You shut your eyes and your head spins. “What?”

Mingi swallows hard before his words leave his mouth, “whatever I said 10 months ago. That was a mistake.”

You scrunch your eyebrows, staring at Mingi. And it was a fucking mistake. He’s looking at you with those fucking puppy eyes he knows you’re weak for. Well, now you’re completely sober. But you don’t follow. Why the fuck is he telling you all of this now?

“Elaborate”, you challenge, facing the male.

Mingi covers it up very well but you can tell that he’s getting nervous and flustered.

“Calling it off. It was a mistake,” he answers, his fists balling.

You scoff, even though your heart is bursting. No, you’re not surrendering to him. Not yet. “You’re telling me this now? Weren’t you seeing someone?”

“Was”, he replies a little too quickly, a little too enthusiastically. “Then you called.”

There is a drawn out silence between the both of you momentarily.

“Let’s go. I’ll bring you home, y/n.”

You stare at him for a moment as another load of silence follows. You know it’s a bad idea. You know you shouldn’t let him in again.

Mingi seems to pick up on your concern and distance, and especially your coldness. “I won’t do anything to you. I promise. I’ll leave if you want me to. But it’s not safe for you to just be alone here.”

You know he’s right. He may be an asshole for doing what he did but at least you know Mingi is a man of his word.

His hand is outstretched towards you, and you hesitantly let your fingers graze against his palm. Mingi swears he feels electricity shoot down his spine just from your touch, and a simple one—just a soft brush of your fingers has him ready to be on his knees for you.

You let go quickly when you regain composure and follow Mingi to his car.

The ride back is quiet, much to your relief, letting you sober up as you let the cold night wind brush along your cheeks. What you don’t realise is the amount of glances Mingi casts you when he stops at the red light, and he sees the soft glow of your tear stains.

Mingi pulls over, and as before you could unbuckle the seatbelt with your own two hands, Mingi’s big frame looks over you, his face inches away from you. His gaze catches yours and you hold a breath, expecting him to do something.

Which he does—unbuckle your seat.

In truth, Mingi really wants to kiss you. So bad. To feel you up. He’s so starved it’s insane how he survived ten whole months after foolishly breaking off something that shouldn’t even mean anything. Something that was just simply casual.

“I won’t lay a finger on you if you don’t want me to”, Mingi reminds you as he pulls the car door open for you to leave.

At your doorstep, he doesn’t leave just yet though. He haphazardly dumps his keys onto the little tray you have to hold yours. You don’t say anything. After all, this place was once where he resided with you. He knew it like the back of his hand.

Just like you.

It’s a hard feeling to shake, you think. The familiarity rushes back to you, as if the 10 months never happened. You wish it didn’t.

You push past him and he watches you (thankfully) walk a straight line towards your bathroom. He lets you freshen up, and tells himself he won’t stay for too long—just long enough to make sure you’re alright and going to sleep in peace. He shuts his eyes for a while, letting the soft, cold blows of the air conditioner prick his cheeks.

You step out of the shower, and you see him sprawled on the couch, his slow breaths heavy and steady. Despite every bone in your body telling you not to, you take a seat beside him. He stirs slightly before his sleepy eyes meet yours, barely open before he turns away, combing back his hair.

“You shouldn’t drive if you’re tired, Mingi”, you say. “Go take a shower. I’ll pass you your clothes.”

A prick blooms at the corner of your heart when you say that. You never had the courage to contact Mingi to return his clothes when he was staying over. You were sure you had your clothes kept at his place too. Mingi nods as he leaves for the bathroom, leaving you with your web of thoughts. The resentment was boiling whenever you thought about it, and especially when you are in your room, pulling out the lowest drawer and reluctantly reaching out to feel the fabric that Song Mingi wore, some you wore too and you knew he loved it when you did that.

How did you let him lure you into a situation ship like this?

You dump his clothes onto the counter and climb onto your bed. There was no awkwardness, just tension, and a lot of unspoken words. Words that you were determined to pull out of him so you could finally move on in peace.

There he was, leaving the shower looking like a whole new person. His eyes look a lot softer now, accompanying his damp hair when he has his make up removed. He doesn’t get on the bed.

“What are you trying to get at, Song Mingi?” You question, your eyes darting to him, your fingers tugging each other in anxiety. “We weren’t anything to begin with.”

Mingi presses his lips before he speaks, making sure he doesn’t say it wrongly. “I’m not over you.”

He says it with such distinction that you’re almost taken aback. He catches your confused gaze. But he continues.

“I can’t move on.”

You only scoff. “And that’s my problem, because?”

It’s only then he slowly inches towards you, and you’ve never seen it before in his eyes—desperation?

But you hate that you’re feeling the exact same way. Deep inside you wonder if things could go back to the way they were.

“No. That’s my problem, y/n.” Mingi responds, his finger nervously pinching against the bedsheets. “I’m still hung up over you even after all of this.”

It’s a trap. A trap so big and obvious that a bear could fucking see it from a mile away.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said. I was immature and confused about where that would have gone”, he sighs. “Especially during all the days you’d spend with me. And before I realised what I had done, I had already fallen for you, so hard.”

Your eyes narrow.

“Coward”, you spit, knowing you were in the exact predicament, for a spilt second, on the end of being foolish—thinking that it had meant something to him.

His fingers brushed against yours, his eyes wandering to your figure as more tears stream down your face. Why were you even crying again? He’s obviously playing around with you.

Mingi is on the bed now, inches away from you, his hands gently lifting your face, his thumbs brushing away the burning tears.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you. Out of every mistake I’ve made with you, this was the worst.”

You’re lured into his pretty eyes again, like a puppy begging for forgiveness. You grow so weak every time. You press the side of your cheek onto Mingi’s large and warm hands, the comfort of it never once foreign to you. He brushes his thumb against your cheek.

And Mingi then decides to just throw all of his cards in, his heart like sledgehammer as he lets those words slip from his lips.

“Tell me you want me”, Mingi whispers, his fingertips brushing against your neck to hold your gaze with his—so intense, so overwhelming. “And I’ll be yours.”

Such an obvious trap.

“I want you”, you whisper back, looking at him through your wet lashes.

Mingi feels his heart pounding and fireworks explode in his head. He was ready for you to push his hands away, chase him out, tell him you never want to see him again.

Mingi glances down at your lips and then back into your eyes, before you shut yours and let him completely trap you. Rash decision, stupid decision — your mind is screaming at you while you’re tasting the memories Mingi left you in his kiss. His hands slide down your back, letting lie down properly onto the bed. He pauses in to take in the sight of you—so endearing and gentle. He feels that he should be jailed for wanting to ruin it all and keep it for himself. The thought that no other men could have you like this comforts him, for now, at least.

Mingi tugs against your nightwear, lifting it over your head in one swift gesture before he’s back to kissing you with much desperation. There it is. Your taste. The only one that matters for the rest of his life. His cravings will never be satisfied. If it’s you, he wants more, more, more.

He pulls back, watching the way you’re so flushed and gorgeous. He turns you around, letting your shoulder hit his chest and he presses against you, his erection enough to convey how he feels, that’s for sure.

His fingers brush so lightly against your shoulders, the electric running down your back until he reaches your waist.

“I love you. I adore you”, he hums into your ear, melting every and any sense of rationale that remained in you, no answer but soft whimpers escape your lips as he kisses the nape of your neck to your shoulders, his fingers wet with spit, rolling your nipples in between them. Jagged breaths are the only thing that barely keep you intact for now, before your head is on his shoulder, begging for him.

“It’s been awhile. Don’t you think that’ll be a tight fit, baby?” Mingi questions, his boxers now off and his cock pressing hard against your ass.

You squeeze your thighs in response at the thought of his cock just splitting you open like before. It’s so tempting.

You feel something press against your wet folds, and it’s his fingers. Mingi’s free hand coaxes your thighs to open up and relax for him as his fingers slip right into your sopping cunt, and you gasp. Mingi’s arm snakes around your waist, and one of your opened leg is trapped by Mingi—he’s making sure you don’t close, not until he makes you cream and scream everywhere. You palm against his bare erection, pumping him so painfully slow for the sake of listening to his low, breathy groans right in your ear. He never fails to tell you how much he loves it—when you flick your wrist teasingly at make sure he hears the wet squelching sounds. But for now, your concentration is everywhere, especially when Mingi is stuffing you full with two of his fingers, brushing teasingly against the spongy spot he knows that drives you up the wall.

Your eyes flutter open, completely letting go of his cock. “M-Mingi”, you squeal when his fingers not only curl against the spongy area, but also repetitively fucks your pretty hole stupid, cream completely staining his fingers as it only lubes your clit for him to rub his finger on. Your mind is in a haze, only the thought of letting Mingi finger fuck an orgasm out of you prominent.

So good that you try to wipe the drool seeping past your lips. The feeling builds up so quickly, Mingi notices the way you’re clenching around your fingers. The way you’re grabbing onto his arm and pressing your face into his neck, telling him, “cumming. I’m cumming, Mingi. Fuck me”, was enough for him to pull his fingers out, and stuff his cock in—while you were still mid orgasm, clenching and fluttering with his cock in you. Mingi has his eyes rolled back at the sensation of you just clenching around him, giving your clit wet circular movements to send you over the fucking moon. You’re barely down from your high, panting when you realise that Mingi is inching himself inside you.

Your breath is stuck in your throat when his cock is fully in you, all the way to the brim. Mingi sighs in pleasure—this is what he loves. This is the familiarity he could never get tired of—or rather—crave so fucking badly.

Your mind had completely been melted. Sex with Mingi was always so mind blowing. You hate to swear that you would never get enough. His cock is so big and you love how well he fits into you, and his comments of, “fit me so fucking good, baby. I think if I move I’ll just cum”, as he hisses and forces himself to hold back for bursting.

Mingi’s fingers press against your jaw, your attention seeping back to him. He looks at you lovingly before he watches your face contort with pleasure the moment he pulls back, then fucks you with a thrust.

“You don’t know how much I want you”, he whines, even with his cock just pounding into you from below. “I promise I’ll treat you better. Love you better. Fuck you better.”

You’d let Mingi do whatever he wanted with you. That’s the honest fucking truth. You know you were gonna regret this. Everything is screaming at you at one moment and then completely muted when Mingi’s husky voice lulls you over.

“That’s my good girl. Oh god. You’re good at taking my cock.”

Heaven would jealous at how good you’re feeling being fucked by Song Mingi.

You tremble slightly, more tears pooling at the corner of eyes. Not from sadness or melancholy. The only kind that Mingi is able to pull out from you when his cock is deep inside you.

“It’s okay. That’s a good girl. Let it go for me”, he hums into your ear, his arms holding you down despite the fact that your orgasm is hitting you in waves, spots of white bursting into your eyelids as you feel tour cunt convulse against Mingi’s cock, cream just gathering at the base of his dick as he still continues to jut his cock right into you, sending your legs shaking with pleasure. He swears he wants to record your orgasms and seal it somewhere where only he can access it. He could get addicted.

His thrusts turn more desperate. The loud sounds of wet cock fucking a wet pussy echoing around the walls while you’re crying Mingi’s name.

“That’s a good princess”, he assures, rubbing your thighs, even though sticky with fluids before he thrusts himself right into you for the final time, your legs trembling.

“So much. Mingi, that’s so much”, you swallow hard as you feel him pump his cum right into you. Even that feels so fucking heavenly.

“It’s all for you, princess. We can keep going. I’ll always have more for you. So much that it’ll leak out of your pretty hole for days on end”, he utters so softly in your ear. Your eyes are still glazed from the mind-numbing pleasure. The last thing you could remember was a kiss planted on your forehead before a muffled “Goodnight”, before you completely doze off, your worries saved for the next day.

Morning kicks in, and your eyes are barely able to open, the exhaustion weighing on you from the previous night, so does the realisation. Fuck. You rise up, your hand on your forehead. Then you realise another thing—the other half of your bed is empty. You reach out to your phone on the nightstand—no messages either. Frustration builds in your body. But this time, it was your own foolishness to blame you think to yourself, as you slide off the bed, the soreness of your lower body a burning reminder of what transpired the night before. Instead of the bitterness that lingers in your mouth, you wonder if that should have been your closure.

Freshened up, you walk to your kitchen area to grab a meal, and your eyes widen.

Mingi stands there, pulling the plastic cover off. He pauses briefly when his eyes meet yours.

“Hey. Good morning”, Mingi greets, his morning voice dropping an octave lower. He seems completely fine, as long as you aren’t able to hear his heartbeat going at miles per hour. Would you just chase him out? Would you promise to never see him again? His mouth is dry again, even though he’s had a couple of glasses of water thinking about what to say to you.

“I bought takeout. Come and have some”, he gestures. You don’t question it, taking the seat across him. You follow his movements—the way he settles the utensils—handing you yours first, before he pours you a cup of water. Then he sits himself comfortably.

There is another moment of silence before you speak up.

“About last night…”

You see the grip on his chopsticks tighten.

“Wasn’t a mistake either”, he says, his gaze trailing the food before he meets yours.

“Is it?” You reply, shoving a couple of egg rolls into your mouth. You didn’t expect that answer from him.

“I thought I could move on. But no matter how many girls I came across, it was always you. No one felt as right as you did. I was scared before, but I’m not now.”

You can’t meet his eyes. You’re unsure if it’s because of swirl of emotions that have started bubbling, or because you’ve denied it for so long, that it’s beginning to slowly bleed out.

��Let me make it up to you. For the 10 months”, Mingi professes. “If you’ll have me.”

You finally are able to hold his gaze. Your mind is swimming is dopamine, but you’re not about to let him have the satisfaction, just yet. A small smile curls at the corner of your lips.

“Then you better do a good job.”

[shenachigans]

IN MY DREAMS | Cassandra Kiramman

PAIRING: Cassandra Kiramman x Fem!Reader

CW: angst BUT bittersweet ending, old people wlw (Cassandra is in her mid-50s and reader is in her early 50s), tragic-ish love, 1950s Hollywood inspired in terms of homosexuality-ish, mentions of homophobia, give them a break they’re both old people stuck with regrets and customs of the past :( I guess you can say they’re both closeted, but Cassandra’s sexuality isn’t labeled she just loves reader, sort of 2 perspectives: first one is reader, second is a mix of both but mostly Cassandra’s, both are too depressed and heartbroken to notice their love is reciprocated, back in the old day women are expected to marry a man, reader is also a matriarch of her own family like Cassandra, most likely ooc Cassandra

SUMMARY: Cassandra loves you back, and you love Cassandra back: A confession made after decades of mutual depressive pining.

A/N: It’s giving Evelyn and Celia from The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo in a way, I don’t know why. I’ve been hyper-fixating on one of the Arcane milfs, Cassandra Kiramman, and Arcane in general lately. Don’t get me wrong, Caitlyn Kiramman is a FINE woman. I love her and her girlfriend, Vi, too, but her mother is for me to ask for her hand in marriage. PLEASE ONE CHSNCE. Oh, and I hope you shed tears as I did writing this, and if you haven’t figured it out, yes, this is based on the song “In My Dreams” by Red Velvet. I suggest you listen to it on loop while reading. Immerse yourself, dear reader. I want tears shed suffer like I did h/j (not really). Anyway, enjoy!

WORDS: 2,169

(FANFIC IS UNDER THE CUT!)

“In my dreams, you love me back,” is a mantra you’ve said to yourself all your life when you met her as a little child yet exposed to the harsh reality of the world. Her name was Cassandra Kiramman, the young scion you knew was now the head of her clan and a respectable Councilor of Piltover. 

Those beautiful blue eyes still shined with ambition, pride, and even greed, but you never thought of her differently for those qualities, rather, you respected them as they helped her become the woman she is today. Her graying hair and the fine lines on her features prove the years she has been on the top, something you were never able to achieve, but that’s okay because she still kept you around, her childhood best friend. 

You don't know why, but you’re grateful. You were nothing compared to her, with only your family name keeping you afloat. Yet, that family is not comparable to the Kirammans, the family you wished to be part of because that would mean you belonged to her, something you’ve always wanted but will never have. 

It's tragic, really, for the woman you love only regards you as a dear friend, either blinded by her ambitions to notice or never pointing it out despite knowing. You hoped it was the latter, to let her know you loved her, to let her acknowledge your love and devotion even if she would never reciprocate them because you were only a friend. Nothing more can happen between you two, especially not when she has a family of her own with a husband and daughter.

Caitlyn was someone you considered your own, having been present in her life since she was born. You remember the first time you saw her in Cassandra’s arms. The little one grasped your gloved finger with resilience, smiling up to you with the same blue eyes her mother owned; the same eyes you fell in love with. She grew up to be a stark contrast to her mother in terms of personality despite being the physical copy of the woman you love. However, stubbornness is what they share and you find it endearing. 

What would life be like if you and Cassandra had children as lovers? But that wouldn't happen. Never in a million years, never in the multiple lives you lived and would live in. Despite the one-sided love you share, you will always love her, even if it hurts more than any physical pain could inflict on your body, because "In my dreams, you love me back." 

You would settle for friendly love, something strictly platonic, a rock Cassandra can lean on in a time of need, even if your mind told you multiple times it was time to stop, that it was time to let her go and move on to live a happy life where she wasn't your world. But it’s difficult when she was your world when she was the one who gave you light. You couldn’t let her go, and now it has been decades, facing a reality far different from your dreams.

“Do you still plan on getting married?” Cassandra asked out of the blue, a cup of tea in hand, clasped between nimble gloved fingers in the privacy of the Kiramman residence garden. She had prepared your favorite tea, personally brewing it to your liking just to see that satisfied expression on your face.

Cassandra studied your features to see how time had treated you with your graying hair and fine lines. You still looked as beautiful as the day she first met you when you two were children. A glimpse of your bright smile had rocked her world as a young scion, who focused on nothing but her duties for the future. The way your eyes now crinkled with wings when you smiled, she found it endearing.

She wanted to remove her gloves and reach out to feel your cheeks with her bare hands, to feel the warmth of your skin on hers and brush it so lovingly with her thumbs as she pressed her forehead against yours, but she withheld her inner turmoil with a masked expression. Touching you so intimately felt inappropriate considering you two were only good friends.

You raised a brow as you placed your teacup on the saucer, setting it on the table. A small amused chuckle left your lips. “What do you mean? I fear I’m too old to marry, Cassandra. If you’re worried about who will inherit my clan, I assure you, my niece is more than fit for the role. Even if I did marry and have a child, the little one would be far too young and inexperienced to carry such a burden on their shoulders,” you say with a smile, and you miss the way her lips frown slightly at your answer. 

Cassandra watches as you sip your tea, the way you elegantly hold the cup and present yourself before her with manners unmatched by royals is sickening. The person before her was not the same person she knew and fell in love with years ago. Who was this? Where was the person who always brought a smile to her face and made her heart swell? Why did it feel like you were slipping away, despite your proximity?

She had been contemplating these questions for the past three decades. You had built barriers around yourself, and even she couldn’t get through them to see the real you and what you were feeling. She didn’t want the woman she loved to hide behind a mask, but she never dared ask because she was scared. She was scared she couldn’t help you, she feared that her love would drive you away with disgust and contempt. 

A woman loving another was unacceptable when you and Cassandra were younger. You two have seen the consequences of people who tried to fight for it. It was seen as crude and you two were both heirs to your respective families. She couldn’t risk tarnishing your family name and your safety, and she couldn’t risk her position, that would mean she would never be allowed to see you again, so she kept you close as much as she could without raising suspicion, but she also kept you at an arm's distance albeit reluctantly. 

All Cassandra needed was to be by your side as much as she allowed herself. She yearned for more, but that would be selfish, that would mean disregarding your privacy and space, and she was seen as selfish since she was on the Council, but she would never put herself first when it came to you. 

“I don’t think you are too old, and yes, I am worried about who will succeed you, but… that wasn’t why I was asking,” Cassandra said carefully and averted her gaze onto her tea, the liquid reflecting her face. She saw the creased eyebrows on her features, and how her eyes seemed to have glazed with unshed tears. She can feel your curious gaze on her and she blinked profusely to calm her eyes. She didn’t want to worry you for suddenly crying. “Are you not lonely?” she asked as she looked at you expectantly and the way you smiled felt like a knife to her heart. It was rueful and she hated it.

“I don’t need to marry to avoid loneliness, Cassandra,” you say. “Marriage was not something I particularly wanted, though it was needed to keep appearances but I survived as a spinster. I was surprised Mother didn’t nag me too much for not finding a husband and bearing children. May she rest in peace. Father didn’t really have a say, but he told me that marriage…” You look into her blue eyes. “…wasn’t the only thing that binds you to the person you love.”

Cassandra’s eyes widened at the revelation. What you said was true, that truth was what allowed her to marry Tobias and have Caitlyn with him for the clan’s sake. But the way you gazed into her eyes, it felt like those words were meant for her. She couldn’t be seeing things, could she? Times have changed… Would it be okay for her to say it? To hope that you love her like she loves you? She steadies her breath and places her teacup and saucer on the table. It’s now or never. 

If she can’t say it at least once in both of your lifetimes, does she even deserve to love you? 

Cassandra could feel your gaze as you watched her with furrowed brows when she suddenly discarded her gloves and stood from her seat across from you to stand by your side. Her heart was hammering in her chest when you craned your head to look up at her as she towered over your sitting figure. She could tell you were confused, maybe even shaken, when she just stared at you, but she saw how you widened your eyes when she slowly and gently cupped your cheeks with her bare hands and stroked the apple of your cheeks with her thumbs. 

She saw part of the real, old you in your usually guarded eyes, it gave her a flicker of hope and her lips started to tremble when you didn’t push her away and instead placed your hands on hers. She had wanted to hold you like this the moment she realized she loved you. 

“Cassandra, what are you—” you say with worry but you cut yourself off when you see the tears that swelled in her eyes. This wasn’t like Cassandra, the normally poised and dignified woman you loved. It reminded you of the rare times she would become reckless like Caitlyn when you two were younger. 

She never told you, but those were the times she felt the most human, not because she didn’t have to put up fronts, but because she could be human with you without judgment and expectations and show herself to the person she loved, albeit having to limit herself from her insecurities.

“I never told you this, I couldn’t dare let you see this side of myself, but I can’t keep it hidden anymore. I have dreams I think about all the time. In my dreams, there was you and I…” 

Cassandra paused and averted her eyes from you by lowering her head, gazing at the necklace she gave you as children with a pendant that matched the color of her eyes to keep a part of herself with you at all times. She can’t believe you still held onto it after all these decades. Did you cherish it that much?

“...We were lovers. In that world, I could love you freely without the duties and expectations placed upon me and the judgment of the world. In that world, I could call you ‘my wife,’ ‘my dearest,’ and ‘my love.’ I could be by your side to love and dote on you. We would have as many children as you wanted and have little versions of ourselves running around the Kiramman or your family’s residence. In that world, we would grow old together, watch as our family grows, and leave a mark of our love even as we take our last breaths…

I love you, and… In my dreams, you love me back.”

Cassandra hadn’t realized she was crying until your hand cupped her cheek, your thumbs wiping the falling tears. Your touch was so tender and she leaned into it, to the warmth of your hand, and hesitantly met your gaze. 

Oh.

You were crying too. She didn’t want you to cry. It pained her to see you so hurt and in tears, but you were smiling, it was a smile she hadn’t seen in forever, the smile she fell in love with. She was taken aback when you stood from your seat and brushed her silver hair to the side before pressing your foreheads together, your noses brushing each other’s. She closes her eyes when you do and basks in your proximity and warmth, her arms encircling your waist. Her heart swells when you speak.

“I also have the same dreams, my love,” you say, resting your hand on her shoulder as you continue to stroke her cheek with the other. “In my dreams, you love me back. I never wanted to wake from them, and I prayed that you would stay forever so that we would be happily forever after.”

You never knew she also felt this way and that she would admit her feelings for you, it makes your heart flutter. You may never have each other exactly like you would want in both of your dreams, but the admission that she loved you back was all that mattered, and you can tell she felt the same which puts a smile on your face, the smile she always brought to your face when you were children. 

“I love you, too, Cassandra. I’m happy my dreams have come true.”

© shenachigans — do not plagiarise, translate, repost, or copy.

[watchmegetobsessed]

SUBTLE

A/N: this idea got stuck on my mind and i thought i would just type it out so here we are!

WORD COUNT: 1k

SUMMARY: Harry's not so subtle way of hinting that he is in the mood.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

There are celebrities that never wear the same outfit twice. Some keep them tucked away in their closet, probably hoping one day they will be displayed in museums and some just simply get rid of them once the clothes are off of their bodies.

Well, your boyfriend is definitely not one of these people. He is the king of wearing something over and over again until it’s totally ruined and can’t be worn again. The best example is his crusty Vans he always wears to the maximum before even considering buying a new one. When Harry likes something, a shirt, a hat or a pair of pants, he is the biggest outfit repeater and that’s something you love so much about him, because it’s so mundane, so down-to-earth.

His most worn shirt however is a surprising one. Well, not to you, because he wears it because of you so whenever you spot him sporting it, you know what his intentions are.

It’s a quiet Sunday afternoon, it’s been raining all weekend so you’ve spent most of it snuggled up at home, watching movies, cooking and spending some well-deserved quality time together after such a busy week. For the past hour you’ve been glued to the couch with your favorite chunky blanket and a book that you haven’t gotten around to read during the weekdays. Your tea is set on the side table, an hour ago it was steaming hot, but now it’s more like room temperature and half of it is also gone. A pair of old sweatpants has been your uniform since yesterday and today you paired them with one of Harry’s many graphic shirts. 

Speaking of your boyfriend, you haven’t seen him for a while now. Last time he mumbled something about having a riff stuck on his mind before he wandered off into his home studio. It’s been radio silence since then and you got to focus fully on your fantasy book. 

Harry emerges from the studio after about one and a half hour that he spent strumming away on his guitar, recording a possible new hit song for his next album. Making music usually makes him feel two ways. First one, which happens more often is hungry. His creativity takes a lot of energy and he is a big boy, he needs food to fuel his body and brain as well. The second one however… that’s what causes him the most issues, especially when he is not recording at home and this is what he feels right now as well.

He’s horny.

The song he worked on was heavily inspired by you and the intimate moments he spent with you in the past months and reliving them definitely got him worked up, that’s why he had to put down his guitar and find a solution to his little situation.

But instead of just looking for you, he sneaks into his closet and grabs the shirt he’s been using with ulterior motives lately. He gets rid of his hoodie and then pulls the other shirt over his head before checking himself in the mirror, his eyes scanning over the “Sex” sign over his chest. He can’t help but smile at the sight of the shirt he wore on SNL, which was such an iconic appearance.

He wanders out of the closet and then the bedroom, looking for you with his teeth sunk into his bottom lip to hide his cheeky smirk. He finds you right where left you before his studio session, snuggled up on the couch with your book, your lips moving as you ready but it’s hard to notice. Your eyes are scanning over the lines, one hand holding the book, the other one playing with the necklace he got you for your birthday two years ago. You look adorable and cozy, but he’s also extremely eager to get under that blanket and between your legs.

Clearing his throat he walks closer, failing to pretend like he is just aimlessly wandering around. He peeks at you and narrows his eyes when he sees you haven’t even acknowledged his presence.

“Hey baby,” he speaks up, hoping to catch your attention.

“Mm, hi, what’s up?” you ask, but your eyes are still glued to the page in front of you. 

“Not much. Just checking in on you.” Squaring his shoulders he takes a deep breath before exhaling dramatically, his palms smoothing over the shirt, especially the word written across his chest. 

“I’m good. Did you finish recording?”

Still no peek at him and he is starting to get frustrated.

“Yeah,” he nods and clears his throat again, standing right in front of you at this point, towering over you.

“Good,” you hum.

You’re still ignoring him and now he is determined to have your pretty eyes on him. A series of coughs follows that finally forces you to look up from the book, mostly because you fear that he has a sore throat, judging from the coughs, but when you catch a glimpse of him you see how he’s puffing his chest so you see what shirt he is really wearing. 

“Huh,” you smile, putting your book aside. “Are you trying to tell me something?” you ask, a smirk stretching across your face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shrugs, running his tongue across his lips.

“Do you happen to want to have sex?” you tilt your head to the side.

“Oh! Now that you’re asking, yes. Yes, I absolutely do!”

You can’t hold your laugh back as he basically throws himself at you, his lips already kissing you all over your face as he wedges himself between you and the back of the couch.

“You’re so subtle,” you giggle against his lips, pulling the blanket over the both of you while his hands are already wandering under your shirt.

“That’s my middle name,” he grins. “Harry Subtle Styles.”

“What happened to Edward?”

“Gone. He’s dead,” he chuckles before his lips get busy with yours. 

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[dawnoftime22]

"...and it just did."

| W.M ( -> N.R)

Undeserving of a Love Like Yours, Chapter 5

Chapter Warnings: A very emotionally packed chapter, relationship problems, cheating, arguing, anxiety, overthinking, andd...just be prepared.

Summary: The truth unfolds itself easily on a special day.

Series Summary: When you're stuck in a complete hole of confusion and hurt with the one you thought you loved most, a certain redhead finds her way into your life.

Word Count: 8.7k (...oops)

Category: Angst.

A/N: this chapter has been eeeeverywhere with me. I wrote it in the car, at work, in my bedroom, and even at a hotel room. but, I hope you all enjoy<3 it's a whole lot, so it was quite difficult to finish, but february's over and I have more free time again!

also theres a playlist for this series out now :] in case you need something to listen to while reading. be careful while scrolling the songs to avoid just bits of teensy spoilers<3

Series Playlist

| Started on 10/01/2024, 12:16 PM |

| Finished on 05/03/2024, 3:45 PM |

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | N.R Masterlist

<- Chapter 4 Chapter 6 ->

"What is there to say?"

|——————————— ᗢ ———————————|

You drag your feet across the wooden floorboards, making your way towards the kitchen. Here it is again, the same routine. But yet this time, you see a sticky note left on the marble counter, illuminated by a dim overhead lighting.

You furrow your eyebrows, but go over to read it anyway, the bright color a big difference to the white counter. 'might not be home until tomorrow,' was written on the piece of paper. Your heart didn't drop as much anymore. Your shoulders only droop a little, as if just a teensy bit more weight had been added.

A quiet breath leaves your mouth. Your hand picks up the sticky note and scraps it up within your palms, throwing it off to a nearby trashcan in the kitchen. Who else needed to read it anyway? It was only for you. Only for you.

You shook your head of the remaining thoughts you had of her, but she couldn't quite leave your mind at least once. Always there. Always lingering. As if you had been cursed. But in honest truth, the only curse you had upon you was the spell of love.

Today was a special day. Key word on the was. Some type of hope swirling in your heart maybe had you looking forward to this day, but all of it had just gone down along with the piece of paper in the trash. Your eyes also flicker to it once more, seeing the many other colored paper sitting scrunched up with the one from just now. At least she had the decency to still leave notes.

But, today was, of course...your birthday. And out of all the people, your favorite person was certainly not present. Maybe she had forgotten, you thought. Maybe she just didn't care enough this year...no, how could she?

You snap yourself out, having stared off at the sunlight shining in through the windows. You go to the fridge to see what was still in there. A bitten sandwich from last night, and some leftover chickens, but your lip forms a line and you close it, your hand dropping off to your pocket to retrieve your phone.

It was currently 9:45 AM, the digits frozen still on the same numbers until the full sixty seconds passes by. Your mind was in a haze, but your stomach was empty and it urged you to find some food. Were you just going to go out by yourself? Your body seemed to stop you from even going to the living room. Take-out was an option, but instead you simply laid your phone down on the counter, it making a small noise, the textures clashing.

You put your head in your hands, covering up your face and sliding your fingers across your skin, your palm cupping your own cheeks as a way to get a grip of yourself.

Your phone came up with a notification of your calendar, getting out with a reminder of your birthday. What great timing. You clear it off your screen and unlock your phone, roaming the apps.

Just as you were about to push yourself off the counter and grab the last of the food in the fridge, your screen changes without you touching anything. The contact name came up with...Carol?

Your face relaxes a bit and your thumb hesitantly goes to pick it up rather than tap on the red button, the ringing going away. The phone goes along with your hand when you put it against your ear.

"Hey Carol." You say casually, trying your best not to sound too questionable, as it wasn't usual that she'd call you. You hear some distinct voices whispering in the background of her side, one sounding like a young kid.

"Hey, just wanted to call and um...check in on you?" Her voice ended up sounding questionable instead, and your face goes into a confused reaction, although a smile growing on your lips. You let out a small chuckle, your eyes roaming the space of the room as you thought of your words.

"'Check in on me?' Come on, you rarely do that." Your hand goes to grab a nearby notebook that's been left on the counter, saved for recipes. "What's up?"

"I just wanted to say happy birthday to you. Maria reminded me and she and Monica got me to...call you." You assume she had a small pause in her sentence because she was looking over at the other two people in the room with her, which was who you had heard earlier.

"That's nice of her. And thank you." The pages of the book was soft against your hands, your fingers tracing and fiddling with some as you smiled softly at the thought of Maria scolding Carol for having forgotten.

"Well that, or, I would probably not have any pancakes for myself right about now." She says, her mouth nearly sounding like it was full. You'd guessed it was.

"Even though you were threatened to wish me, thank you." You add on, laughing gently as you did. There was a page you landed on in the notebook with a cookie recipe. One, specifically where you and Wanda had made together, having shared a wonderful memory that day.

You could feel your heart beat within your chest, the pace going quicker as your eyes looked over the words written on the paper that was accompanied with smiley faces and hearts here and there.

The smile on your face had definitely faltered. You take in a deep breath, letting it out once you let yourself close the book. Carol's voice snaps you back to reality, having remembered you were talking with her.

"I'm kidding, I would've called you up either way. Really though, how are you?" Your teeth sank down on your bottom lip, probably enough to puncture the skin or leave a small mark, but you let it go once you talked.

"I'm...fine. Other than sitting in my house alone not knowing what to do than sulk in bed or contemplating my life choices." With that answer, the blonde definitely knew something wasn't entirely right. She stays quiet for a while, perhaps thinking.

"Do you wanna go out and hang at the bar? We can do some karaoke if you want that as a birthday present." She offers, and the attempt makes you smile weakly. She never really knew what to do for your birthday, not being the type to do birthdays more than just a simple wish to them. But for you, she'd offer to hang out, which is what you love to do most of the time.

"Sorry, but I don't really feel like partying or anything right about now. Well, tempting, but, I just wanna relax." You say quietly, sliding the recipe book back to its original place.

"Okay, then..." Carol trails off as her mind tries to come up with some more ideas. You were about to think she was going to just hang up sooner or later, but then you hear her voice continue with a more interesting take.

"There's the mall." You raise your eyebrows. She couldn't see you with you being over the phone, but she just knew you were probably surprised. And you were.

"And what would we do there?" You ask, your mind unable to conjure up the slightest of an imagination of going to the mall with her in a casual situation.

"Well, we could grab some ice cream, buy some things, go to the arcade, go...I don't know." She suggests, just nearly giving up. She wasn't good at this type of stuff really, she's simply basing it off of the times she and Monica hangs out together. You could at least picture the straight line her mouth forms when she finished her sentence, and you had to resist a laugh.

"Ice cream does sound really good." Your mind opened a little with the simple thought of ice cream. Even though the comfort of your bed and the couch seemed nicer, it's not a lot of times she ends up inviting you to hang out like this anyway.

"The mall it is." The blonde says, and you can hear some clatter over the phone. She had finished her pancakes, you supposed.

"Am I driving or...?" You trail off, fiddling around with your fingers and sliding them against the marble counter, the coldness a difference to the sunlight coming from the window.

"I'll pick you up." You then hear the sound of keys, and you couldn't back out anymore. She was driving to your house to grab you, and it'd be impolite to cancel.

"Okay." You say under a breath, feeling heavier with every second that goes by. The guilt and anxiety was eating you up, but the date on the calendar just next to the recipe book had your mind getting out of the thoughts.

"I'll be there in 10. Please don't be glued to your bed when I arrive," She said, to which you let out a quiet chuckle. You couldn't really tell if it was in a stern way or a soft way, but it definitely pushed you a little more to get up and change your clothes.

"I won't. See you here." You say gently and the end tone sounds out, making you pull your phone away from your ear.

With that decided, you push yourself off the counter, slowly going off to the bedroom. The closet opens easily, revealing the same clothes you see every day. You shuffle through some of the hanged shirts, looking at what to wear.

Soon enough, you pull one out. It easily slides off, brushing against the many other shirts within the closet. Your eyes don't linger on the other ones that weren't yours, and you close the door after grabbing everything else.

Later on, you get finished up with changing your clothes, and now you were only waiting for Carol to arrive. There was something that prickled within your heart, like a roses stem with thorns, a worry that maybe she changed her mind and she actually didn't want to hang out with you. Maybe she was only doing it out of sympathy? But that can't be true. What about all the times she's driven you back home when you got a little too many drinks?

...You take a deep breath and turn away from the wall you were staring off into like it was the abyss. Instead your hands checked that you had everything on you, like your phone, keys, and your watch.

Then, the sound of a car pulling up at the front of the house made you look up, your eyes carefully watching the windows. You see a Nissan outside, and it was obvious it was Carol arriving.

Quickly, you got off the couch while your phone made sound, definitely a text message from her that she's arrived. You open the front door, going outside. Her blonde hair could be seen clearly through the car windows, confirming the person in your head.

You make your way to the car, opening the front passenger door. "Hey," you say gently, going in and and closing the door along with you.

"Hey." your greetings were simple, a usual thing to happen. Carol glanced at you while you buckled in, giving you a small smile before starting to slowly position the car back to the roads.

The car had some old soft rock playing, filling up the quietness. It also had you already moving just a little to the beats, staring out the window as she drove you both to the mall. She's always had good playlists. Sometimes you'd even have an urge to ask her to give you some of her cds.

"So, what are you aiming to steal my money for today?" She jokes after a song, her eyes focused on the roads. You let out a small chuckle, looking over to her.

"I'm not letting you spend your money on me for something that isn't a drink." You shake your head, fiddling around with your fingers in your lap. The blonde notices it when her eyes flicker over to you for a second before returning to the roads.

"It's your birthday, Y/N. You have to have a little fun. Let loose," she says, and you raise an eyebrow, turning your head to her. The last two words were new, at least when it comes out of her mouth.

"Maria's words, not mine." she quickly stated, making a smile grow on your face. You stop fiddling with your fingers and instead intertwine them with each other, your gaze going back to the window.

"Come on, any ideas?" The car stops at a red light, and she looks over to you. You stayed quiet in thought, although nothing much came up. She sees only the side of your head until you made your decision.

"We'll do yours," you say, having unable to think of anything. Your mind was clouded over. Honestly, a part of your body just wanted to lie in bed hopelessly the whole day, but something else pulled you.

"Then it's settled," she nods, the steering wheel turning with her hand as she made a right. You think over her words on the phone call earlier, 'Ice cream, buy some things, arcade', and you start to get just a bit more excited.

"Ice cream first?" You ask, looking to her with hope. She furrows her eyebrows and makes a face to you, and your lip forms a tight line, like a child asking for something and getting scared of the answer.

"Of course ice cream goes first." The car goes forwards once more, the light having turned green. You cheer quietly, and she gently shakes her head at your antics. At least she got you to release the emotional tension you had in your body. Even if just a little.

The rest of the car ride consisted of singing and dancing, the conversations being light. The weight on your shoulders got lifted up just a little bit more. When you were about to arrive and she was going to park, 'Please Mr. Postman' started playing and your face brightened at the intro.

She raised her eyebrows at your quick happiness at the simple song, but smiled and laughed at how fast you got into singing it. Really, it's always been a main song for whenever you hanged out, but it's been so long since she saw you sing it, she got surprised. Soon enough though, she sang with you, the two of you moving in your seats to the words.

When the song ends, she turns off the engine and both of you get out the car. The parking lot wasn't all that filled up, so it was a chance there weren't many people in the mall.

She puts on her cap and walks to the entrance with you behind her, the noise of crows and other birds made sound, echoing from somewhere afar as you made your way to the sliding doors.

The cold air of the mall quickly greeted you like a slap of reality in the face, like waking yourself up with a cold shower after laying in bed for too, too long. A way to make you feel more alive.

The ice cream shop wasn't far, and with how little amount of people were here, the two of you got to go to the counter right when you arrive to order your preferred flavour.

Your eyes watch the ice cream get put on the cone, and you do a little dance when your hand got ahold of it, while Carol was giving her money to the cashier of the total cost.

The cashier smiles at the two of you and says their 'thank you', making you smile back before turning around, Carol easily catching up with you from your slow walking.

The two of you walk and enjoy your ice cream, the coldness definitely making you more free feeling. There were clothing stores, shoe stores, little snack shops, and every other thing you could ever imagine. You passed by each one though, but you did point out some cool looking things here and there to Carol.

Soon enough, you come upon a pet shop and your eyes widen, your lips matching with a smile. You walk towards it, wanting to look at all the animals. Carol had to walk faster so she didn't lose you.

There were parrots, cats, dogs, hamsters, fishes, bunnies, and even some lizards. Your mouth was agape as you stared at some of them, but you walk over to the cats.

"Aw, look!" You point at an orange cat, who's sitting patiently with it's tail smoothly flicking back and forth as it watched people pass by.

Carol was looking at the dogs until you called, making her go over to you to see what you were melted at. As if you hadn't already from the other little animals.

"This one is so cute." You lean forward and capture the attention of the cat, making it stand up and walk closer to you.

Carol's head tilted slightly and her eyes squinted as she inspected the info of the cat. The name, the breed, the date and place of birth... "...Goose. Huh."

"I want to take it home." You blurt out as you let the cat follow your hand around, and its head moves here and there instead of its body. It was a playful cat, a paw going up here and there to reach out to you.

"You should get it if you love it that much." Carol says, with her usual deadpan voice that you honestly find amusing. Although, for this, your face turns deadpanned instead and you stare at her, making her raise your eyebrows at you. It was nearly a staredown.

"Danvers, I cannot take care of a cat...let alone myself." You gesture to the cat, and it looked at you questionably. Your shoulders slump a little at the last words of your sentence, and Carol frowns a little.

"I'm sure it'll be able to help you cope or something." Really, she was thinking in her head of surprising it to you as a birthday present for later tonight when she sends you home.

"Why don't you get it? I think Monica would go crazy." You glance back at her, and she purses her lips, staring at the cat. It was the most vibrant color of all the other cats.

"And Maria would go crazier." She said, turning to you for a second but then going back to the entrance of the shop instead, perhaps making her escape from you flipping the table to her.

"You can convince her." You say, the volume of your voice going up a little considering she's farther away. You take a quick glance back at the cat, hesitating to leave, but going away to catch up to the blonde.

"No, now, we are going to the arcade." You laugh when you hear her stern voice, although something in you knew she had a thought about getting it.

You looked around as you walked, seeing the arcade not far away now, the place lit up by machines and screens. But something caught your eye and made you look twice.

Were you dreaming? Well...having a nightmare? You felt like so. Your body definitely didn't react in a good way. Honestly, your heart felt like you were about to have a heart attack with how fast it was beating.

Carol's hat made shade for her face from the sun coming through the mall's glass roof as she walked. She stops along with you when she noticed, confusion filling her face at the sudden stop.

When she follows your eyes to where you were looking though, immediately her eyes widen and her face was in complete shock just as yours were.

A brunette, green eyes...green jacket...

It couldn't have been.

You look closer on the face, and it was. And her hand was not swinging by itself as she walked.

It wasn't with your hand either, because you were plenty of feet away from her.

It was with someone else. Something in the back of your mind felt like they were familiar, although you couldn't even dare focus on that.

Your whole day-- well, your whole world fell apart right then and there. Just like that.

You can feel your heart beating up to your ears, and it felt like time stopped. And not in the good way. Oh, you wish. You wish it was the time you saw her green eyes staring back at you and the whole world only felt like it held the two of you. But not anymore.

Maybe it was the numbing adrenaline rush of the shock coming through, but you take in a deep breath, ripping your gaze away. You couldn't bare to look at the sight anymore.

You clench your jaw, your hand gripping itself in a fist. Your eyes pooled with tears and Carol looked at you, her own misery at finding out the truth obvious on her face, although she was mostly worried about you.

"You know what? Maybe we can...do this another day." You say, trying your best to not let your voice shake entirely, but it did falter.

"You don't wanna--" She was about to suggest trying to distract yourself with the arcade, but at the same time, nothing could make you feel better after seeing such a thing.

"Just take me home." Your mouth moved quickly and you spoke quietly, your eyes flicking back to the spot where she was walking, but she was out of sights already.

You turn around and walk fast, not wanting to linger anymore. Carol walks with you. There was nothing said as you made your way out and to the car. The lovely sounds of the birds chirping now fell on deaf ears as your legs kept you moving.

The car door opens easily with the pull of your hand, and you get in, but you were careful to not slam the door. Carol gets in after you, and turns on the engine.

Her eyes go over to you. You already had your seatbelt on and had settled in your seat, staring out the window. She was about to say something, but she held her tongue, not wanting to make matters worse.

And what would anyone have to say in this anyway? Your lover left you, replaced you with someone else, and broke your heart. 'It will get better'? The only path to take was to go through the pain and that was it. Until you somehow get back up again.

The music starts up once more, and it didn't make you happy as much anymore. You couldn't even focus on it if you tried. You were trying to blink away the tears and ignore the way your throat was swelling up on the inside.

Carol drives you back home safely, keeping her eyes on you here and there. The ride was quiet other than the music, but it was obvious the tension was high.

There were questions unsaid, many going around in your head, but you didn't wanna trouble her with all of them, and she probably wouldn't know what to answer them with anyway.

Soon enough, you arrive back to your house, and you gently unbuckle your seatbelt. At the corner of your eyes, your tears were starting to seep out, just a little.

Carol makes sure she says something before she regrets just being silent, "Hey," she said quietly, and you look at her, your eyes shining with unshed tears. It was the softest you've heard her voice yet.

"I'm always here, if you need me," she says. She knows it won't be much, but it needed to get out of her head. You nod, and sniffle, trying your best to not cry just yet.

You don't say anything back. If you did, you would've broken right there. Instead, you pull on the car handle and open the door, getting out.

Carol watches you as you leave, and she makes sure you get into your house safely before getting out the driveway.

You close the front door of the house, locking it, and freezing in your tracks, taking in a sharp breath before letting it out as a sigh. You nearly hoped it didn't happen, that you would only do that and just wake up from sleeping right now.

But then you let out a sob and lean back on the closed door. You hide your face in your hands, closing your eyes as you started crying, and your chest wracks with broken sobs.

How could she do such a thing? Did she not love you? Were you simply not enough? Too much? You couldn't stop yourself with the questions roaming your head, overthinking everything as you go. The kindest soul with the warmest heart, now broken into a tiny million pieces just because someone couldn't talk about their feelings. Yet you seem to always find a way to blame yourself for every situation.

Sure, maybe even if she did talk to you, your heart would still break, but would it have felt like this? Would it have felt like your lungs were going to collapse from your cries?

You sniffle, and try your best to steady your breathing, but you couldn't, so you just let it do whatever it wants. You wipe your eyes with your sleeve, but the tears keep flowing, so it barely did much.

Fatiguely, with a heavy body, you made your way to the kitchen. You wanted to go to the bedroom, but it was so far, and everything in there would only make your head spin even more. The couch was a choice, but your eyes linger on that recipe book you had looked through this morning.

Your hand twitches to grab it, but you bite your tongue and instead grip the counter, letting yourself slide down on the kitchen floor. You clutch your legs and curl up. The grip your hands held with the fabric of your jeans were enough to probably rip them.

You still had hiccups leaving your mouth, tears leaving your eyes, and you were definitely about to sob once more. The kitchen tiles blurred from your vision getting clouded with tears.

Your hands clumsily reaches in your pocket to grab your phone, and you somehow made it to your homescreen.

The phone was set down on the floor, your hands shaking as your tears rolled down to your chin and dropped down to stain your shirt.

You look up, trying to gather yourself up, but of course you couldn't. Your body needed to let the emotions out, especially after such a situation.

For a few more long minutes, you sat helplessly on the kitchen floor, your breaths going with their own minds instead of your own. You take a few deep breaths, your legs splayed out in front of you before you sniffle and take one last deep breath.

You sat up a little more properly with the little energy you have, and slide your phone just a bit closer to yourself, your fingers gliding across the screen as you opened your calls app, and hovered your finger over the contact name.

You tap on it, trying your best to recollect yourself before she picks up. Your teeth bites down on your bottom lip, every tone of the calling sound making your heart beat faster.

It ends, and her voice comes through.

"Hello?" There's the soft voice. The gentle, soothing voice that lured you into falling in love.

"Wanda." Your voice nearly faltered, but it kept a little of it's stern tone. Your hand slid down to the kitchen floor, the texture keeping your emotions steady, at least enough for a couple minutes.

"Hey, what's up? Did you see my note?" She asks. She's been lying to your face all this time and you didn't even know it. How blind were you?

"Do you know what day it is today?" You ask, ignoring her own question. You sounded so calm in your own anger you honestly nearly even scared yourself.

"No...what?" She was confused, and you could imagine the innocent act of a face she made.

"It's my birthday." You put simply.

"Oh..." that was all that sounded on the phone, and you knew the call didn't get cut off. She just didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry I didn't stay Y/N, I...forgot." She says slowly, and it was obvious she was trying to tread her tracks carefully.

"I can come back tonight, I promise." You almost didn't want her to, but you needed to talk it out. You didn't say anything else, not wanting to talk about everything else over the phone.

"Goodbye, Wanda." You whisper, your voice breaking at the end. You were sure she noticed it, but you'd want her to anyway.

You ended the call, tapping on the red button. That wasn't the end of it yet, of course, but for now, your hand only rests on the floor, your body falling limp against the cabinet.

She calls, but you don't hear it. The phone rings, on, and on.

You clench your jaw, tears filling up in your eyes once more. Your hand weakly silences your phone, and for the next couple more minutes, you lay crying, until your throat was dry and your muscles ached from sitting on the floor.

|——————————— ᗢ ———————————|

The sun had gone down by now, and the moon came out of hiding.

You were no longer on the kitchen floor, but you were on the couch, curled up like a cat. You haven't done anything but cry ever since you got home. Only right now, your tears had dried, staining your cheeks

You hear the front door unlock, and you feel it coming, the moment you've been dreading.

The brunette appears from behind the door, closing it as she went in the house. Her eyes roamed the place, and eventually, it lands on you.

She lets out a sigh of relief when she realized you were still here. You let out a heavy sigh as you sat up properly.

She heard it. Even with the distance, the quietness of the room captured it. Her heart beated harder in her chest.

"Y/N, please, I'm sorry." She pleads as she makes her way to the couch, having carelessly kicked her shoes off, leaving one tilted on its side. You haven't even said anything yet, and you almost feel sorry yourself.

"Hey,"-- You were sitting right beside the armrest, so, she leans over and gently puts her hand on your cheek. --"I love you. I'm sorry."

You gently push away her hand, turning to look at her with your jaw clenching. She can see the anger in your eyes and it had her giving you a little space.

"Do you?" You say, your head moving slightly, and she notices the way the corner of your eyes seemed a little red. You weren't even looking at her. That was only the second part of the situation.

"Yes!" She says her eyebrows furrowed. She raises her hands in exaggeration before moving one up to her hair, sliding it back as she let out a breath. "...Why is that difficult to understand?"

"Well, maybe because you didn't even say anything when I said it to you just a few days ago!" Her mouth opens, and you assumed she was about to argue that she was drunk during that time, but she lets out a scoff, and that's even worse.

"You're pissed off about that too?" She seemed mad, and you nearly regret even blurting out the sentence.

You close your eyes with your hands, just wanting this to end even though it's just started and just barely scratched surface of what you need to talk about...or argue. You hoped it was the first one.

"Of course I am, Wanda! Where have you been?" You try your best to keep calm, but your voice was laced with anger. Hers though, was higher volume than yours.

"At work!" She walks around to the front of the couch, and you slide your hand down your face. Her face looked so believable, but you knew it wasn't the truth. You saw it with your own eyes.

"Bullshit." You whispered, looking at her with tired eyes. She gets confused and sits down on the couch, her eyes focused on you. You shift your position.

"What? I'm not ly--..." Her voice was a little high of a volume, and she doesn't finish her sentence when she hears you take in a shaky breath.

"...I...saw you." You said quietly, and Wanda, having been caught up in trying to make you believe her had to go quiet in thought of what exactly you mean.

She swallows down a lump in her throat, her eyes catching yours.

"Saw me?" She asked, her voice reducing down to almost the same volume as yours.

"You...were with someone else." You were shaking and your breath was trembling. You willed everything in your body not to sob while trying to get the rest of the sentences out. Her eyes widened at your words, and that was it.

"And I know it's not another person, because I saw your face." You point your finger to her, gently pushing on her chest with it to enunciate your words. Gently. You were never the type to lash out or be rough even when you were angry.

She goes quiet. Both pairs of your eyes were welling up with tears, that much was obvious. Any other words she's had before had died in her throat.

You see a tear rolling down her cheek from the side, and you held your hands back from wiping it off.

She looks at you, guilt swimming in her eyes, and she takes a shaky breath in before letting it go.

"...There's really..." She looks away from you, unable to even stare back at you. Your heart felt heavier than you knew it could.

"...nothing I could say or do to make you feel better." She said tearfully, her lips going down as she thought of her next words. She swallows her collected saliva again. That hit you like a million little glass pieces piercing through every part of your living, loving soul.

There really was not much she could reason with other than the fact that it had been true. She's fallen out of love with you, but even she didn't want to admit it.

"I've been with someone else. I...wanted to tell you. I just didn't know how." She admitted with her shoulders going up at her last words. There it was. The truth coming straight out of her mouth. Your lips nearly trembled, but your teeth sank down on it.

"How...long?" You ask, and you almost didn't want to know, but for the sake of closure, you urged on. She stays quiet, her own hands gripping the couch.

"How long, Wanda?" You pressed. Was it a month ago? It couldn't have been longer than that.

"Only after eight months of us moving here." It was before you even had your break. You made the math quickly in your head. You moved in a little more than a year ago, so it's been...six months?

You had been in this devouring hole for six months, and you hadn't even realized it. And she didn't tell you or break up with you. Instead she requested a break. No wonder your hope had died to sparks and to nothingness.

"What?" You whispered under your quivering breath, your head tilting in disbelief as your eyes spilled out in silent tears.

"Wanda." You say her name softly. She looked down in her lap as you let out another breath that nearly sounded like a sob. She sniffles, and you know the both of your hearts are breaking.

"Why?" You ask, although it was more of a thought from your head that spewed out unintentionally rather than a logical question. She couldn't answer. She didn't have an answer herself. It just happened. That's how it always is.

"...I thought you loved me." Your voice was small, as if speaking any louder would make the entire universe disappear in fear, just like your love had.

"I did! Or, I do!! I don't know!!!" She blurts out, not being able to decide which one. Her body had deflated at the high chance of losing you tonight.

"So you fell out of love with me completely?" Your eyes watch her carefully, and just for a vivid moment, she hesitantly, just barely nods.

"And you didn't think to just...break it off." You whisper, although it was more of a sentence to yourself. But she heard it anyway. It was obvious what you were pointing towards in your sentence. She sighs. She knows she's taken a step she couldn't take back.

Really, how can someone bring theirselves to having a full conversation about falling out of love? It's a difficult thing to do. Sure, you'd be heartbroken either way, or somehow you would have been able to work it out, but you supposed something else in you just wished you hadn't suffered all those months hoping for absolutely...nothing.

The two of you sit in the silence of what you'd think is death, not knowing what exactly to do with it all. The love you once had was gone. Or at least...hers.

Something spins around in your head. It's been spinning for ages since she had called to take a break, and you had hoped you never had to say it, but what else was there? You could start over, but this love had already started over before. Or had tried to. Technically it was both. This was the end of the road.

"...It's over." You whisper out into the room, and Wanda finally glanced up at you, her face full of heartbreak. Even though she probably saw it coming. You've seen that look before, and your stomach was about to collapse at even a second of it. You kept the eye contact though, needing to fully close this.

In a way, you searched her eyes, for some reason, still searching for anything that once was. But there wasn't anything but hopeless desperation.

"No...no please, I need you." She says, taking breaths in between as she cried. You hated seeing her like this. But you hated going in circles just as much.

"If you really did, then you wouldn't have done such a thing." She had nothing else to say to that. It had been your breaking point. You averted your gaze and stood up, hesitating for a moment, but eventually going off to the bedroom as she sat there in the consequences of her actions.

You walk into the room and close the door, locking it right after. You gently lean your head against the door, while silent tears freely move down your skin. The supply of water in your body was definitely infinite for today. A part of you wanted to laugh at the mere thought, and just to cope, but you were too tired to even do so.

You take in a breath, looking up to the ceiling as you felt your throat swell up, but you try your best to be quiet. You'd hate for her to hear you sob in the other room. She might be doing the same thing herself. You squeeze your eyes shut for a short time, wishing for it all to just stop.

And technically it's about to.

Gently, you push off the bedroom door and your legs take you to the front of your closet. The next move was obvious.

Your hands clenched theirselves as your eyes stare at the closet doors. You take a look around the room, taking in the space with your eyes lingering on some parts. The book Wanda hasn't finished reading. She stopped reading it ever since she started to disappear. You should have seen the signs.

The little teddy bear she got, the daisies you got her in the corner of the room, the DVDs she has in the TV stand, the music collection you have next to it.

You rip your gaze away and let your hands open the closet doors. A travel bag and a luggage bag was just under the hanged clothes, sitting within a compartment.

With trembling hands, you slide both out, putting them on the bed and unzipping them. It was the same bags you used to move into the house.

You grab some of the clothes you once shuffled through just earlier this morning, making sure to remember which ones are Wanda's, and not yours.

They were placed into the bags, and you stared at the folded shirts. They looked wrong. You throw your head back with a sigh, frustrated. The bed dips when you sat on it, the bags moving along just a little with it.

What are you thinking? The promise to stay, to fight through it all, it had all fallen apart. The one person you didn't leave after just a few months, and yet here you are. Packing. You let your body fall down completely on the mattress, legs dangling while you stared at the ceiling.

How many times have you stared up there? You don't even want to know. Before you lost all motivation and your emotions ran slow, you slowly prop yourself up to your arms and got back up. If you stopped now, you won't be gone in the morning.

Toothbrush, toothpaste, everything else you need and all the essentials. The last of it gets stored in the empty parts, and with the quiet sound of the zipper zipping, it was done.

With a relieved sigh that you could now simply lay on the pillows, your arms splayed out, your body giving up the last of its energy. You definitely couldn't get up anymore to do anything else.

This was the last night you were sleeping in this bed.

The crickets couldn't be any more louder with filling up the silence. You hated it. It felt too short, but all at the same time, it feels like it's gone on for too long.

Your vision faded into black as your mind stayed loud, up until it crept into your dreams. She slept on the couch that night.

In the morning, you woke up heavy and go through everything as if you didn't even sleep. Not even a cold shower helped you. Honestly, it might have just helped numbing the pain in your chest instead. You gather your items, gripping your bags tightly.

What if you just drop them and simply isolate yourself in the room? No. You shook your head, walking over to the door.

Your hand remains on the cold door knob for a short while, and you almost stay long enough to have it warmed up from your skin. It gets twisted though, and you open it.

If not for the sleeping figure on the couch, it would have been an empty room. You walk out to the front door with your eyes lingering on her.

Maybe her love was too good for you anyway. You just couldn't give her enough. Or too much. It didn't even make sense anymore. There was no in between your heart and mind could agree on. Even you didn't know what you were thinking.

Just as you click open the lock and went to open the front door, she slowly awakes. The shuffling makes you turn to look at her. You catch the realization and sadness in her eyes when you locked sights. Damn the loud clicks and creaking sounds of the doors.

"Where are you going?" She asks, but it was more of a question, than her wanting to stop you.

"Somewhere that isn't here." You say quietly, like a secret thats not meant to be said. She stares off into a space in the room, lost in thought.

"I really am sorry." You hold your breath a little longer, waiting for her to say something else. But she didn't.

There wasn't anything possible to heal the broken love you held. Maybe if she gave in, but her hands had been touched by someone else and her lips...perhaps had met another's.

"I love you." You whispered impulsively, although quiet and quick, it made sound to reach her ears nonetheless.

But yet, she was silent.

You stare at her for a second more, and few seconds too long to say you're determined in leaving. She wasn't looking at you.

You take a step to turn, and the door slides open with the pull of your hand.

You take another, then when you're outside and the door closes gently, the quietness of it all consumed you.

You check your belongings, you had your bags, your watch, your phone. You have everything except for her.

You check your last pocket, and in it were the keys to the house. You slide it off and it clinks, a familiar sound that you hated made your heart skip a beat every time you heard it.

You leave it off somewhere at the front of the house, and you hope you don't remember where you put it.

It all blurred together as you went to your car, turned on the engine and drove off. Of course you had a plan in mind. You've thought about it a hundred times, but you never thought you'd go with it.

The car arrives to a stop, near the place of your favorite cafe. But you aren't going out. You just needed to drive away from the house.

"Fuck." You cursed under your breath and slammed your fist on the steering wheel, and somehow your hand had slid down to the horn, making you bump into it and the car beeped loudly. You jumped, and looked around alertedly, but no one was there. The sidewalks were empty.

You relievedly let out the breath you were holding once you made sure you were in the clear. Thankfully, it wasn't lunchtime or the weekend.

"God," the word comes out under your breath as you shook your head. The thoughts in your head were harsh, and your shoulders slumped at it.

"How could I have ever possibly thought I was actually the one?" You whisper to yourself, staring at the logo of the car, still somehow shiny, just sitting there in between the controls even from how much you've driven the car.

You grip the steering wheel, but then you notice your arms being covered in a certain cloth. One all too familiar, one you chose in instinct in the morning. You look down on the sweatshirt you're wearing, and it was obvious. It was Wanda's.

You clench your jaw and your hands move to peel it off yourself, the sweatshirt turning into a jumbled up piece of clothing that was inside-out. You didn't even want to look at it, so you threw it to the backseats. You'll deal with it later.

Soon, you went to grab your phone, your hand shaking as you turned on your phone, trying your best to find a certain contact. You hold the device tighter, trying to stop the shaking. But you couldn't.

When you found it, you were hesitant to tap on it, your mind loud of everything bad that could happen. But it was Kate. You take in a shaky breath and tapped on the call button, exhaling your breath as you put your phone to your ear.

"Hello?" Her voice comes out gently. The kinder tone almost makes you let out a breath of relief. Your shoulders relax only a little though.

"Kate?" You ask in a whisper, fiddling a little with your steering wheel and tracing the round shape, the texture brushing the skin of your fingers.

"Hey, what's up?" It was still gentle, but there was a hint of concern in it. She can already tell something was wrong even though you barely said anything.

"Um...I..." Your breath was shaky, and she could hear it. On the other side of the phone, Kate was frowning, but she stayed quiet as she gave you time to get your words out.

You were nibbling your bottom lip as you thought about how to talk about your situation, and in the midst of the moment-- "...Wanda and I broke up," you spew out the words, your mouth not even caring to follow your mind anymore.

"What? What happened?" She was certainly shocked, and you look out the window, trying to distract yourself while at the same time speaking to Kate.

"She was with someone else," you say. The florist you once saw a few months ago came out of his store, greeting a customer outside. It was like you were watching a scene you were once in, in another person's view.

"Oh, shit." She swore out unintentionally, the surprise taking over her mouth. "Sorry," she apologized quickly, and you can imagine her blinking to get ahold of herself. It almost made you let out a soft chuckle.

"...I'm sorry, Y/N. God, I could never imagine Wanda would have done that." Kate said quietly. She adored your relationship together, that much was true, but she also saw the parts of Wanda that you wish weren't true. Yet this, this was an unexpected turn.

"...And since I left the house, I can't even sulk in bed or anything." You let out a gentle breath of a laugh, but it was more of a nervous one.

"I mean, I should've had a plan but-- we'd just keep seeing each other and it just...hurts." The florist had said goodbye to the customer who bought the flowers. He seemed happy as he rewrote some things on his little chalkboard. That man was definitely living his best life.

"Where are you gonna go?" She asks, and you go silent. You couldn't go to Carol's. You wouldn't. She's living with Maria and Monica and you probably wouldn't have a room to sleep other than in the living room on the couch. You wouldn't want to intrude on her living conditions anyway.

"I don't...really have anywhere to go to, so anywhere, I guess." You sink into your seat, looking down in your lap to stop staring at people. Kate was silent for a moment, and you're guessing she either didn't know what to say, or is thinking about something.

"My place is available to you if you want to come. You're always welcome here," she offers, and your eyes relax while your fingers fiddle with theirselves, thinking it over.

"...If that's okay with you. I mean, I don't want to intrude on anything--" You add on after quickly, but you get cut off by Kate.

"It's fine. Don't worry about it, I've missed having you hanging around. And I promise you, I have two forks and spoons now so we don't have to share one or get a plastic one from Mcdonald's that'll break after a few minutes." She jokes, and that actually made you laugh.

"Okay. Okay, thank you, Kate. I'll be there tomorrow." You sit up more properly, getting ready to drive to the airport. You hadn't visited her in a while, so you already had money ready.

"I will be there to pick you up. Okay? Do not get a cab," she says sternly, and you take in a big breath only to let it out as a small sigh.

"Kate," You say sternly back, wanting to protest and not burden her more. But she hums in disagreement. You know she cared about getting you safe and being the best friend she is, but your head was killing you.

"No. No, Y/N. I am not letting you cry in a cab awkwardly first thing you get out the airport." She argues softly, and you let your shoulders down in defeat. At your silence, she waits.

"I'll let you know when I land." You give in, your voice small.

"Okay, good." You can hear the relief in her voice, and your lip tugs up into the smallest smile

"See you, Kate." You were about to end the call, but she speaks up again.

"Hey."

"Take care of yourself."

"I'll try."

"See you."

The call ends, and you start driving.

end of chapter 5.

Series Masterlist <- Chapter 4 Chapter 6 ->

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

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[fairysluna]

aegon angst please im begging on my knees OLEASE OLEASE

this is perfect bc I've been planning on writing an angsty drabble based on this song for so long and i finally got the excuse lol. hope you like it!!🤍

Songfic #6

is it insensitive for me to say get your shit together? So I can love you.

PAIRING – Modern!Aegon II Targaryen x Reader.

TAGS – angst, hurt no comfort, alcohol consumption, cursing, mentions of cheating, established relationship, mentions of family issues. if something is missing let me know!!

You saw the clock hanging from the wall, biting your nails and sighing with despair. The feeling in your gut was giving you bad news, and the voice inside your head was trying to convince you to call him one more time with the fanciful idea of him picking up feeding your need to do it. You felt a hole in your belly where your stomach was supposed to be, and your body seemed to be unable to remain still in one place. 

4 am, and the last time you heard about Aegon was when he left the apartment and told you he would come back before midnight, for tomorrow he had a very important job interview early in the morning. Needless to say, he did not keep his word, and when the clock indicated that it was the middle of the night, you found yourself alone in the darkness of the living room, at the verge of tears produced by the worry and anger. Your cellphone remained quiet, no phone calls from him arrived. That only made you angrier, for he did not even think about letting you know whether he was alright or not; he did not even think how you had a sleepless night filled with pure distress due to the unavoidable concern. You called him at least twenty times during the night, and none of your calls were answered; you had already memorized his voice mail recording by heart. 

When the main door opened, your lost eyes found their way to the frame of it, and the first thing you saw was your boyfriend stumbling inside the living room; a green shirt ripped in the neck, leftovers of red lipstick on his neck, chin and cheeks, and sleepy eyes. You were already used to seeing that aspect on him, though you had naively believed that it would stop. But it never stopped. 

“Hello there, beauty,” he greeted you. He dragged his words as if his tongue was as heavy as a rock, holding his body against the door handle.

You pressed your lips in a thin line, you had the intention to scream at him, to yell at his face how much you hated him for doing this to you once again; but nothing would come out, your words would be stuck in the back of your throat, your mind too blurry with disappointment to even think in what to say; so you just stood up, grabbed your phone and left towards the room without uttering a sound. You heard how Aegon closed the door, and how he dragged his feet behind you as he followed you, but you did not even bother to turn around. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asked, and your heart fell to your stomach as you stopped walking. Once you finally had the courage to turn around to face you looked at him with disdain, as if he was mocking you without shame by asking something so stupidly obvious that it was insulting. 

“It’s 4 am,” you spat, already breathing heavily. “It’s 4 am and you just got home… it’s Tuesday!”

“Oh, Gods, I’m sorry, love…” he muttered, trying to step closer to you but you stepped back, rejecting his touch. “Arryk just got a new job so we went to a bar downtown and celebrated for him.”

“And did you forget that later today you have a job interview?” You reminded him, fuming already with rage burning through your eyes. You were barely able to keep it together, your nose already itching as you saw Aegon widening in surprise by your words. He had forgotten, he always did. “I can’t fucking believe it.”

“Love, listen-” his hand tried to reach for you once again but you slapped it away from you. 

“No, this is enough, I won’t listen to your pathetic excuses anymore,” you shook your head and your eyes became watery once you noticed the marks of lipstick on his skin. “I’m so tired of being the only one trying to keep us afloat.” 

“That’s a lie…” He accused you, narrowing his eyes. 

“Is it?” You chuckled incredulously, “I’m the one paying the bills, working my ass off so you don’t feel pressure to find a stupid job, but all you do is drink and live as if you were still a fucking teenager!” You raised your voice, making him shrink in his position. He took a step back, looking at you teary eyed. That would always be enough for you to soften to him, but not this time. “You’ve told me multiple times how your grandfather would yell at you to do your shit so I tried to be empathic with you and give you time, but I just-” 

A sob interrupted your words, making you choke in your own sorrow as you covered your mouth and quickly looked away from him. You closed your eyes for an instant and you slightly shook your head, feeling your heart being torn apart by the impact of reality against what used to be a fairytale. A shake breath came from your lips as you wiped your tears away and looked back at Aegon, who was standing as if he was a scolded child waiting to receive his punishment.

Those lilac eyes of him made you remember the beginning of your relationship, before you truly figured Aegon out. The first stages of a relationship were always perfect, relaying on the rush of adrenaline and excitement that a new feeling would provide; but now that it’s been four years, all that magic had vanished… sadly, the love and devotion you had for him was still making your heart beat, which is why it was so hard for you to pronounce the following words,

“I can’t allow myself to love you anymore,” you struggled to say, the sobs that threatened to escape you were making you choke and gulp. “Why can’t you get your shit together? Why can’t you grow up and act like a fucking adult?”

“You know it’s hard for me,” he excused himself, but you sighed. 

“And you think it isn’t hard for me too? I stay awake every night you go out, scared to death. I have two jobs so we can keep this fucking apartment so you don’t go back and live with your parents. Because that’s how much I care about you.”

“And I love you for that.”

“Then fucking prove it to me!” You gave an exasperated yell, “Prove me that you love me! Because lately I feel like you’re saying all these things just because you’re used to them.”

“How?” He asked, “what do you want me to do?”

And there it is, the disappointment crossing your face once again. You could speak to him, scream and yell a bunch of words, but he would never listen. He would always disguise his lack of attention with questions like this, even when you had been screaming the answer to it ever since he stepped into the apartment. 

You did not respond to him; you just shook your head as you made your way to your bag. You grabbed your keys, your phone and your wallet. Aegon frowned after looking at that action, and he tried to follow you around but his feet felt so heavy that he only stumbled in his place. 

“Where are you going?” He demanded an answer, “what are you doing?”

Once again, silence was the answer to his question and his eyes filled with tears followed your frame until you stopped in the middle of the door frame of the room. 

“My love…” he whispered, already feeling himself being sobered up by the anguish he started to feel inside his chest. “Please, don’t. Not you too.”

“You’re losing me, Aegon,” you muttered, loud enough for him to see. “Be aware of that.”

Once you closed the door behind your back, Aegon broke into silent sobs and cries. He had underestimated your limits, stupidly believing that you would always be by his side. Now that he found himself alone in a room filled with memories, the only thing he was able to do was to regret.

GENERAL TAG LIST — @borikenlove @aemondsversion @jvpit3rs @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore @valeskafics @clairacassidy @aemondx @randomdragonfires @gothtargaryen @melsunshine @urmomsgirlfriend1 @jamespotterismydaddy

AEGON TAG LIST — @lovelykhaleesiii @ganymede-princess @xfancyuu @megatardisbaby

[katyawriteswhump]

the freak in the penthouse part 6.2

E-rated (for sexual content), accidental millionaire eddie/sex-worker steve.

On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1 Part 4.2 Part 5.1 Part 5.2 Part 6.1 or search #thefreakinthepenthouse :)

On AO3

6.2 more than words

It was always tricky to focus on anything other than naked Steve in the luxurious walk-in wet room. Nevertheless, Steve seemed quieter than usual. Eddie found himself distracted in different ways from usual.

Okay, his first distraction was still Steve’s shiny body. He dripped with suds from the soap Eddie lathered across his chest, before teasingly wandering it lower. They were, in fact, similar in height and built, with Eddie maybe a fraction of an inch taller. Steve was maybe more trimly muscular. Yet sometimes, Steve seemed strangely… brittle?  

Nah. Not the right word. Eddie couldn’t quite nail it, and it was probably all in his ‘freakin’-the-shit-out-today’ head.

More palpably, the bright strip-lights revealed the deep shadows around Steve’s eyes, shouty as bruises. When Steve slid his wet palm to grasp Eddie’s semi, Steve yawned.

Eddie brushed Steve’s hand away, noting that, despite Eddie’s games with the soap, Steve was totally not turned on right now. “You all right, Babe? You look beat.” 

“I know what’ll pep me up.” Steve smiled tightly, turned away. He braced his hands to the tiles and spread his legs.

Eddie stroked Steve’s shoulder, eased him back around. He peeled wet hair from Steve’s puzzled face, and kissed him, deep and slow, amid the water and steam. The rumble of Eddie’s personal apocalypse grew deafening, and it wasn’t even about the money issues anymore. Dustin would sort that.

Levelling with Steve, whatever that meant, felt more important. And Eddie grew more tongue-tied than ever.

When they’d gotten out of the shower, Steve tied a towel around his waist and said, “What do you wanna do?”

This was the part where they usually ordered room service and got smashed. “Table-top pool?” suggested Eddie.

 “You hate that!” Steve threw his hands in the air, and his towel slipped beneath his hips. “I always wipe the floor with you.”

“Today could be different, Stevie.”

“Fat chance.”

The ruse worked. Steve drank beer, munched pretzels and potted endless silly balls. Meanwhile, Eddie reclined on his beanbag, chain-smoked Marlboro Lights, and necked Diet Coke. He kept his head clear, while he shared with Steve everything that happened before he’d buried himself in the penthouse.

It’d begun when he’d hired a studio, some session musos, and recorded several songs that he’d performed with Corroded Coffin. He tried to get Gareth and the guys on board. However, their lives had moved on after Eddie, in Gareth’s words, “Blew them off for yer egghead friends and to live the fucking high life.”

“I taped an EP, persuaded a few indie stores and Tower Records to stock it. It was a honking great floperooza, and then, while I was merrily licking my wounds, one of the music rags reviewed it.” Eddie sighed out a cloud of smoke. “They slammed it as the worst kind of rich-kid vanity record. You know, when I penned those songs, I hadn’t a dime to my name. So yeah, I bled, dude, and now I can’t seem to stop picking that scab.”

“It sucks. Anybody would bleed.” Steve lined up his last red. Instead of potting, he began to cough, dumping the cue down and doubling over. Eddie rushed forward, placing a hand on his  back.

“Stevie? You okay?”

Steve elbowed Eddie off, took a slurp of the Coke Eddie offered him. 

“Fucking pretzel got stuck,” wheezed Steve. “Rain check?” He dashed for the washroom, grabbing his uniform pants on the way. Eddie stubbed out his cigarette—probably a good call, before they both choked their lungs out, pretzels or otherwise.

Steve shortly returned, still shirtless and wearing his hotpants. He ruthlessly potted his final red: “Bam! Champ wins again. Your turn to break, Loser.”

They reset the table, and Eddie’s breakoff shot was typically disastrous. A ball shot up and landed in an enormous potted palm, which let Steve into the game. Eddie picked his nails ragged and continued his story.

“After that journo shot me down, I holed myself away in this dump, which was insane. I detest everything about this kind of forced-conformity shithole. I should give the dough to a homeless shelter. Instead, I can’t bring myself to leave the fortress of corporate evil! Which is beyond insane, and you know what I hate the most? I’m whining about it to you, like the woooorst kiiiind of entitled brat.”

Steve missed what looked like a screamingly easy shot, at least for him. “You don’t have to be poor to be down on yourself.”

Steve passed Eddie the cue and Eddie put it aside. He didn’t know what he was gonna say, only that he had to say something. Steve merely looked confused again, so Eddie grasped his hips, tugging him close.

“Listen to me, Stevie. Hiding myself away in a tarnished-ivory tower wasn’t the answer. Till you came along to rescue me.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Steve flashed an apparently delighted grin, flung his arms around Eddie’s shoulders. “Your hair’s not that long, Rapunzel.”

Eddie went in for the kill: “I like you, Steve. I literally never said that to anybody before, and—”

“Yeah, I can tell that.” Steve’s bitchy tone didn’t reach his wide eyes.

“Ah shit, this place has turned me soft. Look, I mean it from the top of my greasy rocker head to the tips of my dainty metal toesies—I really like you. Look, I can’t hang here forever…”

…BUT I DON’T WANT THIS THING BETWEEN US TO END.

Eddie wanted to holler it so loud the chandelier would crash from the ceiling and wake the dead in Dallas. Instead, he found himself saying:

“...and I know it sounds dumb, but I wanna help you, like you’ve helped me, and—” 

“Zip it, Eds.” Steve pressed his fingertips to Eddie’s lips and rattled out a dry laugh. “Yeah, I know what it looks like, me peddling my ass and all, but the truth is, I don’t have to do this anymore. You were an exception.” He quirked a half-smile: “Tonight’s about you breaking free, not me. C’mon, man—let's party.”

....

Chapter 7 on tumblr

Chapter 7 on AO3

Thank you for reading. Likes, reblogs and comments much appreciated and will feed the bunnies🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕 writing this sort of fic can be lonely, and I appreciate it very much!

On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1 Part 4.2 Part 5.1 Part 5.2 Part 6.1 Part 7or search #thefreakinthepenthouse :)

On AO3 All my ST stuff on AO3

[rachelsrandomwritings]

Wishing On a Star That's Just a Satellite

Ahhh ok, I haven't written anything in years, but I have recently become obsessed with BES and felt like I needed to write about Mizu so here is my probably trash attempt. Also based on the line from the song Satellite by All time Low

Modern! Mizu x Fem! Reader

y/n loved Mizu.  She loved the way her eyebrows furrowed when she was concentrating. Loved Mizu’s commitment to any task she undertook, never able to do anything halfway. y/n loved her dry wit and ability to think of a comeback to any jab. She loved her loyalty. Loved the way she protected her friends. She loved her strength and her ability to make a stand when necessary. She loved her eyes and the way they almost seemed to shine. She loved her with every part of her soul, but more and more she realized that might not be enough.

The two had met in their first year of college, while stuck in a new student orientation class. y/n noticed Mizu as soon as she walked into the lecture, silently hoping the girl would sit somewhere close by. By some stroke of luck, Mizu took the seat diagonally behind y/n. While bummed she wouldn’t be able to see her, y/n sent up thanks when the proximity allowed them to be put in a group together for the semester-long project. It was that very group that would become y/n’s closest friends in college. Though giving only a mediocre presentation for the final Akemi, Ringo, Taigen, Mizu, and y/n left the class tightly bonded. The group did everything together, study dates in the library, movie nights rotating between apartments, and crashing frat parties whenever they got the chance. Those nights were particularly fun with Mizu and Taigen always finding ways to show off against the brothers until the group was eventually kicked out. 

It was through these collected interactions that y/n got to know the girl who had caught her eye back on the very first day. The more she learned the harder she fell. She listened intently any time Mizu talked about her past, living with an adoptive father growing up in his auto repair shop. It was clear from the way she talked that her past had shaped the woman she was today, and y/n wanted nothing more than to know all of the little details, to understand the girl who made her heart beat so fast. When all of the friends were around y/n could mostly keep her nerves and feelings under control, but anytime the two of them were only she suddenly lost her ability to keep up a conversation, responding too quickly and never knowing what to say next.

It was silly for y/n to think none of their other friends would notice, and before too long Akemi cornered her with questions. Unable to deny it, y/n revealed the strong crush that had been growing for months. Thankfully Akemi promised not to tell right away but encouraged y/n to express her feelings. Too shy and afraid of the consequences not only for herself but also for the friend group y/n decided she had no choice but to get over Mizu. She pushed away thoughts of the girl throwing herself into her studies. She stopped showing up to friend group events in an attempt to clear her mind. 

That was until one night, out with another group of friends and admittedly a little too drunk, y/n ran into Mizu, literally. y/n was walking off the dance floor stumbling to refill her cup when suddenly she found herself caught in the toned arms of the girl she tried so hard to forget. y/n looked up, breath hitching and her eyes made contact with the ice-blue ones. “y/n” Mizu stated bluntly looking at the girl in her arms, “It's been a while.” y/n’s mind raced attempting to come up with an excuse for her absence, but instead decided to ignore the comment. “I’m so sorry I didn't mean to run into you, I was just headed that way.” y/n said pointing in a random direction and attempting to slip out of Mizu’s grasp and get away as quickly as possible. She started walking only to find herself being pulled back gently by the wrist, y/n turned back cautiously curious. Mizu cleared her throat, “they all really miss you.” She stated, taking a step toward y/n. Feeling braver than she ever had, y/n stepped in as well. “What about you, do you miss me?” Mizu’s eyebrows furrowed surprised at y/n’s words. “Of course I miss you, we’re friends.” y/n felt the word ‘friends’ cut through her heart like a knife. Unable to control herself y/n responded, “Yeah friends why can’t it ever be more than friends?” y/n felt the tears roll down her cheeks, and leaned her head against Mizu’s shoulder. Shocked by y/n words Mizu took a second trying to understand what had just happened. Before too long she gently grabbed y/n’s chin tilting it up to look at the girl’s face. y/n looked at her, embarrassment for the words she had just said filling her stomach, she began to apologize but was cut off by the feeling of Mizu’s lips of hers. y/n relaxed immediately into the kiss stepping in closer and wrapping her arms around Mizu’s neck. 

In the following weeks the two would meet constantly attempting to figure out what everything meant, and where they stood with each other. After years of pining y/n couldn’t believe that Mizu was finally hers. y/n made her way back into the friend group apologizing for her behavior, and the group celebrated when the two announced their relationship. Everyone was warm and supportive, caring so much about their two friends and loving the joy they brought one another. On their first official date, Mizu planned a picnic to watch the sunset at a local land preserve and the couple found themselves laying out for hours discussing any and everything. The night began to grow dark and the star shone brightly. Seeing a flash of light y/n gasped point up at the heavens. “Did you see that, I think that was a shooting star!.” Mizu grabbed her hand humming in response, smiling at the excitement on y/n’s face. “Ok so now we both have to make a wish!” y/n said closing her eyes tightly knowing exactly what she would ask for. She opened one eye peeking over at Mizu to see if she was making her own wish. Seeing her eyes shut y/n waited until they opened, and asked the question everyone knows can never be answered. “So what did you wish for?”, Mizu just shook her head a light smile on her lips. “You know I can’t tell you that. If I do it won’t come true, and I want this one to come true.” y/n pouted curious about what the wish might be, but all was resolved when Mizu rolled toward her and kissed the pout off of her lips. 

Their relationship continued to grow and in the time y/n came to find out what she hated about Mizu. Mizu was insecure with a tendency to push everyone away. Her past relationships had ruined her ability to trust or rely on anyone other than herself. She much favored dealing with things on her own. Any problem was immediately bottled up, or solved with force. When trying to address concerns between them Mizu often got defensive, fighting back against any attempt by y/n to work on things Arguments led to silence and avoidance. In one fight it took two weeks for y/n to get more than a passing comment out of Mizu, which hurt. y/n did everything in her power to be available for the other girl but found that Mizu still kept up high walls. It hurts to give your all to someone and be blocked out in return. It hurt to be in the corner of someone who tried their best to kick you out. y/n found herself countless times crying to Akemi about the pain of loving someone who refused to let you in when it really mattered. Sitting on the corner of the bed, the girl she loved curled up sleeping, y/n knew what had to be done. She knew that until Mizu had worked on herself, the two of them would never work. She cried silently as she wrote a goodbye note. She folded the note, standing to place it on the nightstand, before leaning down and placing a light kiss on Mizu’s temple. She grabbed the bag she had packed earlier and walked out, knowing that her wish from all those months ago could not be fulfilled now, but hoping one day they might be brought back together. Hoping that it really was a shooting star and not just a satellite.

[weird-is-life]

Can I make a self indulgent request please 😅, I'm a middle school science teacher and I'm stuck in my apartment all grading papers because procrastinated. I line alone with my little dog and I just need some fluffy comfort with Spencer. Maybe he just sits with the read on the couch with some soft indie music playing in the background. Helping her grade papers. Just a very comfortable silence and he just looks at her when she is not looking and he is just so in love.

Hiii, thank uuu so much for this cute request! I'm sorry it took a bit longer😅(0.6k)

It's Friday night and you're sitting on the couch, surrounded by a pile of tests. You've put off, grading the papers all week, not feeling like doing them at all. You don't really feel like doing them even now. But Spencer's been gone for the last few days and he called you, saying he'll be home tomorrow.

You don't want to waste the little time you usually get with Spencer by grading papers. So you decide to do them. It's easy at first, but the longer you are at it, the more tired and irritated you are.

You are now regretting, putting it off for the whole week. But you try to push through, you even put your favourite music on to help you.

It works for a bit, but the pile never seems to get smaller and you are beggining to wish for it to just dissappeared.

You are just about to give up and put a movie on instead, when you hear the unlocking of your door and a few seconds later, you find yourself clinging tight to your boyfriend, Spencer. He didn't even get 2 steps into your apartment, before you were jumping on him.

"Spence! What are you doing home?" you question. He told you, he was coming tomorrow.

"The team decided to catch an earlier flight, so here I am" he says as he hugs you tightly, he missed you a lot," I'm so glad, I'm home."

"I'm happy, you are home, too" you mumble into his chest. Spencer hums in agreement, content to have you in his arms.

You part after a few seconds, "you must be hungry, let me make you something to eat." You start to walk towards the kitchen, but Spencer catches you by your arm.

"Wait," he says and before you can ask wait for what, he kisses you. You immediately melt into the kiss. When your lips move apart, you sheepishly smile at him, give him one more peck on his lips and head for the kitchen. You fully expect him to go get a shower as he always does.

And he does. But on his way to the bathroom, he notices the mess of papers in the living room. It's like, there was an explosion of papers in the room. Spencer doesn't even need to think about why is that.

He takes a very quick shower and goes to you. He finds you making him his favourite sandwiches and quietly humming some song.

"Sweetheart?" he gets your attention, you look at him with a sweet smile, "is everything okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, why?" you look confused at him, but after a few moments, you remember. You completely forgot about the pile of papers.

"Oh."

"I-I was trying to grade all the papers. I put off grading them all week, because I didn't feel like doing them. But you said, you were coming tomorrow, so I wanted to get them done before you came, " you ramble swiftly, "But I didn't finish, it was a lot. So I'll do it in the morning when you'll sleep, I don't want to waste the time we have together by grading stupid tests."

"In the morning? Nope. We'll get it done today," Spencer's always up to help you with anything.

"We?"

"Yeah, we. I'll help you."

"But you are definitely tired, Spence. You should just go to bed, I'll do it alone-" he instantly cuts you off.

"What? Babe, I'll help you. It will be quicker this way." He doesn't give you anymore space to argue, he takes the plate with the sandwiches, kisses your cheeks as a thank you and pulls you to the living room.

You both sit down on the couch, the music is still playing. "What should I start with?" he asks and you only just think about how this man just got home from a tough week, full of work and wants to spend god knows how many minutes grading middle schoolers tests. Your heart warms up as you think about it.

"I love you, thank you for doing this" you blurt out, looking very softly at him. He pauses his looking through the piles and smiles big at you.

"I love you, too." You two spend the next hour grading the papers, while comfortly sitting on the couch and listening to the music. It's much more better doing it with Spence, than alone.

[lonelyroommp3]

what would be on your enjoltaire 8tracks playlist if you made it today

you know what i didn't realise how effective my recovery from e/r had been until i sat down to make this and actually ended up having to crack open my beloved 2014 iPod That Still Has Flappy Bird On It And All in order to make a decent length playlist bc i just do not listen to enjoltaire songs anymore apparently. all this to say this has about 5 songs that, per your actual prompt, would be on my enjoltaire 8tracks playlist if i made it today and then 15 others that are direct dispatches from the mind of teenage alix. do NOT listen to this for sonic cohesion because trust me you will not be getting any

anyway i set myself one (1) rule for this which was i am not allowed to use any song that i have seen on an enjoltaire fanmix before. this made the entire project even more challenging

and if you're curious to know what the fuck i was thinking here, director's commentary below the cut:

secret diary - autoheart rip enjolras you would have loved listening to this song when you were really pissed off with grantaire

too sweet - hozier loath as i am to include a song that has become this grossly overplayed via tiktok, the very first time i heard this song i thought my god if hozier had released this song 10 years earlier it would have had the enjoltaire 8tracks girlies in a CHOKEHOLD. i can't not include it

i'll come running - brian eno i might be breaking my own rules here because a rando song being on my old ipod from an artist i otherwise barely listen to probably suggests i stole it off an 8tracks fanmix. but whatever it's an enjoltaire fanmix, it's a good song, did anyone else clock it in the background of baby reindeer (i have not finished that show and i am not going to, but anyway, great song)

satanist - boygenius "solomon had a point when he wrote ecclesiastes/if nothing can be known then stupidity is holy" could literally be a line from one of grantaire's drunken rants. welcome back victor hugo

the bird and the worm - owl city this is a teenage alix enjoltaire playlist classic. i won't apologise

stephen - kesha i firmly believe every e/r playlist requires at least one song that doesn't really fit in the details of the lyrics but the vibes are so grantaireish it's got to make it in. do you guys think the ugly girlfriend sneering across the room was epo-*i am shot*

gold rush - taylor swift IT'S THE ONLY TAYLOR SWIFT SONG ON HERE I PROMISE. HEY WHERE ARE YOU GOING. HEY STOP WALKING AWAY AND TELL ME "AT DINNER PARTIES I CALL YOU OUT ON YOUR CONTRARIAN SHIT" ISN'T AN ENJOLTAIRE LYRIC. COME ONNNN

for you and your denial - yellowcard about here is where i just gave up and cracked open the old ipod. i also wanted a clear vibe shift in this playlist and right about here is where i think we move from "mostly lighthearted pining and jabbing at each other's conflicting beliefs" to the "enjolras and grantaire biting each other's heads off" part of the fanmix. anyway i literally bought this entire album in hmv in like 2012 because i stumbled upon this one song on youtube and thought nah mate. this is e/r

make me wanna die - the pretty reckless i honestly have very little to say on this one. just more pissed off vibes

call me when you're sober - evanescence the simple fact of the matter is evanescence defined my teenage years and this will always and forever be an enjoltaire song

for a pessimist, i'm pretty optimistic - paramore i have really vivid memories of being on holiday with my parents in like 2013/14, stuck in rush hour traffic out of rouen, this album blasting in my ears, thinking this song is exactly what enjolras is thinking when grantaire goofs up at the barrière du maine

one big beautiful sound - johnny manchild and the poor bastards it is my near religious belief that every enjoltaire fanmix should have at least one song that sounds like this because i think this is precisely the kind of music that grantaire would actually listen to. actually tbh i think he is also into really really filthy drum and bass but i'm trying to keep this playlist at least slightly sensible

ever - emilie autumn this is such a perfect e/r song that it even talks about painting somebody's portrait. straight out of the fanon playbook, thanks emilie

misty - laufey right around here, or really starting with "ever", we hit the third phase of this playlist, which is "songs to be passed out and suicidal to while all your mates are getting violently killed around you". please note the hand holding foreshadowing. don't ever say i half arse these things

i'm your man - mitski genuinely this one speaks for itself i think. jaw dropped when i heard this one for the first time.

what if - emilie autumn here's where we kind of transition into the fourth portion of the playlist, which is "grantaire wakes the fuck up and goes hey wait no, i think i am going to die for & with this man actually". getting a bit more optimistic and determined but we're still in that wistful acoustic ballad space we've slipped into previously

twin flames - epica this is not from design your universe, epica's previous album, but i just wanted to use this space to say that i would regularly sit on the bus home from school imagining a whole elaborate barricades themed visual album set to design your universe. this bonus track from their next offering was just the icing on the cake. any song with a lyric like "you're all i need/my one belief" was like CRACK to teenage alix i s2g

save yourself, i'll hold them back - my chemical romance 15 year old alix would have figured out time travel to come and kill 27 year old alix in my sleep if i hadn't put a single mcr song on here

bows and arrows - kaiser chiefs i was OBSESSED with this album in 2014 and completely forgot its existence until i resurrected the old ipod. and it's REALLY good. especially this song, which i decided to check the lyrics for on genius bc i vaguely remembered it being an e/r song to me but i also haven't listened to it in like 10 years, and these quotes from ricky wilson absolutely flabbergasted me: "I liked the idea that bows and arrows are pretty useless on their own but when you get them together, they can be quite formidable... What’s wrong with a load of blokes admitting they need each other?"

i, carrion (icarian) - hozier listen, half of the reason i'm including this song is a bit of a joke at the fact that due to my self imposed rules i can't put icarus by bastille on here, but i do kind of like it as a frozen in time slo mo as the bullets hit kind of finale to this whole thing :)

[kassiekole22]

One Small Adventure

Picture lightly edited by me.

Pairing: Mike Monroe x Fem!Reader Description: You and Mike go on a little adventure in the woods... Warnings: Fluff, Heavy Flirting, Partial Nudity... Word Count: 1.6k A/N: Fic #3 of the Until Dawn Poll Fic Challenge! This is also my very first Mike X Reader fic, so I hope you guys enjoy it! 😃🖤 UDPFC MasterList: 🖤 Main MasterList: 🖤 Kassie's Angels: @lorebite, @mornandil, @koexchange, @yesitsloulou, @slvatore. (If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments! 🖤)

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Mike was always the adventurous type. Whether it was taking a random detour down a road we didn't know, spontaneously going to some small restaurant we had never heard of, or just getting on a plan to fly somewhere we had never been; Mike would always keep me on my toes. But today was a little more simple: a nice hike in the woods.

Regardless of the seemingly calm activity, Mike still managed to make a wild adventure out of it.

"Hey, babe! Look!" He shouted excitedly as he pointed in a direction off trail. "There's a lake down there. If we cut through these bushes and trees, we can make it there."

I stared at my boyfriend with a look of uncertainty. Though I loved nature, I could only imagine what lived within those bushes. The darkness between each leaf taunted me, telling me some lovely eight-legged friends would just love to use me as a new tree to climb.

"Mike, I don't know..." I took a step back as I shook my head from side to side. "There could be spiders in there."

Mike merely chuckled at my statement, also shaking his head as a grin of amusement curled his lips up. He took a few steps towards me — closing the small distance between us — and wrapped his strong arms around my waist.

"Aw, are you scared?" He teased as he stuck his lower lip out mockingly. "Don't worry — your big, strong man will protect you from those mean spiders."

"It's not funny!" I pouted. "Besides, there could be ticks."

I gestured to the German Shepard that sat loyally at Mike's side. He had had that dog for as long as I'd known him, and had grown to be just as much my dog after we had gotten together. So I for sure wasn't going to let our fur-child get eaten up by those filthy little blood-suckers.

Mike chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment as his smile fell flattened into a straight line. But when his pursed lips grew into a smirk, I knew he was up to something — something that would make my excuse seem pointless.

"Well, I gave Germie a bath this morning with tick repellent shampoo." My expression dropped as his words sunk in and I pursed my lips tightly together. Mike leaned in closer, so his lips were just grazing the shell of my ear. I tried my best to refrain from shuddering when his hot breath fanned my skin. "So, that won't be a problem."

He pulled away and after a few seconds of gazing upon my flustered state, he began walking into the direction of the bushes, still holding my hand while pulling me behind him.

Many scratches on my body and leaves in my hair later, we reached a clear spot that led us to the lake. With Germie following close behind, we continued our journey towards the body of water that was before us.

After arriving at our desired location, I sat down on a nearby rock as Germie dived head first into the water. Mike shouted at the dog to wait up as he began stripping down to his underwear. It took every bit of strength to keep myself from looking and when Mike noticed that, his smile only grew wider and more obnoxious. He emerged within the cool water and swam in the direction of his dog, while I stayed seated on the rock.

I took my shoes and socks off and dipped my feet into the lake, gently swaying my feet after I dunked them into the cool liquid. I tossed my head back and listened to the noise surrounding me — Mike playing with Germie, the birds singing the most heavenly of songs, the breeze swaying through the trees and making the branches creak as they brushed together; it truly was heaven. The sun felt amazing on my skin and made it all the more easier to drift off into a nice daydream.

I pictured me and Mike someday down the line, walking in the woods together just like today, hand in hand with our children running in front of us. I lay my head on his shoulder and sigh as I realize that I've gotten everything I've ever wanted.

Not too long into that sweet little fantasy, a splash of cool water to the face made me gasp out loud in shock. I stare wide-eyes at the culprit as he stands in the water before me, laughing at my expression like he wasn't gonna get it himself. I quickly submerged my hands in the water and moved them in one quick motion, instantly soaking his drier portions of his body.

I smirked victoriously at my victim as he shook his head to get rid of the extra droplets of water soaking his hair and face. I could feel my cheeks getting warmer at the sight of him — hair all disheveled and fallen into his eyes, wet body glistening under the sun, that sexy smile that I loved so much. I quickly looked away but not fast enough for him to not notice the new shade of crimson tinting my cheeks.

He swam closer towards me and raised a hand to my face, hooking a finger under my chin to pull my face back into the direction of his. That cocky look in his eyes had long gone away and was now replaced with a look of love and passion.

"Y'know, there is room for one more?" He rasped in a tone a few octaves lower than his usual one — one that was now reserved for only me.

I could feel the warmth in my cheeks growing hot like a furnace and I couldn't help but smile through the embarrassment I felt. I glanced down and let out a soft chuckle, "You know I can't swim."

"I can always teach you?" He offered confidently. "Or, I can let ya ride on my back as I take you around a few laps?"

I let out a laugh at his suggestion and nodded my head. Before I knew it, I was climbing onto my boyfriend's back and being taken around the lake like I'm on a jet ski or something. I could only imagine how goofy it would look in a stranger's eye. But I didn't really care. The only thing that mattered was us. Well — us and Germie.

The Shepard swam over to us and instantly tried to climb onto Mike as well, not understanding that he could only handle one of our weights and not two put together. Though we fell apart and landed a couple feet away from each other, Mike never let go of my hand. He steadied himself and wrapped his big hands around my waist, holding onto it tight as we both laughed our asses off at what had just occurred.

"Germie!" He shouted through the cracks of air he got between laughs. "Not cool, dude!"

The dog barked in response and we both had a good chuckle. Though he was a handful most of the time, we loved that dog with all of our heart. And I say "heart" because I believe that me and Michael's heart had officially became one in that very moment. Once we both calmed down from the hysterical moment, Mike's firm grip on me grew gentle as the look in his eyes melted into something that was more soft. He held me close against his chest — thumbs gently massaging my sides — while looking deeply into my shy orbs with his own.

"I'm so glad I'm here right now..." He murmured. "—Here with you and you alone."

His sweet words made my heart flutter like a happy little butterfly. It was as if all that doubt about our relationship had finally faded away into pure hope for a beautiful future together. I leaned in slowly and took his lips in my own for a passionate kiss. It lasted only a few minutes but it felt like time stood still as if I had died and descended to beautiful heaven. After pulling away, I couldn't help but smile as my heart swelled with love for the man that was before me.

Mike nuzzled his face into the crook of my neck and took a deep breath — almost as if he was taking in my scent — before whispering in my ear, "Let's go. This adventure isn't over yet."

He pulled back from our warm embrace and took my hand in his own, carefully leading me out of the water as he did so. Before I knew it, Mike was fully clothed and I was putting on my socks and shoes while Germie shook himself to dry off his soft coat of fur. And just a few minutes later, we were hiking back to our original path set between the trees — hand in hand — like we had been prior to this little side quest my boyfriend had set out on.

I didn't know where our future was heading — if we would still be here twenty years down the line, holding hands as we walk with our children — and I guess it didn't really matter. The truth is that we don't know what lays ahead of us. What really matters is that we enjoy our time in the present, and only hope that the beautiful moment we live in will last a lifetime. But until then — until I know for sure what my future holds — it'll just be me, my man and our dog walking up that trail.

And that's ok with me.

》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《》《

[ms-moonlight-inn]

WEEKLY TAG WEDNESDAY

Thank you, my darlings @jrooc @mybrainismelted @energievie

—

Name: That Bitch

What is the most listened to artist in your music app of choice this month? The Rolling Stones? (how the fuck did that happen?)

What song do you know all the lyrics to? Any song? Or a Stones song? Any song, off the top of my head, The Cure's "10:15 Saturday Night" & "Doing the Unstuck." By the Stones, ugh, I don't think I know any of their songs all the way through. Eep! 😬

What song do you pretend to know all the lyrics to and sing along to even though you don’t? Oof, so many. One that comes to mind right now is "Echame La Culpa" by Luis Fonsi & Demi Lovato.

If you were to be crowned Queen/King/Royalty of listening to a band or artist, who would that be? Rancid.

What band/artist surprises you the most on your frequently listened to artists? I have no idea why the fuck Alanis Morissette continues to pop up on my random, also Maroon 5. At least I can say Taylor Swift pops up on my frequents 'cause I share my profile & people listen to her music. But the other two? 🤷🏻‍♀️ Why? 🤦🏻‍♀️

Favourite line from a song (or one you have been thinking about lately? One of my all time favorite songwriters is Jarvis Cocker. He has a way of turning a phrase that I find absolutely captivating.

In the song, "Seductive Barry," he wrote: "I will light your cigarette with a star that has fallen from the sky." Which is not a new phrase, but the way he uses it within the context of the song makes it ✨ special. ✨

Guilty pleasure band or song? Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam's "Can You Feel the Beat," & "We Don't Have to Take Our Clothes Off," by Jermaine Stewart.

Okay let’s talk fandom music:

Fave band or song you’ve discovered from a Fan Fic? I think the one that's stuck with my the most has been "I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles)" the Daniel Duke version of the song originally done by The Proclaimers. It was used in AllThatMatters' fic The Ghost of You and Me.

Fave Fanfic Playlist? I like clicking on to playlist to see what's on them, but I can't think of any memorable ones right now. I think for me I have clearer memories of songs that are attached to a specific moment in a storyline or that are suggested as a play-along during a chapter.

Fave Gallavich song? "Pink+ White," by Frank Ocean.

Do you listen to music recommended by the writer or an included playlist? If there is a song that is recommended in the beginning notes, I will listen to it while I'm reading or before I am reading if I am using the screen reader while I'm driving. I don't always get a chance to listen to everything, but I do like to hear a song or two in order to get into the atmosphere the writer's trying to create.

What song do you think is Gallavich coded? Oof, so many. Gimme a sec...

Well, on the angst side, I've had Beck's "Lost Cause" stuck in my head.

What’s a bop you want to share with your mutuals today?

🎶🎶🎶

Tagging @ian-galagher @sleepyfacetoughguy @creepkinginc @iandarling @transmurderbug @deathclassic @jademickian @blue-disco-lights with no pressure to play. Also, if you haven't been tagged, feel free to join. 🤗

[osaemu]

ミ★ can't go back, i'm haunted 🜚

in honor of today's distressing bsd chapter, i wrote a continuation of it for closure. haven't read the chapter yet? read it here

pairing: dazai x chuuya

summary: dazai had always been a constant in chuuya's life, but that was all about to change.

word count: ~0.9k

warnings: major bsd spoilers. blood. why do all my fics have blood in them? lots of angst. death. mentions of murder. mentions of suicide. not explicitly romantic but can be interpreted that way.

a/n: today's chapter killed me inside. killed. me. so obviously i had to write an angst fic to make my life even more miserable!!! also yeah there's some lines from the song haunted mixed in here 💞

being one of fyodor's vampire puppets was like being in a waking dream. chuuya was aware of his actions, but numb to any emotional sense. and yet, his lack of control didn't mean lack of courtesy.

fyodor saw what was happening a second too late – one second chuuya was just reaching out to close dazai's glazed eyelids, the next a soft blue light eminated from where his fingertips met dazai's bloodstained skin.

and a couple moments later, chuuya's mind clears. his senses return and he can clearly hear fyodor cursing over the intercom, but his focus is entirely on the scene in front of him – and it's straight out of his nightmares.

his cunning ex-partner, lying in a pool of his own blood. his eyes were closed, and as far as chuuya can tell, he wasn't breathing.

"fuck. fuck. dazai, can you hear me?" no response. "answer me, goddammit."

chuuya reached out and gently shakes dazai's shoulder, one of the few places he doesn't appear to be harmed in. "oi, dazai. answer me. fuck, wake up."

still, no response. but a couple seconds later, dazai coughs softly and hazily opens his eyes.

"ah, if it isn't my loyal dog..." dazai tries to smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace. as he speaks, a thin trail of blood drips down his beat-up face from the corner of his mouth.

chuuya tries his best to look angry, but his concern overwhelms his growing urge to punch dazai's bloodied face. "damn it, dazai, what the fuck happened?" 

"heh..."

"don't heh me, dazai. what-"

and it all comes back. every memory from chuuya's time under fyodor's influence. how dazai had tried to drown him. how chuuya had shot him.

and why dazai was dying.

chuuya wanted to deny the bloodbath in front of his eyes – he wanted to tell dazai that he'd be stuck with him for a long time yet, but he wasn't stupid. neither of them were.

both of them had seen enough bloodshed to know what a fatal wound looked like.

dazai must have seen the mix of emotions on chuuya's face, because he tried to smile again and reached out shakily. "don't... beat yourself up... over this."

chuuya exhaled a bitter laugh and shook his head. this would be all he thought about for the rest of his life – if he had been more careful, if he had been stronger, could he have stopped this hellscape from happening? was there was anything at all he could have done?

the distraught ginger's train of thought drove off the rails when he felt dazai's calloused hand rest on his shoulder. "i've waited so this... for so long..."

"does it hurt?" the words seem to escape from chuuya's mouth, and the unusually childish question makes dazai's eyes shine – with tears or with amusement, it's impossible to tell.

"s'kind of numb now," dazai murmurs, closing his eyes again. "if i..." his words are cut off when coughs, blood splattering on the floor next to him. 

"if i couldn't die next to a beautiful woman, i... i suppose i'm fine with dying by your side instead, my dog..."

"dazai, shut the fuck up and open your damn eyes. stay with me."

like always, dazai ignores chuuya's request and keeps talking. always so stubborn, even on death's door...

"chuuya, i... i lied."

that gets chuuya's attention. resisting the urge to tell dazai to save his breath, gray eyes meet brown and wait for him to elaborate.

"what i said... when you were drowning-" dazai tries to move his blood-slicked hair out of his eyes but fails, so chuuya leans in and does it instead.

"i wasn't kidding." dazai's eyes are fluttering shut again, and it's honestly a miracle he's stayed conscious this long. "i... i do believe there were some moments where... we truly did connect."

flashes of happier times flicker through both partners's minds. when dazai used to steal chuuya's hat, when chuuya would get angry after losing a video game, and all the times when each knew the other would have their back – always.

dazai's grip on chuuya's shoulder starts to weaken. their eyes meet for the last time, and everything they never said passes between the two in a heartbeat. finally at peace, dazai smiles up at chuuya and trails a bloody hand down his anguished face, eyes drinking in every last detail.

dazai's next breath is his last.

the lights flicker overhead, as if they too are mourning his loss. chuuya barely feels dazai's hand slip from his face and thud softly on the floor. his focus is entirely on dazai's now-peaceful features, free of the shackles he called life.

death had always fascinated dazai. from the very moment chuuya met him, he had taken every opportunity to try and commit suicide.

but this wasn't suicide. it was murder. and chuuya was the murderer.

"you're not gone, no, you can't be gone," the ginger breathes, gray eyes trailing over dazai's limp body. "c'mon, don't leave me like this, bastard. wake the fuck up, please, wake up..."

but a dead body can't be revived, not even by the most twisted of abilities. dazai was gone.

seconds, minutes, maybe even hours pass in the dimly-lit hallway. it's all the same to chuuya – for what is time without his ridiculous partner to share it with?

too many regrets, too little time. but life in the mafia has always been unforgiving, and if there's one thing chuuya's learned over the years, it's that there's a time and place for mourning.

so chuuya takes off his hat and places it gently on dazai's head, caressing it for a couple seconds before stepping away. he'd come back for the two of them later, but for now, he had a russian to kill.

a/n: even after writing all that i'm convinced that dazai's still alive. HE HAS TO BE. asagiri can't kill off sigma and dazai in the same chapter 😭

also requests are open and i really want to write bsd fluff headcanons and/or drabbles so drop any ideas u have in my ask box! love u lots 💞

anyways thanks sm for reading, and as always reblogs are very appreciated!