#it’s 10pm and I’m playing a scary game

[phantom-does-a-thing]

Me at the title screen of scary game: 😁

Me literally five seconds into the game: 😰

[sunfish-studies]

Celebration

✄・・・ Feathery Ink [Karasuno Manager Series]

➜ Pairing: Karasuno x Manager! Reader

➜ Warning: none

➜ Notes: This is a separate series from Crisp Leaves. Similar to Crisp Leaves, manager in this story will be portrayed as a girl. She will be tall. This is just my appreciation towards tall girls, you guys are amazing.

Previous:  ‹ Cogs › | Next:  ‹ Let The Games Begin! ›

↷ SUMMARY ↶

Last day of training calls for celebration for everyone’s hard work, so it’s barbeque time!

“All right, meat!”

“I’m starving!”

While the boys freshened up after practice matches, the managers were already on the move to prepare for the barbeque. Since there were quite a lot of people, the coaches decided to held it on the backyard of the gym, where the sharp hill stood just beside it. The coaches helped setting up the grills while the managers divided to cater different things.

Yachi decided she would get the utensils they needed; paper plates, chopsticks, paper cups, trays for rice balls, and other things. Shimizu would cover for the rice ball making, Yukie and Eri were in charge on cutting the vegetables in bite-size, Kaori and Mako would clean the vegetables before it was cut.

Meanwhile, you’re in charge of preparing the condiments and sauces, unwrapping the meat cuts, and arranged them on a bigger plate. Aside from that you had to make sure the meats searing on the grills weren’t charred.

“[Name]-chan, please replace me for cutting the onions,” Eri sobbed, reaching out to you with grabby hands.

“Alright, senpai,” you giggled in reply because Eri was clearly needing a break and watching the meats seared was a great break for her. Quickly, you stood on her place and started slicing the tear-induced-menaces after washing your hands.

It didn’t take long for you to suffer the same fate as the Ubugawa’s manager–the first seven slices went through without a hitch, but when you reached the tenth your eyes started to sting and blurry from the pain. Then tears began trailing down your cheeks, and you wiped it you’re your shirt sleeve.

“D-Don’t cry, [Name]-san!!” you looked up, seeing Hinata with his place face quivering on his feet. “W-what should I do!?”

“It’s fine, Shoyo-kun, it’s just the onions,” you sniffled pointed towards the bowl full of it. “It hurts my eyes.”

“I can take your place, Otohaku-chan!” Lev popped up beside Hinata.

“Instead of cutting the onions, you’ll chop your fingers off,” Yaku deadpanned before offering. “Here, let me do it.”

“No, it’s alright, Yaku-san,” you shook your head. “It’s time for you to have a break, not working.”

Being persistent sometimes has it’s perks, it took numbers of rejection to finally have Yaku gave up. You knew he was just trying to help, but you didn’t want to rob his time relaxing. When all the preparations were done, the boys were already surrounding the grills with hungry faces. Coach Nekomata gave them a light speech along with praises for their hard work over the week, and they dived to grab on the meat straight from the grill.

“THANKS FOR THE FOOD!”

Just like Kaori, you brought a plate of rice balls to offer and managed to witnessed Yukie’s enormous appetite. She practically inhaled four rice balls in one go and you’re not the only who was dumbfounded from it.

.

.

Konoha and Komi almost had their souls went to heaven from the frightening circle Nishinoya, Tanaka, and Taketora made. Well, they did elbow each other to encourage one another getting close or at least having a talk with Shimizu. The girl walked pass them holding a paper plate with food–looking extremely gorgeous and she didn’t even try.

“That was scary,” Konoha muttered underneath his breath. The three finally stopped because of Karasuno and Nekoma’s captain scolded them–the three immediately shrunk.

“They really had their guard up, huh,” Komi added, feeling his energy drained from such a scary encounter.

“Uhm, excuse me,” the two turned to look over their shoulder and that’s when they noticed–Karasuno’s other first year manager who’s Bokuto constantly talking about. The owl captain wouldn’t shut up about her much to their annoyance and now they knew why.

“Would you like some rice ball?”

“Sure,” Konoha replied dumbly.

“I’ll take two,” Komi followed with a daze. You placed one on Konoha’s empty paper plate and two for Komi upon his request. Smiling at them, you proceeded to excuse yourself so you could offer to someone else.

Following your figure dazedly, they noticed how the light shone even brighter and basked you in a beautiful glow. That’s when they thought of a conclusion.

A goddess just graces us mere mortals! They screamed in their head.

.

.

You tried to calm Yachi down from her traumatizing experience being surrounded by absurdly tall boys (“Titans, [Name]-chan! Titans!”). Thankfully, all of them were nice enough to made room so your friend could reach for some meat. Yachi almost cried in happiness from the real taste of meat.

From the sidelines, Shimizu and the other managers were watching the two of you while talking about the boys sometimes.

“How much are you going to eat?” Kaori questioned because Yukie was having a ridiculous amount of food towering on her plate and she just kept munching away without care.

“The third-years in Karasuno all seems pretty mature,” Mako commented.

“Our ace is weak-willed, though,” Shimizu smiled sheepishly.

“What? Really?” Eri replied in surprise. “Even though he looks that scary?”

“Though, I think that’s still better than our simpleton ace,” Kaori commented. “Still,”

Their eyes were directed towards where the said simpleton ace was standing and placing meat until it towered on your empty plate.

“Eat more, [Name]-chan! Or you won’t get even taller!” he stated.

“And eat more vegetables!” Kuroo added, placing cabbages and carrots to your plate, adding even more food.

“Have some rice balls, too.” Somehow, even Akaashi participated in this whole fiasco and put a rice ball onto your plate. Now, there’s a ridiculous amount of food on your plate.

“…I can’t eat this much,” you commented, staring at the food filling your plate.

“Nonsense, I don’t see you eat anything even when the others are,” Akaashi stated. “You’re too busy handling other things nonstop.”

“Have a break will you,” Kuroo patted your back. “Everyone’s having fun and you should too.”

“Have more meat, [Name]-san!” Hinata said.

“You can have my share, Otohaku-chan!” Lev followed and you immediately shook your head.

“At least he and Akaashi took care of our baby manager well,” Kaori sighed in relief.

“[Name]-chan is close with Fukurodani’s captain and setter, huh? Even Nekoma’s captain,” Mako giggled. “She’s drawing everyone in.”

“Well, it’s rare for a first-year to be as tall as her,” Eri grinned. “The boys are especially poles so it’s probably great not to strain their neck once in a while from looking down.”

“Karasuno’s pretty lucky to have her, huh?” Yukie said after swallowing her food.

“Yeah, we are,” Shimizu smiled.

.

.

“Did you have fun?” Sawamura asked you when you’re helping other managers to clean up the remaining plates left behind on the table along with other scraps littering around. He picked up a few paper cups and placed it into the trash bin.

“Definitely,” you answered without hesitation. “Everyone’s so nice, it’s probably the most fun I’ve had.”

“Thank goodness, then,” he gave you a smile.

“I’m really glad I joined the volleyball club,” you commented, grinning.

“And we glad to have you here,” the captain chuckled and replied.

Everything was over by the time the sun started to sink into the horizon–time truly flew by when you enjoyed it. Since Miyagi was quite a distance from Saitama, they needed to depart first or they would be back extremely late at night. Yukie and Eri were fake-crying and joking about refusing to let you go–in the end, you’re all exchanging numbers so you could keep in touch.

“Did you have fun, Otohaku-san?”

“Coincidentally, you asked the same question as my captain, Akaashi-san.” The Fukurodani setter, like before, helping you on carrying the extra luggage in hand although you did tell him it’s only until you reached the stairs. “And to answer, I am. These one week of training camp is fun. Somehow, I don’t want this to be over.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll meet again,” Akaashi replied. “At the Spring Interhigh.”

“I’m sure we will, Akaashi-san.” you smiled. “And thank you for helping me with luggage.”

“[Name]-chan!!” Bokuto bounded over with a grin plastered on his face. “We’ll be waiting at the nationals!”

“Karasuno, Bokuto-san. Otohaku-san doesn’t play volleyball.” Akaashi deadpanned.

“Just agree with me once, Akaashi!”

“Well, whatever he said,” Kuroo piped up, approaching the three of you. “Made sure your team go to the nationals so we could meet again and make the battle came true.”

“I’ll do my best, Kuroo-san.” Then Kuroo reached out to ruffle your hair, it’s been a while since he did that and you weren’t even going to lie about enjoying it. The cat captain was similar to an older brother now.

“Off you go then, [Name],” he removed his hand from your head. “And don’t miss me.”

“How could I when I have your phone number, Kuroo-san?” you snickered. “You’re probably going to bombard me with chemistry puns at 10pm.”

“Then, I’m gonna call you every day so you won’t have to deal with Kuroo!” Bokuto declared before laughing victoriously.

“Please block his number immediately, Otohaku-san,” Akaashi stated. “Or you won’t be getting any sleep. His talking is endless.”

“Why, Akaashi!?” the said boy whined.

“Aside from that, be careful on your way home,” Akaashi decided to ignore the captain and gave you a small smile.

You returned his smile. “Will do, Akaashi-san.”

With that, the whole week of summer training camps has come to an end. The whole team watched you guys drove away into the other way back to Miyagi.

.

.

“You have a match tomorrow, don’t you?” former Coach Ukai questioned, brows creased from the insistence of your combi. “That’s probably enough, then!”

“One more! Just one more!” Hinata pleaded.

“We’ll finish after this one!” Kageyama added.

Two days of practicing to prepare for the preliminaries, just a day before the match Sawamura dismissed them early to get some rest. Since it would be impossible to use the gym unless getting an earful from him, Kageyama and Hinata needed to look for another place. Former Coach Ukai lent them the court only for a bit, just until the others who wants to practice comes.

And you were there to hold a leash if they’re being stubborn or something.

“This is the last, alright?” you scolded the two. “We shouldn’t bother the others who wants to practice here. And you should rest before the match.”

Thankfully the older man letting them had the court just one more time and you couldn’t help but feeling grateful of it. You sighed before turning to face former Coach Ukai and bowed down. “On their behalf, I apologize.”

“It’s fine.” Former Coach Ukai dismissed it. “Their eagerness is a great thing, but even eagerness isn’t going to magically give them energy. It would be bad if they burnt out even before the game started.”

“[Name]-san! Can you throw us the ball?” Hinata called out.

In the end, the two managed to successfully killed the quick–and sure enough, it also impressed former Coach Ukai which added more reassurance that your team would be more than okay to face the entire preliminaries and became champions.

[haik-choo]

I don't write cause I feel I don't have a good grasp on the characters personalities etc, the characterisation of akaashi post is so helpful! 👀👀 Would you do kuroo or bokuto?

a/n: I hope you like both of these! again, if yall want me to do others, let me know! these are across the span of their life, so some may seem college-related and some may seem young-adulty! 

[MISCHARACTERIZATIONS OF BOKUTO AND KUROO]

bokuto kotaro.

clueless: i’ve stated this in akaashi’s post, but bokuto is extremely emotionally intelligent. he can pick up on the slightest changes in people’s demeanor or posture, he can tell if someone is sad or happy even if they aren’t good at displaying emotions. he’s not a dumbass -- and he can pick up on others’ limits and boundaries very quickly. despite his ability to read people relatively well, he has no qualms about pushing people out of their comfort zones and forcing them to do things they might hate at first, but will love later. he pushes boundaries according to your comfort level, and respects your hard limits. 

only positive: a lot of people write bokuto to be someone ho’s only happy-go-lucky, or someone who rarely gets sad (aside from his moods that are less sad and more discouraged), but I think that almost dehumanizes him. he gets back up faster than most, yes, and at the end of a lost game where everyone is crying, bokuto is dry-eyed. he’s the type to get home and plop down on his bed, face-first into his pillow, lips quivering and eyes lightly watering. there are times where he feels insecure, especially when he’s younger, just because he can tell he’s different from the rest. he has a feeling that people are put-off from his personality, he has a feeling that he’s not as (traditionally/academically) smart as everyone else, he has a feeling that some people find him annoying. that’s why when he’s near his close friends he’s very loose -- he doesn’t feel the need to hold back even a little because he knows that they love him for him. this translates to his toxic trait with his lover being that he feels dejected/insecure if you ever want space. while he can read boundaries, he would really benefit from a lover who has just as few as he, because then he can be his truest self.

love-at-first-sight: he’s not the type to fall in love at one glance, he’s just not. yes, he might get interested or you may catch his attention, but he’s not going to fall in love with someone because they have a pretty smile. it’s not that he’s calculated or over-thinks his emotions, he knows exactly what he feels, it’s just that his heart is a little slow when it comes to falling in love. he’s such an energetic all-over-the-place person that love is never really on his mind (he gets into some trouble with accidentally leading girls on because he’s so friendly). when he eventually falls in love, though....oh boy. he stutters, he’s over-thinking all his movements when it comes to you -- he’s usually impulsive but with you he really, really doesn’t want to screw up. he wants everything to go smoothly -- so he’s the type to plan out a confession and actually try to stick to it. when it comes to something like love, bokuto is surprisingly slow and careful, because he knows how fragile a heart is. 

never gets angry: i think most people like to imagine his anger is so rare because the image of an angry bokuto is scary, especially with his stature. and while it’s true his anger is uncommon (because he’s good at processing his own emotions and not lashing out at others), when he does get angry it can be pretty unnerving. he’s the type to slam his fist on the counter unknowingly when having a really bad fight with his lover, and he has a booming voice. he’d never hit someone, but he doesn’t realize how intimidating his physique is. anger is uncommon, but that doesn’t mean he’s not scary. he always apologize afterwards, though.

boundless confidence: i touched on it earlier, that he has bouts of insecurity, but again, i really want to emphasize that he’s not endlessly confident. honestly, maybe in the anime and manga he seems that way, but if you want to make him more human, have more life than a fictional character, you have to create limits or certain traits. bokuto is very sensitive, and the slightest thing can either inflate his ego or deflate it. plays in volleyball constantly not working may dig at his confidence, but he always re-inflates. in real life, outside the court, there are things that keep his confidence low everytime they happen. fights with his lover are one of these things; he’ll get jealous when they leave the apartment after a fight because he’ll worry about you finding someone more stable than him. jealousy alone is a solid sign of chipped confidence, something that someone as sensitive as bokuto gets every once in a while. 

overall, bokuto is a lot more intelligent than what people give him credit for. he’s honest with his own emotions and can read people very well, which is probably why he’s such a people person, but he still has flaws. he does not have boundless confidence or have no perception of boundaries; he’s unbelievably understanding. he may be initially insecure, have intimidating anger, etc. but ,after all, he’s human, isn’t he? 

kuroo tetsuro. 

sex god: don’t get me wrong, I definitely believe that he’s had a lover or two, especially in college, and that he’s played the field a little bit. but i don’t see him as the guy that has had sex with every person in his major. he’s a genuine guy and can’t have sex with someone he’s not emotionally invested in -- despite not being a ‘player’, he’s totally gotten in trouble with a few people because they think he’s leading them on when he walks with them to class everyday. 

intimidating: people always characterize him as this mysterious, sexually intimidating guy, but i just can’t see him as someone intimidating. if anything, he may be a little unapproachable because he has a really tight knit group of friends that he’s always with, but he’s not scary. he’s not the center of attention but he’s not a wallflower either, he enjoys observing people and watching drama play out, but he’s not silent and glaring all the time. he’s quite fun, he’s loud, and he enjoys embarrassing his friends in public. he’s the type to twerk in public and laugh his ass off when akaashi or kenma give him the side-eye and bro-kuto joins in. he likes to have fun, ya know? i don’t know about you, but a guy that twerks in public isn’t very scary, to me at least. 

prideful: I understand why people paint him as a prideful guy, he obviously likes what he does and has a personable personality, but honestly, he’s not perfect. he often has moments where he doubts himself because of his past decisions, his career one of them. kuroo is an amazing middle blocker, and his choice to go into sports advertisement rather than an actual volleyball league no doubt haunts him at night sometimes. he thinks of the ‘what-ifs’, and he dreams of what he could be. especially since his best friend is bokuto, a professional player, it’s often on his mind. it’s a super touchy subject for him, and if someone were to question his job-choice i have no doubt that he’d get really sour and distant from that person because he’s not sure of himself either. 

frat boy: he’s not someone who can’t cook, he’s not someone who sleeps at 5am everyday, hungover. he’s not the type of person to be immature in any way -- he’s got his shit together. i’m sure most people can actually see this, but kuroo is very responsible and realistic (which is part of the reason he didn’t do professional volleyball). he does his taxes, does his homework, gives out good advice, gets up early and eats everything that a healthy person should eat (in all the right proportions, too). he doesn’t even drink often, if anything he’s just a social drinker. he goes to bed at 10pm and wakes up at 6am to work out, no joke. he’s gotta keep that physique somehow. 

decisive: i know i said he’s responsible, but i don’t think that translates to decisive. i can see him having a lot of conflicting things going on in his life, different wants and different paths that he wants to take but can’t keep all open. it happens in love, his career, his college major, etc. he wants a lot in life, he wants success, happiness, a good love-life, everything. when he had to choose between volleyball and a life-long, stable career, he was broken for weeks. was he good enough for his dream? was it wise to chase his dream? would it be better to get more kids into volleyball, do what he did, what he couldn’t do? in his love life he always hesitates, too: does he see a life with them? how long will they love him? will they be able to deal with him once they see that he’s not perfect? is it worth it? it doesn’t matter if he’s in love or not, because his extreme caution can come off as very distant and unwilling to let you in, hence his toxic trait. he’s indecisive, scared, yet passionate and hard-working. 

overall, kuroo is full of contradiction. he wants a lot from life and is willing to work for it. he has dreams and tries to stay healthy and put himself out there, have fun, the whole shabang -- but he’s not perfect. he’s overly cautious when it comes to making important decisions simply because he can see a future with all of the different paths he can take. but honestly, isn’t everyone a little contradictory? 

[mandoalorian]

sensational

Maxwell Lord x F!Reader

Summary: Maxwell is away on a business trip for work, and you’re missing him more than you anticipated.

Word count: 2,2k

Warnings: 18+ smut; guided masturbation, male masturbation, female masturbation, light degradation, edging, orgasm denial, phone sex, long distance after care 🥺

Authors note: I’ve missed writing. So here’s a little something for Maxie cuz I’ve missed him too :( <3

Maxwell had only been gone sixteen hours. He left at 6am, and it was currently: you rolled over to check the time on your bedside alarm clock. 10pm. You frowned, pulling the crushed velveteen blankets up to your chin. He was probably fast asleep now anyway— after the flight and a long day proposing business scheme after business scheme.

You missed him a lot. He promised to call you every morning and every night, so long as he wasn’t swamped at the office. That was his promise and truthfully, you thought you’d be okay. He was only due to be away for a week. You knew a lot of other long-distance couples had it much worse. But being alone in his big suburban house was more isolating than you had ever even considered. It felt empty without him, and it didn’t feel like home anymore.

At least tomorrow you’d get to see Alistair, so that was a plus. You mentally groaned as you remembered how you were going to have to visit Maxwell’s ex-wife in order to pick up his son. She didn’t seem to like you all that too much, and to be honest, you could probably do without the chore of visiting her every Tuesday evening and putting up with her crap. It would be okay though. Alistair was worth it.

Your mind wandered back to your boyfriend. Your smart, handsome and powerful boyfriend with the honey coloured hair and chocolate brown eyes. He was always soft and warm— and a fantastic lover. Not only he was an excellent businessman, but he was also a brilliant father and a wonderful partner. He really was the perfect man for you.

You smiled wickedly to yourself as you remembered last night, and the antics you had both gotten up to before he had to leave in the morning. It was a long, passionate night. Your fingers ghosted over the love bites and bruises that were peppered across your neck and collarbones, and you gasped at the memory, a familiar heat rushing down your body.

If only he was here now… you two could’ve done it all over again.

Your glazed eyes flicked up to the telephone that was on your bedside table. You must’ve been staring at it for a good few minutes, contemplating things. Maxwell had scrawled the number to his hotel room down on a card before he’d left… just in case of an emergency.

You dipped your hand down to your cunt and felt your breathing hitch as you gathered all your slick on your fingers. You hadn’t realised just how wet you’d become.

Just call him. The devil on your shoulder urged. If he was sleeping, you certainly didn’t want to wake him but… surely there was no harm in an innocent goodnight call. At least then, you could hear his warm voice and his articulate words.

Maxwell Lord had you whipped.

Sighing, you took the phone from the hook and dialled his number. He answered on the first two rings.

“Hey honey,” he had a tired lilt to his voice, but just the depth and richness of his tone was enough to set a blaze in your tummy. “I was just about to go to bed,” he continued. “It’s late. Why are you still up?”

Yes, his voice was giving you everything you had desired, and more.

You swallowed thickly, your finger tracing lazy circles over your clit. “Mm couldn’t sleep. Was thinkin’ bout you.” you revealed, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible. If you could get off to his voice alone, without having him notice what you were doing, that would be perfect. If he did catch on that you were touching yourself without his permission though… that would be a different story. “Miss you.” you exhaled, your eyes snapping shut.

“I miss you too sweetheart,” Max sighed, and you could faintly hear him shuffle around in his bed, the sheets making a fuzzy noise on the other end of the line. “What— what were you thinking about?”

The question was a trap. You knew Max all too well. He was right to have his suspicions.

You didn’t even bother opening your eyes, and you tried to repress a longing whine as your finger involuntary picked up speed, like some kind of reflex reaction to his question. “S-stuff,” you stammered out when you felt your fingers begin to dampen and slip between your folds. But ‘S-stuff’ was hardly going to be good enough for Maxwell. You dipped two fingers inside you, surprised at how well they were stretching you. “Mm— Max, miss— I miss—“

You couldn’t even finish your sentence, already close to pushing your first climax out.

“Princess?” Max asked. “You there?”

Your response was delayed but was followed by a stifled moan that wasn’t lost on Max whatsoever. “Need you.” you gasped out, dropping the phone to your pillow by your head so you could use your other hand to rub yourself.

The friction of your digits rubbing against that sweet spot and the way your index finger and middle finger curled up inside of you was too much. You could feel yourself coming undone.

“Oh,” Max omitted knowingly, unable to contain the small smirk that was crossing his lips. “Oh baby.”

He felt his cock twitch from the faint little whimpers you were making, and he slid his hand under the waistband of his light grey sweats, freeing his already semi-hard erection.

“Tell me princess,” Max hummed. “What ‘stuff’ were you thinking about?”

Fuck. You wanted to curse. He knew. He clearly knew you were touching yourself to the sound of his voice; probably thinking you were needy and desperate. But you were. You really were and you’d give anything just to feel his hands on you right now.

“S-so much,” you answered, trying your hardest to collect your thoughts for him. “Undressing me. Caressing me. Mm, you playing with my tits like you always do. Kissing them— sucking them. Biting…” you reluctantly pulled your finger from your clit and began to palm at your breasts. “Come home.”

The two words were practically begging him. You ached for him. Your entire body was burning with arousal and you needed him more than you’d ever needed anyone before.

You knew it was a stupid request; and that he couldn’t just ‘come home’. But if you could have one wish— it would be for him to be on top of you right now, smothering you with kisses and whispering dirty little words into your ears.

“M-Max?” your voice was broken as you continued curling your fingers inside of you.

His fingers were wrapped around his own length now, pumping it as he imagined you sprawled out, naked on his king-sized bed. The grey sweats and white shirt had been long discarded onto the floor.

“I’m right here baby,” he assured, gathering the beads of milky white precum and rubbing it up and down his cock. “I’m here. Why— why don’t you take my pillow and grind your pretty pussy over it hm? I know you can get off like that, you dirty girl.”

Another uncontrollable whine omitted from your lips at his light degradation. You followed his orders, knowing better than to disobey. Taking his pillow, you got on your knees and positioned it in between your legs, holding the phone to your ear as you began to thrust your hips.

You imagined it be his lap. You’d rubbed yourself over his thighs plenty of times, making a mess of his designer pants and creating stains not even the drycleaner’s could remove. His pillow still vaguely smelt of his apple scented shampoo and it only spurred you on even more.

“I bet you look so pretty right now,” Maxwell grunted. “My pretty girl. What are you?”

You squeezed your eyes shut as the pleasure rifed through your veins. “I’m your pretty girl.” you confirmed, feeling your cheeks heat up when Max chuckled.

It was a sensation overload— and you knew you wouldn’t be able to last. Maxwell knew too, judging by the way your moans picked up and became jagged. “God— Ma-Mmm—Max,” your thoughts were fuzzy and jumbled as you increased your pace. You wanted to feel something inside of you again. Your fingers or a dildo or— something, anything. But you weren’t even sure if you’d get the chance. “I’m so close,” you warned. “Gonna— gonna cum—“

“No,” Max said darkly, his voice having lowered an octave. “Roll on your back princess, and pull the pillow off you.”

You wanted to cry. You knew he always liked to play these games.

“B—but,” you choked out, wanting to finish and reach your orgasm.

“Don’t make me ask again.”

He was using that scary business voice. The one you often overheard when he was on the phone with partners or associates. Reluctantly you pulled the pillow away from your weeping cunt put it back in its place.

“O-okay,” you mused, wiping the tears that had pricked at the corner of your eyes as you changed position and got comfortable on your back, just like he’d instructed.

“I wish I was with you sweetheart, wish I could fuck your little pussy. How wet are you?”

“Very.” you replied exasperated, desperately waiting for him to let you touch yourself again.

“Show me,” Maxwell smiled wickedly. “Move the phone in between your legs and finger yourself. I want to hear you.”

You frantically followed his instruction and inserted your two fingers inside of you, pushing them deep and curling them upwards so they hit that hot, spongey sweet spot. Your legs were shaking and your back was arched over top of the satin sheets as you panted your boyfriend’s name.

Max was more than thrilled to hear the squelching wet noise that echoed throughout the comfort of yours and his shared bedroom, with every thrust and curl of your fingers. It felt good but… it just wasn’t him.

Now his own broken gasps were audible. You loved to hear him. He always got loud when he was close. That’s how you knew he was about to finish. “So— so good. Sweetest cunt in the whole fuck—fucking world. When I come home I— gonna fuck you so hard.” he promised in between shaky breaths.

Your lips curled into a grin and you arched your back as your slick dipped down the softness of your inner thighs. After all the edging and over stimulation, there was no way you were going to last. This was exactly what you wanted; Max may not have been physically there but his voice alone had always worked wonders.

“Can we— can we cum togeth—“ your request was fuzzled by the way you buried your head into your pillow, feeling a warm flush of heat race to your core.

“Yes,” Max cut you off impatiently. “Are you close?”

“Y-yeah, I don’t think I can hold it—“

“You can baby, you can. I’m going to count down from three and we’ll cum together. Okay?”

You were a screaming sweating mess at this point, and his countdown couldn’t have felt any slower. Three seconds felt like three years as you mustered all your will to obey him.

“Three, two, one—“

He didn’t even say zero. The countdown was followed by a long groan falling from his lips as his milky white seed spilt all over his fist and his tummy. His cry pushed you over the edge and you released your own climax, spasming and shaking on his side of the bed.

You curled up under his sheets, still shaky, and pulled the phone back to your ear. “Hi,” you whispered sheepishly. “That was good.” you bit down on your lip, smiling to yourself. Your own voice was a little hoarse from all the moaning and whimpering.

“Yeah,” Max agreed, smiling himself. “Are you okay?”

“I’m tired,” you admitted with a huff, relishing in his cologne scented blankets.

“Wish I was there to clean you up,” Max sighed, and for a split second, he pondered the consequences of catching the next flight home.

He always took care of you after sex, paying a meticulous amount of detail to how you acted after your moments of shared intimacy. He’d fetch you water and wipe away any mess with a warm wash cloth. Sometimes he’d even help you into some cozy pyjamas or one of his shirts.

“I can go clean myself up, don’t worry about me,” you hummed in contentment. “Are you okay?”

“I’m perfect baby,” he grinned “I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”

“I can let you go—“

“No,” you cut him off, clutching onto the phone not wanting him to leave. Yeah you’d missed the amazing sex but truthfully, you’d missed him the most. “Can we uhm, can we just stay here on the phone together? Fall asleep together? I— I want you to be there when you wake up.”

Max hesitated for a moment, but he didn’t see a problem with your request. In fact, he thought it was a wonderful idea.

“Yeah, of course honey,” he replied softly. “I’m gonna go wipe myself down. You should do the same.”

“O-okay,” you sniffed. “I love you. I won’t be long.”

When you returned, Max was already waiting for you. “Princess?” he called, when he heard you shuffle back into bed.

“Hiya,” you giggled, rubbing your eyes. “I’m sleepy.” you admitted, your statement followed by a yawn.

Max chuckled. “Has my girl worn herself out?”

You laughed and nodded your head. “Yeah.”

“Okay sweetheart, let’s go sleep.” Max hummed, resting the phone by his pillow and closing his eyes.

“Okay, good night Maxie.” you mused softly.

“Good night honey.” He returned, before you both fell asleep.

——————

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[abbysfrenchbraid]

Daring - Chapter 2

This is part two of my Abby Mordern!Au, you can read Chapter 1 here.

Masterlist

Abby and the reader have dinner at Abby's place. There is music playing and referenced, so I'd recommend you listen to this playlist with all the songs playing in order as soon as the date night begins. About 10k words.

CW for alcohol consumption, mention of death/murder, mention of dubious consent (and possibly terrible grammar. It's 10pm, I just finished this, I don't have a proofreader atm)

Thyme and Tree Bark

“Don’t mess this up, airhead. Take care!”

“Yeah, yeah. Bye, idiot!”

You closed the door behind Mark as he vanished down the stairs and headed straight for your bed. Though you were less wobbly on your feet after devouring half of a perfectly cheesy pizza with just the right amount of jalapenos, it had thrown you straight into a food coma. Your angel of a brother had come over at noon with two chilled cans of coke and a large pizza from your favorite Italian place and not even ripped open the curtains as he usually did. Instead, he had thrown himself on the bed right next to you, handed you a slice, and demanded you start talking.

Of course, he already knew about Abby and your embarrassing shyness when it came to the buff blonde, so he was extremely proud of the progress you had made with your excruciating crush. You both agreed that Abby had definitely invited you over for a date this week - alone, without Manny there - and that it had to mean she was interested, too. He had laughed about the little bar stint when Abby had shut down your flirt with the hot waitress in an instant and was now 100% sure this was going to go great. As long as you kept it together and didn’t ruin everything. As you often did. This needed some tactical planning.

Mouths full of cheesy delight and laughing at each other’s stupid ideas, you and your brother had come up with a fairly foolproof plan. You would text Abby in 1-2 days, keeping it cool and asking when you should come over. Then, you would suggest making cocktails at home, already granting a fun activity and something to loosen the mood. You would keep it casual and bring over some nice liquor and maybe a bag of chips, perfect for watching a movie. You’d try to keep the conversation casual and try to speak mostly about Abby, asking lots of questions so you didn’t get tangled up in speaking about yourself. If you steered the conversation toward movies, you could watch something exciting and maybe even scary together so you could cuddle up on the couch together. And well, if you got that far, things would probably fall into place naturally. Foolproof. Y/N-proof.

You groaned as you reached over to grab your phone from your nightstand. You had a message from your mom asking if you wanted to come over for dinner next weekend and an email from your professor who wanted to submit your last essay to some kind of grant application. You’d have to answer her later, your head still felt like it was filled with cotton. Instead, you sent Leah a message.

-Hey, you still alive? There’s leftover pizza and coke over here.

Five seconds later, there was a delighted squeal at the other side of the wall and you heard the click of your roommate’s door before yours opened and Leah tiptoe-danced inside, beaming at you. She was wearing nothing but an extremely tight-fitting cropped wifebeater and a khaki thong, accentuating her long legs as she leaped right onto your bed and almost made you fly as her weight hit the mattress. You tried not to stare at her perfectly toned abs as she opened the gigantic carton and held up a slice of pizza over her head, letting the tip dangle in her mouth before biting down with a moan that made you snort awkwardly.

“Good morning, you animal.”

Leah just moaned again, making a grabbing motion with her hand and pointing toward the second can of coke on your nightstand. You laughed silently as you handed her the cold can, condensed water running down the sides and wetting your fingers. You wiped them on the blanket. The tall brunette swallowed hard and took a sip of coke.

“Good morning, womanizer.” She grinned widely. “I’m so proud of you, man. This is the first time I’ve seen you in action and I can safely say Abby was just as surprised as I was.”

You buried your face in your hands.

“Oh god, was I that obvious? Did I do anything inappropriate? I thought it went well, but now I’m not so sure.” You spread your fingers to peak at your roommate who was currently chewing on a ginormous bite, tomato juice running down her chin. No manners, that girl. She just shook her head and made a noise somewhere between protest and encouragement.

“No, you were fine,” she said with a full mouth, “very tipsy, but cute. I hope you remember Abby inviting you to her place.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

You ran your fingers through your hair, immediately getting stuck in a tangle of knots. God, you needed a shower.

“Yeah, I already went over it with Mark. We made a plan so I won’t embarrass myself.”

“Good. I hope it goes well, you two would be cute together. Hot, even. I mean, no one can deny the allure of those biceps. And her ass?! Godly.” She easily evaded the kick you aimed at her ribs, laughing and slapping your shin away.

“Come on, let’s not act like you’re not ogling her every chance you get. I am, too - the woman looks like a greek goddess!”

“That’s enough,” you giggled, aiming another playful kick in her direction but only lightly hitting her in the thigh. “I know what she looks like.”

“Right. And soon, you’ll hopefully see a lot more of her.” This time, Leah jumped off the bed before your toes could sink right into her side. You tried to suppress a grin as you two stared at each other for a moment before Leah sat back down cross-legged and began eating the last slice of pizza.

“I mean,” she said casually, “you have seen more of a woman before, right?”

You grabbed your coke and turned it in your hands before answering.

“Yeah, I have. It wasn’t… It wasn’t all that, though. Just one time and we were both so nervous it was just awkward.”

Now Leah looked at you with a mixture of shock and pity.

“Come on, Y/N. Only once? You’ve never seen stars because of a woman’s tongue? Never screamed into a pillow because of some skilled sapphic strap game? Never lost your mi-”

“Leaahhhh!” You groaned, feeling blood shoot into your cheeks. “No, okay? I… I made the other girl cum, but for me, it was just… it was too unfamiliar and I didn’t know her well enough to really let myself enjoy it.”

Suddenly a thought crossed your mind and you felt your eyes open wide.

“Wait. Has Abby…? Is she..?”

Leah paused mid-bite and thought for a second.

“Well, she does have experience with men, obviously. As far as women go… I honestly don’t know. She’s dated a few, but it never went longer than a couple of weeks. I don’t know how fast things go with her and she’s never gone into detail with me. I have to ask Nora about that.”

“Don’t you dare! She’ll know this is about me and tell Abby!”

“Oh come on, I’m interested, too.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell you so you know what to prepare for, win-win!” She nudged your foot and gave you a mischievous half-smile.

“For god’s sake, do what you must.” You finished your coke and threw it perfectly into the bin beside your desk. Leah gave you an impressed nod. “And now I desperately need a shower. There is a literal nest on top of my head.”

“True,” Leah said and stood up, stretching her limbs as she walked to the door. “Thanks for the pizza. I’m gonna ask Jordan if he wants to come over, so don’t walk out naked if you don’t want a threesome.” She winked at you before closing the door, but a small part at the back of your brain knew that she wasn’t completely joking. You sighed and swung your legs off your bed. No point in lying around, it was past 3 pm anyway.

Grabbing your phone, a shirt, and some clean boxers, you headed for the bathroom. You took your time showering, detangling the mess on your head with lots of conditioner, humming along to Marika Hackman’s cover of I Follow Rivers as you stood under the hot stream of water and brushing your teeth for at least five minutes while waiting for a hair mask to do its magic. When you stepped out of the shower, the bathroom was filled with hot steam and you felt like a whole new person. You slipped into your fresh clothes and held the blow dryer to the mirror until your reflection was clear.

So. Here you were. Finally, you had spoken to the woman of your dreams and even flirted with her. She may have even been jealous of your short conversation with Ellie, the bartender. Tomorrow, you would text her, you would be brave and cool and not at all awkward. As you collected your clothes off the floor and took your phone, you suddenly realized something that would destroy your entire plan. You didn’t even have Abby’s phone number. Why hadn’t you asked her? Of course, you could ask Leah for it, but Abby would know because she knew she hadn’t given it to you. It would be a lot less cool and casual. Fuck.

You stepped into the hallway and ran straight into Jordan. Perfect. Good thing Leah had warned you.

“Oh, hi Y/N! You doing alright after all those tequila shots?” Jordan’s face was open and kind. You immediately relaxed. Just a guy, not a threat.

“Better than I thought I would, actually. What about you?”

“Well, I sent them back out the way they came as soon as I got home.” He grimaced and shrugged. “Just glad I’m still alive, to be honest.”

You had to laugh. “I’m glad, too. Leah would have been devastated.”

“I hope so.” He grinned back. The silence between you stretched a little bit too long.

“Anyways, I’m gonna see what she’s up to. See you later?”

“Yeah, sure!” You said, relieved that he didn’t make it awkward. You quickly slipped into your room and sank down on the bed, composing a text to Mark.

-Minor hiccup - I don’t have her number.

His reply came immediately.

-Shit. What now?

You let yourself fall back on the mattress and covered your face with your arm. Your phone vibrated again and you lifted it up, hoping for a brilliant idea.

-Hey, this is Abby. Are we still on for next week?

You almost dropped your phone on your face. For a minute, you just stared at the message. Then you rolled over onto your stomach and screamed into your pillow.

-Hi Abby. We absolutely are. Y/N.

You tried to suppress a fit of giggles as you texted your brother.

-Nvm, she just texted me.

-Omg what!! Play it cool, don’t answer yet. What did she say???

-Oops already answered. Still on for next week.

-Incredibly casual lol. Whatever, good for you!

-Shut up!

Another text by Abby came in and you actually started drumming your feet on the bed with excitement.

-Tuesday? I could cook for us

-Very impressive, I’ll bite. What time should I come over?

-Very clever. 6pm? Any allergies?

-Vegetarian, hope that’s okay. 6 is great, text me your address?

You watched the little text bubble pop up and vanish again for a good minute, getting more and more nervous for her answer.

- No problem. 2425 Constance.

There was nothing else to do but scream into your pillow again.

-

The next two days went excruciatingly slow. You spent the rest of your Sunday in bed, watching a terrible zombie movie and later ordering curry because you couldn’t be bothered with preparing any food. As it got late, you suddenly heard a knock on the wall. At first, you thought it was accidental, until the knocking started to continue in a steady rhythm. With a death glare that you hoped would reach through the concrete, you plugged your headphones into your laptop and continued watching your movie.

On Monday, you threw yourself into art history coursework and caught up on your studies, emailed your professor, and spent three hours on an essay about the depiction of blood in paintings of Judith beheading Holofernes. Lovely subject. Even though you got through a lot of your tasks for the day, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at your phone every 10 minutes to see if you had missed a message. Of course, nothing came up. Around 4 pm, your phone buzzed and you leapt for it only to find out it was Leah asking you to buy toilet paper later. At 6pm, you shut off your laptop and grabbed your backpack to go grocery shopping.

Standing in the liquor store you realized you hadn’t asked Abby about cocktails.

“Looking for something in particular?” the elderly lady behind the counter asked. It seemed to be her own shop and to have been hers for a while, judging by the elegant wooden shelves and the warm, nice feeling of the room instead of neon lights and rows of white metal.

“Uh, yeah, actually. I have a date tomorrow and I thought we could make cocktails, but I forgot to ask what she likes. So now I don’t know what to bring.” You gave her an apologetic half smile. She stood up from her seat behind the register, growing not even 2 inches standing compared to sitting and made her way over to you. Her eyes twinkled behind thick glasses that made her look a little bit like an owl.

“Well, dear. I don’t know if I would go straight into the hard liquor on a first date. On my last first date, we had a delicious red wine, a Merlot. Couldn’t that be something? Are you going to eat anything?”

“Oh yes, she said she’d cook for us, but I don’t know what exactly.”

The shop owner gently put a hand on your arm and guided you to a shelf of dark bottles.

“Well, Merlot goes well with any food, so I think it would be perfect. Cocktails come later, when you dress up and go out together or after a night of theater.” You felt a surge of warmth spread through your chest. Theater? Well, why not? For a second, you began to trail off, imagining Abby in a perfectly tailored suit, you at her arm just as dressed up, every head turning as you entered the room and ordered Gin Tonics at the bar during the break. The voice next to you pulled you back to the present.

“If you’re cooking at home, wine is the thing to bring, trust me.”

“I trust you,” you said with a smile as you took the bottle she handed you. The label was a creamy white, with beautiful golden letters. Hopefully this wouldn’t bankrupt you. “Thank you for your help.”

The shopkeeper sat back down in her chair with a sigh and typed into the cash register. 15.99$. That wasn’t so bad. You paid and gently put the bottle inside your backpack.

“You know, you should come by soon and let me know how it went. I think that Merlot will bring you good luck. My wife and I still have it every Sunday.” Your head snapped up and your eyes met that charming, smart twinkle again, flashing at you out of dark brown irises. For a moment, all of the things you wanted to say were stuck in your throat, then you just broke into a smile.

“That’s wonderful, ma’am. I hope I can have that, in the future.”

“Of course you will, dear.” She really sounded like she meant it. A small lump suddenly appeared in your throat.

“Thank you so much. I wish you all the best.”

“Go get her!”

You laughed and waved at her again as you exited the shop, taking the warmth and comfort of it with you and tucking it right beneath the bottom of your heart and the top of your stomach where you knew it would fuel you for a few days. You had already decided that you would come back and make it your mission to befriend that old lady. What a wonderful woman.

Only 23 hours to go. That night, it was almost impossible to fall asleep.

-

You got through the next day by once again banning any thought of the evening from your mind and diving head first into your assignments. You were going to lead a discussion on different planes of language or communications in women’s art and literature and reading up on the historical differences between male and female narratives, beginning with the ancient poet Sappho. It was an exciting topic, something you were extremely thankful for. Otherwise you might have been looking at your phone every 3 minutes instead of every 20. Of course, no message from Abby.

The bottle of wine was standing on your nightstand, reminding you of your plans with an exciting tingle in your stomach. At 4pm, you gave up on doing anything productive. You spent forever in the shower, stealing some of Leah’s expensive pink body scrub, shaving everywhere and regretting it immediately because you felt stupid for assuming anything, entertaining the but what if thoughts while you thoroughly lathered your entire body in Leah’s shampoo and shower gel and spending a good 10 minutes just standing under the hot water because you weren’t ready to leave that fantasy yet. When you stepped out of the shower, the bathroom was an actual steam bath and you could hardly see the door through the thick waves of wonderfully scented fog. You took your time stealing some more of Leah’s skincare products, having come to the conclusion that if she noticed anything and scolded you for it, you might as well try out the whole arsenal.

When you finally opened your closet door, feeling luxurious and clean and fresh, it was 5.10pm. What the hell were you going to wear? You and Mark had agreed on casual, but what the hell did that even mean? You decided to ask him.

-Help!!! Freaking out over my outfit, need a definition for casual

-Jeans and T-Shirt, just your standard outfit. Imagine meeting me for sushi.

-I’m bringing red wine. It seems wrong to bring wine in jeans and a t-shirt..

-What happened to cocktails?? Trust me, keep it simple. You don’t wanna turn up in a dress and she opens the door in sweatpants.

-I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in sweatpants. Ughh fuck I don’t have time for this. Jeans and t-shirt it is. Lesbian grandma recommended wine, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow x

-Go get her x

You quickly slipped into some black jeans that were just the right amount of tightly fitting around your ass and a white shirt with a tiny pomegranate embroidered on the front. Then you put on your jacket and quickly threw your wallet, phone and keys into a tote before grabbing the wine and putting it in as well. With a last look into the hallway mirror and a yelled goodbye to Leah, you rushed out of your apartment.

The evening air was not as cool as you had expected and the sun was just about to set. On your way to the train station, you typed out an on my way! message to Abby and quickly deleted it again. No sense in sending it now when you hadn’t spoken since Sunday and were about to see her. The train ride was annoying, the wagon stuffed with commuters and some guy trying to convince you the apocalypse was upon you all. Zombies, not the last judgement - something different at least.

During the walk from the station to Abby’s house, you were sure it wouldn’t take much more for you to actually start levitating. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your throat was so cramped up it was hard to breathe. When you pulled out your phone, your fingers were actually shaking. Jesus Christ, get a grip. 5.58 pm.

And there it was, 2425 Constance. Just a normal suburban white house, like any other in the street. It actually seemed a bit weird, Manny and Abby living here in the midst of what seemed to be a family neighborhood with real adults . Then again, they both weren’t in college, so you supposed they actually were real adults. When you walked up to the front door, you could hear faint music from inside - jazz? You wouldn’t have guessed she was the jazz type, but then again you knew almost nothing about her. Right. Ask questions, keep the conversation about her. Be cool.

You knocked.

Abby opened the door, a wave of warm air hitting you from inside. It smelled delightful. Her face was slightly flushed, her lips parted as she took in a deep breath. She had tied her hair back in a low bun, but a few strands had fallen out and framed her face. One was standing up in a funny angle.

“Hi, Abby,” you said, trying to keep your voice level and not stare at her body. Fuck, she had dressed up. And she looked hot.

“Hi!” A smile slowly grew wide on her face. When she realized that she was blocking the door, she quickly shook her head and stepped aside. “Come in! Can I take your jacket?”

Oh God, this was hopeless. You already knew you were hers. Thanking her, you took off your jacket and she hung it in a closet next to the entrance. When she turned around, you got a chance to admire her fully. She wore wide dress pants that perfectly accentuated all of her muscles, topped with a loose white shirt with wide sleeves, reminding you a little bit of a pirate. Her jewelry rounded off the pirate look and you had to bite back a grin. She raised her eyebrows at you.

“What?” Her cheeks were still slightly red, but you attributed it to standing in a hot kitchen for probably the last hour, judging by the variety of smells overlapping and mixing together, already making your mouth water.

“Uh, I brought wine,” you said and held out the bottle. Eloquent as always. Abby took it and whistled through her teeth as she inspected the label.

“That looks classic. The sauce I made has some wine in it as well, this is perfect. Thank you, what a great idea!”

You were overwhelmed with her generous praise and didn’t know where to look, so you settled on her hands. You had always sneaked looks at her hands, at the way she held a glass or drummed on a table or clasped them when she was intently listening to someone. They looked strong and rough from work, but there was also a delicacy in their movement and you were sure her touch could be as gentle as the brush of a hummingbird flying past. Realizing you were staring, you tore your gaze away.

“It smells delicious in here, I can’t wait to see what you cooked.” You followed her into the kitchen, where she placed the bottle on the counter and took a corkscrew from a drawer. A big red pot was standing on the gas stove over a tiny flame, the lid still hiding its contents. Your stomach suddenly growled loudly into the silence.

“Someone’s hungry.” Abby gave you a side glance and an amused smirk as she screwed the silver device into the cork. “Everything’s already set, we can get started right away.”

You covered your eyes with your hand for a second before laughing.

“Yeah, I kind of forgot to have lunch earlier and then I figured I’d just wait so I could really savour this.”

“Smart thinking. I made patates au vin , a vegetarian version of coq au vin which is chicken in wine. It’s basically potatoes and vegetables in a thick brown sauce, served with some good rustic bread.” You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back at the thought of getting to eat home cooked french cuisine made by Abby in a few minutes.

“Oh my God, say that again.” You could barely stop yourself from moaning. Abby laughed and opened the wine with a loud pop.

“Here, take this over to the dinner table. I’m right behind you.” You took the bottle and followed her nod into the dining room. The wooden table was beautifully set with big and small plates, glasses for water and wine, candles, two blue glass bottles of water and a bowl of salad topped with what looked like apples, pomegranate seeds and feta cheese. You carefully placed the bottle of wine next to the water bottles and stepped aside for Abby, who came out of the kitchen carrying the heavy pot and placed it on a cork coaster in the middle of the table.

“Wait, let me just…” she trailed off as she grabbed her phone from the sideboard and changed the music. A saxophone led a jazz band into the song before a beautiful female voice set in, soft as butter and filling the room like the smell of roses. The voice was familiar to you, but you couldn’t quite place it. As Abby sat down, the music came to a crescendo before breaking off, the voice setting in again with a soft

is it a crime?

“Who sings this?” you asked as Abby opened the water bottle and filled your glasses.

“Oh, it’s Sade. She was my dad’s favorite.”

And I want you to want me too, the woman sang, and your eyes met over the table. You swallowed. Was? Not the right time.

“Sade? Oh, she sings Smooth Operator, right? I know that one, but I never checked out more of her music.”

Abby smiled at you and opened the lid of the pot.

“Yeah. This is the Promise album, my favorite. She is a force.”

A wave of steam erupted from the pot and you bent forward to look inside. Thick, roasted wedges of yellow potatoes lay in a bed of orange and purple carrots, mushrooms and tomatoes in a thick brown sauce, a stalk of thyme on top and a bay leaf poking out from the sauce. You weren’t sure if you were drooling, but you didn’t care.

“Abby, oh my God! This is fantastic.”

A spark had lit in her eyes when she heard you say her name. She elegantly stood up again, grabbed a serving spoon, and held out her hand for your plate. You watched her hands again as she plated an array of vegetables for you and used the spoon to draw a little sauce heart on the rim of the plate. Your ribs felt two sizes too small around your chest. This woman was actually going to be the death of you.

“Thanks,” you quietly said and waited as Abby helped herself to a plate. She sat down and gestured toward the small basket with thick slices of grey bread with a dark brown crust.

“Help yourself. Bon appétit.”

After a few moments of eating in comfortable silence before you showered the blonde in an array of compliments, this time not able to refrain from moaning when you bit into a tender, sweet purple carrot, the conversation began to flow. Abby complimented the wine, you talked about your studies, Abby told a few work stories in which both she and Nora were involved, you told her about your close relationship with your brother and she bittersweetly reminisced about her upbringing as an only child with a single dad. It had just been the two of them, moving frequently because of his changing jobs in different hospitals. He had been a neurosurgeon, and a brilliant one at that, but always humble and ready to help wherever he could. Abby sat up straighter when she talked about him, her chest actually swelling with pride when she told you about one time they had rescued an injured horse that had run away and been hit by a car in front of them.

“I think I was 16 back then. It’s one of my favorite memories of him. It actually wasn’t long before…” Her eyebrows moved into a frown and she bit her lip, pushing a small piece of onion around her plate. Fuck, maybe it would have been easier to talk about you, after all.

“We don’t have to talk about it. You can tell me when you’re ready.”

She looked up and you expected to see tears, but her eyes were full of love and her face smoothed out into a gentle smile.

“No, it’s okay. I’m still working on it, and part of my therapy is telling people who don’t know yet. You know, I don’t really have a lot of friends.” She suddenly laughed, easing the tension at the bottom of your lungs. “That sounds stupid, of course I do. I have Manny and Nora and Leah and Jordan and Owen, I guess. But the thing is, they all knew me before. I haven’t really made friends ever since my dad.. passed away. The idea of needing to open up to someone about all this so I can develop a real connection and friendship with them is just a lot to bear.”

“The mortifying ordeal of being known,” you mumbled, more to yourself, crumpling up your napkin in one hand.

“Sorry?”

“Oh, it’s this quote from a New York Times article that has been floating around the internet for a while. ‘If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known’.” You looked up at her and inhaled deeply. “It’s something I’m also terrified of. Although it seems kind of stupid sometimes, because compared to you for example, I don’t really have a good reason.”

Abby looks at you like she’s just discovered something extremely interesting. She takes a sip of her wine before answering, her silver rings blinking at you in the candlelight.

“It’s not at all stupid. I’ve always been very careful with who I open up to, even before my dad died. It’s horrifying, laying yourself bare for a person, putting yourself on a silver plate and handing it to them and saying there, now do with it what you wish. Maybe they’ll look at it and say no, thanks. Maybe they’ll call everyone and say hey, look at this mad woman with her twisted insides, isn’t that funny? Maybe they’ll see it and think, I can do this, and then after a few years they suddenly realize they actually can’t and you’re way too much and so they leave for someone with a more simple, prettier silver plate. Maybe they’ll even take a few pieces with them as they go.”

She didn’t sound bitter as she said it, and she didn’t look terribly sad either, more as if she was making an observation about something she was mildly interested in. You didn’t know what to say except for show me your silver plate, please show me your all, and I will devour it, savor it, keep it with me forever. But you stayed silent, your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.

“I’m quite the handful, am I? Sorry, I shouldn’t have thrown all this” - she gestured toward herself - “at you during our first date.” Then her eyes widened as she realized what she had said. “Fuck, sorry, I just assumed… you probably don’t…”

Finally, movement came back into you. You jumped from your chair and were next to her in a few paces. She lifted a hand and you took it in yours.

“Of course this is a date,” you said gently and smiled at her. “Otherwise why would I have been this nervous for the past three days, thinking of nothing but you, constantly checking my phone to see if you texted me? And I brought red wine, come on.” That brought a smile to her face. She chuckled lightly.

“So I haven’t just ruined everything?” The hope in her eyes was mixed with real, honest fear.

“No, of course not. I’m glad you’re being open with me. You know, I planned not to reveal too much about myself tonight, fearing I would scare you away or say something stupid and make you suddenly lose interest.”

The current song ended and a soft, funky beat came on. There it was again, that twinkle in Abby’s eyes. Your hands were still clasped around hers and she made no move to pull back.

“Well, now I can’t wait to see what you have in store for me. Lay it on me. Over dessert, maybe?”

You raised your eyebrows.

“There’s dessert? You’re going to have to roll me out of here later.”

She laughed, warm and genuine, and the pride you had felt back in The Closet filled your chest again. You would do anything just to be the one to make her laugh every day for the rest of your life. She got up and you both started clearing the table together.

Never going to know

What fate is going to blow

Your way, just hope that it feels right

Could that Sade lady be any more on the nose? You risked a glance at Abby, who was smiling to herself. You followed her into the kitchen and she opened the fridge to produce a large glass dish, showing the several layers of biscuit and white cream, topped with dark cacao.

“Tiramisu? Seriously Abby, how much time did you spend in the kitchen today?”

She gave you a crooked grin before exiting the kitchen.

“Took the day off.”

You just sighed and went back into the dining room.

Such a fine time as this

“Here.” Abby handed you a small plate with a piece of her gourmet tiramisu. Your fingers brushed against each other and you both paused for just the blink of an eye.

What could equal the bliss

The thrill of the first kiss

You sat down and grabbed the small fork left next to your wine glass. On second thought, you took another sip of Merlot. It really was exquisite.

“Buon’ appetito,” you said and sliced off a perfect edge of tiramisu. The soft, coffee-drenched biscuit fell apart on your tongue, mixing with the heavy vanilla-flavored mascarpone. “Did you know where the name tiramisu comes from?”

Abby lifted her fork to her mouth and softly closed her lips around the piece of creamy dessert. You were entranced, watching her hand sink down to the table again, then her jaw moving and flexing as she chewed. She raised her eyebrows questioningly and you cleared your throat, taking another piece on your fork.

“ Tira mi su is Italian for ‘pull me down’. It’s the last thing you eat after dinner and the thing that makes you tired, pulls you right into the food coma. In restaurants, it rounds off the meal and guests will probably leave in the following hour because they feel they’re ready to go home.”

Never as good as the first time

Natural as the way we came to be

“Oh,” Abby said, her voice quiet. She looked up at you through dark lashes. “And are you going home after this?”

“No.” You said it without thinking, only knowing what was true in your heart. “I don’t want to.”

“I’m glad.” Taking a deep breath, Abby straightened up, then reached a hand across the table, her palm facing up. You stared at it for a fraction of a second before placing your hand in hers, feeling something fall into place inside you. The glances you exchanged said so much more than you could possibly dare to say out loud right now.

You used your free hand to stab the last piece of tiramisu. This time it was Abby who was watching you with hungry eyes as the fork vanished between your lips and emerged clean.

“This tiramisu could be the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my life,” you said after swallowing and Abby’s fingers twitched ever so slightly around your hand.

“Thank you. I’m really into French and Italian cuisine, as you may have noticed.”

You leaned back in your chair, careful not to pull back your hand.

“I couldn’t do it, honestly. Spending so much time in the kitchen. Especially not with a job like yours, on your feet all day. I’d probably survive off of pasta and takeout.”

Abby smiled and began slowly drawing circles on the back of your hand with her thumb. You were already hyper-aware of how your blood rushed through every vein of your body, a side-effect of the red wine, but now it came to a roar in your ears.

“I guess I need some kind of hobby besides lifting weights. It calms me down. And it’s not just about the end result, about getting to eat something, but also about picking the right ingredients, taking my time cutting them up, trying new recipes with new flavors, and learning more about food and culture, and honestly about myself. It’s like meditating.”

“That sounds…” you were at a loss for words, “unbelievable? I’ve never heard someone talk about cooking like that. And I’ve never felt that way about it, too. I guess I’d like to, though. It sounds nice.”

Abby brushed her thumb over your knuckles.

“Well, I could show you.” You tilted your head slightly. “I mean, we could cook together. Next time. If you want to?”

Sade’s voice, smooth as polished wood and dripping with honey cut into the moment.

How could I have doubted

Honey, it's with me that you belong

“Yeah, I’d love to. What do you have in mind?”

“Do you like lasagna? We could make a vegetable lasagna and substitute the meat for soy. I could show you how to make a béchamel.”

You laughed and squeezed her hand.

“I love lasagna, although I have no idea what a beshmel is.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” Abby’s face was glowing with happiness.

As the last two songs of the album played, you helped Abby clean up the table. You got into an argument about doing the dishes - Abby said she’d do it later but you insisted you would do them now or at least help because so far you had not lifted a finger.

“Come on, Abby, please let me help?” You tried your best doe eyes at her. She grinned and playfully slapped your upper arm.

“Okay. But I’ll put on different music.”

She vanished to the dining room while you began filling the sink with water. A high note filled the room before a man spoke.

You broke my heart / 'Cause I couldn't dance

You didn't even want me around

And now I'm back / To let you know

I can really shake 'em down

Abby stepped into your field of vision. The music set in, a delightful 60’s rock and roll melody, and Abby began dancing toward you with tiny steps and shaking shoulders. She was lip synching to the coarse voice of the singer and reaching out her hands for you. Snapping out of your frozen position, you shook your head, grabbed her hands, and were immediately twirled through the kitchen. A squeak escaped you as Abby pulled you back toward her and with another pirouette, you almost slammed into her chest. You both laughed out loud, continuing to dance through the kitchen with big, overexaggerated moves, flailing your arms and shuffling your feet across the tile.

I can do the twist

Now, tell me baby

Do you like it like this?

You quickly began singing along to the simple lyrics and both of you were giggling at each other’s dance moves. The next song was Stand By Me and you both settled down, beginning to clean the pots and dishes. You did the washing while Abby dried off the pieces you gave her and put them back into the right cupboards. Both of you were swaying and humming along to the music.

During the second chorus, both of you began belting along, filling the kitchen with the wonderfully familiar sound of slightly drunk women singing together. As the song ended, you both comically froze and waited for the next song to set in. When it was La Bamba by Ritchie Valens, you both continued singing along and showing off some probably terrible salsa moves. You were done in no time and Abby took your hand, pulling you into the dining room and sliding across the wooden floors with you. Your stomach hurt from laughing and you couldn’t stop smiling.

Next came the bittersweet Be My Baby by the Ronettes, a song you remembered from your childhood, vague memories of your parents slow dancing together after another terrible fight. You swallowed down the hint of bitterness creeping up from your stomach. Instead, you looked up at Abby, almost a full head taller than you, and dared yourself to step forward. You placed your right hand in Abby’s and your left on her tricep, coming unbearably and exhilaratingly close. Abby put her hand on your back, right below your shoulder blade, warming you through the fabric of your shirt. Your faces were incredibly close, her breath warm on your nose, and you could have counted every single freckle on her beautiful face. There was a slim ring of gold around her pupil, complimenting the green of her iris. She was breathtaking.

You couldn’t take this any longer. Should you kiss her? Everything inside you wanted to, but you couldn’t bring yourself to close the last inch of distance. It felt like wanting to do a handstand but pulling back at the last second every time because of a deep fear of failing and hurting yourself. It was terribly frustrating.

Instead, you leaned your head against the round muscle of Abby’s shoulder, turning your face toward her chest and pressing your temple to her collarbone. You could smell the herbs she had used to cook earlier in the fabric of her shirt, but her skin smelled like pine and something else, earthy and dark, like tree bark or wool. Abby rested her chin against your forehead and her low hum of contentment vibrated against your cheek.

A light waltz melody began, Unchained Melody, a song you knew from some commercial and had listened to for a few weeks straight after.

I need your love

God speed your love to me

You smiled to yourself and could sense Abby was doing the same. You kept slowly turning, dancing through the candle-lit room and swaying side to side. The band set in louder and you lifted your head again. Abby’s eyes were fixed to yours, but you couldn’t stop yours from wandering lower, finding those perfectly pink lips, hanging open ever so slightly. Your hand wandered upward, along her shoulder, and to the back of her neck. As the last verse of the song began, you stood on your tiptoes and brushed your lips against her. Abby inhaled sharply, her fingers spreading on your back and pressing against your skin. You gently pressed your lips to hers again and this time, she kissed you back. You dug your fingertips into the back of her neck, desperately wanting to come closer, to pull her down to you, hell, you would climb her like a tree if you had to.

Feeling courageous, you stuck your tongue out and ran the tip upward over her lips. Abby instantly reacted, opening her mouth for you and greeting your tongue with hers. She tasted like wine and cacao, and faintly like thyme. Releasing your hand, she wrapped her arms around your waist. You reached up and buried your hand in her hair. She gasped into your mouth. You tucked that sound away for later, swearing to yourself you would make her do it again as often as you could.

A few seconds of silence between songs were disrupted by your wonderfully frivolous wet kissing sounds and a small whine that escaped you when Abby’s hand wandered lower to cup your ass. The first guitar chords of Nights In White Satin vibrated through the air and Abby grabbed you tightly before lifting you off the ground and wrapping your legs around her hips. She carried you over to the dining table and set you down.

The dramatic crescendo in the song you loved so much began.

And I love you

Yes I love you

Oh, how I love you

The singer’s voice filled every corner of the room, his declaration hovering above you, the high voices of the background singers ringing in your ears and Abby’s hands everywhere, her body leaning over you, her hips pressed between your legs. You flexed your legs to pull her in closer, almost falling apart when Abby let out a low moan and rocked her hips forward against you. Then she suddenly slowed down and broke the kiss.

“Wait, let’s talk for a second.”

You kept your legs clamped around her, but relaxed back a little, brushing back a strand of hair from her forehead and giving her an encouraging nod to go ahead.

“I haven’t… I’m not that experienced with - with women. And generally. And I don’t want to rush things and do something wrong and lose you. I don’t really know how this works and I want to do it right.”

Her hands on your waist tightened slightly. You gave her a shy smile.

“Me neither. I’m scared, too.” You surprised yourself with your openness. “How about we take this slow, then? Talk about everything openly? And just go one step at a time?”

Abby nodded and pulled you closer again.

Holding Back The Years began playing.

“One kiss at a time.” She gave you a gentle peck on the lips.

“Oh, really? I would have never picked you as the sappy type,” you laughed against her lips.

“You wouldn’t?” She acted shocked. “Let me remind you of how I took the day off to cook a gourmet french dish for you.”

“True.” You shrugged and pulled her in for another kiss. “It’s probably the muscles. With those guns, you can do anything and still be taken seriously.”

Abby snorted and you realized that had been the wine talking. For a second, you were mortified, then she scooped you up again, holding your body with one arm as she ran her free hand through your hair.

“Oh, those? You know, they’re specifically for carrying you around all day. Anything for my - princess.” You had very well noticed the little pause there, but you decided not to say anything yet. Instead, you lifted your chin and eyebrows, imitating what you thought a royal would look like.

“Well, what does that make you? You’re obviously not a prince. My lady knight?”

Abby nodded solemnly.

“Sworn to protect and defend you. And to carry you wherever.”

“Well, do you have a sofa you could carry me to?” You tightened your hold on her shoulders and leaned in closer again.

“Of course, my lady.”

Abby carried you through a doorway at the back of the dining room into a cozy living room, equipped with a large sofa and a gigantic flatscreen tv, two vintage armchairs, a wooden bookshelf with at least 100 books, and a desk facing the window, medical books spread across the surface. The blonde sat down on the sofa and you knelt left and right of her hips, straddling her as you gave her another soft kiss.

“You know,” you began, “I’ve been crushing on you for months now. I thought you had absolutely no interest in me. I didn’t even know you liked women.”

Abby’s eyes widened at your confession.

“Shit, I had no idea. You weren’t exactly forward, you know. The first time we met, you already had this pull on me. But you were so shy and I didn’t want to jump you or annoy you, so I tried to keep my distance and wait if you would come around.”

“You have Leah to thank for that. Me coming around. I kind of forgot to come out to her until karaoke night and she told me you were dating women as well. She knows I’ve been a hopeless case when it comes to you, but she wanted me to figure this out on my own.”

Abby thought about this for a second.

“Yeah, Leah probably only told you because she knew I liked you, too. I haven’t been that open about dating women in the past, just because talking about dating in general was weird with Owen and Mel around and I also just don’t like everyone knowing my personal business.”

“I get that.” You nodded. “As I said, I hadn’t even been out to Leah. Mostly because I haven’t dated anyone in forever and the last time was a disaster not worth talking about.” You winced at the memory.

“You wanna tell me anyway?”

You thought about it for a second, then you climbed off Abby’s lap and laid down on the sofa, resting your head on her thigh. Her fingers immediately began brushing through your hair and massaging your scalp.

“Well, I met this girl during a freshman party at a sorority house the weekend before my first semester in college,” you began. You had felt weirdly out of place, but were determined to speak to at least one person. A few hours and an almost-lethal amount of tequila later, the girl you had talked to all night had dragged you into one of the bedrooms. You both had no previous experience, were extremely drunk and it was already 5am. You had fun making out and were both eager to try more, but it had been more out of curiosity than desire for each other and so the experience had not ended in the expected bliss of lesbian sex. Rather, she had come pretty quickly and afterward she'd begun crying and told you she had a boyfriend, and you had gotten dressed and fled the house. After that, dating in college was not really something you thought about much.

Abby listened to your story with interest and sympathy, laughing at a few parts and stroking your hair as you told her about the end of that fateful night. She felt deeply sorry for your experience of strangeness and betrayal, immediately promising to you that she would always tell you what was going on inside her head and what she wanted.

“Like you just did,” you smiled at her. “That was brave. It’s what I should have done that night.”

“I mean, I had a few weird moments, too, before I learned to speak my mind.” Abby’s gaze unfocused and she frowned as she clearly recalled some not very pleasant memories.

“Wanna tell me, too?” you asked, keeping your voice light. She nodded, looking down at you again.

“I mean, there's Owen, obviously. That didn’t work out well and now he is with Mel, leaving me wondering if he was interested in her while we were still together. After we broke up, Nora and I went on a little bender.” Your heart jumped into your throat. Did Abby and Nora...? A wave of jealousy rose from the bottom of your stomach, but you forced yourself to keep your calm, smiling at Abby as she continued.

“We spent every weekend at a different bar, and one of them was actually at The Closet. Nora was making out with a woman in actual overalls” - she snorted - “and I just hung out at the bar, drinking Long Islands and not brave enough to make eye contact with anyone. And then the bartender started talking to me.”

Suddenly realization dawned on you. You sat up and stared at Abby.

“Wait, Ellie? The short-haired one?”

Abby grimaced.

“Yeah. We talked for a while and I came back the next week with Leah and Jordan. They didn’t even notice I was spending a lot of time at the bar. Ellie and I met for coffee a few days later and I mentioned my dad and she got really quiet and strange. Turns out, she’s related to the guy that murdered my dad, so...”

You were pretty sure your heart stopped for a moment, all the air in your chest building up pressure as you tried to figure out how to breathe out. Abby noticed and gently guided you to lay back down, continuing to weave her fingers into your hair.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’ll tell you the whole story another time. So yeah, Ellie and I. It was horrible, but we still stayed and talked for a while. She couldn’t tell me a lot about what happened, but she had no idea that I even existed and she was about to have a panic attack over it all. I helped her calm down and then she felt terrible for reacting so badly when it should be me panicking and I just told her that there’s nothing any of us can do now and we should probably leave it at that.” She sighed. “I hadn’t been to The Closet until a few days ago. I only came because I knew you’d be there.”

“Fuck, that’s terrible,” you mumbled. “I don’t think I could have gone back there. I’m still glad you did, though.”

“Me too,” Abby said, her voice gentle and honest. She leaned down to kiss you, deeply and passionately.

You stayed on the sofa for the next few hours, talking about school crushes and gay awakenings, about women constantly hitting on Abby and her being confused for a long time. She told you more about her relationship with Mel and you started to actually resent that woman. Who did she think she was? You told Abby about living with Leah and about your current research projects and she listened intently, asking a lot of questions about the art you were analyzing. You began diving into queer art and Sappho and your theory on the different languages of different social groups. Abby actually gave you some great new ideas and some good questions you couldn’t yet answer and you were actually beginning to look forward to writing tomorrow.

As the clock moved past midnight, it became clear you would have to leave at some point soon. Abby had to get up at 7 in the morning for a 10-hour shift, and you had stifled one too many yawns. You were cuddled up on the couch, kisses interchanging with long, deep conversations and more kisses.

“I can accompany you to the station,” Abby suggested as you looked up the departure times on your phone.

“You don’t have to. That’s sweet of you, but I’ll find the way.” You kissed her for her generosity, but she pulled back.

“Honestly. I don’t want you walking alone. I’ll go with you.” A sheepish smile appeared on her face and she did a tiny bow. “My lady.”

You rolled your eyes and got up, making your way to the entrance hall. Abby gently helped you into your coat and put on a black bomber jacket, a strange but hot combination with her fancy pants. She opened the door for you and you stepped out into the cold night together.

You held hands on the way to the station, stopping at every corner to make out, laughing together, and making plans for your lasagna night. You would come over on Thursday, promising to yourself you would finish all your coursework until then. Manny would come back on Friday, so you’d have the house to yourself again.

You arrived at the station way too soon, but your train was announced to arrive in two minutes. Heavy-hearted, you flung your arms around the tall blonde and she wrapped hers around your waist, lifting you up for another deep kiss.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” she whispered against your lips.

“I’ll even dress up next time,” you mumbled and she grinned at you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything but jeans and a t-shirt. I’m excited.” Well, now you had to go shopping. Leah would be delighted to go with you.

You pressed a last kiss to Abby’s lips before unwrapping yourself from her arms as the train rolled into the station. As you stepped away, she caught your hand and pulled you back for another one, cheekily running her tongue over your bottom lip. You sighed and kissed her hand, wrapped firmly around yours, before stepping back and boarding the train. You waved at her through the window as you departed and watched her stand on the platform until she was out of sight.

Letting yourself fall into one of the seats, you pulled out your phone and texted your brother.

-We kissed!!!! Call me when you can

Then you texted Leah about shopping tomorrow, just able to send the text before your phone vibrated with a new message.

-You looked beautiful tonight. I’m the luckiest person in the world.

You tried to keep your squeal as quiet as possible. A woman a few seats ahead of you briefly looked up from her phone.

-Can’t believe I have a personal knight who will carry me wherever I want to go

The reply came in seconds.

-Anywhere and anything you want. Text me when you’re home!

-Can I text you before I’m home? I miss you already :(

You had to wait a few minutes before your phone vibrated again. This time, Abby was calling.

“Sorry, I was cleaning up and getting ready for bed.” She sounded a bit breathless.

“No worries,” you said. “What are you wearing for bed?”

Abby let out a surprised laugh.

“Really, now?”

“I’m serious. I want to imagine being with you.”

“Well, I’m wearing a gigantic black t-shirt with a ton of holes and boxers.”

You closed your eyes, envisioning Abby’s thighs straining against the hem of her shorts and the soft cotton of her shirt that you could bury your face in. She would smell like nature and like home somewhere far away.

“I wish I was there.” You noticed you were sounding desperate. Fucking hell, were you about to turn into a 13-year-old? You could hear the smile in Abby’s voice when she spoke.

“I wish you were here with me, too.” She paused for a moment. Then, “Do you want to sleep over on Thursday?”

“Uhm -” you had to think for a second, remembering you only had dinner plans for Friday with your mom. Before you could answer, Abby cut in again

“Fuck, am I rushing you? I didn’t mean - I just thought it would be nice, falling asleep together. But I totally get if that’s -”

“Abby! Of course I want to stay over!” You clenched your free hand into a fist, punching your thigh a few times in order to divert the explosion of energy inside your chest.

“Oh, thank god,” Abby’s shaky laugh was heart-wrenching. “I thought I messed up already.”

You stood up to exit at your station.

“No, not at all. I’d love to fall asleep with you.”

The way to your apartment was over faster than you wanted it to be.

“I’m home now. I think I should hang up, Leah is probably sleeping.”

“Yeah, don’t wake the monster.” Abby chuckled.

“Good night, Abby. Tonight was incredible.”

“Good night, Y/N. You’re incredible. Sleep tight.”

--

Author's note: Thank you so much for your comments and kudos! If you'd like to support me, you can buy me a coffee here

[kyotakumrau]

2021.04.06 a talk event at Meguro Rock-May-Kan film screening at Namba Hatch with Kyo and Shinya  - PART 1   Report by とあ on twitter (topics are not reported in order things happened, I mostly followed the order they posted, 1st and 2nd session bits are mixed together)   my comments go in (*…) 

Shinya entered the stage in black hoodie, both hands in his pockets. He also had hands in the pockets when he left the stage. Came with a drink. 

Kyo came on stage with his arms crossed. He drank some water soon after sitting down, I thought he started to play with the flyer but he made an airplane from it.   Q “To Die. Please tell us the secret of your youth.”  Kyo and Shinya face each other and laugh.  Kyo: Is it okay to imagine what Die is doing? I said that I quit McDonalds, right? Die also said he hasn’t had McD in years.  Fujieda: He also said he doesn’t eat ramen.  Kyo: and he doesn’t eat spicy food.  Kyo: Now he’s just eating, like tofu? Tofu or soybeans.  Shinya: he researched and knows a lot. Even when going on a diet in the past he found a good plan.  During the rapid question time they also answered another one for Die “I bought Die’s model guitar. Please tell me how can I get better” when reading Kyo answered “tooth guitar”.  I think it was when reading about this guitar? Kyo started laughing then Fujieda started laughing and for a bit they both faced each other laughing. 

  “Coffee”  Kyo: I drink it black. Even at home. Using beans from Starbucks. I drink 1~3 cups a day.  Fujieda: Kaldi’s coffee is also great. They have many types.  Kyo: If you say that they have many different types you have to try them to compare.  You don’t say this even though you didn’t drink them, right?  Fujieda: I tried quite a lot. There’s different one for each season. Now they sell sakura blend etc.  Kyo: Ah, then it’s fine. If you drank it.  Shinya: some years back I bought Nespresso coffee maker but I’ve only used it for 2 weeks. It’s still in my house.  Kyo (suddenly looking at Shinya): gimme! (くれ!)  Shinya: o, okay.  Kyo (turning to Fujieda looking happy): he said okay!  Kyo: Then I will give you a coupon to get that right side curl fixed. it caught my eye that looking from here that just the right side of your hair has this weird curl.  Shinya: No, it’s not weird...  Kyo: But I will give you a voucher to get that fixed.   

 “What’s your routine before the show?”  Both of them don’t have one  Kyo: Does anyone have?  Fujieda: Toshiya is doing muscle training.  Kyo: Ah... and doesn’t Die move around a lot?  Shinya: He does. Until the start he’s very restless.  Kyo: Right? Even when we all gather one is always going back and forth.    “Your favourite takoyaki”  Shinya: I don’t care. Even though I’m from Osaka I don’t really eat takoyaki. It is said that every household in Kansai will have a takoyaki machine but we didn’t. In the 20 years I lived there I only had like 5 octopus balls.  Kyo: That time when you were wearing that long earring? You only had 5? So what type?  Shinya: the one that is crispy outside and soft inside   

“A difficult song”  Shinya: Rinkaku. Because I need to keep kicking. It’s faster than Zan. The drum is nice but it totally kills my leg.  Kyo: DIFFERENT SENSE as I said before. I imagined a dialogue as it’s a heavy song when I made it, but when I didn’t get any response, I ended up having to sing all of it by myself so it’s really tiring. I tried control my breathing when swimming but I can’t.  Kyo: So in the end it’s like swimming the whole thing without breathing.  I was told by Kaoru to try pointing the mic [at fans], but all I get is ‘eh right now?’ (gestures pointing with his right arm) I get ‘eh here?’ The people in front of me try to respond, but the people on the sides (again points with his right arm) go ’eh? Eh? Here? (agitated) so I gave up. I don’t mind if it’s the wrong pitch, just put your feelings into it. 

 Kyo: I started playing Monster Hunter. On Switch.  Takabayashi: I’m also playing.  Kyo: Then let’s play together! (big grin)  Takabayashi: Okay.  Shinya: I bought it on the day DS got released, but I couldn’t understand the objective of the game after playing for a day so I didn’t feel like playing anymore.  Kyo: So you just started playing from zero by yourself? No one helped you saying what to do?  Shinya: Yup.  Kyo: If you told me I’d have helped you.  Shinya: So in the end what happens? What is the goal?  Kyo: there’s none.  Shinya: What?  Kyo: You just continue getting your level up.  Shinya: And for how long do you continue to play?  Kyo: There are people who continue playing until the next game comes out.  Shinya: Woah... 

 "What weapons you're using in Monster Hunter" Kyo: I'm using a bow. It might seem it's because it's huge, but I can attack from a distance and avoid being found. Make a shot from a distance, if you're found out you can run away. Direct confrontation is scary.

 “During the Osaka period what studio did you use?”  Kyo: Was it in Umeda?  Shinya: Yup.  Fujieda: What was the name?  Kyo: I don’t remember. Do you?  Shinya: Yes. It was M4　www.m4-studio.com  Kyo: That’s some memory.  Shinya: I booked it. I confirmed the date with 4 of you and called them. We made Karma and Aoi Tsuki there. 

 “About Oboro teaser”  Kyo: Could you see me? I only watched it on my phone so couldn’t tell what was what. 

 “Rock-May-KanGIG"  Shinya: there were many problems... no one around me [to help]. When my ear monitor fell out I had to fix it myself. And I made this rookie mistake of not pressing record on camera...  Kyo: We don’t remember things like that.  Kyo: Do you remember what you ate a month ago? You don’t right? It’s the same. You might remember that the main dish was shrimp but you won’t remember sides.  “About SOGAI in May”  Kyo: something that will happen in a month...Do you think about what you will be eating in a month?  Fujieda: But I think many fans are looking forward to it.  Kyo: I guess, but that’s because they’re going to enjoy the food. From the side of people who will be cooking you only start preparing about a week before, no?  Fujieda: So you will start feeling motivated a week before...  Kyo: Nope.  Fujieda: Shinya, do you think this analogy works?  Shinya: After hearing it I think so.   

“What are some food combinations that you find just wrong?” (*from other twitter reports the question had example like pineapple in sweet sour pork etc)  Shinya: as long as there’s no foods I dislike anything is okay.  Kyo: I don’t have any food like that, but but I hate when people mix different sports brands. Wearing adidas with Nike shoes and so on. When I see someone like that I want to tell them ‘could you not?’ 

 “What expensive item have you bought recently?” 

 Shinya: I’ve already answered this earlier. A camera. The camera itself was 40k and lens was 20k yen.  Kyo: What do you use the camera for?  Shinya: For recording and so on.  Kyo: What kind of [recording]?  Shinya: For youtube or Haiiro.  Kyo: Isn’t iPhone good enough for that?  Kyo: When I’m taking a photo I just pass my iPhone and ask someone.  Fujieda: I was given a camera for taking photos, but after about 15 minutes I was told to use iPhone in the end.  Kyo: Do you know what was different?  Fujieda: I didn’t.  Kyo: (*going back to the main question) an expensive item... Nike and Garcons sneakers I guess. They were about 20k yen.　(*Pegasus?)  I’m drinking coffee while looking at the sneakers. 

“Do you prefer indoor or outdoor festivals?”  Shinya: If it’s daytime then indoor. It would be too bright outdoor in daytime.  Kyo: I hate insects so indoor. Weren’t there so many insects when you had plants? Fujieda: Speaking of insects, don't they get into your mouth when you ride a bike? Kyo: You ride a bike with an open mouth? Silly kid. Fujieda: Instead of having open mouth, it's like there's suddenly an insect in your mouth, when it crashes into you. Kyo: Riding a bike with an open mouth is silly. Why, are you singing? Fujieda: Sometimes I do, actually. Kyo: If you're singing while riding that's okay, if you just have your mouth open while riding that's silly.  

 "About SOGAI in May"  Shinya: We're working on the setlist, it will be great.  Kyo: That's why I don't want you to ask me about a concert in a month. Don't ask me questions about concerts next year. I won't answer.   

 "What's a good place in Hirakata?"  Shinya: Hira pa (Hirakata Park) and TSUTAYA, right? TSUTAYA is where I was born.  Fujiefa: Eh? Really? I didn't know.  Kyo: if in Tokyo you say Hirapa no one will understand   Kyo: Do you know? (looks at Shinya) when you just come in and there's a place with dogs Shinya: Like real dogs?  Kyo: Yeah. There are about 20 dogs, but all are so tired. Lifeless as if they were abused. Of course they weren't abused, but it's a place where you can spend some time with dogs but they are so tired, so lifeless and tired that it's almost a shame they are kept there.  (*I think he's talking about Doubutsu Hug Hug Town) 

  "What hotel facilities do you find exciting?"  Shinya: ...for example?  Fujieda: ehm...  Kyo: This is not something exciting, but. You know in a shower? When you don't know if you're supposed to move the handle up or down? Maybe this way? And then when you move it the water suddenly comes out from above! (Shinya nods)  Fujieda: That's criminal! Was it hot?  Kyo: First water came out, but when I turned the handle the water suddenly poured from above, I got totally soaked. How do you use that?  Shinya: there are some places where water comes out in 3 places instead of 2.  Fujieda: Criminal!  Fujieda: Anything exciting?  Shinya: Like?  Fujieda: Like a big tv.  Shinya: I don't watch TV.  Dujieda: That's true, you don't. How about a very good pillow?  Shinya: I don't care.  Kyo: And the shower [head]! Just from one hole the water goes in a strange direction, there's nothing stuck there, just water, but just this one spot. What's that about?  (Shinya continued to nod while smiling)  

 "To Shinya. What time did you wake up today?"  Shinya: Around 1. At night.  Fujieda: What time did you go to bed?  Shinya: I think about 10pm.  Fujieda: You almost didn't sleep at all.  Kyo: Aren't you an old man now!  (*🤣🤣🤣🤣) 

 "What toothpaste and toothbrush are you using?"  Kyo: Any toothpaste is okay, but I prefer small toothbruses. Because I have very complex teeth. Like a maze. You get lost there. That's why I choose a tothbrush with a small head, has good reach.  Shinya: I'm using a toothpaste from overseas with an M, any brush is okay for me. But I use one with water coming out of it.  Fujieda: Is it electric?  Shinya: Yes.  Fujieda: Is it painful?  Shinya: Well sometimes it gets a bit bloody.  Kyo: You're really into it (laughing) to keep using it even if you're bleeding. 

  Kyo is watching The world unknown to Matsuko every week (depends on the episode but it's interesting), when finishing the 2nd sessiin event Shinya said 'go straight home and from 8:57 watch The world unknown to Matsuko'. It already started and it seems [dir] appeared there.  

 "Where do you want to tour besides Tokyo-Nagoya-Osaka?"  Shinya: Somewhere we still haven't been to... where was it?  Takabayashi: ehm... Shimane, Wakayama, Saga.  Shinya: There.  Kyo: Kyoto. Kyoto is good. Kyoto is the best. Even now I'd love to [have an event] in Kyoto instead. Kyoto is the best or, I want to become Kyoto.  

 "What animals do you like in the zoo?"  Kyo: ehm... sheep I guess. I want to look at them or hold them.  Shinya: Animals you don't see in everyday life like giraffes, elephants or lions. 

"What do you like in an amusement park?"  Kyo: I guess the haunted house? Yeah, haunted house. It's okay when people try to scare me. It's not scary. I'm laughing all the time.  Fujieda: So you can enjoy FujiQ no problem?  Kyo: I haven't been, but I think it's fine? I would be fine bringing a sheep with me I guess? Going in while stroking the fluffy sheep.  Shinya: Ferris Wheel.  Fujieda: How about the thrilling ones? Shinya: I don't like them. Fujieda: So Ferris Wheels for Shinya, understood.

 "About shooting Oboro PV"   Shinya: It was tough. Kyo: You say that? Say that to ME?? Shinya: Well, you were shooting naked. The green stuff got all over my clothes and cleaning that took ages. Kyo: Ah, I guess. But you could've gotten it dry cleaned, no? Shinya: It was a fabric that cannot be dry cleaned. I couldn't remove it in the end so I gave it to Fujieda. Kyo: You did? You got it? Fujieda: Yeah, I passed it to the person who designed the costume. Kyo: I see... Shinya: And the floor was very cold. Kyo: You say that?!?!?! Fujieda: Were you okay, Kyo? Kyo: Yeah... I'm a pro in the end. Fujieda: Oh (claps) Kyo: Are you mocking me? Looking down on me? Fujieda: No! Not at all! I clapped because I think that's great! Kyo: No, you're defnitely looking down on me. It's the same as the 'whats your salary like?' 'this much' 'oh'.

 tbc

[ahkaahshi]

sleeping over at their s/o’s house for the first time [scenarios]

pairings: sakusa kiyoomi; hirugami sachirou; kuroo tetsurou x fem reader

genre: fluff and humor, as per usual

warning(s): n/a

notes: kinda popped off on hirugami’s part. couldn't help myself. not sorry bout it either. can’t wait til we get to see more of his cute lil face in the anime.

he is so painfully awkward I love him

will just stand in the entryway with his duffle slung over his shoulder, staring straight at you until you tell him when he can put his stuff

this literally isn’t his first time over at your house but he acts like it???

poor baby’s obviously nervous about ~ spending the night ~

immediately washes his hands

brings his own pillow

asks if you’ve sanitized all your surfaces recently/if anyone in your household has been sick lately

does he wanna play video games? not until he’s wiped down all the controllers.

does he wanna watch real housewives? no, but you put it on anyway because you know he secretly loves the drama

does he want a snack? possibly? but refuses to eat on your bed because lying on crumbs is nasty

all he does is get under the covers and hang out

only moves to brush his teeth and, of course, wash his hands

will do a face mask with you but only after thoroughly reading the contents of the bottle/package

wears his hoodie and sweats to bed

is asleep before 10pm

2/10. total party pooper who only gets points because he’s hot and dislikes the same housewives as you do

Moments after releasing a rather loud guffaw at a funny scene from the television show you have playing on your laptop, you hear a small groan echo from beside you. Turning your head to the source of the noise brings your attention to your boyfriend, whose tall form rested on the bed beside you, ensconced in your blankets. His eyelids flutter open and his eyes the color of charcoal fasten on you before narrowing in a small glare of annoyance from underneath the sea of black waves atop his head.

Maybe you would’ve felt even the slightest bit intimidated if his face wasn’t close to being absorbed by the yellow fabric of his hoodie--and if he hadn’t flattened his hair against his forehead by closing the drawstrings to secure his hood around his head.

“Kiyo!” you whine, crossing your arms in front of you chest, “Were you really asleep just now?”

His dark eyebrows furrow as he answers matter-of-factly, “Yes. You know I go to bed at ten o’clock, (f/n). It’s ten thirty.”

You roll your (e/c) eyes at him and protest, “But this is a sleepover! Would it kill you to stay awake a little longer so you can spend some precious time with your beloved girlfriend?”

“Lack of sleep can lead to sickness. Sickness can lead to death. So, yes, staying awake longer to spend precious time with my beloved girlfriend could kill me.”

“I hate you.”

He lets out a long sigh and reaches over towards your laptop to close it, putting an end to your Real Housewives marathon. Once he’s moved it off of your bed, one of his arms snakes around your waist and pulls your body down towards the mattress. His midnight gaze doesn’t falter as he says, “If you get sick, I won’t be able to spend time with you like this, so sleep with me.”

Your heart skips a beat at his tenderly spoken words, and you crawl underneath the covers so you can place your head on his muscular chest and curl up beside him. The feeling of his warmth surrounding you is enough to make you melt into his arms and forgive him for completely ditching you in favor of sleep.

“(F/n).”

“Yes, baby?”

“If you kick me off the bed, this will be our last sleepover.”

sweet boy who is very excited to spend the night at his girlfriend’s house!!

brings snacks and movies

he enjoys doing any activity with you, whether it’s watching movies, playing video/board games, or just cuddling on the couch and talking

not hard to please at all!!!

watches rom coms with you. secretly a hopeless romantic

you’ll probably spend at least ten minutes of your night trying to catch pieces of popcorn in your mouths

and another ten doing the same thing with m&ms

poor boy is too tall to fit under your blankets, so you have to give him an extra one for his legs and feet

bedtime attire consists of boxers with corgis on them, a sweater, and crew socks to keep his tootsies warm 🥺

brings you a pair of matching, corgi-patterned sleeping shorts bc he wants to twin with you

your parents are gone, meaning you can do chaotic activities...

... like baking at 2am!!

he loves to bake (and you can’t convince me otherwise). pls bake with him

wants to stay up all night with you but ends up passing out around 3am after y'all eat all the cookies you made together

11/10, best sleepover ever

Few things were more romantic than spending an evening with your boyfriend on your hands and knees, against the cold, tile floor of the kitchen, cleaning up the aftermath of the mess you’d created.

Lifting your gaze from the white goop coating the flooring, you glance over at Hirugami, who looks completely unfazed and unbothered despite his face still being decorated with dollops of whipped cream. Beholding this sight once more sends you into another fit of laughter that makes it hard for you to keep yourself steady.

“What?” he asks, a small smile creeping onto his lips at seeing you so amused.

In between breaths, you manage to ask, “Why’ve you still got whipped cream on your face?”

With a roll of his chestnut brown eyes, he uses his fingers to swipe some of it off so he can help himself to another serving. “Obviously,” he scoffs sassily, “I’m saving it for later.” His smart comment makes you snort rather unattractively, which, in turn, causes chuckles to pour out from his mouth. “I’m assuming that’s what you’re doing too, right?”

Your (e/c) eyes widen, since you thought you’d done a good job of clearing up the results of your whipped cream battle from your face. A glance at your reflection in the glass of the oven where the cookies were slowly baking soon proved you wrong. Instead of being irritated by this discovery, however, you let out another, wheezing laugh and fell onto your side.

To any outsider, the situation would’ve looked rather strange--an incredibly tall volleyball player dressed only in corgi-patterned boxers, a sweater, and socks, face covered in whipped cream as he fell about laughing with his girlfriend who wore a similar ensemble and was sporting the same whipped cream situation. However, in your defense, it was two o’clock am, and you were high on sugar.

"Come over here and I’ll get the rest off your face, then,” Hirugami suggests, extending his long arms towards you that beckon you closer to him. After you scoot closer to him, he pulls you into his embrace and starts peppering your skin reddened from laughing so heartily with kisses. With each press of his lips against your face, your heart flutters in your chest.

He only pulls away from you when the oven beeps, alerting you that the cookies you’ve been awaiting are finally ready. But he does so with hesitation, seeing as he’d been caught up in savoring the sweet taste of your lips instead.

“You ready to eat some cookies?” he asks with a grin.

Your reply makes him snicker: “Always.”

is fully prepared to stay up the entire night (spoiler alert: doesn't)

made an entire party playlist for y'all to listen to throughout the evening

expect lots of dancing, vibing, singing, and buzzfeed unsolved episodes

brings dance dance revolution over to your house and then proceeds to challenge you to a dance off

was not prepared for what you brought to the table

tries twerking to distract you but still fails

will go on a midnight mcdonalds run with you

is the kinda person to share deep, late night thoughts with

only with him can your conversations go from discussing the questions of human existence to debating which form of potatoes is the most elite

will 100% do face masks with you to keep his complexion lookin godly

INSISTS on watching scary movies

expectation: “don’t worry, babe; I got you!!”

reality: is visibly shaking underneath the covers, questioning all the shadows in your house

wears only a pair of shorts to bed even tho it’s cold af (he runs hot, if ya know what I mean heheh)

8/10. would’ve scored the last 2 points if he hadn’t stolen the blankets and made you wonder if your house was haunted

"(F/n).”

The familiar and gentle voice of your boyfriend rouses you from your semi-conscious state, and you hear the sheets of your bed rustle.

“I’m so tired, Tetsu... what is it?” you wonder groggily, not even bothering to open your eyes to see what’s upset him.

“I think your house is haunted,” is his response. Though he speaks calmly and coherently, his hazel eyes are wide with fear and darting around the dark bedroom.

“Oh, stop. I knew it was a bad idea to watch those supernatural Buzzfeed Unsolved episodes before bed.”

The bed sinks behind you, and you feel the warmth of the blanket he’d stolen from you earlier around your body as he pulls you towards him so your back is flush against his chest. While you appreciate his closeness to you, you can tell he’s far from relaxed. The grip his fingers have around one of your shoulders is tight, as if he’s using it as a stress ball.

You murmur his name with indignation and pry his cold hand off your shoulder, but press a gentle kiss against the back of it. “Baby, go to sleep.”

He noticeably stiffens when a quiet whoosh sounds from another part of your house. “What the heck was that?” he asks from where his face is buried in the back of your neck, too afraid to look around and risk finding something he might not want to see.

“The dishwasher.”

“Y-Yeah,” he stammers, “the dishwasher... of course...” 

With a gentle groan, you lift your head so you can turn and press a gentle kiss against his forehead in an attempt to soothe him. As soon as you plop back down onto your pillow, Kuroo takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, desperate to get a wink of sleep.

The sound of a creak brings both of you to attention moments later, however, and your heart begins to race.

“That was the house settling... right?” you whisper.

He pulls the blanket over both of your heads, fully cloaking your bodies beneath it and says, “Yeah. Yeah. Let’s go with that.”

At this point, you realize it’s going to be a long night for reasons other than those you’d expected.

[whaleislandruneys]

Initial thoughts Story of Seasons: Pioneers of Olive Town

Love the limited tutorials. Yes friendly mr mayor drops by once a day for the first week but those interactions take maybe a minute and you don’t have to actually do anything

LOVE the character customization? Gender who? Genuinely thought they weren’t even going to make you choose until I got to the scene after character creation. We’re this close, y’all

Thank game devs for letting me change my char design since I’m wishy washy about what I want them to look like

Confused at the first “upgrades” I did to the town because the renovations were exactly the same as they were before. Maybe I wasn’t paying attention?

The requests are fun, but I wish I had a way to see what they were before I walked all of the way to town, see what the item is, run all of the way back to my farm to get it, and then go back to the town hall.

I think the maker system is.... interesting. I certainly don’t mind using makers at all, but as many people have pointed out, the overlap on types of items is a bit much. It’s got me in inventory hell since I can just drop a stack of an item into a maker. I would be fine with the current situation if I could put more than just enough to make one item at a time

My farm is getting a bit bigger so I have noticed the performance jitters

I like being able to find animals in the woods

One wish I had is that the whole games camera worked like how it does in photo mode. The pivot feature is nice but half of the time in town I can’t see who I am talking to because of a building or a tree

Didn’t think I’d miss character portraits but I really do especially because of the above point

So far, I think the characters in town are pretty neat! (Except for the days surrounding the festivals lol). I’ve encountered a few of the cutscenes and they’re some of the best I’ve seen to date. They’re genuinely funny and wholesome? I haven’t gotten past the first heart cut scenes for most of the towns people but those were pretty great.

Forever confused at how the people in this town stay in business if they make all of their customers provide the raw ingredients for their products but that’s too meta right now

I think the sprites as a concept is Neat but I do not understand their purpose other than to rapidly send me into inventory hell?

I love the mining and logging. Love the BIG WHOOSH for smashing and chopping

Third mine is scary 😦

I’m concerned that this game might be short? I’ve been playing for a few hours over the last two days and it says my pioneering is at 72% completed????? Maybe I’m misinterpreting that

So far I’m really like the customization of the farm. It could use some quality of life upgrades in the future but I think it’s a great direction for the series as a whole

The music has been pretty good so far. Do each of the characters have their own theme? It seems like it time but I haven’t encountered too many scenes

There’s a lot of neat mechanics that I’ve only seen but not super interacted yet with like cooking and turning in recipes to that one guy who is Forever Alone at all the festivals

Reina... every time you need to appraise your objects... also pls let me do more than one at a time like Tree of Tranquility. Also why do they need to be appraised if they’re just normal stuff in grimey bags?

The orchicalcum tools cost HOW MUCH!?

There’s one skill I haven’t unlocked yet I’m so confused what is it? It’s beekeeping lol

Just had the cutscene with Lars and Jacopo on a souvenir run. God... the cutscenes in these game are good. I’m going to cry from laughing so hard

Yo angela misaki manuela sydney and clemens should be eligible.........

I miss the incomprehensibly weird shit from early harvest moon games like mukumuku and the harvest sprites from 64 who were like just there but didn’t really do anything? Drove me bonkers as a child trying to figure out their purpose. Add purposeless stuff and less us ponder

Revived lady spirit...,,, hot

SoS devs: Sunglasses? Check. Backpack? Check. Must be a tourist

Waking up late if you go to bed one minute past 10pm is lame. The game forces you to get 8 hours of sleep unlike the rest of us

Sprinklers are SUCH a nice addition to the series. I know other farm games have had them but I would expect SOS to stay on the tried and true path but they’ve definitely tried experimenting with new things (lol the bucket and the mushroom logs??)

Speaking on those two: fun concepts but also .... hmm I’ll get back to this one it’s a half cooked thought

I love the wild crops mechanic. They’re something surprising and satisfying about it

Lars and Damon are boyfriends who hang out in the woods together

I have more thoughts but uh this is what I’ve got for now. What about y’all?

[simeonstans]

OBEY ME BROTHERS AS CELEBRITIES

Sorry I haven't been active. Between schoolwork and just a lack of motivation and creativity, I really dont know what else I should've written. I'm sorry for abandoning this blog for a while haha.

LUCIFER

He's an actor. But later turned into directing and producing movies.

Has an entire room dedicated to his awards, one wall lined up with all his Oscars, Grammys, and Emmys.

Involved in plenty of rumors and scandals, usually where the media thinks he's dating an actor or found a non celebrity partner. But really, he asked them out to talk business.

Whenever he's acting, his character can go from the charming boy to the rich spoiled brat to even the badass detective. He's not a big fan of starring in hero or action movies with lots of effects. Nor directing those types of movies.

Directed a horror movie once and that quickly got taken out of movies for how scary they were. Psychological horror to the extreme.

His stans are usually rich and probably like Quentin Tarantino or Clint Eastwood. Lucifer has beefed with Woody Allen and his stans do as well. Truly iconic.

Philanthropist.

MAMMON

He's a model in canon but I feel he could also be a photographer.

He knows his aesthetics and has plenty of portfolios.

He's probably gonna act a lot smarter now that he's famous and knows plenty of people would want to scam him.

He does give out to charity sometimes but usually he models for campaigns or sells his pictures at auctions and donates away the money or a percentage of it.

Involved in some scandals but they're quickly debunked by his stans or his management. Nothing too bad, just a dating rumor that spirled out of control.

He does have a good relationship with his fans and likes to do podcasts or go on lives and interact and answer questions, even invites them on his lives to talk with them.

He's filthy rich and he dresses filthy rich. His style is very earthy and casual, but he does have that expensive Hermes™ watch and some Prada™ boots.

LEVIATHAN

He's a YouTuber. He also streams every Friday and Saturday from 10pm-6am.

He liked to cosplay but now that he gets invited to gaming cons and events, he probably doesn't have much time to make a good cosplay up to his standards so he'd probably wearing Tanjiro's earrings one day and then his Naruto jacket the next.

Whenever he goes to concerts, it's a thing that fans secretly take pictures of him if they're near him and there's plenty of content of him drooling over Zaramela.

There's YouTube compliations of him going shy whenever someone is nice to him or someone attractive goes near him.

Because he games a lot, he probably would sweat a lot if he becomes concentrated. So whenever he'd brush his hair back or put it in a ponytail, his stans go feral.

Don't mess with his stans, they're the type to call and email anyone so you have your life ruined. But I promise they're usually soft stans.

He dresses like the gamer boy of your dreams tbh.

SATAN

He's a painter.

The next Picasso. Van Gogh. Monet. He has talent.

Many would say he could be an author cause he reads but I headcanon he could have synesthesia. So whenever he'd read a book and go over a specific scene, it'd inspire him to draw or paint something.

If he's stressed, he plays classical music and paints whatever the music says.

He was probably a college student when this happened and he had a lot of paintings he didn't know what to do with, so he just sold them or gave him away to charities under a fake name.

Like some Hannah Montana shit, he lived a double life for a couple months and then he got outed by some journalist that was supposed to keep up with him.

He gets invited to plenty of events and has painted for celebrities and politicians. Despite that, he's probably the least popular of his brother's but his stans are very dedicated to him and surprisingly there's rarely any fights within.

He has money but the most expensive his he owns is a watch and his car. More dad or nerdy boyfriend type look.

ASMODEUS

Triple Threat. Model, actor, singer.

He frequently goes on tour and drops albums. His music ranges so one album can help you explore your sexuality when his next album mostly focuses on who he truly is and so on.

Like Lucifer, he has plenty of awards. Probably has starred in one of his productions, too.

Has collaborated with NikkieTutorials, Rihanna and her Fenty collection, Beyonce, the biggest stars you could think of. Whether music or beauty.

Has his own fashion line as well as his own perfume collection and beauty products. A good percentage does go to charities and organizations like homeless college students or pro-lgbt groups.

Has YouTube compliations of men having gay panics over him.

Has been involved in many scandals and relationships, but many wind up false. Surprisingly. He is honest, so he does confirm if there was any chemistry between him and someone else.

His stans are more open and accepting, they don't really attack you or ruin your life but they can damage your self esteem for good.

They've also trended "#AsmoIsOverParty" just to promote a new project from him.

BEELZEBUB

He's an athlete.

There's plenty of videos of him with his shirt off and he may seem scary to many people, he's our big puppy.

"Beelzebub being cute for 4 minutes and 48 seconds" compliations rival "Levi being shy as a serotonin boost" compliations

Has the most fans. He's mentioned wanting a family and being family oriented before which probably caused his fan base to expand.

If you don't understand the sport, older stans would explain it for you. He also made a YouTube channel where he posts videos explaining how the game works and the positions. There's 5 videos, each video almost an hour long. He hasn't updated his channel since then.

Has also starred in Lucifers movies and usually does his own stunts.

He only wears expensive shoes as long as they last long or are comfortable for him. He also sometimes buys expensive athletic wear but majority of the time he doesn't check how expensive it is as long as he's comfortable.

Every week, he posts a video of himself working out or making a healthy and inexpensive meal to promote a healthier lifestyle.

BELPHAGOR

Music producer.

Despite being known to nap a lot or to be in his room a lot, it's usually because he spends a lot of time making beats and working on lyrics.

He's collaborated with plenty of artists but usually collaborates with Asmo.

Belphie also has his own music company which Asmo is under. Of course there's other producers in so he works alongside them and other artists and he usually makes his own music or adds back vocals to some songs.

If you find the back vocals within it, he's usually growling or moaning. His voice is deep but it's very soothing.

His stans usually send him letters or ask Asmo how he's doing or if he's eaten yet. He is very respected and his stans are FERAL. No mercy, absolutely ruthless.

Once had his mixtape "leaked" by Asmo and it was on the charts for a good while and broke a record or two. He doesn't like talking about it much but he does appreciate it.

He doesn't dress up much but whenever he does, it's like he's a different persona.

[my-one-true-l]

Hey luv!!🖤 Can I order a microfic for wammy's boys by taking their child trick-or-treating on Halloween with his parents? Hope you have a good time this Halloween! 👻

Hello My Darling Anon! I put a rush order on this one to get it ready in time for Halloween! I hope you have a good one as well!!!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Come on Daddy! Let’s go!” The tiny child dressed all in black with the oversized cat ears and velvet tail dragging on the ground behind them tugged on L’s sleeve, trying with all their might to yank him towards the door. “If we wait much longer, there won’t be any candy left for me!”

L pressed his thumb to his lip, a smile growing beneath it as he looked at them lovingly. “I’m sure there will be no shortage of treats. It isn’t even dark yet.”

“Granddaaaad!” They whined at Watari, their huge greyish-blue eyes pleading up at him. “You’ll take me, won’t you?”

“Patience, child.” Watari’s grin widened under his moustache. “Your mother and father will take you in just a moment.”

“What about you Granddad? Aren’t you coming with us?”

“Someone has to stay here and hand out candy to the children that come here. We wouldn’t want them to be disappointed by trick-or-treating at an empty house.” He handed them a pumpkin-shaped pail before straightening the pointy cat ears.

“Just don’t give it all away, ok?”

“Little One, you will have plenty of candy of your own when we return home. There’s no need to be greedy.” L gently took their hand in his.

“They remind me of someone else when he was their age.” Watari patted L on the shoulder kindly.

“So you’re blaming genetics?” L smirked at him.

“I’m sorry I’m late!” Little One’s mother hurried into the foyer, also donning cat ears on top of her head. She squatted to be eye-level with her kitten and whispered, “Everything is ready for Daddy’s birthday party.”

“Even the cake?” Little One’s excitement rang out a little too loudly.

“Mhmm. Even the cake.” She stood up and took their hand, pumpkin pail dangling between them. She gave L a little wink, who had no doubt heard what they were planning. “Ready to go?”

“YES! I’ve been ready since this morning!” Little One pulled them both towards the door.

“Sounds like someone else I know.” She smiled playfully at L.

L sighed as they stepped into the cold night, together as a family. “Apparently I’ve made quite the reputation for myself.”

“That’s ok Daddy.” Little One squeezed his hand a little tighter. “I’ll share my treats with you.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“That’s it. Let’s have them.” Mello frowned down at the tiny biker that stood before him, leather pants and a tattoo of a dragon drawn in marker on his arm made them look even more like thier father.

“I wasn’t going to use them. I just wanted them, you know. In case.”

“Mells, are you shaking our kid down for their chocolate?”

“No, but I might have to do that later.” Mello’s scowl softened when he spoke to her. “Look what our little darling decided to bring trick-or-treating?” In Mello’s hand was a half-used can of shaving cream.

“Did you really think it’s ok to vandalize someone’s house?” Their mother asked sternly.

“Only if they don’t hand over the good candy.”

“That is not ok. Your mother and I taught you better than that.” Mello turned to his Love. “There’re some eggs in their pillow case, too.”

“I thought I bought more than what is in the refrigerator!” She held her hand out to them. “Give them over.”

“You don’t want that. They broke when they set down their treat bag.”

“And it ruined all my goodies.” They yelled angrily at their parents.

She sighed and looked to her husband. “We really raised a mini-Mello. What are we going to do?”

“I think you should-“

“Your mother wasn’t talking to you.”

She closed her eyes for a second to clear her head. “This is what we’re going to do. We’re going to go get you a clean pillowcase and we’re going to try this again. We’ll go door-to-door as a family. You’re too young to be going trick-or-treating alone anyway.”

“And tomorrow starts your grounding. Two weeks. No T.V, nno video games.” Mello doled out the punishment. “And I get half your chocolate.”

“HALF?!” They growled at their father before his eyes grew wide. Mello didn’t need to say anything. His kid knew he meant business. “That seems fair.”

“Now that’s settled. Let’s go. And I don’t want to catch you pulling something like this ever again, you got that?”

“I sure do. Sorry Dad.”

“You know that’s a bunch of crap, right? They’re just like you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Mello lowered his voice to keep the words between him and his wife, a smile making his scar even more beautiful. “Is it bad I’m a little proud of them?”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“It’s alright sweetheart. Go knock on the door.”

The little vampire hugged their mother’s leg, peeking around the woman with wide eyes as they stared at the stranger’s door.

“There is nothing to be afraid of. Pumpkins are not frightening and the spiders and bats are merely decorations, made of plastic in some factory.” Near reassured his child the only way he knew how.

“But I’m scared.”

“That’s ok. Halloween can be scary, but if you’re really brave and go to the door, you can get candy.” She stroked her child’s hair, still clinging to her leg.

“What are you dressed up as?” Near asked his child, twisting his hair around his finger.

“I’m a vampire.” Their voice shook the response.

“Are you an actual vampire or is it pretend?”

“It’s pretend.”

“As are these decorations.” Near held his hand out to his child. “Now let’s not be frightened of something that is pretend. I will go with you if it will give you courage.”

The little vampire with the flaxen hair nodded at their father, taking his hand and stalking toward the door, cape pulled up over their nose. Near’s Love couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. They looked like Dracula from all the old movies.

Together, Near and his child walked up the porch steps, between the cotton cobwebs and glowing pumpkins, the baby vampire building courage with every step before ringing the doorbell.

The door opened and a kindly older woman smiled at them.

“Trick-or-treat.” The tiny vampire could barely speak the words.

“Oh, aren’t you adorable! Such a cute little vampire.” She plopped a handful of chocolates and lolllies into their pail before turning to Near. “And what are you supposed to be? A ghost?”

Near frowned at the woman. “I’m a detective. Thank you for the treats.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*

“Alright, on our Trick-or-Treat bingo, we have skeletons, pumpkins, spider webs and bats all checked off.” Matt held the card in his hand, crossing out the words in purple marker as he read them aloud. “We need those eyes that are peeking in the bushes still…”

“And something inflatable. Oh and we need a house that is playing scary music.” The small Yoshi excitedly chimed up at their father. “Oh, this house has purple lights! Cross it off dad while I go to the door!”

“Haha, alright. Go get them. Make sure to say thank you!” Matt called after them before turning to his Love. “You did a damn good job on that costume.”

“Anything for my two favorite gamers.” She smiled proudly at him, never telling him it took her the last 6 months to perfect it.

“Mom! Dad! I got M&Ms and a Reese’s peanut butter cup! Your turn mom, cross it off.” Their face beamed from where Yoshi’s mouth should be. “Did I get Bingo yet?”

“You are one Milky Way away from getting candy Bingo.”

“And you need Orange Lights and you will have it on the decorations one.”

“Alright! I’m on it!” They ran to the next house, green and white tail waddling behind them as they hopped up the steps and knocked on the door.

“So what are we going to do when they win?”

“10pm pizza and scary movies until they fall asleep on the couch?” Matt grinned, proud of the prize at the end of the game he created. “I think they will love that.”

She smiled softly at him. “I think all three of us will love that.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Hey Dad! Check me out!”

Beyond’s child bound towards him, rubber butcher’s knife sticking out of their head, red corn syrup running down their face with eyes ringed in black, which Beyond was not fond of. It reminded him too much of someone he had tried hard to forget.

“Wouldn’t you rather go as the murderer than the victim?” Beyond hated even the slightest hint of his offspring being weak, even if it was only a Halloween costume.

“I’m not a victim. I’m a scary undead dude.” The excitement fell from their face. “You’re no fun sometimes. You don’t know how much work it was to look like someone you’re not.”

B knew all too well how much effort that required.

“On second thought, I think you look quite scary.” Beyond’s compliment brought the smile back to their face. “I think you’re going to get a lot of candy this year.”

“I think so, too!” The sweet voice of the child’s mother announced her entrance into the room, standing at B’s side & whispering in his ear, “I hope you don’t mind I let him use that old stage makeup you have hidden in your drawer.”

Beyond fought back a frown. “Of course not. Why would I have a use for that? I don’t even remember why I have that.”

“Mom? Dad? Can we get going please? I don’t want all the blood to dry up before I can collect my candy.”

“Alright, let’s go.” Beyond mustered a smile, letting a bit of the corn syrup drip on his finger, sucking the sweetness from his nails. “It’s terrible once the blood dries on.”

[normalg-irl]

When People Ask Me What I’m Doing After Graduation This Is What I’ll Say | May 3, 2019

So, I don’t have a job lined up for after graduation. I’m also not volunteering with the JVC or Americorps like some of my friends who enjoy helping people. I don’t have an internship, and I’m not traveling anywhere. I actually have no idea what I want to do? Like as a career, but also … in life? So I’ve decided to construct an honest answer to provide to anyone who asks me what I’m doing after graduation. If you, too, do not have a “plan” for post-grad, you are welcome to join me in the glorious city of Hartford, Connecticut, where these 5 post-grad steps will be carried out.

Step 1: Watch Game of Thrones.

Never having seen Game of Thrones makes me feel almost as shitty as never having seen any of the Harry Potter movies (never mind never having read the books). This is the first time I’m admitting that. I usually just play along like,

“I would be in Gryffindor, no doubt. My favorite spell is Leviosa. JK Rowling is honestly a legend.”

I’m embarrassed to confess how uncultured I am. But, with GoT, it’s way too complicated. You can’t just skim the surface like,

“Winter is coming. Jon Snow is my favorite character. Yeah, I’m not bothered by the incest either.”

I’m going to take the first three weeks immediately after graduation to binge GoT and get caught up to speed for the sake of the culture. And also for my own mental health because I’ve been feeling excluded and anxious every time Khaleesi is brought up around me. She sounds like a legend, almost more so than JK Rowling.

Step 2: Exercise lightly.

After the three weeks of binging Game of Thrones I’ll probably try and get my body looking right. No one tells you that going to Punta Cana for spring break turns you into a drinking-machine-party-fiend. The all-inclusive trip destroys all tendencies of eating vegetables and run-walking on the treadmill. For the latter portion of senior year all I’ve known, and all I’ve wanted to know, are Miami Vices (pina coladas and strawberry daiquiris mixed for the ignorant lames), permanent sunburns and foggy conversations with the same people over and over again.

So, with that, health and fitness has plummeted drastically on the list of priorities. Before entering the “real world” I’ll need to burn off all the fried chicken I swallowed whole while floating around in the Punta Cana resort pool. Step 2 is necessary in order to bury that part of the identity and embrace a classier manifestation of self.

Step 3: My high school friends and I become so bored that we go get frozen yogurt and have a really awkward encounter with someone random from our past.

Step 3 can be weaseled in at any point in the post-grad plan. Preferably I will complete step 3 multiple times, almost on a weekly basis. I envision a lot of days playing out like this:

11:00AM: Wake up.

11:04AM: Enter an “Instagram k hole” (This is a term I just learned. It’s when you get so deep into Instagram it feels kind of like you did too much Ketamine, and you’re seriously f*cked up).

12:10PM: Mom is getting home, so I quickly stage a job application workshop in the kitchen.

12:30PM: Mom really wants me to try harder at applying for jobs, I tell her I will.

12:45PM - 4:20PM: *Insert step 1 or step 2 here, depending on what level you’ve reached of the plan.* So this block of time can be filled with either culture binging, or getting the body right.

4:20PM: By this time culture = binged, or body = right. Both great outcomes. Send a text in the group chat, everyone’s down to hang, obv. No one has a job.

7:30PM: Not sure how those three hours were spent. Potentially was sucked into another k hole, but this time mind was completely erased.

8:25PM: Group unites at the friend’s house who has the most chill parents.

8:30PM - 9:50PM: Vaping, light gossip, and brief but intense Instagram k holes are accompanied by a random TV show playing in the background like Catfish or anything on TLC.

10:00PM: One friend suggests getting frozen yogurt. It’s the best idea she’s had in years.

10:15PM: Arrive at Sweet Frog dizzy off the vape. The smell inside is extremely nauseating. Someone might pass out in Sweet Frog.

10:16PM: Everyone fills up their cups with a mixture of flavors. One friend just gets a ton of those little balls with juice inside of them. She’s a psychopath.

10:19PM: I enter a frozen yogurt k hole. Halfway through the fro-yo I realize I do not like fro-yo. But then all of a sudden my cup is empty.

10:23PM: The awkward encounter the entire group has been anticipating finally happens. The middle school basketball coach enters Sweet Frog with his new girlfriend. He has no idea how old we are. He can’t even make a guess. He is intoxicated in Sweet Frog. He kisses us on the cheeks. His girlfriend is really pretty.

10:41PM: I leave Sweet Frog feeling awkward and sick. But it was something I had to do. And it’s something you have to do. It’s only right.

Step 4:  Shock my parents’ friends when I say, “I have no idea what I want to do” in the Big Y parking lot.

After the Sweet Frog interactions, awkward encounters will be nothing but a thang. I expect them to spice up the depressing post-grad days, and will probably become a favored activity.

So when my Mom asks me to go to Big Y to get a watermelon (she likes to give me random tasks), I’ll be kind of excited to go.

When I see Mrs. Miller in the parking lot, I won’t pretend not to see her. She asks me what I’m up to, what my “plan” is, and when I tell her about binging GoT and going to Sweet Frog and working out every few days, her face grows concerned and I am hoping she talks about my excellent plan with the other moms. I just want to be talked about, honestly.

I help Mrs. Miller put her groceries in her minivan so she thinks I’m still a good person even if I have no ambition.

“Good luck, sweetie.”

She nods empathetically from her minivan window as I stand alone in my pajamas in the Big Y parking lot carrying a watermelon.

Step 5: Read a life-changing book at the town pool.

I haven’t read a book in years. Reflecting on my life, I may never have actually finished a full novel. What if I’m in a job interview and the interviewer asks me what my favorite book is? I need to have something truthful and profound to say. The Fault in Our Stars isn’t going to cut it. I could maybe swing saying that the Game of Thrones series is my favorite, because I’m pretty sure they were books before a TV show? But that feels like it’d be super transparent at this point.

I can’t go into an intellectual discussion with some alternative, experimental book all confident like, “Have you read The Girl with the Chastity Belt’s Lullaby? It’s my favorite.”

No, you need something absolutely classic like To Kill a Mockingbird or Don Quixote or Fifty Shades of Grey. I’ll probably pick up War and Peace and call it a day. Been meaning to read that one. And then off to the pool I go.

I see myself spending a super relaxing time by the pool with my book. There are no annoying kids splashing around the day I decide to go and conquer my book. It’ll be closed off for academics on their sabbaticals just like me who want to peacefully read and feed their brains.

As I flip around War and Peace, I see a ton of pages, and a ton of words I don’t know. I suck at reading. I don’t know how to read. I can read the words, but the whole time my mind is thinking about potential boyfriends and potential parties and potential conversations. All which might never happen.

War and Peace spirals me into an anxiety k hole, which I think is actually just an anxiety attack, and I storm out of the pool without even buying french fries from the snack bar.

That’s as far as I’m going to make it into step 5.  

And there we have it my friends. Graduating without a job isn’t that scary if you embrace my perfect five-step post-graduation plan. Because, believe me, once you do it all - once you’ve watched eight seasons of Game of Thrones, hit Sweet Frog a couple hundred times, toned a few muscles, run into lots of moms, and “read” War and Peace … you will be ready to hightail it back to NYC - and maybe even land a job.

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

Published by The Rival at Fordham University on May 3, 2019

[witchcraft-in-wonderland]

Love and Mischief (Pt.1)

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

Being rich had perks, that was a given. Virgil could get whatever he wanted, his identity wasnt questioned because of his prominence, and he hardly had to do anything for himself.

Of course, a sixteen year old boy should hardly have that much power, so Virgil's father Janus had him under constant surveillance, much to Virgil's chagrine.

But he still managed to get himself into trouble by nightfall. Flirting with boys in shady nightclubs, giving away his cash on stupid bets, it was all fun and games to him. There were only two people on the estate that he couldnt seem to get past, his personal servants Jekyll and Hyde. The two were twins, and very good lie detectors.

"I've been in bed all night! Look! The pillows are messed up and theres a dent right there!" Virgil said, pointing to a spot at the center of the bed that he'd dug in to pretend he hadnt spent the whole night down town.

Jekyll raised an eyebrow, a smile crossing over his thin face.

"Very well Mr. Bellamy, then I suppose you'll be perfectly fine to join your father for dinner in a few minutes," Hyde said, also smiling. The two of them left the room, Virgil letting out an exhausted groan. He changed into a sleeveless purple top, or would be sleeveless were it not for his binder providing the illusion of straps, black skinny jeans, and matching black boots. He yawned and stretched and ruffled his hair in the mirror before opening the door.

"Good morning Virgil," said Janus as Virgil settled into his seat.

"Morning dad," Virgil replied quickly before diving into the plate of pancakes in front of him.

"Virgil, moderation," Janus warned, without looking up from his newspaper. Virgil made a noise somewhere between a groan and a snarl.

"I've got my lawyer coming over this week to discuss your inheritance once you turn eighteen," Janus said, setting down the newspaper.

"That's not for another two years! And either way it's not like I can leave the estate," Virgil said, rolling his eyes slightly.

"Its still important to have in line," Janus replied. They continued on with their conversations, Virgil making sure to leave out any incriminating details from after 10pm.

Soon enough it was that time of the night again, Virgil dressed himself in silk and lace, using a chain of tied together scarves to lower himself to the ground, rushing off to the nearest taxi.

Virgil felt much more at home in the night club than he ever did at the mansion. Whereas the mansion was quiet and boring, the club was loud and chaotic, and rather than restrict him, the boys here were just as wild as he was.

"Well what do we have here?" Virgil felt someones arms around his neck, and a voice whispering in his ear.

"A little mouse partying with the cats hm?" Another boy sat in front of Virgil, he was dressed in black and green, and he had a mustache on his face, and striking red eyes.

"I think hes been here before, doesnt seem very nervous," said the voice of the boy leaning his head on Virgil's shoulder. Virgil darted his eyes to the side to get a better look at him, this boy had green eyes, though his eyelids were nearly closed over them, and there was a lazy smirk on his face.

"For cats, you dont scare me very much," Virgil said, smiling. Both boys sat on either side of him on the couch, each leaning back against him.

"Oh really?" Said the one with green eyes, a slight growl in his voice that sent shivers down Virgil's spine.

"I've met worse," Virgil shrugged.

"But have you ever met alley cats?" Said the boy with the mustache.

"No I cant say I have," Virgil said, taking another sip from his drink.

"Well, we happen to be the top of the chain out here," said the green-eyed boy, resting his head in Virgil's lap. Virgil looked down at him, the same smirk still present on his face.

"Look more bottom of the chain to me," the crimson-haired boy made an offended noise, his brother letting out a laugh.

"Virgil Bellamy," Virgil said, setting his glass down and leaning on the arm rest next to the red-eyed boy.

"Remus and Roman Kingsley," both boys said in unison. Roman sat back up again, clearly annoyed with his lack of attention.

"Well, alley cats, I'm afraid your little mouse has to scatter," Virgil said, placing a kiss on each of their lips before disappearing into the fray of the party, and out the door, back into the stifling reality of his life.

Virgil hadnt expected to see the twins again, yet they seemed to seek him out every time he showed up at the club.

He didnt mind this, in fact he practically lived for the attention of the twins, for the games they'd play when no one was there to tell them what sixteen year old boys should be spending time on.

What he hadn't expected was for them to follow him home. He'd been standing at the balcony, overlooking the mountains in the distance, when he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He looked to the side, and there they were.

"Roman! Remus!" Virgil hopped off of the balcony, landing safely in Roman's arms.

"Surprised to see us little mouse?" Remus said, grinning.

"I must say this wasnt an expected visit," Virgil said with a grin.

"Took us ages to find you, theres so many big houses in this neighborhood," Roman said, setting Virgil back on the ground.

"So are you gonna show us around Virgie or are we just gonna stand here?" Remus said. This caused Virgil to stiffen slightly.

"I'm uh- not sure that's a good idea," he said quietly, fidgeting with his hands.

"Awe cmon Virgie! You're always so fun at the club!" Remus said, taking one of Virgil's hands in his and spinning him slightly.

"I mean they cant be that stuffy if they let you dress this hot," Roman said, gesturing to Virgil's crop top and, had he not been wearing black leggings under them, very short jeans.

"Oh they arent necessarily stuffy- just- over protective and completely unaware I got clubbing when I should be asleep," Virgil said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Virgil!" Virgil froze as he heard Hyde's voice from upstairs, and he would rather have melted than face what happened next.

"And who are these two?" Jekyll's voice sounded from the balcony.

"Just leaving!" Roman and Remus said in unison, fleeing the scene as fast as possible.

Virgil felt as if he'd been punched in the chest as he was helped back up to the balcony, and even worse as he saw the smirks on Jekyll and Hyde's faces.

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

Tag list:

@meowthefluffy

@frog-candy-bee

@boobmaster69

@thecolorfulolive

@nerosdayinhell

@melodiread

@youtuberswithalex

@spooky-scary-virgil

@thefivecalls

[sweet-xoxo-thatcares]

Maybe I was too fuvked up in the head to see when it's just me. When somebody makes me feel bad, all I see is the pattern of negativity and I gets no chance to let it air out.

But when I do and that person reaches out to show that care, that's what makes it better.

Vs these idiots who don't own up to shit cause they don't see Nothing wrong and don't care about me enough to know that I'm hurt by them.

Momma really came to me to show me she cares, cause she could see my ass was on brain fry and not getting enough sleep. I'm literally up 4 am to like 10pm everyday and today I didn't give a fuck about that abstinence challenge....I really needed me some good loving, and it shonuff made me feel better.

All this staying up and waking up early had me in a bad mood for days, cause everything is up in the air right now, it's day by day.

It felt like my whole entire life in just a few days and it's me trying to make sure everybody else is good with my octopus arms. My back hurts, but I really wanna do something special for my lil sisters since their birthdays is coming up and grandma's is in August. Like I said I wanna plan something for her, but we don't even know if she's gonna be here for it.

I sent a birthday request shoutout to the news since they were offering to do it for the locals. Hopefully she gets in, I know its not wise to plan for that, but I wanna keep my hopes up and keep moving forward without just giving up or quitting on her just because we don't when is the call.

We still have to live our lives and do whatever is beneficial for her as well as ourselves. And I think that's why momma wanted to me to come to the store cause I ain't felt shit in days and I haven't even gone outside like that. Cause I wanna be on duty to make sure grandma don't miss the potty, catch her throw up or make sure she isn't out of oxygen when she needs it. Cause that's scary, I can literally be pissing or taking a shit, and if she had an "I can't breathe" moment I would feel like shit for that cause I wasn't nearby.

And even if she was to piss herself in bed, we got diapers, but I know she prefers to be on the potty or the toilet. Her not being able to feel when it's coming until it's too late, isn't as scary I just wanna make sure I'm doing a good job of taking care of her the entire time she's with us. I wouldn't wanna pass in a dirty diaper either, but realistically we don't have a nurse...and it'd just me and momma when dad goes to work, so it's mainly me on duty, momma on food. Cause my alert is on an all time high, it makes me feel like I was studying too hard when they finally wake up and I can go on break from grandma.

It worries me that I'm really getting 5-6 hrs of sleep, and I can't really focus on anything else, but I appreciate listening to country music or playing a video game to have fun for a little bit to keep me positive and ready to go back in there to help out.

[itsjusta]

March 1. (Mon)

my damgos were idiooots i had 2!!!! grrrr issa da first one was so sad and scary doe cos there were 3 of us in a room. it was me, mom, and a friend but idk who doeee and naa nisulod nga gunman tas gipusil niya sila duha and si mommy doe kay critical and grabe ang awas sa dugo so ako gihiktan sa cloth pero grabe na ako hilak doeee :(( and gitawagan nako si daddy doe but wala sya nituo iya rako pasagdan huhu and gitawagan tka doeee tas nianhi ka but u didnt help doeee u just left doe :((( i was so hurt doeee issa i felt betrayed cos wa gyd mo nitabang and mommy was dying doe :(( tas atong nakasakay nami sa tricycle going to hospital issa na see pa gyd tka sa dalan and gitawag tka but nag meet up man diay mo saimo uyab wth doeee i just cried a lot doe i was so scared na mamatay si mommy and i was alone HUHU and nakamata ko doeee and naa na gyd tears sako eyes :((( naka cry jd ko in real life huhu dat was so scary and so sakit doe!!!

da 2nd damgo also an idiot doeee cos kaslon na daw ko doe but di gyd ko gusto cos young paman kooo but daghan politicians nangadto doe and daghan gyd people naa pa gani ka hahha idk who’s my groom doeee but before ko nisulod sa church kay nang hangyo ko sko friend nga itakas ko doe so gikuha namo car ni Unabia and we drove away doeee HAHAHHA but then i got konsensya doeee luoy au mga people so ana ko balik nalang mi but i will explain na di gyd ko magpakasal doeee!!!! issa gi chat pa gani tka ato dayon doe i informed u nga mubalik ko aish but when we went back issa ang groom napd nawala doeee hahahah idiooot!!!

dis was a kapoy day doeee nag do ko smol acads lang then nag sleep lang and watch2 kdrama and tv heheheh i also realized na 9 months nata bulag omg?!?! so fast ang panahooon 🥺

March 2 (Tues)

issa an okay daaay langgg doeee issa 8 kapin ko kamata so early doeee aish so i hd iced coffee chour!!! issa nag acads pd ko hehe also nag gmeet mi ni claire for our midterms doeee and issa ordered mcflurry and fries yummy doe hehehe just watched tv with mom lang dayon after doee!! nag play pd ko codm with friends but kadjot lang 3 games laaang hehe and balik lang dayon ko room mom doeee tambay lang ko while watch sya tv heheh

March 3 (Wed)

issa an okay day lang alsooo doeee but dugay au time now!! issa after lunch i wanted to sleep doeee but so igang in my room and naa pajd ga videoke sa silingan and my mind also active aissshhh 🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️ issa watch nalang ko movie and then nag do midterms with claire doeee hehe

issa amo midterms doeee kay murag mag interview mi about samo personal problems jd doeee shy ko tell kay claire sako problems like sa family doeee and kato self harm aishhh ikaw ra baya nakabalo ato doeee :((( but its okay aishhh for da grades and issa klarye raman pd doeee i can also trust dat idiot heheh i also talked about our break up doe naka cry ko laytch uy!!! hahahah

when mommy arrived issa watch pd ko rv saiya room doeee

also i’m like an idiot doeee gi mute baya tka sa ig but sge ko adto saimo profile to see if naa ka story?!?! and maybe if naa dayon ma hurt dayon ko HAHAHHA issa so tiring to be an idiot 🤦🏻‍♀️

March 4 (Thurs)

i dont like this day doeee heavy ako heart since pag wake up and cry ko a looot and overthink ko a looottt 😔 just an extra hard daaaay today!!!! so hard to pugong the tears doeee 🥺🥺 (wrote dis before u sent pa dat msg doeee omg very emotional day gyd!!!)

issa sayo ko ka sleep gahapon doeee mga 11 hehe but aish 10 pa nag start naman ko sleep doe cos sleepy nako and bored na au ko doeee sleep nalang ko but my mind so activeeee many ko think nga sad tots issa idiot mind making me cry a litol!! hahah issa 11 na nuon ko ka sleep 🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️ issa wake up pd ko 7 kay naa ko class doeee issa not nice ako sleep uy issa ga damgo2 ko doeee and my latest damgo was classmate ta doe and di ka ga bali2 saako like imo ko gina avoid doeee issa idiooot bahala ka uy!!!! making me not feel good huh!!!! even when i woke up issa not ko feel good bcos of dat hmppp issa heavy ako heart pag wake up today!!!

issa ordered pancake and iced coffee from mcdo doeee palibre ko mo ako gi eat after class then nag do dayon ko isa ka activity heheh issa mga 10 am dayon nag walking mi sa dogs outside doeee kami pretprot and babas but mga 5 mins lang cos init!!!

issa cried pa more in the afternoon doeee issa mag nap unta ko but aisshhh my mind is thinking of a lot of things doeee :((( i feel like a lot will change doe and changes scare me doeee :(( i feel like u dont want to talk na doeee cos idk issa lahi imo vibes nooow murag feel nako gaka pugos rakag reply hahahaha and it makes me cry cos cutting off commu is going to be a big change gyd but again, i know nga if the time comes, i will have to accept man gyd and i know that time will come doeee but even if i know nga muabot doe kay its so sakit gihapon doe and its so scary :((( das why thinking about it doe just makes me cry hahah and aishhh i feel jd doe dat youre tired of talking to me HAHAHHA i even went to mom’s room doe para di nako cry but cry man gyapon ko uyyyy idiot

u know i’ve accepted najd doe nga di gyd ma return ako love and effort saimo but sometimes issa it just hurts so much doeee to not receive it back and days like these i ask for strength jd doe nga makaya nako ang kasakit 🥺🥺🥺🥺 (dis was before pa u told me to cut off doe omg issa strong gut feeling jd)

anddd yun na nga issa nag ask najd diay ka mag cut off and aisshhh it was scary gyd doe and sakit but no choice :(((( it’s for the best gyd sguro doeee cos maybe i’ll get in trouble and maybe mag away pd mo doe ion want u to be sad doeee if u get away :((( u know gyd na i will always kaya everything basta its for ur happiness doe 🥺🥺 i wish u only the best doeee even if kailangan mulayo ko saimoha doeee hehehe thank you for calling me!!!!! don’t miss me too much ok!!! bleh!!

if u feel overwhelmed na gyd with acads u can chat me ok!!!! and if u want to learn to edit vids doeee inshot is a good app heheh

March 5 (Fri)

issa woke up before 9 doeee idk why nga 1 naman unta ko ka sleep 🤦🏻‍♀️ grabe kahubag ako eyes doeeee so idiot huhu issa i saw pd irian’s tiktok when i woke up doeee cos i went man to ur profile issa u look good and happy together doe 🥺🥺 you guys are bagay doeee and i like seeing you laugh in the vids doeee issa makes me happy na inana ka ka happy 🥺🥺 i want u to be happy lang uyyy no no sad!! i pugong na not to cry doeee cos i cried a lot na kaayo gabii and my eyes so big naaaa but writing dis issa makes me cry a litol hahahha issa when i see raba stuff lyk dat dugay kaayooo mawala sako mind doeee unhealthy mind mani but aish im practicing gyd not to think about the stuff i see about u guys 💆🏻‍♀️

anywaaay today is day 1!!! ahhahah char 🥺🥺 im scared doe but idk alsoooo im just really thinking na its needed doe 🥺 im doing this for you gyddd doe cos i want u to have a happier relationship doe issa u know i would sacrifice a lot for ur happiness heheh i will also do this for myself doeee i will try not cry a lot and miss u alooot ok but i think gonna be hard esp the first weeks doeee so dont kasaba me if i cry a lot ok!!! :(((( u know i cry easily hmpppp

alsooo doeee my new tiktok is: displaylangsatiktok.a

u cant follow gyd me diay doeee its ok ako nalang gi public ang vids doeee im shy hahah but para ma see nimo doeee and unfollow nalang pd tkaaaa para not sya maka see sa ako profile okayyy but idk doe im shy man uy maybe ako ra i friends again issa di ka maka see aishhh bleh

i had iced coffee at 9:30 am doeee hehe i divided one medium iced coffee sa mcdo into 3 para mulast sya 3 mornings cos u know i palpitate if i drink a lot of coffee doeee hehhe at lunch time we went to laguidingan doe kami mom and daaad hehe we uban pretprot and babas kay luoy man pretty if sya lang alone 🤦🏻‍♀️ issa chivas doe sge pangaway sa mga dogs outside nya mga big raba jd doe and many pa gyd sila but isog au da smol dog!!!

issa i’m justi doing things that help me pass timeee doeee now issa nag draw2 ko kadjot doeee hahah and watch movie alsooo i just have to get used to this again doeee whenever i get the urge to cry doe i tell myself no no nooo huhu but idk if i can hold dis doee later if mag sleep nako

update: 9:58 and i cannot hold it na doeee cry na gyd ko cos i can see that u really love her doeee and aish sana ol 🥺🥺 u r a great person doe and she’s blessed to have youuu 🥺 and im so sorry if i bother you doeee :(

dis my last weekly update na okaaay i will do an everyday diary naaa so dat u will always be updateeed 🥺 maybe around 9-10pm every night ko post okaaay heheh

[yehet-me-up]

Frozen North ~ Night Three

PAIRING: Chanyeol x reader

GENRE: Horror/Suspense/SPOOP in general/light romance (because who else would I be?)

WORD COUNT: 2,160

RATING: PG13 (nothing gruesome, but knowing me there will be swearing)

SUMMARY: You run a late night radio show dedicated to telling scary stories and urban legends, the creepier the better. Listeners call in and share their own, creating a small but loyal community of folks like you who love this sort of thing. One night, a man calls in with what sounds like an all-too-real story and before you know it, you’ll do anything to make sure he’s safe.

Frozen North Masterlist

‘I don’t like this,’ Daniel says, coming into the booth with his bag slung over his shoulder. ‘Shit like this gives me the heebie jeebies.’

You stare at the number on the screen, running an anxious hand through your hair. ‘I don’t like it either. Something is seriously wrong here.’

He folds his arms and leans against the door frame. ‘And you’re sure this isn’t some stunt?’

Your eyes widen at his insinuation. ‘Do you think I’m doing this?’

Daniel sags with relief, awkwardly coughing. ‘No, I just- I’m glad you said it’s not you but… would have been nice if this was all some game.’

‘Yeah, it would have been.’ You stand and quickly close down your station. ‘I don’t think it is.’

He shuts off the studio lights, holding the door open for you. There’s a hauntedness behind his eyes that makes you shiver in the darkness. 

‘Me neither.’

When you get home the first thing you do is find food to shove in your face. The life of a grad student isn’t the most glamorous, but you make the most of it. Normally you try and cook a balanced meal, even though you get home so late. But tonight you grab a pack of mini muffins and pull out your laptop. 

You need answers, and you won’t sleep until you find them.

Grabbing your phone, you shove a muffin in your mouth and text the number, trying not to feel like you’re slowly going insane.

Y/N 12:31 AM: Chanyeol? If you’re there can you please tell me if you’re alright?

While you wait, you email yourself the photo from his FaceTime call. A reverse image search turns up nothing and you frown. Searching the most obvious place, you type his name into the advanced search on Facebook. 'Chanyeol’ garners 526 results. None of the first dozen or so listings look like him. You try to search Alaska but it brings up two profiles with default Facebook anonymous photos.

Frowning, you bite your lip. Instinct makes you type in ‘Seattle’ and instantly his profile comes up. You gasp and almost upend your laptop onto the floor, narrowly catching it with your quick reflexes.

His profile is set to private. ‘Dammit.’

It doesn’t give you much. A high school in Redmond, Washington. It says he attends the University of Washington too. Once for undergrad and now for grad school. No indication of years attended or major studied. No job listed. No friends list to dig through. The void of information makes you ache.

But it does give you one key thing - his last name. Park.

In under a minute you have his instagram profile pulled up. loey61.

It’s absolutely him. Gone are the fear and exhaustion from his face, he looks so real and alive and energetic in his photos he reminds you of the sun. As you scroll through his feed your heart squeezes insistently in your chest. His smile dominates his face, crinkles forming at the corners of his eyes as he laughs in photos.

Videos taken with a shaky hand at concerts. Sleepy selfies with his hand on his chin and his hair a mess of odd angles. Photos from a weeklong trip he took to Japan last year. 

It feels as though you know him, but you’ve never met; you’d have remembered the man with brown eyes and a voice like a roll of thunder. 

The bars he goes to with his friends are the same ones you frequent with your friends from school, with people from the station. He has no less than ten photos over the past few years of Suzallo library - the stained glass and the soaring Gothic architecture that surrounds your favorite study spot.

How have we been orbiting each other for years and never met? From his captions you gather he’s studying the anthropology of music. The buildings are right across from each other on campus. You frown and chew on the inside of your cheek. So strange.

Rallying your mind, you click on his most recent photo, dated a week ago. A photobooth photo, if you had to guess, of him in his bedroom playing the guitar, a pick between his teeth. The caption is the guitar emoji and the dancing man emoji.

The comments are what worry you.

Hey Chan, where are you? You missed my gig Monday at Showbox, what gives?

Helloooooo are you alive? Did Radiohead call you to tour and you’ve abandoned us?

Yo what time are we meeting for that study group on Thursday i totally forgot to write it down hahaha

Mom’s getting worried C, why aren’t you answering your phone?

The last comment catches your attention and you click on the profile. 

The family resemblance is uncanny, and the photo of the two of them from Christmas wearing matching reindeer antlers confirms it. With a shaky hand you click on the message button. ‘Shit, what do I say?’

You decide to just be straight with it. I think we should talk. My name is Y/N and I’m a radio host in Seattle. I think your brother has been calling in. Unless he’s the kind of person to pull some kind of crazy prank, I think he’s in danger. My number is 206-972-6347 if you prefer to text me. The show is The Long Night on 107.9 KJWZ and he’s called in the last two nights. The recordings should be up on our website.

It’s 1:57 AM at this point, so you don’t expect a response. There’s not much else you can do at the moment, so after dragging yourself through your nighttime routine you crawl into bed. 

As a last bleary thought you pull up his IG profile and send him a message.

I really hope you’re alright.

Aside from the usual messages from your friends, instagram alerts, and the like you have nothing from Chanyeol or his sister. With a sigh, you get ready for class.

Through a meeting with your thesis advisor, two seminars, a class you TA, and three hours in Suzallo studying and writing and trying not to watch for him, you anxiously check your phone every few minutes. Nothing.

By the time you arrive at the station you’re feeling anxious and desperate. On any other day it would amuse you how much you care about some random person, but this doesn’t feel random. It feels like fate, or some cruel joke God is pulling on you. 

Daniel gives you a tight-lipped smile when you come in the booth to set down your bag and coat. ‘Any word?’ he asks, eyeing the way you clutch your phone tightly.

‘No.’ You sigh, ‘I found him online, though.’

For once he doesn’t say anything back, just nods for you to continue.

‘I found his Facebook and his Instagram. I reached out to his sister. There’s all these worried comments…’

Suse stands up from the desk in the booth when she sees you and sets her headphones on the stand. She hurries into the room and puts an arm around you. ‘How’s it going with the mystery man? We’re all dying to know.’

You lean your head on her shoulder briefly before showing her the blank screen on your phone. ‘I messaged him last night, but there’s nothing. I don’t know what’s going to happen tonight, but I’m afraid for him.’

She sighs and snaps her fingers. ‘Dammit, I was hoping this was just a prank.’

‘Me too-’ you start, but get cut off by the dinging of your phone. You haven’t had it off silent since 2008, but this is a special occasion.

You pull up his message, heart thundering in your chest, and watch as photos come through. Six of them. Finally, a video. 

The photos are dark but they show a smooth white surface, lit by a moon high in the cloudy sky. All slightly blurry and from different angles, but it’s no mistaking this is the ice he’s been talking about.

‘Hey, I don’t mean to interrupt but it’s-’ Daniel starts, pointing at the clock.

‘So don’t,’ Suse says and waves him off.

You hit play on the video and the sound of wolves howling and wind makes your stomach drop. It’s only eleven seconds but it feels like it takes an eternity.

‘Oh, shit,’ Suse says behind you.

‘I know.’

‘No, look.’ She points to the vague outlines of dark lines on the video. ‘Are those bars?’

You play it over twice more, turning the brightness up and squinting. ‘Fucking hell, I think you’re right.’

Suse nudges your shoulder. ‘You should try to call him, he just sent these.’

‘Good idea.’

You hit the call button and wait while it rings. The longer it goes, the more Daniel points to the clock showing 8:06, the higher your anxiety rises. Finally, it ends. An automated message tells you yet again that the subscriber has not set up a voicemail box and you want to scream.

Frantically, you send him a text. Where are you?

‘If he doesn’t message me by intermission... I’m calling the cops.’

Suse shrugs on her coat and whoops. ‘Atta girl. I have to pick up Jimmy from work but if you need anything, call me. I mean it.’

‘Thanks.’

She leaves and you stare at the phone and the way those three little dots aren’t appearing. Daniel makes a noise of distress and you sigh. ‘Alright alright, I’m going.’

The show goes smoothly as it can. You thank yourself profusely for having Sundays set aside to pre-script the shows for the week. Lord knows where you’d be right now otherwise, with how much this Chanyeol situation has taken over your thoughts.

You and David the regular discuss the latest episode of Buzzfeed Unsolved. Someone going by the handle CryptidAndProud reads a decent Jersey Devil-inspired story they wrote. A weird crop circle in South America gets a good amount of traction. All the while you tap your foot and watch the clock tick on. Every few minutes you check your phone, refreshing your messages and instagram, hoping you’re not missing anything.

Just before the 10pm intermission a call comes in that makes you sag with relief.

1-907-613-2458 - UNLISTED NUMBER - NOME

You smash the answer button, cutting off one of the callers who is commenting that the crop circle ‘kind of looks like a dick from the right angle, right?’

‘Hello?’ You hardly recognize your own voice - high, frantic, worried. For long seconds the only thing you can hear is the distant sound of scuffling and what sounds like another man’s voice in the background. ‘Chanyeol?’

‘I’m here.’ He sounds so tired you feel it in your bones. ‘I don’t- I’m surprised I’m still here, honestly.’

‘Why is that?’

‘She came to me this morning. Before dawn,’ he says. The phone crackles and you hope the call didn’t drop. ‘I don’t want her to take me. I want to live.’

Suddenly, you want to cry. It seems incomprehensible that on Monday you didn’t know him at all, but by Thursday you’d give anything for him to be okay. You want to scream at him, asking if he’s safe, but you swallow it down harshly.

‘I want that too. How can I help you? Do you know where you are? I saw bars-’

The call cuts out and static fills the air. 

‘Hello? Chanyeol?’

Nothing. Your mouse hovers over the end call button but you can’t force yourself do it. The silence of the studio settles over you, not comforting like it usually is, but strangling, suffocating. You hate it with every fiber of your being. Daniel rubs his eyes in the booth, looking at stressed as you feel.

Clearing your throat, you hit end. The digital switchboard lights up, all sixteen lines filled with flashing lights. People out there, waiting to comment. 

‘Well. I don’t - I don’t know what to say. You guys have known me for years, most of you anyway. This isn’t something I’m doing. I think this is… something real. Something dangerous. If any of you know anything about Chanyeol Park, please call in. This has to end. I’ll be right back.’

You motion to Daniel and he queues up the ad break. With a sigh you slip off the headphones and they clatter onto the desk. Stroking your thighs anxiously you debate calling the police right this moment. Your phone rings, vibrating so loud against the wood of the desk you reel back and almost smack the back of your head on it. 

It’s not him and you want to howl. But it’s a Seattle number, and you’ve only given yours out to one person this week. Hitting accept you lift the phone. 

‘Hello?’

A woman’s voice comes through. ‘Hi, it’s... me Yoora. Chanyeol’s sister.’ She sniffles, she sounds as though she’s been crying. ‘I listened to your show. I think we need to meet up.’

~~~~~~

Tagging @yeoldontknow​ @enthusiastt​ @itskindofafairything​ @gogh-suck-it​ @nshitae​

[boymeetsweevil]

Breathe you in

Grouping: Popstar!Reader x Non-Idol!Taehyung

Word Count: ~7.8k

Warnings/Themes: Shotgunning (so thats recreational drug use), Rough face fucking, face-sitting (fm receiving), some background angst, not too scary lol

Summary: Can I pls request an ex lovers trope with taehyung where you broke up with him , but he shows you he loves you and was never over you and wants to be together again? Thanks!

A/N: This is part of the BTS Smut Club Anniversary fic exchange! Thanks for the prompt!

It’s nearing 10pm when the town car arrives in front of your apartment complex. The driver pulls up in the back entrance used primarily for allowing the higher profile residents to discreetly enter the building when needed. Normally the back entrance is littered with snapping cameras or fans who are trying their hand at stalking. Tonight none of those people are there for you because your mini-tour ended a day early, allowing you to return from Amsterdam a day before what’s scheduled on your website.

“Don’t forget,” your publicist sits across from you on the opposite leather upholstered bench of the car, “You’re close to reaching another follower milestone, so you need to do one last Instagram live before bed.” You release a deep sigh that sounds like it came from your bones.

“Shit. Bee, I’m really tired.”

“Language,” Bee admonishes while scrolling one iPhone in one hand before switching to the one in her other hand.

“Can’t it fucking wait,” you hiss, petty from exhaustion.

She pins you with a look that tells you she’s not playing this game with you and continues typing away. “You’ll sleep soon enough once we go through the checklist for today and tomorrow.”

Bee’s phone pings and you watch the set of her mouth grow infinitely more tense before her eyes dart to you. Rarely does hesitation temper her gaze like it does in this moment. You let out a sigh. She’s about to mention your ex.

“Also, Oh! News wants to bring you in some time this week to address statements Nick made about the breakup.”

“Of course they do,” you sigh again.

“I’ve been trying to push the date back but they’re not taking no for an answer. Plus, it might be better to go out and put an end to it so it can become old news.”

You massage your temples. “Yeah, no, I’ll do it. I’ll do it.”

Bee watches the gears in your head turn as you think about the whirlwind that was the breakup. With your departure to Europe only a few days after the PG-13 video of him with another actress blew up, there was naturally a lot of speculation. Most of it hateful and directed at you, surprisingly enough. Having just starred in a movie aimed at 12-17 year olds, Nick seemingly had all of the world’s young girl population locked and loaded at you. Your relative silence while on tour for two months in the Netherlands only fueled the outrage.

“Alright, alright,” she opens the door on your side and pushes your purse into your limp arms. “I had them take your luggage up before you. Do what I told you and then...go get some sleep, Sweets.”

“Thanks, Bee.”

Your penthouse apartment is as pristine as you left it when you push open the door, your luggage waiting neatly by your shoe closet. While you unpack your bags in your bedroom, you take note of the outfit laid out for your on your bed. It’s a pair of leggings that have sequins sewn up the sides and a matching off the shoulder top that will definitely require you to keep your bra on. It’s for the Instagram broadcast, so you won’t have to wear it long. But you want to crawl out of your skin and finally be able to turn off your public figure voice more than anything else. You suppose you can handle waiting a little while longer, though.

When you’re dressed and have your hair out of your face, you take your phone with you to the bathroom before waking up your speaker to play some mood music. A little tripod setup waits for you on the sleek countertop. Once your phone is plugged in and you’ve pulled up Instagram, you begin your livestream and your camera smile is on.

“Hey, everybody,” you greet the viewers already watching.

There’s a little more than 800,000 people are currently watching, more than normal this early in a live video. You attribute it to the tweet Bee sent from your Twitter a few minutes prior that broke your 2 month long internet silence.

“I’m sorry I’ve been gone so long,” you talk a little louder over the music you have playing. “I was so busy in Amsterdam and when I did have some down time, I wanted to really unplug. So I didn’t use social media while I was there. I’ll definitely be uploading the pictures I took, though. I saw some really amazing stuff.”

You begin pumping an oil cleanser into the palms of your hands while stopping to read the comments as they come up on the screen. Some of them you ignore because they’re comments from Nick’s fan accounts. Others welcome you back and some are fans of the artist you were touring with.

“How was touring with Nana,” you echo the fan’s question while rubbing your makeup off. “She was so wonderful, oh my god. I think she’s got such a beautiful point of view when it comes to her lyrics about getting older and dealing with the pressures of being a woman in the spotlight. Also her fashion sense is incredible.”

A few more questions about the products you’re using and what you did on your off time come up. Some people ask if you’re working on a new album yourself and you talk about that as much as you can without breaking any promises, keeping the essentials a secret. Another person asks you to sing a few bars from your verse on the song you did with Nana and you do. By the time you’re tapping moisturizer onto your face, you’ve almost made it through the broadcast unscathed. But then you see a comment that has you breaking character for a second, your muscles freezing.

douknowbt$: OMG Nick is watching the live.

Hopefully no one notices your 2 seconds of panic, but you can’t be sure until someone else blogs about it. You dismiss the comment and finish up with a few pumps of hand cream, rubbing your hands a bit manically as the comments about Nick begin to grow in number. In that moment, you sign off and quickly move to end the live. But with your haste and slippery fingers, you don’t realize you missed the button and the recording was still going.

A few of the viewers try to send messages letting you know that the live hasn’t ended, but you don’t check your phone again after throwing it onto your covers and climbing into bed. With the camera facing up, you’re seen pulling up your laptop and putting on some classical music using the surround sound speakers in your bedroom. From the screen, all the viewers can see you sitting stiffly on your bed, eyes closed for a few minutes in what looks like meditation as the adagio that’s playing washed over you. After a few deep breaths, you open your eyes and reach for your phone.

“Oh sh—,” you keep yourself from cursing at the last second when you discover the livestream didn’t end. “I’m sorry, guys. I was so tired I guess I didn’t realize I forgot to end the video. I’m signing off for real now. Yes, yes, I’m okay. Just tired. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

You triple check to make sure the video is off before throwing your phone across the bed. The day didn’t seem like it could get worse after your long flight and even longer wait at the airport when it seemed like your luggage was lost. Not to mention that you were bone tired and hungry but couldn’t have any of the foods you were craving because of a stupid photo shoot coming up in a few weeks. In that moment, the intercom rings, signaling that the front desk is trying to reach you, but you remain in bed and hope that it’ll stop. It does, for a moment, before starting up again. You groan before getting up and heading to the front door.

“Yes?”

“Hello Miss,” says the cheerful older man who runs the front desk during nights. “I trust you’re having a delightful evening.”

“Hello, Sir.”

“We just wanted to alert you that the delivery person with your order is currently on the 15th floor and should be at your suite shortly. Please anticipate your food’s arrival in the next few minutes and have a pleasant rest of the evening.” The call ends just like that, not leaving you any room to protest and say that you didn’t order food.

You figure it’s just that Bee saw what a huge shitshow your livestream was and she wants to send you something to make you feel better. And no doubt if it was something that came with a delivery person, it was good food. If she came herself, she would definitely have brought something like a salad bowl or a sushi plate. If you eat another vegetarian sushi plate, you're certain you'll die. Not from Mercury poisoning—like your mother always warns you about—but from sadness.

A tentative knock on the door sounds and you open it with a plasticky smile. Sometimes they send people who get a little star struck. Most times you’re amenable to just being subdued but friendly so that they just ask for a selfie or a quick autograph on a take out napkin and don't try to linger or say you were a bitch later on. 

Tonight you're not really in the mood for too much friendliness tonight, though. In the drawer next to the door, you dig around for the wad of cash you keep hidden there and pull an obscene tip out.

“Hi, thank you,” you keep your head down and blindly reach for the white paper bag in the person's hand. “Have a good—excuse me, asshole!”

“That’s not my name.”

The hand yanks the bag out of your reach at the last second, lifting high above your head. You’re not at all in the mood for dealing with a pissy delivery boy who wants to knock you down a few pegs. Putting your hands on your hips, you’re about to give him the verbal lashing he deserves, PR consequences be damned, when you a good look at his face stops you.

“Taehyung?”

“In the flesh,” he shoots back at you.

The man in front of you gives you a muted, smug smile before shouldering his way past you and into your apartment. He stands tall in the foyer of your apartment like he belongs there and has been there a thousand times. You can’t help but drink in the image of your ex-boyfriend from half a decade ago despite the fact that he’s technically intruding. There’s still a whisper of the boy you started dating when you were in your last year of high school, but much of that is overpowered by the man he is now. He’s broader in the jaw and the shoulders than he was before, and there must have been some growth spurts since you last saw him.

“This is real nice,” he lets out a low whistle as he takes in the large open floor-plan of your apartment. You follow closely behind as he starts walking around, head cocked forward with purpose.

“What are you looking for?”

“The kitchen,” he says casually.

“It’s that way,” you gesture before realizing that you need to get your priorities straight. “What are you doing in my house?”

“I came to bring you food.”

The bag he raises gives off a pleasant savory smell and you clench your fist to keep yourself from excusing his sudden appearance.

“I didn’t ask for food. And I certainly didn’t ask you for food.”

“Touchy,” he turns back to pin you with an amused grin. “But you didn’t have to ask. I knew you needed it.”

“You knew I needed it?” You raise an incredulous eyebrow, eager to hear his explanation. “How did you know I needed it?”

He places the bag on the countertop in your kitchen, standing on the opposite side of the counter.

“Because,” he sighs, “I saw your Instagram live and you were playing Elgar. You never play Elgar unless something’s really wrong.”

“I—that’s,” he pushes the bag toward you while you try to come up with a reason while he’s wrong, when he’s not.

You’ve had a habit of playing classical music when you were near your breaking point. It’s been a habit that you’ve had since you were 10, but concealed long before you started your time in the spotlight. While you were dating Taehyung, you were a depressed teenager and he was present for some of the worst times of your life. Several times he’d found you in your room or your parents’ car blasting tragic symphonies as accompaniment for bawling your eyes out. But that was years ago.

“You can eat it. I’m not hungry,” you finally say. He looks at you like he can tell you’re lying, but plays along and shrugs.

“Fine.” He opens the bag and pulls out some smaller plastic containers of food and a spoon.

“I didn’t mean here!”

He chuckles at your outburst, mumbling something about fame not changing you, before ambling out of the kitchen and through the rooms until he arrives at your bedroom. You find him about to sit on your bed and rush over.

“If you took the subway here, don’t even think about sitting on that bed.”

“What? Suddenly my subway clothes are too dirty for your bed?”

“Yes,” you huff. “The sheets alone cost me more than half a grand.”

“What the hell,” he jumps up like he’s been shocked. “Why would you spend that much on sheets?”

“They’re highly rated,” you admit with a small voice. “And they’re used by many foreign diplomats.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re so prissy.”

“We can’t all be members of a practical startup.” When his eyes widen in surprise, you curse yourself for letting him know you still keep tabs on him. “Besides. You used to like prissy.”

“Still do,” he gives you with a molten look that has you moving away from him and fluffing pillows to hide your flustered state.

“Why are you still here?”

“Because you’re hurting.”

“Maybe,” you throw your hands up. “But that’s not your job anymore.”

He runs a hand through his dark hair, parting the shiny waves carelessly. He’s not sure how to admit that he’s been making sure fame doesn’t eat you alive ever since you broke up with him to pursue your singing career. The memory of that day rings clear in his head even after five years of being split up.

Cliche as it sounds, it was a rainy night. You were at a meeting with Bee a few days before the entertainment label you were flirting with was going to give you the final version of your contract to sign.

Bee was never a huge fan of his, so Taehyung waited outside her office instead of interrupting the meeting to let you know he was there. But with the office door cracked, he could still hear the sounds of your conversation and the soft sounds of your sobs.

His blood grew cold when he heard what Bee was telling you. She told you starting this career with a relationship would hurt your numbers by making it impossible for your male fanbase to project their fantasies onto you because of the presence of another guy in your life. She told you if you were going to make it, you’d need to play up the role of sexy girlfriend to the audience members for the first album at least and that wouldn’t be possible if they got wind of Taehyung.

He covered his own mouth, barely fighting tears from welling up, listening as you tried to plead with Bee. Your voice was watery as you tried to convince her that you could make it without the girlfriend role. That you had enough work ethic and talent to do it. And when she didn’t budge, you said that you loved him and threatened to walk out right then if you had to break up with him. He listened to Bee tell you that you were being naive and that you’d be stupid to throw away all your opportunities for a boy.

And Bee was right.

So when you came outside minutes later with puffy eyes and a white knuckled grip on the sleeves of your sweater, he’d accepted his fate. He’d even accepted the lie you told him about having another guy on the side. Though you couldn’t produce a name when he asked who it was. Though you looked up at him like you wanted to take it all back. Though you leaned your forehead on his chest like you were in the greatest amount of pain. He accepted it all and walked away.

That is, if walking away meant that he created fake social media accounts so he could comment positive things on your first few interview videos and bought tickets to as many concerts he could when you were in the area. He never tried to make his presence known, just stood there and drank in how vibrant you looked when you were on stage and singing your heart out. It took a while for the jealousy to stop rearing its ugly head whenever he looked at how other people would show their adoration for you. By the time Nick came around, he was convinced he was content with how things were. But after seeing the way Nick’s cheating affected you, he had a hard time sitting still.

“Well, I’m not leaving until you feel better. So, you better start talking.”

“What is there to even say?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

You sigh and ignore him in favor of walking over to the large sofa in the corner of your room and collapsing on the large sofa face first. A dip in the cushions near you tells you he’s followed you and sat down. When you finally reveal your face, he’s peering down at you with a sad look in his eyes. The sad, sympathetic look that would always get you spilling your guts when you were still together. So you tell him everything.

It's almost embarrassing to tell him that you thought you loved Nick. At their best, things with Nick were comfortable and sometimes passionate, but it wasn’t anything close to love. Nothing close to what you had with Taehyung. And how could it have been when the reason you got together in the first place was because Bee thought you could ‘scratch each other’s backs’? Nick was not only handsome with the clean image Bee wanted for you, but you were writing and singing the theme song for the blockbuster movie he was to star in. It all seemed to work at first.

It only took one tabloid story suggesting that he was seeing some other younger and bustier actress behind your back to make you see that nothing you had with him was substantial. You brought the story up as a joke, thinking you could laugh about the way tabloids would do anything for story—even lie. As soon as you mentioned it to him, he denied it hastily and made a snide comment about not believing everything you see just because it’s technically press. After that, it was like a switch had been flipped and suddenly you couldn’t be in the same room together for more than 10 minutes without going at each other’s throats. The cheating rumors kept flaring up until they reached a peak a little more than 2 months ago, when someone anonymously submitted a video of him groping and kissing the same actress outside of a bakery in your hometown in broad daylight.

After watching the video about 15 times on the plane to Amsterdam, you concluded that even though he had long since established himself as a grade-A asshole in your mind, he was in mushy-love with this girl. You could tell from the sweet way he cradled her face while kissing her and how he took the extra step to block any potential cameras before giving her impressive rack a squeeze. Lucky for you, the video didn’t really evoke any messy emotions like jealousy. Instead there was just some satisfaction at having your suspicions confirmed and knowing he’d have to clean up this mess. You felt bad for the other actress, though. She was just starting out with mainly B movie roles and there was no telling whether the public would fillet her or ignore her altogether.

Taehyung has to sit on his hands to keep from rubbing your back you as you pour out all the things that had been stressing you out. What startles him is how stoic you are the whole time. When he first met you, you cried at the drop of a hat. It was endearing back then, but there’s no trace of it now. You sniffle a little when you talk about some of the vicious hate mail you received while in Amsterdam, but besides the shining eyes, that’s it. He clenches his jaw and wonders what you must have gone through in the last five years to have lost that quality.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles when the lull in the conversation is longer than he expected.

“It’s fine, I just,” you sniff again, wipe your eyes carefully. “I was really hoping that once the dating clause in my contract expired, things wouldn’t blow up in my face like this. And now I can’t go anywhere without people shoving mentions of Nick in my face. I just—it sucks. I just want to do what I want and I thought I’d earned that right but I guess not.”

“I don’t know. I think you’ve earned it. You’re grammy nominated this year, and you visited 13 countries this year alone.”

“What are you? President of my fan club?”

“Do I look like a 14 year old girl to you?”

You squint like you’re giving it some thought and he squawks.

“I’m just kidding,” you duck your head. “You’re, what, 226?” He laughs at the extra two centuries you’ve tacked on.

“You remember my birthday,” he smiles widely.

“Of course I do.” The way he looks at you makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up so you change the subject. “Alright. I’ve done enough talking. Where’s my compensation?”

“You literally haven’t changed at all,” he says while fishing in the pockets of his dark wash denim jacket. It takes a few seconds and he has to pull a few balled up receipts and earphones out of the pockets but he eventually pulls out a fat blunt and brandishes it like a huge check.

Nose wrinkling, you push his hand out of your face. “Weed?”

“Yeah! You said you wanted a pick-me-up, right? And I just got this yesterday from a dispensary. This is the good, strong shit. Probably could compete with the stuff they have in Amsterdam.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be able to tell.”

“Huh,” he furrows his brow while hunting for a lighter.

“I’ve never smoked so I wouldn’t know.”

“You mean you were in Amsterdam and you didn’t even try to smoke?”

“It’s bad for my voice,” you whine at his judgmental glare.

“Bullshit.”

“It smells like armpit,” you try again.

“There’s the prissy princess. Well, you should know that the only stuff that smells like that is the shit broke evil dealers peddle to broke college students.”

You roll your eyes, but sit up on your heels so you can pay closer attention. Taehyung flicks his lighter to life and lights up the end of the blunt. He takes a deep inhale before letting out a thick cloud of smoke. He gestures for you to take it, but you shake your head nervously.

“What’s the matter now?”

“I don’t know how to do it. What if I burn my lips?”

He squints at you, wondering how you can be such a baby. “The cherry’s not even on the side you put your mouth on.”

“Whatever! I’m still scared.”

“Do you want to try it, though?”

You gnaw at your lip thoughtfully and decide that you need to take your mind off everything for a while. “Y-yeah, I guess. I don’t have a studio session tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He scoots forward on the couch until your knees are just barely brushing. “I’ll shotgun it to you.”

“What’s that?”

“You’ll see.”

He takes another drag, this time a little smaller, and holds the smoke in his mouth. Turning to you, he leans in until you can feel his bangs brush your forehead as he tilts his head to get the angle right. There’s about an inch of space between your mouths when he starts to let the smoke billow out of his mouth. You get the gist and try to inhale it as best as possible, but you’re new to it and he’s too far away for you to get the smoke.

“I’m not getting any,” your tone is petulant as the smoke floats up around your face.

Taehyung, on the other hand, is already feeling the effects of the strong blend he bought. He scoots forward once more and then turns to the side so he can take another drag. This next time, he grabs your jaw and brings you forward to meet him. Thumbing at your bottom lip, he coaxes your mouth open and slack before slotting his lips over yours. You feel the brush of the supple skin of his lips and it distracts you a bit, but this time you do manage to inhale most of the fumes. Your eyes drop closed as you hold the smoke in for as long as possible before letting your breath out.

“How was that,” Taehyung asks lowly. His lids have drooped to match his relaxed state. With the high slowly creeping over him, he ogles you unabashedly.

“It was okay. Do it again.”

He nods and quickly burns through the rest of the blunt, giving you the larger hits when he shotguns to you and taking slightly smaller drags for himself. To keep you nearby, his hand comes to rest heavily on the small of your back. You, still on your haunches, somehow end up straddling one of his thighs to stay close. Near the end of the blunt, you’re feeling a bit floaty and like the heat from the blunt transferred to your belly. Taehyung’s gaze feels tangible on you, like a firm-handed caress across all parts of you as he looks you over. Like smoke on your skin. You recognize the feeling as one you haven’t felt in a while and move to sit more properly in his lap.

“I want the last one,” you whisper while tugging on the collar of his jacket. The ends of his long hair tickle your fingers.

He nods and moves slowly to suck the roach dry. Once he’s close enough, you wait patiently. His nose grazes your cheek for a few long seconds before he finally turns to pass the smoke to you. You take it obediently and exhale but then grab him by the lapels to press your lips to his. His hands come up immediately to cup your face and pull you closer. You work your lips over his, drawing low groans from him as your tongue teases his.

“You smell good,” he says groggily between kisses.

“Thanks,” you roll your eyes.

His eyes flutter shut when you begin to press kisses to the column of his throat, your hands moving to unbutton the dress shirt he’s wearing underneath. He tries his best to keep up with you, but he gets slow when he’s high. So he settles for you being in charge, but does let his hands roam over your body.

A lot has changed since he last felt you like this. The strict gym regimen you employ to compliment choreography for songs has given you an amazing ass that he thought could only gaze at in pictures. And he had done quite a lot of that. Though he’s not sure how you would feel if he confessed to jerking off to some of your sexier music videos. He marvels at the feel of you and you’re pleasantly surprised when his hands come down heavy on your hips to grind you down onto his lap. A pleased hum leaves you and you reward him with kisses migrating lower, across the path of his now exposed torso. You leave the couch to sit between his spread knees on the floor. The button of his jeans is your last major obstacle and you still your hands over the waistband patiently.

“You get where I’m going with this, right?”

He nods his head, tongue coming out unconsciously to wet his lips at he takes in the sight of you on your knees in front of him.

“Do want you want me to...” you trail off, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed at asking your ex if you could blow him.

“Do you? Want to?” His hand reaches out to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over you cheekbone.

“Yeah?”

“Then, yeah.”

You move quickly to unbutton his pants and slide them down his thighs once he lifts his butt to assist you. He’s wearing boxers, which is a relief because you don’t want his bare ass on your very expensive couch, and the crotch opening provides easy access. With one hand, you smooth the wrinkles in his boxers over, noting the tent in the fabric and the dark stain where his head must be dribbling pre-cum. Your mouth is watering as you pull him out and test his girth and weight in your hand. Just the sight of his dick in your hand makes you want to swallow him down.

Before he can say anything else, you’re wetting his shaft with broad licks from root to tip. He grits his teeth and lets out a satisfied grunt at the way it feels when you tongue at his slit. You take him in until you just barely wrap your lips around the head, and he lets out a low moan at finally being enveloped in the wet, silken heat of your mouth.

“Can you do me a favor,” he manages to ask you despite the fact that stars are forming in the corner of his vision when you take him against the inside of your cheek.

“Hmm,” you hum around him, causing his hips to jolt up the tiniest amount.

“Can you spit on it?”

You smile in a way that can only be described as predatory and pull him out of your mouth. You spit like he asks, letting some drool pool on him as well, while he moans again and his hand comes out to smooth over your hairline. He’s more vocal than you remember and it gets you wet quickly. Before you stain anything, you kick off your stupid bedazzled leggings so you can return them to Bee in the morning.

“Shit,” he hisses when you start bobbing your head to a fast and unforgiving rhythm. You’re playing with him, you want to wring an orgasm out of him, and he can sense this. “Why don’t we take this s-slow?”

You pull off briefly. “Tae, I want you to fuck my face. That’s not well-suited to slow.”

“Isn’t that bad for your voice,” he mimics your tone from earlier.

You give him a pinch on his thigh before taking him into your mouth again and resuming your ministrations. Since you’re so focused on getting what you want, he decides to try and level the playing field and keeps his hip movements to a minimum and opts to talk through the head instead. He’s determined to get some clarity with you

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes deeply through the feeling of your saliva starting to trickle over him. The slide is getting slicker as you continue, making him lose his train of thought briefly. “So much.”

Instead of replying back with words, you just give a little acknowledging noise that’s too neutral to be a dissenting or affirming noise. He takes it in stride and continues.

“I still think about you all the time. And I—fuck—I’ve tried to date other people, but it’s just never felt quite the same way. You were the only one who understood me so well and who didn’t try to change me.”

His words wash over you and a wave of fondness hits you in a way that has you almost shy. You haven’t been shy in a long while because you couldn’t afford to be in your line of work. People were always trying to capture parts of you, and a great deal of them were trying to capture the uglier sides. There was no room to actually fear that for the last five years of your life because it was inevitable to a certain degree. But as you work over Taehyung, his words make you feel stripped down. You feel bare and small despite the fact that his words have nothing but good in them really.

“If I’m being honest,” he says and you slow your rhythm to stare at him, wondering what he could have to confess. “You might be even further out of my league than when we first met.” You sigh and pull off of him.

“Tae, come on. Give yourself some slack.”

“No, I mean it,” he sits up slowly, tongue heavy with earnestness as he tries to talk through the high. “It seems like you’ve only become more comfortable with yourself since you started singing and the way you move—it’s like you’re from another planet.”

“Oh my god,” your cheeks heat up when he looks at you like you have a halo and wings. “Stop, you’re being so unnecessary right now.”

“I still love you,” he says. The words fall from his mouth like he’s been dying to say them. “And I know you didn’t cheat on me when we were younger.”

Your mouth drops open in shock. To this day you still regretted lying to him like that. But deep down you knew that there was something off about his reaction. He didn’t seem shocked or nearly disappointed as you thought someone might be when they hear they’re being left for another person. Instead, he had just nodded and insisted on driving you home until Bee had to come out and promise him that she’d do it herself. The fact that he didn’t block you on social media or try to drag your name through the mud immediately after your debut made you wonder if he saw through your lie.

“How did you know?”

“I came early to pick you up that day. And I heard Bee tell you what to say to me. How to break up with me.”

“Tae, I’m so—”

He shushes you with a tender kiss to the cheek that’s so soft you’re rendered momentarily speechless.

“I know. It’s not your fault, they didn’t give you a choice.”

“I would have picked you if I could,” you mumble into the space between you. His hands feel like anchors on either side of your face and you cling to them in the hopes that you won’t cry. “I really would have. You don’t know how much I missed you.”

“I feel the same way. It killed me to see you with that Nick asshole.”

You smirk a little at the mention of Nick. “Aw. Were you jealous, Tae?”

He looks down at you for a second, reading your face carefully, before dropping one hand down from your cheeks to the nape of your neck. The weight of it reads as possessive on your skin and you lean forward unconsciously until you’re able to smell the faintly sweet smell of smoke on his clothes.

“You’d like it if I was, right?” His gaze hardens, setting your heartbeat into a rabbit-quick pace. “Hmm? You like me being jealous of him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. Answer me.”

“Okay, fine. Maybe I do,” you nuzzle into his neck to hide the excited smile splitting your lips.

“I knew it. It’s pretty on-brand for you.”

He nudges your bare thigh to signal you need to get up and so you do. You’re about to ask him what the hell ‘on brand’ means for you when he bends down to throw you over his shoulder with a low grunt.

“Tae, what the hell!”

Your raised voice gets you a harsh tweak to the perky globe of your ass and immediately quiets you down. He walks with you to the bed before throwing you down. Not rough enough to hurt but just rough enough to surprise you and give a doe-eyed look to your face. When you look up at him, his charade has fallen a bit, eyes returning to their original sleepy softness.

“Is this how you want it,” he asks you.

His voice is deep and gentle, and it evokes a different but equally visceral reaction. You nod and then shuffle over to the edge of the bed and sit at the edge of the mattress, waiting to see where he’ll take the situation. He smiles darkly at you once more before placing a hand on the back of your head to lead to his crotch.

His erection stands taller than it did before on the couch and he digs his fingers into your hair when you plant sweet kisses on the juncture where his thigh meets groin. You look sweet like this—playful, even—as you mouth along his length with kitten licks interspersed. When you’re about to take him into your mouth once more, he fists your hair and pulls you off him. With your head angled up to look into his eyes, you see a new emotion in them.

“Look,” he sighs. “If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do the whole thing.”

“What, like sex?”

“No, I mean you and me. I want to be with you. I’ve made my peace with what happened between us, but I know I still love you. So, I’m asking you to decide if you’re willing to do that, to be with me. Because I can’t—”

“Yes.”

“What?” His eyes grow wider and take on an awestruck quality. Like he’s not sure he wants to believe what he heard from you. “Really?”

“I want to try again,” you curl your hands around his hips. Bringing him forward into a hug around his pelvis, you lean your chin on his lower abdomen and try to infuse as much reassurance as you can into your smile.

“You won’t get in trouble with your agency?”

You shake your head and curl your arms around his hips, bringing him into an awkward hug as you lean your chin on his lower abdomen and look up at him. “Nick was an exception because he and I were arranged by our respective agencies, but my dating clause expired last year. I can date who I want. Within reason.”

He throws his head back with the realization that he’ll get a second chance with you. The hand he has on the back of your head softly caresses the skin of your neck.

“God, I love you,” he breathes with eyes drifting closed in contentedness.

“Good. Now can we get back to this? You were being fun earlier.”

“Yeah?” His tone turns gravelly and coy as he coaxes you back towards his dick. “Are you ready to choke?”

You can only nod as you take him in gradually, only for him to wait until you get halfway and push your head further down. You gag around him at the sudden pressure at the back of your throat, but shift your breathing through your nose to get a better handle on it. He pulls you by the hair until you’re at the tip again before slamming you back down, your nose nearly brushing the skin of his abdomen. You gag and the sound causes him to thicken in your mouth and a rush of arousal to trickle down into your panties.

“You feel so good around my cock,” he moans as he begins thrusting shallowly into your mouth. You can tell he’s close from how irregular the rhythm is. “Can you try to deep throat me?”

After you give an affirmative hum and relax your throat as best you can, he takes your face in both hands and starts to pull you up and down his length, going further each time until he knows he’s in your throat from the sudden tightness of you swallowing and the increase in gagging. Saliva is now dripping from your mouth, coating him and your chin, but you don’t care. Your eyes tear up at the burning sensation, but you can also feel your arousal trickle down your leg as he fucks your mouth more intensely. Right as you press two fingers to your clothed center for some relief, he gives you a tapped warning on your neck and his orgasm spills into your mouth.

He quickly pulls off his jacket and shirt, handing the latter to you to wipe your eyes and mouth with. Once your face is dry, he tucks himself back in and climbs around you into the bed. You turn to watch him fold back your blankets and throw the pillows you have all to the foot of the bed, leaving the space by the headboard. Taehyung then lies down, head where your pillows once were.

“Going to sleep already?” Your voice comes out in a sultry croak that has him laughing a little.

“No, I’m getting ready for you to sit on my face,” he says simply.

When you don’t budge, he sits up and pulls you by the arms toward him. You try to escape him, but his grip just tightens the more you protest.

“Tae, wait, I’m not—”

“You’re not what?”

“I’m not...presentable. Down there.” You avert your eyes as you explain to him that it's been a since you were last at a spa to get waxed. You figured since you weren’t seeing Nick anymore and you were mandated by your PR crew to wait at least 4 months after a breakup, there was no need to keep up with such a strict...landscaping routine. He rolls his eyes and moves to pull on the waistband of your panties to peek in and see what you mean, but you shove him away.

“Do you think I actually care?”

“Do you really not?”

“No? Unless you have some disease or infection, what’s the issue?”

“I’m clean,” you pout.

“Good,” he says before placing a kiss on your lips.

While you’re distracted by the kissing, he maneuvers you into straddling his waist before pulling back. Reluctantly, you shuffle up to hover over his ribcage and shyly grab the headboard. He huffs.

“You know I can’t reach you from there. It’s called sitting on someone’s face for a reason.”

He nudges your butt until the seat of your panties lines up with his jaw. He sees a few errant curls peeking out from the leg holes of your panties, so he uses a finger to push your underwear to the side to get a better look. What’s unsurprising is that it still looks like a vagina, though it had been a while since his last non-bald encounter. He doesn’t care, though, and cups your butt in his hands to move you the rest of the way.

The broad strip he licks up from your entrance to your clit takes you by surprise and because you were wound up so tight from a combination of nerves and horniness from blowing him, you let out a high keening sound. Taehyung chuckles beneath you before using his full lips to kiss at the apex of your thighs, sucking your clit into his mouth. The tip of his tongue scrubs figure eights against the bundle of nerve endings and has you squirming over him. More arousal leaks from you and he shifts to drink from you, humming and slurping obscenely. He then starts to lick at you in earnest, tracing strategic shapes across your lips and sucking with varying pressures and paces until you start rocking over him on your own accord.

“That’s my girl,” he praises you from below. “Now, ride my face,” he says before flattening his tongue and pressing up to meet your tentative grinding thrusts.

The combination of saliva and your arousal makes the glide smoother than you expected and it feels so good that one of your hands leaves the headboard to fist in his thick hair. He moans a little at the faint sting and wraps his hands around the backs of your thighs to press you against him harder. His tongue dips into your entrance occasionally, chasing the flavor of your arousal, trying not to let any of your juices go to waste. You bite your lip to trap the wanton moans trying to escape you, but Taehyung realizes what you’re doing and gives you another sharp swat to the bottom to coax them out, mumbling against the inside of your thigh not to hide from him anymore. 

As you start to move more desperately above him, he attempts to fuck you more purposefully with his tongue. It’s just enough that in a dozen more swivels of your hips, you’re cumming all over his face, soaking his cheeks with a glistening varnish. You try to move as quickly as possible, but he stops you with a tight hold on your hips and licks you clean. You squirm away, partly because you’re sensitive and partly because he’s so enthusiastic about it that you’re a little bashful.

Finally he lets you get off him, but he doesn’t let you get too far. He follows you and almost makes it into the en suite with you, but you close the door at the last moment. You pee and clean up and when you come out, you feel like a weight has been lifted. Taehyung looks infinitely more sober lying in the middle of your bed in just his boxers, eyes bright and hair messy as he tries to figure out which remote will turn on your speakers.

You stand by the bed and watch him for a while. He turns to you innocently and holds the remotes in his two hands with confusion.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you approach your closet and take off your borrowed sweatshirt before looking for your favorite well-worn sweatsuit. “You’re just so pretty.”

“You’re prettier,” he shouts over to you. He can’t see you inside your closet, but you’re smiling like an idiot.

When you’re fully changed, you go to the bed and lean over him to kiss him. He still smells like you and you tell him so, to which he responds with a grin and subtly licking his lips.

“So when do you want me to tell the public about you?”

“Whenever you want,” he shrugs.

“Really? Because there’s a good chance you won’t be able to live your life the same way you have been once I do that.”

“Then it’ll just change. I would expect it to if you’re coming back into my life again.”

“Oh my god, you’re so—”, you’re at a loss for words.

You decide to crawl into his space and pepper kisses into his skin. He smells like a strange blend of you and him, but the smell is reassuring in some way unknown to you. You sit there for the rest of the night, breathing him in like smoke