#messed with some shading on this one wee

[nightfall-cat]

Puppy in my Pocket Ava/Ami

Recently refound this show from my childhood so i had to do fanart for the one character that had a big impact on my childhood pfff.

[bandgie]

During the Party

virgin!hueningkai x fem!reader

a/n: second part to this post

synopsis: Seeing you get hit on by Yeonjun during a frat party makes Kai do things he knows he'll regret. You take this opportunity to test to see how far Kai is willing to go to please you, at the expense of his dignity.

warnings: MDNI 18+, semi-public oral (f receiving),, Yeonjun is more involved, cum eating (sorry it's my speciality), jerkin off, forced!voyeurism, alcohol/weed mentions, reader is mean mean mean!, kai is just a wee lad, hair pulling, kai is referred to as a dog, idk that's it

3.9k words

Sucking Kai's cock became a way to pass time. In the library, the back of the abandoned buildings, the nearby park deep into the night. It really didn't matter where, your throat just craved to be stuffed with him. Kai was still hesitant, but after a few more times of cumming in your mouth, he let up his protests.

You couldn't do that forever though, and you were getting rather bored of your activities with him. It's how you ended up at the party Yeonjun's fraternity was hosting. The music was loud, the living room was packed with sweaty bodies, and your head was spinning from the smoke clogging the air. 

Your eyes were scanning the sea of bodies for your next fuck. There were a few potential candidates, but you couldn't find the energy to talk to them. It would be much better if they were like Kai. Easy, but not in the sense that they've been around. More like they couldn't say no, that they couldn't manage to stand up for themselves.

Pathetic. You've gotten used to Kai's pathetic self that putting energy into sleeping with anyone else turned you off.

A sudden pair of slender fingers grabbed your waist, and you opened your mouth to tell them to fuck off before you saw the familiar face. Yeonjun had sunglasses on, his hair slicked back, and a simple black tank top that screamed I'm here to get fucked tonight. You've messed with Yeonjun more than once, and his easy going personality made it easier for you to sit back and let him do all the talking.

He’d do for now.

"Funny seeing you here," a lazy smile sits on his face. You turn to face him fully, matching his smirk. "Funny? Why’s that?" You fold your arms across your chest as you regard him. He lifts his shades to rest them on his forehead, "You've been gone a lot. Ignoring my calls, ghosting me. I think this is the first party you've turned up to in weeks. That's not like you."

As tempting as it is to roll your eyes, he's right. You have been absent from your usual tendencies. His observations irk you, "Why do you care? Not getting enough pussy?" Yeonjun is quick to notice your clipped tone, but he ignores it. "Me? Not getting enough pussy? I don't think that's possible. You should see the chicks that throw themselves at me. Not that I can blame them, I'd fuck me too."

Now you're done with the conversation. His cockiness is something you thought you've grown accustomed to, but 'hanging out' with Kai so much made you favor the opposite. You turn on your heel to escape Yeonjun, but he follows suit behind you. "Come ooonn I was joking! Well...kinda. Honestly my dick has been lonely. I heard some horndogs going at it in a bathroom a while ago and I haven't been able to get it out of my mind."

You stop walking abruptly and whirl to him. "In the bathroom? The one in the library?"

Yeonjun's eyes light up, "Yeah! You heard it too?" You smile and laugh, "Well yeah I heard it. I was the one in the stall." Yeonjun's eyebrows go up in surprise, and he chuckles in disbelief. "Bullshit. Who was the lucky guy?" Rather than answering, you lift your hands to trail your fingers over his broad shoulders. He tenses for a second, then relaxes as your hands travel down to his navel. 

"How about I show you what I did huh? Wouldn't that be more fun?" Yeonjun smiles widely at your request and reciprocates your touches. He grabs two handfuls of your ass, pushing your body to be chest to chest with him. You can feel the heat that radiates off his body, the lust in eyes. This is what you need. Not some wimpy boy who eats his own cum on command. But a man who-

Another pair of hands yank you away from Yeonjun rather harshly. This person is bigger, thicker, but the way he's shaking is what catches your attention the most. Yeonjun reaches for you immediately, looking both confused and concerned. 

"Holy shit Kai? Is that you?" 

You freeze at Yeonjun's words. Then the body behind you begins to feel familiar, too familiar. You whip your head to see Kai's nervous expression. He doesn't even regard Yeonjun, instead locking eyes with you. There's no doubt in your mind that Kai is beyond terrified. Back in middle school, you and Yeonjun used to torment him. It wasn't until halfway through highschool that Yeonjun moved past bullying. 

"God damn it is. You look good man! I didn't even know you were going here, haha." For the first time in your life, you're thankful for Yeonjun's obliviousness. Kai's eyes shift to his for a brief second, "You too." There's no maliciousness in his voice, not even fear like you thought. He sounds worried, nervous, upset.

Oh.

The grip on your waist, the eye contact Kai maintains, his pained expression. It doesn't take a scientist to figure out why he's here embarrassing himself. Kai's jealous. He's jealous that you're here to fuck another man, that you've started ignoring him a few days ago. Though his hands are shaking, he's content with not letting you go. He’s so desperate you can't help but find it cute. 

It would be better to tell him to buzz off. You came here with the intention of putting no effort into your pleasure, but Kai's presence makes you ache for him. Like you miss him. It's a thought you shove far, far away into the depths of your mind. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to keep Kai for the night; he looks like he'd do anything to stay with you.

"Aw shit. Sorry Yeonjun. Me and Hyuka had something to do and I totally forgot. Bye." You don't stay to hear his complaints, instead grasping Kai's wrist and taking him to the other side of the house. Kai is silent as you both weave through the bodies of people. He doesn't say a peep when you open the door to the basement, closing it behind you two. 

Yeonjun and his frat brothers had a man-cave that was off limits to everybody. But being Yeonjun's 'special' friend gave you some perks. You made your way down the stairs to plop yourself on the couch. Kai stood awkwardly beside you, unsure of where to place himself.

When he does decide to sit next to you, you shake your head. "Nope. Here." You snap your fingers and point to the floor between your legs. Kai hesitantly approaches, getting on his knees in front of you. He looks perfect, like he belongs down there. 

You spread your legs open, hiking your dress above your waist to show yourself. Kai's eyes widen and he gulps, "I-this wasn't what I-" 

"You embarrassed me tonight Hyuka. Do you know that?" His expression turns guilty, a frown on his face as he nods. "You got in the way of me having fun. Acting like you're some boyfriend to me. Don't you think you owe me for ruining my night?" 

Kai glances at your clothed cunt then to your eyes. "I'm sorry," he speaks softly. His smooth voice makes you shiver with arousal. "Well," you look at him unimpressed. "Go ahead and show me how sorry you are." Kai's mouth opens to protest but you cut him off. "And don't give me that shit that you've never eaten pussy before. There has to be something you've learned from all that porn you watch."

He snaps his mouth shut and blushes. That's exactly what he was going to say, but it wasn't because he didn't want to. You've given Kai head countless times, and he's never had the opportunity to reciprocate. It wouldn't be unreasonable to say that he thinks about it, even dreams about it when he's away from you. There's nothing Kai wishes more than to taste your sweetness, he's just worried about his lack of experience. 

Still, you're laying yourself on a platter so nicely for him. He can see the outline of your clit through your thin underwear. Carefully, he uses his finger to trail your crevices. Kai's digit lightly drags up and down your pussy. You can’t help but twitch, your hips slightly jumping from the ghostly sensation. 

It's not necessarily confidence, but curiosity that makes him eager. Kai wants to know what makes you wet, what pulls the pretty moans from your throat, how your cream would taste on his tongue. He can feel the plushness of your lower lips. The wetness of your pussy sounds like music to his ears. 

His teasing touches get you restless. There's a part of you that tells you to wait, that Kai might get overwhelmed from his first time seeing a cunt. But the need in your gut and the way your hips keep thrusting upwards to hump his hand wins out in the end. 

You use one hand to pull your underwear to the side, shivering at the cold air. Kai's breath gets caught in his throat and his tongue pokes out to lick his lips. Your other hand reaches for your folds to spread them open. You softly hum at the intensity of Kai's stare, pulling at your pussy a little harsher. 

"You like it Hyuka? You ever seen a pussy this close before?" You sound a little breathless, but Kai finds that insanely attractive. "Never...it's beautiful." The warmth of his breath on your cunt makes you whimper. 

The compliment doesn't fail to give you little butterflies in your stomach. "Oh yeah? I think it tastes better than it looks." To prove your point, you use the hand that was stretching you open to collect your juices. Kai's eyes never leave your hand even as you place your fingers in your mouth, swirling your tongue around them. 

His Adam's apple bobs and his eyes twinkle like a kid seeing their favorite ice cream. You exaggeratedly moan as you taste yourself, "Your turn." Without waiting for Kai's response, you grip the back of his head and force him into your cunt.

There's no protesting or hesitation once his lips are on your aroused ones. He buries his face between your legs and his arms wrap around the underside on your thighs. Kai's a little too enthusiastic with his aggressive licks, but his little grunts make up for his lack of experience. 

He's never tasted anything so good. Kai was thinking that it might taste like his own cum but he could not be more wrong. Your flavor is a natural musk that has him straining in his pants already. If this is how you tasted all the time, Kai thinks there couldn't be a day where he wouldn't eat you out. 

His tongue flicks at your nub on occasion, but he seems to be focusing on your entrance instead. You keep a firm grip on the top of his head and guide him back up to your clitoris. "Here Hyuka. Don't make me tell you again." Kai nods at your order and centers at your sweet spot. 

You don't bother looking away from Kai. It might be a little too intimate to keep eye contact while he laps at your cunt, but you love seeing him so pliant. It's a huge power trip you've accepted when giving him head. It didn't matter who was on their knees, you both knew who was in control.

Kai was a quick learner. He figures out you really like when his nose brushes against your bud while his tongue lapps deeper into you. Your hips start grinding on his face, and his heart swells with pride. It feels good knowing Kai could do this to you. Even if you were mean to him, he still felt like he owed you this pleasure.

There's no way Kai's face is still dry after dragging it up and down your pussy. He doesn’t seem to care about how dirty he gets, only that you chased the high you've been neglecting yourself from. You don't care about how loud you're being either. Not that it matters anyway, the hollering from upstairs is enough to cover up your sounds. 

The first signs of your orgasm course through your body. Your legs tense around him and you throw your head back. "Ah~Hyuka, don't stop. Feels so good." Kai doubles down, knowing there’s no way he could get tired of your taste no matter how many times you came on his tongue.

Your cunt starts contracting around nothing, longing to be stuffed. You close your eyes and imagine how Kai's cock would fill you up so nicely. He might be pretty sloppy with his thrusts, but it would get the job done in making you cream around him. As much as you want him inside you, you know that you both would reach the point of no return if that happens. 

Your obsession would turn into something you don't think you're ready for. 

Instead, you'll have to settle for asking for his finger. He might struggle in the beginning, but he'll get the hang of it.

"Hyuka," you try and steady your voice. "Finger m-" You're cut short by footsteps descending the steps. Kai tries to rip himself from you, but you slam your thighs shut to keep him in place. He struggles for a second, but the feeling of your soft skin surrounding him pacifies him. 

Familiar orange hair peeps from the stairs as Yeonjun makes his way down. He looks at you surprised for a moment, then his eyes travel to the hostage between your legs. Being the dramatic person he is, Yeonjun jumps at the sight. "What's going on here?"

Kai stiffens at Yeonjun's voice, and he looks at you pleadingly. As if saying get him out of here please. You turn your attention back to Yeonjun and shrug, "Nothin'. I'm kinda busy right now." Rather than taking the cue and leaving, he goes down the remaining stairs and slowly walks over to you. He lifts his sunglasses to rest on his head, "Doesn't look like nothing. Who ya suffocating down there?"

Once something grabs Yeonjun's interest, it's practically impossible to get rid of him. There's nothing you can do other than watch Yeonjun plop himself on the couch beside you. He shows no shame in staring at Huening Kai between your legs. Yeonjun lets out a little chuckle, "So is this what you and Kai had to do?"

You nod, pushing the hair from Kai's face. His eyes have welled up with tears and his cheeks a bright pink. From oxygen deprivation or embarrassment, you aren't sure. 

Yeonjun's eyes never leave Kai's face, darting from your pussy and his wet face. "Well don't let me stop you, carry on," it's only amusement in Yeonjun's voice. 

You can feel your heart drumming in your chest, and the little trembles in Kai's hands. You've never tried to explore having sex in front of someone, but you'd be lying if you said it didn't intrigue you. The thought of Yeonjun's eyes and Kai's mouth on you is exhilarating, and you can feel your cunt throb in excitement. 

"You heard the man Hyuka. Go ahead." You spread your legs and allow Kai to take in a deep breath. He takes a few gulps of air before he shakes his head. "I can't." He speaks so softly, as if he would break if he said it any louder. 

One of your eyebrows raise from his refusal. It's been a while since Kai has denied you, and you don't really have the time to play into it right now. You were torn from your orgasm minutes ago, your high was still nestling in your stomach waiting to be released. 

"You can't?" You question. "What do you mean you can't?"

Kai doesn't answer you, insistent on shaking his head as his response. You groan and roll your eyes, I don't have time for this bullshit.

"Yeonjun," you call to the man beside you. "You'll eat my pussy won't you?" Before Yeonjun has the opportunity to respond, Kai immediately begins to protest. "Wait! I can do it. I can, I'm sorry." His eyes lock with yours, pleading. His quick obedience makes you shiver, and you involuntarily open your legs a little wider. 

"You keep saying you're sorry, but I dunno if you mean it," you tsk. "We have a guest Hyuka, it's rude to keep him waiting."

"I am sorry! I didn't mean it." His words are mumbled as Kai places his lips back on your core. You hum at the warmth of his mouth, lifting your hips up to chase the heat. 

Kai isn't as aggressive, most likely nervous from having a one-man audience. But his slower licks make that heat in your belly begin to gently rise once again. His tongue travels into your hole to collect your wetness and bring it back up to your clit. You moan at the flick of his tongue against your nub.

Yeonjun lifts your dress higher and spills your tits from your bra. Your hazy eyes look into his and he licks his lips hungrily. The tension in his jeans gets the better of him, and he unbuckles his belt to relieve himself. 

The jingling sound makes Kai peek over at Yeonjun, and there's a slight panic in his eyes. You notice this quickly, and cradle his face in your palm. Kai's gaze turns to yours, and you can see the ease quickly return back. The obvious effect you have on him makes your chest tighten, and you pray it's just because you're turned on.

Yeonjun grips himself and starts pumping his cock. Curses and groans leave his lips as he pleasures himself. The sight of Kai burying his face deep into you leaves Yeonjun yearning to not only spectate, but somehow get a taste of you too.

With one hand steady on Kai, you use your other to play with your exposed breasts. You tug and twist your nipples, jolting in Kai's mouth. Though it's getting difficult to keep your pussy in his hold, Kai finds his confidence to harshly suck on your cunt.

You cry out and try to escape his hot tongue, but his grip on you is firm. The stimulation is borderline painful, but the way you're flooding in his mouth is anything but. 

"Oh fuck" Yeonjun's voice startles you for a second, forgetting his presence. His cock is completely hard, his tip swollen red. "That's a good little fuck toy you got there. Listens to every word you say. A good boy huh?"

A lazy smile finds your face as you nod. "Yeah, he is a good~oh shit... good boy. The best boy...isn't that right Hyuka?"

Your praise makes Kai's heart swell, and he happily nods and moans at your words. The movement of his head makes his nose brush against your clit, and you flinch. 

Chillsbegin to spread throughout your body. Your moans are getting more frequent, the thrusting in your hips more erratic. Kai's head has begun to hurt from how hard you're gripping his hair, but he's still determined to make you finish. 

"Don't stop. Hyuka I'm gonna cum–," you whine. 

Stopping was the last thing Kai wanted to do, and he started wondering why he even hesitated when Yeonjun walked in. He was nervous at first, feeling like he couldn't compare to someone who has obviously slept around a lot more. But seeing your reaction and Yeonjun’s enjoyment builds up his self-assurance. 

"Shit, I'mma cum too," Yeonjun's slick hands play with his tip. You bite your lower lip and harshly grab the back of Kai's head. 

"Stick your tongue out." Kai obeys you immediately, letting you ride his face like a dildo as you reach the beginnings of your orgasm. Your hips stutter and your moans are choked when you cum. You squeeze your tit as your body tightens. Yeonjun's nearby moans coax your orgasm longer, making your legs tremble. 

Kai's face is completely soiled in your juices, making it easier for your pussy to grind on his face. His head follows your movements easily, not wanting to miss a second of tasting your cum. 

His imagination is nothing compared to what you taste like. 

He keeps licking you even when your hips have collapsed back on the couch. Kai shows no signs of stopping even as your moans turn into gasps. 

Yeonjun doesn't think he can take much longer, and he stands so his cock hovers over your pussy and Kai's head. The change in movement makes you focus your attention on the very close Yeonjun, and you yank Kai's head back. 

A loud smack sound echos in the room when Kai is pulled away from your sensitive cunt. He looks at you as if he's going to complain, but the loud groaning of Yeonjun makes him shut up. 

"Go ahead and come on me Yeonjun. Right here." The hand that was playing with your boobs comes down to spread your lower lips open. You avoid your nub while you rub yourself, still too delicate to be touched.

"On my favorite pussy." It's the last coherent sentence Yeonjun says when he cums. His hot spurts land on your lower stomach, your pussy, and the inner parts of your thighs. His thighs shake and he throws his head back as he continues pumping himself. You smear his arousal over your pelvis, bringing a finger to your tongue for a taste. 

You moaned around your digit, "Mmm, so much for me."

Kai does nothing but watch as another man defiles you. The jealousy is strong in his body, he can feel the heaviness in his chest. Still, you keep your eyes on Kai. He can see the mischievousness and teasing behind them, and for some reason he feels like you enjoy his envy. 

Once Yeonjun comes down from his high, he finally notices the mess on your cunt. "Hold on, lemme get you a towel." 

"That won't be necessary. You know what to do Hyuka." There's no resistance in his eyes when Kai sticks his tongue out to clean you up. You can practically feel Yeonjun's jaw drop, disbelief in his features. 

"No shit."

Kai's hot tongue promptly licks you up, collecting Yeonjun's cum. You can see Kai scrunch his nose up at the taste, making you giggle. His mouth travels to your stomach, your thighs, and your pussy as he wipes any trace of arousal from you.

"I've trained him well huh? Little puppy just for me," you hum when Kai rolls your bud gently over his tongue. 

"This is my favorite part," you say giddily once Kai has collected all the cum in his mouth. 

Kai opens his mouth to reveal the white release he's gathered. His eyes sting from the unfamiliar saltiness, but he keeps his tongue out to show you and Yeonjun his hard work. You purr at the sight, sitting up to grab a hold on Kai's face.

You squeeze his cheeks together and force his head to face Yeonjun who's gaping at the sight. 

"Swallow."

Unable to keep his eyes open, Kai swallows thickly. You can hear Yeonjun groan at the sight, his soft dick twitching. 

You give a few gentle slaps to Kai's face and peck his cheek. "That's my good boy~"

a/n: here's the 2nd part to the huening kai series! I hope ya'll like it! no idea what I'd do for the 3rd part, lmao proofreader/editor: @then-make-me (thank you!!)

update: third part here

[loganwalkerz]

Please I’m begging for just a CRUMB of Keegan

Maybe he catches reader looking at his eyes? Because why wouldn’t they? Theyre just so pretty, like Opal. He’s so smug about catching reader oogling at him!

So sorry for answering this late!! Hope it's okay for you!<3

Keegan who knows how pretty his eyes are and he definitely puts it to his favour. He wants something? He'll flash those pretty opal eyes and give a slight pout knowing everyone's falling for it.

But when does he meet you? God, he really puts extra effort in. He usually wears some sort of shades, but when you come around, they are THROWN away, and he will give you a wink to watch you get flustered. And if he is feeling extra bold he'll walk over, lean against the wall you are near and lean down to your height

"Whatcha starin at? Something on my face?"

He'll comment in a faux innocent tone as you try stutter with excuses, he knows he's pretty and he think you are just as pretty. He'll make a few teasing comments with it too

"Ya know, me and you? We could be models if it wasn't for this mess."

He gestures to some files about the federation, Logans still missing and despite the fact Keegan does miss him he knows his friend wouldn't mind him flirting for a wee bit on the break

"What you think? Us on the runway. On magazines. Where we belong."

Keegan will rub a finger along your jaw staring down at your body admiring your figure, watching the way you melt under his touch and that's when Keegan realises that YOU have just as pretty eyes. Biting his lip at the lovesick puppy look you're giving as a quiet "Ah fuck..". As he realises he's just fallen extra hard for you.

You may of fallen first but this bastard fell a lot harder as he can't help but go red in the cheeks. Not knowing wether to take you as completion or take you as his partner. Probably the second one with the way his hands are grabbing your hips

[lucaaazd]

Snippet of a (not so) little Aruani story I’ve been working on. I love it so much and it’s helped me through some real trying times. Don’t have an ao3 account yet so thought I’d share a chapter on here :)

Premise: A decade after the Rumbling, Armin and Mikasa share a rare moment away from their families in the shade of their childhood tree. Armin opens up about his struggles to connect with one of his children, which leads him down a path of remembrance and reflection.

Ships: primarily Aruani, but a lottttt of other ships get a cameo as well. Eremika, Jeankasa, Jeanpiku, Mikannie, Reijean & more !

TW: (just in this chapter) mentions of abuse

Canon-compliant 💚

“

Life happens.

Annie told him not to worry. She told him how years of physical and emotional abuse, compounded by the multitude of medical experiments Marley conducted on her had likely rendered her infertile.

Looking back, Armin realized he wanted to believe her more than he really did. Why risk it? It’s not like him. He’d read books about the human body and its resilient, unpredictable nature, especially when it comes to the uterus. He remembered flipping through some vividly illustrated pages fervorously at the ripe age of twelve when the librarian with the broken nose caught him, threatening to tie him up for the bit of inappropriate reading he’s doing. The town of Liana, an idle green village tucked away in the thickets of elms and cedars native to Northwestern Wall Rose, wasn’t exactly sizable. Armin often sought shelter in the only library in an hour’s horse ride, which was affiliated with the prestigious Askatu Institute of Science and Liberal Arts. He might have even gone to college if not for what happened to their hometown. Gran was already gone. No one cared if he read a couple books he’s too young for.

Still, ten years later, he’d let Annie lead him into those dark, unused train cars at the wee hours of dawn, words like fallopian tubes and ovulation burnt into his retina. How lame. Was he supposed to be thinking of those when the hand around his was soft and warm and he could feel the urgency in the way it squeezed and tugged him?

Armin's one of those boys who didn’t hit that growth spurt till about 15, with tiny prepubescent shoulders and a squeaky voice that stayed that way when everyone else was going through changes. Annie on the other hand - pretty much everyone had found themselves stealing glances at her at one point or another when they were kids, including Armin. There’s things he’d never even told Mikasa or Eren, including the time when he took it one step too far.

It was way before they became soldiers. He was eleven. He didn’t even know her name. All he knew was that she was an orphan with no one looking out for her. He just wanted to make sure she’s okay.

At least that’s what he told himself.

Him and Annie had reached the unspoken agreement of feigned forgetfulness regarding their encounters, if you could even call them that, back in those days.

One of the first nights after their enlistment, some dude made a tipsy remark along the lines of: “What’s her name again? Elaine? Right, Annie. Annie’s just cool man. There’s just something cool about her.” There was always a lot going on in the mess hall due to certain recruits still getting the hang of respectful communal living, but that comment in particular stood out against the rest. In all the wolf whistles, laughter and murmurs of agreement that ensued, Armin kept his mouth shut. He was kinda hoping they were talking about some other Annie. Come to think of it, he’s not even sure her name was Annie. It definitely wasn’t Elaine. She’d talked maybe twice since their first day and when she did, she was quiet like a mouse.

He couldn’t even remember that dude’s name or face now. He had a feeling he never figured out what exactly was cool about Annie. Probably squashed under her foot like a fly in Stohess. Soldiers from all three factions, including a lot of their fellow cadets, perished that day.

Still, a good number of well-intentioned admirers refused to believe Annie was a cold-blooded mass murderer long after her cover was blown. The rest harbored a justifiable burning hatred towards her based on the conclusion that she’s an insane, sadistic psycho bitch who deserved to get cut up slowly.

Armin knew for a fact that Annie herself leaned towards the second theory, no matter how much she tried to make it seem otherwise. He knew that since the day he watched her hungrily from his hiding spot behind a willow tree as a child, wonder decaying into horror when he realized what she was doing. He knew when she broke down into a manic fit of laughter at the mouth of the underground passageway he had hoped to lure her into. His initial trepidation bubbled into anger, then disgust, then a burning desire to see her bonded and gagged and find out exactly what lay behind those hollow, listless pupils. Her story, one he pieced together with what little could be extracted from her obstinate silence, was punctuated with way too many contradictions for one cohesive meaning to be teased out.

The art of deceiving was not a specialty of hers, hence the muteness. In that way and many other ways, she’s not at all like Reiner or Bertolt, who spewed out lie after lie with all the ingredients of a good story, combining fair quantities of truth and well-phrased speculation with a sprinkling of theatrical alterations to stir the flavors. It took Armin hours of studying Annie’s unresponsive form in the crystal, opening up time and unrolling it to its full length so that he could single out a quiet scoff, the clenching of a fist, replaying the moment frame by frame for signs of mental fissure or psychosomaticism. He kept descending the stairs to the basement where she was held captive, long after spectators’ footsteps grew farther and fewer in between and eventually diminished to the echo of one lone pair of boots, his own.

.”

This chapter is very stream of consciousness but I promise it’s not all gonna be like this 😭 anyways, if u made it this far, cheers and have a good day 💚

Luca 💚

[riddle-me-ri]

FLUFFY PROMPTS MY BELOVED

“aw, sweetheart you know you don’t have to ask…come here.” and “you are the human embodiment of sunshine, you know that?” with One Bad Day Ozzie and female reader, pretty please!

- Timid Anon 🐁

a/n: ugghhh, my wee heart. Those quotes suit this Ozzie perfectly! Thank you for the splendid idea sweet and wonderful timid anon 💜

Content Warning: None just some fluffiness

Word Count: 722

One Bad Day Penguin x F!Reader - Sweet Sunshine

The night was thriving as the late night transitioned into early morning. 

You were so preoccupied tending to the waiters and performers, that you hadn’t seen Oswald all night. 

Although, with a night like tonight, you had no doubt he was in the midst of some lucrative discussions. 

You just wish you had the slightest of inkling of when to intrude to go talk to him. 

Speaking of the devil, you heard his all too familiar hearty laugh on the other side of the large room. 

You couldn’t help but smile at the sound. 

Maybe that was the sign you needed. 

You swung by the bar and grabbed you and Oswald your favorite drinks before making your way over to his table.

Oswald’s face instantly light up as he saw you walking up to the table. 

“Ah, there she is! Light of my life!” Oswald announced, as he lifted his arm to bring the attention towards you. 

“Ozzie…” You rolled your eyes incredulously as you walked up to his side. 

The few men that surround the table offered gentle smiles and nods toward you. 

“Aw, thanks sweetness.” Oz said as you replaced his empty glass with the full one you brought with you. 

“Is it all right if I join you, Oz?” You asked as Oz kissed the back of your hand. 

“Aw, sweetheart you know you don’t have to ask…” Oswald patted the top of his knee. “Come here.”

You giggled nervously as you darted your eyes from Oz to the small company he had around the table. 

Regardless, you couldn’t say no to Oswald no matter how shy you were. You couldn’t lie it was pretty satisfying to be able to do as you pleased because you were Oswald’s partner. 

Especially when word got out about how he got the club back from The Umbrella Man…

Yeah, nobody messed with the Penguin…they sure as hell weren’t going to mess with you. 

Keeping that in mind, you fought through the nerves and made yourself comfortable sitting sideways in Oswald’s lap. 

As if on instinct, Oz’s hand instantly rested on the top of your knees and an arm went around your waist to keep you propped up. 

One of the men stood and the others followed. 

The man who stood up first nodded. “It’s nice to have you back, Oz. Look forward to business as usual.”

Oz nodded. “Glad to be back, I’ll keep in touch.” 

The man nodded and with that the men left, finally leaving the two of you alone at the table. 

"Finally, I got you all to myself." Oz sighed before he nuzzled his head into the space between your neck and shoulder.

You giggled as his warm breath and the top of his nose tickled your sensitive skin, but you didn't dare pull away as one of your arms wrapped around his neck. 

"I can say the same thing. I missed you all night!" You said. 

"I missed you too, sweetness, how is everything going tonight?" 

You beamed proudly. "Fairly smoothly, only had some minor outfit malfunctions and one rowdy customer but all in all not bad." 

Oswald hummed satisfied before leaning in to kiss your cheek. "I couldn't ask for a better second hand." 

He kissed along your temple, cheek, and neck. Your skin flushed a soft pink shade as you giggled some more. "I'm just glad to help, Ozzie." 

"And I appreciate your help, sweetness. All of it." 

You framed your hands around his soft and round face so you could properly look at him. You kissed the tip of his nose sweetly, which caused Oz to chuckle. 

"You're the human embodiment of sunshine, you know that? No matter what kinda day I'm having. You always brighten it with your sweetness."

Your heart swelled, you didn't expect to be godmacked by such a sweet compliment. 

Unsure of how to respond, you opted to act on the rush of emotion and leaned in to kiss him. 

You slowly pulled away, still smiling widely. "You call me sweetness, but that has to be the sweetest thing anyone has ever told me." 

Oswald smiled. "And it's one hundred percent true." 

Oz truly couldn't be happier. 

He has his club back, he's regained old allies he thought he may have lost…

Most importantly he had you. 

His sweet sunshine. 

[foosybit]

Mayoi in PriPara Outfits Part 2

This is another suuuuuuper long post of me messing around with what pripara fits mayoi might wear ! If you're somehow here without coming from part 1 (since i wont really be tagging this so uhhh hi somehow ?) here should be a link to part 1 and also part 3 (which i'll also link at the end dont worry abt having to scroll back up)

u'll be seeing way more solos from now on so get used to little mr placeholder for me please he's working really hard to keep society together

Lovey Dovey Valentine from Holic Trick !! most of these will be from holic trick again unless stated otherwise ! I saw this and had a clear vision of what i wanted and i saw that through and could not be happier, I love this one's original dress design so dam much

British Gentle !! whats up stupid pants (affectionate) how are we feeling, only one version cuz the original already has shorts :] i didn't know how to feel about the wavy edges at first but they're kinda growing on me the more i look at them u kno, another very 3star outfit, mayoi only plopped in there so he can have a good time (debatable)

Star Marine Cool !! the small ass hat is so funny why is it so small !!!!! her head is not covered !!!!!!! no ones getting any shade in this situation !!!!!! so i made the dam hat bigger when i let myself alter the fit for the more masc vers and also gave him a whole wetsuit beneath cuz idk he strikes me as a wet suit kinda guy. when's the kanata 5star mayoi 4star wetsuit theme scout gonna come out it's gotta be in the happyele drafts somewhere for the far future. also felt bad for the no shade so i made a wee version of the original outfit but with a bigger hat

now he can splish splash in peace yippee !!

Classic Heart !! another one i had a clear vision for and am glad i could see it through. i luvv open backs i think it's only a matter of time before mayoi gets an open back outfit speaking of cool back designs i was killed and maimed and died when i saw the flower detail on the back of the vermilion outfit i never recovered i live for pretty back designs someone save me, anyway he's also kinda peacock with the suit tail too since it's already a behind-heavy design, what a pretty bird mayoi is

Mysterious Witch !! I told myself i'd come back to it at some point but could never think of how to pantsify that fit so he can just prance around in the dress 4ever :]

PriPara Nurse Peace !! Mayoi gets a little sophy ahoge for the occasion cuz it's so cute with the little hat it's so necessary to the outfit, and then also theres an orange and yellow version that leona wears trust me non-priparers it's true so i couldn't resist ninja associationing it up

what cute nurses they r so helpful !!!!

Piercing Purple !! the original patterning was a little too pop imo so i took inspo from his recent illusion outfit for the patterning :]

Bunny Magician !! hi tatsumi !!!!! kinda combined the second version into the first image thanks to babygirl tatsumi hallelujah

that's it for part 2, here's links to part 1 and part 3 !!

[eviesessays]

40. What simple pleasures of life do you truly enjoy?

One of the greatest pleasures in life that I enjoyed for many years was travelling.  Now, at my advanced age I am too old, decrepit and compromised to be so adventuresome.  Changing planes in foreign airports terrifies me now.  Dealing with foreign currency was made  easier with the advent of the euro but still challenging.  Making myself understood with little command of the language spoken gave me moments of anxiety if not exasperation.  These days I have no such concerns.  My simple pleasure requires none of the aforementioned risks and is a pleasure I have enjoyed for many years and continue to enjoy.

I love gardening.  My home on Mountain Road has many trees and therefore much shade.  Gardening is a challenge.  My garden is confined to flowers.  there is inadequate sun   for growing vegetables.  I can garden for hours on my knees without worrying about falling due to my Parkinson’s.  

I bought the house on a cold January day.  A significant part of the yard was unkempt.  The previous owners said they used this section as a duping place for their used Christmas trees. The weeds and grass were adequate to hide most of the mess.  Many trees in this area were dead and Peter took them all down for me.  He cut them into twelve to fourteen inch pieces and with them I built a wall that separates the back lawn from the wooded area of the lot.  I bought a leaf shredder and began to attack the years of accumulated leaves, weeds and branches.

I have flower beds that separate the lawn from the treed area at the back and side of the lot.  The one thing I grow very successfully is moss but it is green and serves its purpose,

I have an eclectic garden where  i remember friends and family.  I have Rose of Sharon shrubs that came from Heather’s house on Carter Street.  They are prolific seeders and I have started shrubs for my neighbors and my granddaughter, Anne.  My wonderful neighbor, MaryJane gave me an aubergine clematis when my brother Carl died.  It is beautiful and climbs a trellis in front of the sun porch.  I brought two trellises with me from the Warner house and they are now covered with pink rambling roses given to me by a friend from the East Concord Garden Club to which  I had belonged.  Surrounding the base of a large oak and a maple tree is the pachysandra given to me by my elderly neighbor across the street, Mr Colby. All the forsythia was also gifts from his garden. He knew more Concord history than anyone else I knew and was glad to share it.  Once when I was out working in the garden he came over and we chatted a while.  He then said words I have quoted many times.  He said,”My Daddy once told me that if you have nothing to do, don’t go around bothering someone who does.”  He was a wonderful neighbor and I miss his sage stories and kind demeanor. 

On one of their visits from Scotland, my children’s cousin, Maurice and his wife Avril brought lily bulbs from his grandmother’s garden.  They were first planted in Warner and when my house was sold they were dug up and moved to Heather’s garden.  When Heather and John were moving to South Carolina, the lilies were dug up again and moved here. They had two good years and then were attacked by moles or voles or one of the many creatures that raise havoc with bulbs in this area.  Last year I was down to one rather sickly plant and I wait with baited breath to see if one wee shoot might appear.  

I have a red maple from Jaylyn’s yard in Harvard.  It thrives.  I have another that Will brought for my birthday  a few years ago.  It thrives.  A lavender azalea bush came with the house and is very visible from my kitchen window.  In summer the perennials will give color to the garden.  There are daisies in several places in the gardens.  The mullen pinks add vibrant color here and there.  The seeds of those were given to me more than twenty years ago my my coworker, Maggie.  This winter I am trying to winter over some fushia colored geraniums.  I hope I succeed.  The daffodils will be appearing soon along with the hyacinths and then the  tulips, not eaten will appear.  The Asian irises will come later.  My Stella Dora lilies will bloom in great profusion and remind me they need to be thinned.  

I cannot leave this subject without mentioning the garden on Wellington Street where I lived from the age of five til I went away to school at age seventeen.  We had a large vegetable garden in the back yard.  The green beans and wax beans had been   harvested and canned.  Every year when the potatoes were dug we had a potato roast.  My Dad set fire to the garden remnants and we were allowed to throw in the potatoes that were too small to be worth peeling.  The neighbor kids joined us for our annual potato roast.  We searched and found potatoes that we stabbed, added butter and salt and reveled in our annual feast.

I have no potatoes in this garden but I love gardening.  Maybe, I just love playing in the dirt.  One thing I do know is that my garden is where my heart soars and my spirit rests.

[wullu]

I finish the movie, wohoo for me!

Here's what I liked about it:

Ma Dong Seok smacking the shit out of everyone with one swing of his palm

Ma Dong Seok making jokes but also being so susceptible to flattery. Like flattery will get you every where with the man

Ma Dong Seok being all tender and sweet with the youngins, especially the wee restaurant boy.

The absolute comedy of knife-wielding, stabby-feeling gangsters showing up on a scooty to a gang fight

Things I did not like but have an opinion about all the same:

Some budget they should have put for Yoon Kye Sang's wig also. Whats the point of giving the man a grotty wig that he cannot even tie-up properly? Like it was giving messy-bun vibes that you get after a long day of scrubbing toilets, not messed up hair from indiscriminate stabbiness.

The absolutely audacity of gents to punish women for things they do. Or just punishing women in general. But also, jokes on me if I am expecting nuanced takes on misogyny in what is an essentially a love letter to violence with liberal sprinkles of homo-eroticism

Have I mentioned Yoon Kye Sang's wig? Cause it honestly took me out of a few scenes, as you can clearly see where the wig ends and the lack of makeup/shading that would helped it blend in better. You can get good wigs and still retain that unwashed stringiness vibe.

[mjolnir-steve]

I Want Your Midnights

Jake Jensen x fem!reader

Word count: 1926

Summary: Jake has been your best friend since first grade, and as is tradition, you're spending New Year’s Eve together. This time, Jake’s throwing a party at his new apartment. You share feelings, but not timing.

Warnings: straight-up angst, hints of fluff to ease the pain, mentions of legal alcohol consumption

Author’s note: This is a little bit of backstory for Hack the Halls, what I thought would be a one-shot. I received some amazing feedback on it, though, and I want to try my hand at a series if folks are interested and I feel inspired. I think this can be read as a standalone, but if you’re reading it alongside HTH, this takes place one year before. Thank you (again) to Iva (@beefybuckrrito) for beta-reading this for me, helping me make decisions when I stalled myself, and getting me through the blocks I had along the way. 🥰

The title and some story elements are from “New Year’s Day” by Taylor Swift (lyrics | song), one of my all-time favorite songs. This time of year is always difficult for me for a number of reasons, so channeling some of those emotions into this story was extremely cathartic and served to help me begin building a world for these two cuties.

As always, likes, comments, and reblogs are so appreciated. I’d love to hear your thoughts on this and to know if you’d like to see more of them!

I hope everyone has a happy, healthy, safe, and UNEVENTFUL (lol) 2022! Happy New Year, friends. 💙

This is dedicated to @syntheticavenger, the shining star whose amazing work and 5K Challenge played such a major role in getting me to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard lol) again. Taking the leap and writing/sharing stories again changed my life immensely, and I look forward to what this year will bring. I hope you’ll check out Synth’s work immediately.

Around 5 AM, you thought you’d scraped the last of the candle wax off of the floor, ready to take a nap before heading to Jake’s sister Franny’s house for New Year’s brunch. Why Jake thought trusting a bunch of inebriated adults with lit candles and sparklers inside his new apartment was a good idea, you could never be sure. But he did, and now here you were, cleaning up the mess from his first-ever “Petun-Year’s Eve” party while he took a quick shower to rinse off the glitter and champagne.

-

Yes, your grown-ass best friend of over 20 years threw a holiday soirée with a theme honoring his niece Rebecca’s pee-wee soccer team, even though she wasn’t invited herself. Guests were required to wear something pink, or else they would be “denied access”... That didn’t stop Pooch, Clay, and Cougar from walking right past Jake at the door. Aisha conceded to Jake’s rule in her own way, opting to wear a deep shade of pink lipstick with her all-black clothing. Even though you had a perfectly nice outfit picked out, Jake pleasepleasepleased until you agreed to wear a Petunias home jersey, matching with him in dark jeans and the new sneakers he bought you for Christmas.

The new year’s celebration looked more like a little girl’s birthday party, the living and dining rooms decked out in sparkly pink and purple decorations and dinnerware. Your best friend was silly and a little too carefree sometimes, but those were some things you loved most about him. He didn’t care about conventional ideas of fun, unashamedly and wholeheartedly liking what he liked and not letting anyone tell him he couldn’t.

Unfortunately for you, these qualities (and his biceps) also caught the eye of his neighbor, Ally. He invited her at the last minute while making small talk in the elevator, and though you would never admit it, it made you see green. She didn’t show up when the party started at 7, so you enjoyed yourself with Jake and his coworkers, making use of the Polaroid camera you’d gifted him and playing amateur bartender.

You’d spent New Year’s Eve with Jake and his family since you were kids, and it became tradition that you kissed each other on the cheek at midnight, even though you eventually found yourself wishing one of you would “accidentally” not turn your head. The thought of telling him briefly crossed your mind, but was interrupted by the tiny blonde from the sixth floor arriving at 11 PM.

She seemed nice enough, but after introducing herself to the other guests, she immediately clung to Jake, flipping her hair and laughing a little too much when he spoke. He didn’t seem any more or less interested in her than anyone else, ever the crowd-pleaser as he explained the theme of the party and gushed about his niece. You couldn’t blame her, could you? He wasn’t yours and you weren’t his, and this was another ill-timed reminder.

You maintained conversation, laughing when appropriate and asking about her life. If your stomach weren’t turning at the innocent smile Jake gave her, you might have even liked her. Might.

At 11:59 PM, your friends lit sparklers (idiots) and began counting down. You walked across the room towards Jake, having wiped off your lip gloss because he disliked the feel of it on his skin.

3… 2… 1…

You froze in place when Ally lifted the Polaroid camera, snapping what would’ve been a cute selfie of her kissing Jake if seeing it didn’t make your bottom lip quiver. You shook your head and rolled your shoulders, backing away so you could get a grip and grab one of the mini bottles of champagne from the ice bucket. Noisemakers went off entirely too close to your ears as you walked down the hallway, ducking into Jake’s bedroom and climbing out onto the fire escape for fresh air, half-empty bottle in hand.

When Ally pulled away from him, you were the first person Jake searched for, his eyes landing on the back of your jersey as you tried to slink away unnoticed. Shit, he thought, knowing he had to fix this somehow and fast.

“Thank you so much for coming, Ally! It’s actually past my bedtime, so I’m gonna go and put pajamas on… Yeah, um… I’ll see you around.” Jake pointed finger guns at her before vaulting over the back of the couch to chase after you, leaving Ally confused as all hell until Aisha pulled her up to dance.

Jake found you on the fire escape, legs dangling over the edge and sipping your champagne while you watched the fireworks display over the Harbor.

“Bub, did you forget something?” He smiled, sitting down next to you.

“I remembered just fine, Jensen. You were preoccupied.” You took another swig from the bottle.

Jake frowned when you called him by his last name, something you only did when you were fed up with his shit. “It’s only 12:03. Can we institute a five-minute rule?”

You exhaled, knowing you couldn’t argue with him without making your jealousy and possessiveness painfully clear. He was looking at you like a kicked puppy, and you knew your therapist was not going to love hearing about how quickly you caved… if you decided to tell her.

“How about instead of a rule, we just make up for it now and try not to miss it again?” You held out your hand to shake on it, but he grabbed your shoulders turning you to face him, promptly kissing each cheek twice.

“One for the original, plus one for each minute I was late. Happy New Year, Y/N.” He smiled at you and your heart clenched, but you knew you had to play it cool, as if he weren’t the most adorable being you’d ever come into contact with. You brushed your lips softly against his cheek before standing up, downing the rest of your champagne, and climbing back into the bedroom.

“I’m gonna start putting the leftovers away, okay? I’ll see ya out there.”

Jake stared after you, wondering if he was imagining the tinge of envy to your tone, unsure if there was anything he could do to make things right when he wasn’t quite sure where he went wrong.

-

You heard the shower turn off and pinched your cheeks, trying and failing to snap yourself out of the funk you’d let yourself sink into. You didn’t know it, but Jake was doing the same in front of his fogged-up bathroom mirror, working a small amount of gel into his hair as he reviewed the events of the night.

Franny asked you to take a picture of the two of them together, giggling and nearly spilling her vodka soda as she played with your hair and said she only trusted you to get the best angle. He smiled to himself, watching you fix his sister’s hair for her before allowing them to pose. He picked her up, squeezing her tight as she laughed and begged to be put down.

After the three of you took a group picture, Clay called Jake over to make a call for the seemingly never-ending game of Uno. As his guests argued the rules about the +4 card, he zoned out, making heart eyes at you across the room while you laughed with Franny as you contemplated your poses.

“Dude, are you listening?” Clay plucked Jake’s glasses off of his face when he still didn’t respond.

“Come on, I’m busy,” Jake whined, snatching his glasses back and putting them on in time to see you smile wide, eyes closed and fingers held up in a peace sign.

Clay threw his arm around Jake’s shoulder, walking him over to the far corner of the room. “Will you just tell her, Jensen? This is becoming painful to watch. Kiss her at midnight. If she reciprocates, great. If she doesn’t, say you’re drunk and I dared you.”

Jake’s eyes widened, weighing his options. “Do you think that’ll work? God, yeah, okay. I think it’ll be fine.”

But when the countdown started, he couldn’t find you in the packed apartment, and he only caught sight of you right before Ally crashed her lips to his, ruining his plan.

Maybe next year.

-

The only thing left to do was sort the Polaroids since Jake decided the glitter was now simply a part of the hardwood, always popping up again “like a cold sore,” never fully gone. You flipped through the photos, making piles so you could give everyone copies. You smiled at all the group shots of Jake and “The Losers,” as they called themselves, choosing to let them each pick the ones they wanted. There were several pictures of Jake and his sister, you and his sister, and the three of you together. You outright laughed at some photos of your work friends, evidently out of their minds during a game of Uno with the other guests.

As if confirming your life was just a sitcom for whatever being was watching the big TV in the sky, the last two photos were of you and Jake… and then Ally and Jake. They do look cute together, you thought to yourself, tossing both photos on the table and calling it quits.

You were in the middle of making a pot of coffee when Jake emerged from the bedroom in yet another Petunias shirt (the away jersey now) and a pair of joggers. He took over, pouring two small cups and fixing yours exactly how you liked it before handing it to you and taking a seat at the table where the snapshots lay.

“That’s a cute picture of you, and um, Ally. Good idea.” You took a sip from your mug, internally smacking yourself. Idiot.

He choked a little, wiping his mouth with a purple paper napkin. “Eh. I guess it’d be cute if I liked her like that. I was just trying to make a new friend.” He shrugged, picking the picture up and folding it into a grossly disproportionate plane before aiming for the trash can in the corner, narrowly missing. “This is why I stick to computers.”

He stood and walked over to pick up the little plane and place it in the trash can, leaning over to kiss you on the cheek on the way back to his seat. “Did you change your face wipes?:

Your face warmed at his questions. “Uh, yeah. You said the other ones made my face ‘taste funny,’ so…” You hid your grimace behind your mug.

He hummed, sounding pleased. “Well, thank you for helping me with the party, I always wanted to do something like that, and I couldn’t have done it without you.” He grinned when the Polaroid of the two of you caught his eye, your arms wrapped around him from behind, kissing his cheek as he laughed, his glasses slightly crooked. “This might be my favorite picture of us we’ve ever taken, bubba.”

You gave him a soft smile in return. “You’ll have to make a copy for me. I like that one, too.”

“I know exactly where this is going.” He ran to his bedroom, placing a small piece of double-sided tape on the back and leaning it against the lamp on his nightstand, facing his preferred side.

I wish I knew where this was going, you thought to yourself, deciding your New Year’s resolution might just have to be finally letting go of your feelings for your best friend.

[mochie85]

If You Let Me

Chapter 25 of my Mayari series.

Mayari Masterlist | Complete Masterlist

Summary: You show Loki just how much you appreciate him. A/N: This entire series is inspired by songs. The complete playlist can be found here on Spotify. I realized that some of the chapters in this series can be read as a stand-alone. It is character-driven, so a lot of the plot/action sequences help but do not detract from the relationship. Pairing: Loki x Original Female Character/Reader Word Count: Over 3.6k Warnings: Smut. Oral (male receiving), edging (delayed gratification), light dom/sub play, some fluff in the beginning.

The rest of the week flew by quickly. Too quickly. The long polar nights messed with your internal clock. There were a few hours of sunlight, but it rose and set so early, that it made it hard for you to tell whether it was just afternoon or actual night. Time seemed to fly by without respect to your jet lag or your inner circadian rhythm.

You wanted to keep yourself busy and not get in Loki’s way. You had taken it upon yourself to cook for the entire team during your stay. The brothers did have a royal cook, Bridgit. She was used to only having Val or Meek to cook for, and on occasion, the brothers when they were home. But not the entire Avengers Team.

You ended up helping cook breakfast; make lunch for the team; and help with dinner. Bridgit was beyond grateful for the extra hand. So daytime, or at least the hours between nine to six, was reserved for planning and cooking for the team.

The hours after were saved for you and Loki. After dinner with the team, he would show you around town. He was excited to show you the plans they had for the village. In a span of ten years, they had accomplished so much, even with The Blip. The town grew with a proper village square, a marketplace, The Langhus, and barracks for when the Einherjar train.

Sometimes he would take you out of the city to show you the wildlands. One particular night, you both stayed out well past the wee hours of the morning, just watching the auroras. He made a half tent to shield you both from the wind as you both sat on a heated blanket watching the lights dance in the sky. This was your favorite thing to do- spending some quiet time with your love, in his arms. He was not a prince. You were not a goddess. Neither of you were Avengers. You were just two people in love with each other. And that was enough.

Loki had been busy the whole time. Plans were underway to get the Yuletide celebrations going. It was a tight timespan as the Winter Solstice was nearing next week. Val and Heimdall oversaw security for the entire festival. Thor and Tony were in charge of the New Year’s Eve celebrations. While Loki was to oversee The Winter Solstice bonfire. The start of Yuletide would kick off the entire festival and essentially set the tone for how the next two weeks would go.

But no matter how busy he got; Loki would always make time for you. He would check in on you throughout the day and leave small tokens for you on the kitchen table. Sometimes, it would be wildflowers or little love notes. Other times, he would steal you to a dark corner of the house and you would make out like young teenagers about to get caught. Every time you returned to the kitchen, you would have the brightest shade of pink on your cheeks and a smile on your face.

The eve of Winter Solstice was especially stressful for Loki. He was a perfectionist, and he did not want any excuse for a critique on his part of the festivities. He skipped dinner that night, opting for a light sandwich that you brought him just hours before. He was working with Korg and the city’s lumberjacks to build the bonfire. It was a large trunk of a spruce to represent the Yule log. Anyone watching could tell how frustrating it was to instruct the living golem. Let alone the dozens of citizens milling about. Loki was exhausted. You wanted to take that burden off him and help him relax.

Later that night, when he finally retired to your room, he came in with a frustrated sigh. He sat down by the fire and took his boots off.

“Sinta-my love, is that you?” You asked from the ensuite.

“Yes, darling.” He slumped into the chair, tired from the work and making decisions. His fingers were on the bridge of his nose, pinching to get the headache out that was just forming. He heard you come out in front of him and felt your fingers run through his hair. He let out a contented sigh as he felt your touch take away the last exhaustion of the day.

He opened his eyes to you wearing a sheer green robe with black feather trim. A smile formed on his face, appreciating the sight before him.

“I will gladly relive today for the rest of my life if it means I get to see you like this at the end of each night.” He said as his hands snuck under your robe to feel your curvaceous thighs. He traced your markings with his fingers causing you to shiver at his light touch.

“Uh-uh. Hands down.” You said with your compulsion. Loki felt his body comply, quickly lowering his hands, confused.

“Darling, how are you doing that? You’re not singing.”

“I don’t know.” You admitted guiltily. “A power I just discovered recently since…” you lifted your hair to point out the Darkside. Loki looked up at you in wonder.

“You are exquisite. Do you know that?” Loki asked rhetorically. “A true wonder!” He’s constantly learning new things about you. You were always growing into your powers and more comfortable in your own skin. His gaze wandered all over your body, touching you with his eyes since his hands weren’t able to do so. He saw your pebbled nipple peek through your robe, and he wanted to take them into his mouth. He was itching to touch you. You straddled him on the chair, your hands combing his hair.

“I want you to relax. You’ve worked so hard the past week, making sure everything is perfect for your celebrations. Give up your control to me. If you let me, I’ll take care of you.” Loki simply closed his eyes, relishing in your touch. He loved playing this game with you. Although it was usually him who took control, tonight he was excited to just give all that up and not have to make a decision. Just follow. He trusted you completely and was excited about how this night would end.

“Do you remember our safe word, my prince?”

“Mmhmm.” Loki nodded. His eyes were glinting with need.

“You will listen to me,” your voice echoed in his head. Compelling him.

“Yes.” He said breathlessly.

“Yes…what?” You asked pulling his hair, his head jerking back.

“Yes, my goddess.” He answered, swallowing, as you watched the bob of his Adam’s apple.

“Good boy. Such a good little prince for me.” You nuzzled against his nose, teasing his lips with yours. He blushed at your praise.

He leaned in to capture your lips, but you stood up from his lap. You sat back down on the settee, grabbing your glass of wine. “Take off your clothes…slowly.” You commanded, his hungry gaze watching you. You had better be careful. You knew that if you went overboard, he would find a way to pay you back when his turn came up. The thought made you rub your thighs together in anticipation.

Loki started with his socks, slipping out of them quickly. Next, his jacket, letting it fall off his shoulders and onto the floor. “I said slowly, my love, I want to enjoy you,” you said taking a sip of your wine.

He gave you a smart grin and loosened his tie. He untied it slowly and pulled it off his neck. He gently threw it at you, and you caught it with your free hand. You wrapped it around your neck as Loki started unbuttoning his shirt. He started from the top and took his time with each button. His long fingers traced down his sculpted torso. Your eyes followed as he reached down for his belt. His smooth skin glowed in the firelight.

The sound of his belt coming undone made you bite your bottom lip. You closed your eyes, relishing the sound. He loved making you squirm. Even though you might have the upper hand this time, he knew there were certain things he could do to make you go crazy. He unzipped his pants and reached inside. He grabbed his hardening cock and let out a low growl. Just because he couldn’t touch you, doesn’t mean he couldn’t touch himself.

You licked your lips and said, “Uh-uh, naughty little prince. That’s my job.” He let go of himself giving you the hungriest eyes you’ve ever seen. With his shirt still on, he pulled his pants down and stepped out.

You finished your wine and stood up. Your robe cascading over your shoulders and all around you. When you stood next to him, he could see the swell of your breast hidden underneath. All he would have to do is pull the robe-tie and he would be blessed with all your glory. But he kept still. He fisted his hands trying to quell the urge to grab you. He watched you come close. Your dark eyes somehow glittered in the low light.

“Hmmm. You look so beautiful,” you said as you ran your hands under his shirt. Your fingers caressed the hard muscles of his chest, the lines of his lean abs. You hooked a finger under the band of his boxers and pulled him closer. You ran your nose up and down his neck, smelling his scent of leather and honey. “So, intoxicating.” He let out a quiet moan at your praise. You licked his neck, then gave him a small bite. He took a quick intake of breath, and you soothed him by kissing the same spot. “Mmm. You are so good, you know that?” You felt him tense at your words. You couldn’t miss the way his eyes looked away, not wanting to meet yours. There was so much in that one comment. That one word.

“If you say so, goddess,” he said humbly.

“Hey, do you trust me?” you asked him, bringing his face back around to you.

“Unconditionally,” he answered.

“You are good! To your people, your team. To me!  You’ve taken care of me, watching out for me. Now you’re taking on more responsibility with Yuletide. I know it’s been stressful. You’ve taken a lot of that burden on yourself. I want to take care of you for a change. Don’t think. Just let me take charge. Let me take care of you. The way you take care of me.” He looked into your blackened eyes. Is that what this is about? You felt like you owed him something for taking care of you since your injury?

He tried to refute, “Darling…”

“Stop.” You put your finger up to his lips. He could feel the simple command and he obeyed. “Change into your true form.” You asked without your compulsion. You didn’t want to use your call on this one. You wanted it to be his choice. You needed him to stop thinking and just be himself. Be in the moment.

He didn’t understand your fascination with his Jotunn form. He looked at you, pained. He wanted to do it, but it scared him. He was more aggressive. More feral in this form. Yet, being in his true form was liberating. He felt things on a more basic level. No decorum, no social entanglements, or consequences. It allowed him to be himself.

Your hands traveled under his shirt and pushed it off him, stopping on his arms. “Would you like me to continue as you are? Just say the word, my prince,” you whispered, kissing his chest. He trusted you unquestionably. You had never judged him. You made him feel safe and at home.

You look at him as if he brought you the world at your feet. Loki would too. All you would have to do is ask.

With the last of his resolve melting away, he relinquished his control. The ink spot started in his heart. Then traveled through his body. His ridges came next, followed by his ruby eyes.

“Such a good prince. Let me prove it to you.” You lifted his hands to your lips. “With these hands, you carry me.” You gave them each a kiss. Then your hands traveled up his chiseled arms.

“With these arms, you protect me,” you kissed his left bicep then his right, and wrapped both of his arms behind you, engulfing you in his cold embrace. You walked your fingers up his shoulders and then lightly traced your fingers down his forehead. He smiled at your attempt to praise him.

“With these eyes, you watch over me.” You traced your finger gently down his face, closing his eyes, towards his lips.

“With these lips, you encourage me to be myself,” you whispered as you ran your lips past his. Gently touching them. It was a small taste, but he had to have more. He pulled you in for a kiss, grabbing you closer to his erection. You gently pushed him away admonishing his actions. “Cheeky prince. Do I have to tie you up now?” You giggled. You grabbed his tie that was still around your neck and tied it around his hands, cuffing him.

You untied your robe, letting it open to your sides, exposing your naked body underneath. His eyes went wide taking in your curvaceous shape. You took the belt of your robe and covered his eyes. His sight of you was short-lived. “I wasn’t done appreciating you.” You stepped back, looking at the panting, erect god in front of you. You knelt down in front of him. He could feel your robe pooling around his legs.

“With these legs, you pick me up when I’m down and support me when I can’t hold myself up.” You trailed your nails up his calf, then scratched his thighs up and under the hem of his boxers. You pulled them down, his hard cock springing forth in front of your face. He could feel your breath on him, the anticipation making him shiver.

“And with this….” you grabbed him gently, pumping your hands up and down his hard shaft, squeezing, letting out a low grunt. Your lips were on his tip as you talked, “…you give me the most intense pleasures I’ve ever received.” You licked once on his tip as a warning, then took him into your mouth. The sudden rush of heat and snugness made him tilt his head back and roar a guttural moan.

You continued to suck, hollowing your cheeks. Your tongue followed the ridges on his cock. His tied hands resting on top of your head. His fingers, opening, and closing, trying to find purchase in your hair as you took him in your mouth.

You pushed him further inside, feeling him in the back of your throat. When you took him out, you swirled your tongue at his tip before you quickly thrust your lips down his shaft. You can feel him twitch, tasting him. He was so close. His knees almost buckling.

“Goddess, I’m almost…uuuhh…I’m close...” he said panting. You took him out of your mouth, sucking hard. You stood up and pulled his tied hands to lead him back to the settee. He was losing the high you gave him as his body settled down onto the couch. You pulled your belt off his eyes. He looked up at you, his cock twitching at the sight of your naked body in front of him.

“You cum when I tell you to. Do you understand my prince?” He nodded his head. “Use your words.”

“Yes, goddess.” He said breathlessly. You knelt in front of him, opening his legs wider. He had nowhere else to put his tied hands but above his head.

You started with his inner thigh, licking then sucking. You switched to his other leg, inching up closer to his red-hard cock. “Eyes on me, prince.”

“Yes, goddess,” he said panting. You slowly licked from the base of his cock up to the tip. His face held the most exquisite look of sex on it. Loki was on the edge. His body screamed to let go it was almost painful. He tilted his head back on the couch savoring your mouth. You stopped sucking, taking him out of your mouth altogether. You bit the inside of his thigh, making him yelp and take a sharp intake of breath.

“I said eyes on me.”

He bobbed his head back, watching you. You took him in your mouth, making him hit the back of your throat. You tried to swallow but he was so thick. His cries spur you on as you bobbed your head faster and faster. “Ohgoddesspleaseplease,” he cried out. You took him out of your mouth, saliva dripping at the side of your lips.

“My prince, you’re so hard for me. Where do you want to cum, hmm? In my mouth?” you gave him one long lick up his shaft, exhaling a rough breath. “Or inside my aching pussy?” He nodded his head, unable to speak. You stood up and straddled him. Your legs resting on either side of his hips. “Speak,” you said grabbing his chin.

“Yes…my goddess. P—please, I want to be inside...” He said with a slight whine. You discarded your robe and wrapped your arms around his neck. You gave him a searing kiss, all tongue and passion. His cold body seared your heated skin. You started grinding against him, his hard-ridged cock rubbing against your wet folds. He couldn’t handle this edging anymore, but your compulsion was making it hard for him to release himself.

“Do you want to use a safe word, my king?” you asked grinding against him.

“N-no…Feelstoogood…” he muttered.You reached in between your bodies and positioned him at your entrance. “Mmm, you’re going to feel so delicious sliding into me.” He bit his lip in anticipation.

You pushed your hips down, making you both cry out. “You feel so good baby,” you said as you started grinding up and down his hard cock. Loki couldn’t take it anymore.

“…please goddess…”

“What do you need, my king.”

“I ne—need to cum. Please let me cum inside you.”

“Oh, but you’ve been so cheeky. I think I need to watch you squirm a little more.” Loki let out a pained growl. He watched your body ride him. Your breast bouncing up and down. “I’m so close, baby. Oh gods…aammmm” you moaned and cried in front of him, the sight of you getting off on him caused him to nearly lose it. You kept grinding. His rock-hard shaft felt so good inside you. You felt so full as he would hit that sensitive spot time and time again. He lifted his bound hands up and over your body.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” you said into his neck. “But you kept denying me back at the tower.” Realization finally hits him. This was payback for the four weeks he had taken care of you.

“I’m going to make you pay for denying me.” You said, slightly teasing. “Oh, kitten. I wish you would.”

This was payback for denying you all those times you wanted something more, but he was afraid to hurt you further. You raised your eyebrow at him, daring him to say something. Your grinding got faster and stronger. You had a more powerful thrust building him up again.

“Do you see what you do to me, baby? You make me a little slut for your cock,” you panted, kissing his neck, marking his skin. Your words made him moan out your name along with Asgardian curses. You’re bouncing on him, rough and fast. His cries getting louder. You reached behind you and untied his hands from his tie. Loki flexed his wrists, relishing the freedom of not being cuffed any longer.

“Touch me. I want you to come with me. I’m going to count down, ok?” you whined. He nodded, short of breath, grabbing your waist.

“Three.” you picked up speed, slamming down harder on his throbbing cock. His fingers bruised the side of your hips as he helped himself further inside you. He let out a loud moan as he settled back into the cushion.

“Two.” The sensation and the anticipation of coming undone heightened his arousal. “Baby, you feel so damn good. I don’t want to stop,” you said, slamming harder down on him.

“One! Loki, fill me up, please…” At your words, he let go. His loud moans echo in your head. You kept riding him, unable to get enough of the sensation of his cold hard dick inside you. He kept pumping, his fingers gripping you tight.

“Oh, that’s it, goddess. Take it. Take all of me.” He growled into your ear. He held you still as he started thrusting his hips upward. The sensation prolonging your orgasm into a second wave, crashing into you. You were a screaming mess. Your head was thrown back as Loki bucked up into you, releasing his long overdue orgasm. With one last push, he thrusts up while slamming you down. You screamed his name. Over and over. You slumped over him feeling the weight of your body sinking down into his.

It was several minutes before you could open your eyes to him. When you did, he was already watching you with his ruby ones.

“You’re so beautiful, my prince,” you said as you left little love marks on his neck. It was hard to tell if they would show up on his blue skin, but you hoped they would.

“That was amazing, kitten. Maybe I should deny you more often.”

“Did my punishment not scare you enough? Maybe I just need to edge you longer next time.” You said tugging on his ear with your teeth.  

⬅️Chapter 24: Local God | Chapter 26: So This Is Love➡️

Tags: @user13cabs @alexs1200 @lokiprompts @huntress-artemiss

[httphopewrld]

I Don’t Know What to Call This | (f/m/a)

Just Friends? Friends with benefits? Dating? Questions swarmed your mind when one of your dear friends, Allie, asked about you and Hoseok’s relationship. The truth was you didn’t know. You and Hoseok were close, knowing each other since elementary school, and considered each other friends. However, as you two grew older, maturing into separate professions—you a well-known fashion designer, and Hoseok a famous musician and dancer—you two had engaged in some intimate activities (sex—lots of it.) After Allie’s simple question, you had to confront your feelings. But were you and Hoseok ready to be more than close friends and f*ck buddies?

Pairing: friend/lover/bfhoseok! x female reader

Genre: slowburn fluff and SMUT

Rating: 18+ because there’s swearing and pretty detailed smut

Warnings: swearing and SMUT (one of the most detailed smuts I've written, and there's more than one sex scene.) Smut includes: switch!reader and switch!hoseok, grinding and thrusting, protective sex (USE CONDOMS, I cannot stress that enough), lots of kissing, ass-grabbing, dirty talk, a wee bit of choking on both sides, squirting, male and female oral, fingering and handjobs, vibrator use, cyber-sex, the reader uses dildo, slight degradation, and just lots of filth—YOU'RE WELCOME FELLOW FILTHY ANIMALS. Oh, and spoilers for the horror movie Hush. It's on Netflix if you haven't watched it yet. It is GOOD.

  Word Count: 16, 465 (wowie)

A/N: Thank you for waiting! It’s rushed, so expect some little mistakes here an there, but I’m happy with how it turned out. I hope y'all enjoy it! Also, Y/L/N means "your last name."

  Taglist: @kirbykook​ @kleritata​ @taestannie​ @jenotation​ @hemmos-obrien​ @zeharilisharaban​ @speed-of-wind​ @kawaisoraya​

⊱ ────── {⋅. ✯ .⋅} ────── ⊰

“You can move those over there,” you gestured to the left corner of the windowed room, where a pile of boxes waited. The move was going to take longer than you expected because the movers arrived a week later than your assistant, Rachel said. I really need to talk to her about this. You stressed in your mind, rubbing your temples. “Are you okay?” You looked up, vision resuming its focus on your friend, Allie. Allie, your friend for as long as you could remember, offered to help you move to your new building. She would help you manage everything, including the movers, tracking your company's items, and the layout you gave to her for said things while managing the company. “I’m just irritated at Rachel,” you noticed her confusion, “my new assistant.” She nodded, remembering, “Right. Why is she still employed?” “Because she’s new, and being an assistant is a tough feat. She’ll get it soon.” You reassured, “Rachel is a fast learner, and this is her first mistake. We’re prepared for the next show, though, because Westley's helping me organize it.” “Remind me who Westley is?” Allie asked. You sighed. “West is like my second brain. He helps organize the fashion shows, hire the models, find the venues, and secure the guest list. He has other people help him too, but he’s the brains of that. I create the fashion, and he finds a way to present it.” Allie nodded, “Gotcha.” Your phone rang, and you answered. “Y/N.” “Y/N!” Rachel chimed on the other end. “It’s Rachel. I’m so sorry about the mix-up on dates. It won’t happen again, I—” “I know it won’t, Rachel. You’re new, so I expected to slip up. I’ve gotten it taken care of,” you nudged Allie’s arm, and she smiled. “We’re luckily prepared for the next show in Vancouver, so you don’t have to worry about the mess up. All I need you to do now is make sure that my fabrics are coming in.” “Yes! They’ve arrived at the studio.” Rachel replied. "Fantastic. Thank you. That'll be all for now. Check on West if he needs anything." You ordered. “Will do, Y/N. Talk to you soon.” You hung up. The Vancouver show was in five months, giving you and your team enough time to design the clothes for the production and move to the new building. The show's theme was natural bodies of water and nature, a nod to Canada's landscape. The clothing catalogue would include various icy blue shades to represent waterfalls and warm emerald tones like flora and fauna. These colours would be encapsulated in elegant gowns and suits, worn by different body shapes, genders, and colours. The materials would be made from recycled fabrics from your previous shows and from your fellow artists. You were known for designing elegant attire, so it was best to keep to it. However, it was rare to see different sized, coloured, and gendered models on a runway; because of having to customize clothes to those models. Additionally, making clothes from recycled fabrics would be tough. “Okay,” you began, “I need to talk to my design team and plan out the gowns. Can I leave you here to deal with the movers?” Allie gave you a thumbs up. “Thank you,” you smiled, hugging her, “if you need anything, please call me or Rachel, or both. We’ll be back to help.” Before you left, a thought struck you. You turned around to face Allie. “I should just hire you.” She chuckled, “Why?” You scoffed, "Because you're here all the time!" You walked back to her. "Listen, you're the best manager I know. You can be my third brain. You already are, outside of work, so it would make sense." Allie seemed unsure. “I already have my job at Youth and Hope.” You grasped her hands. “You would be given a great wage, not just because you’re my best friend, but because you’re going to be busy with lots of work. You would be handling the management tasks, like West. You’d be given a good amount of vacation, trips for shows and meetings would be paid for—you could get that loft you always wanted downtown.” You wiggled your eyebrows, and Allie laughed. “Don’t I have to go through an interview process?” You brushed a hand through the air. “I can get someone to interview you and officially hire you. Once that’s done, you’ll start getting paid.” You checked your watch, and a quick rush of panic ran through you. “Shit, I’m going to be late. Consider it, alright! Let me know your availability, and we’ll schedule an interview!” “Okay!” She shouted back as you left. . . The coffee had become bitter. You weren’t sure if it was the roast or the fact that this was your fourth cup of the night. It had been a month since the fabrics arrived. Thanks to Allie, your friend and now employee, your move to the new building was complete; however, your designs weren’t translating as smoothly as you wish. "Fuck," you cursed, resting your head in your hands and rubbing your temples. The sketches waited in front of you—the measurements and ideas raking at your confidence. Your designs are redundant. You’ve done something similar last time.                                                                       Boring. Plain. You turned back to your mannequins, still bare. The theme was in your mind, and your design team reassured you that your sketches were fine, but it all felt fuzzy. “Y/N,” Rachel peered into the studio from the door, “there’s a gentleman here to see you.” “His name?” You asked, still looking at the mannequins. You heard footsteps retreat into the front lobby, then come back to the door. “Jung Hoseok?” You turned around, trying to contain your excitement. “Please send him in.” Rachel nodded, jogging back to the lobby. You heard a muffled “thank you” before heavy footsteps approaching your studio. Hoseok reached the doorway, beaming his signature smile. He wore acid-washed jeans, a baggy white sweater that matched his chunky light sneakers. His dark hair was slightly wavy and parted in the middle. A tote bag was slung over his shoulder. “Y/N!” He cheered, opening his arms wide. “Hoseok!” You replied, running into his arms and hugging him tightly. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw Hoseok—a year or two? “Fuck, how long has it been?” You asked him. He pulled away, thinking. “About six months?” Totally off. “Seriously, it felt longer than that.” You argued. Hoseok pulled out his phone and scrolled through his calenderer and photos. He made a ‘tsk’ sound. “Ah, see here,” he showed you a few photos of you two with his friends, who were also his bandmates, “six months ago, you joined us on tour for a couple days before coming back here. I have it also marked in my calendar.” He showed you the dates, which were marked with ‘💚Y/N’s visit💚.’ “Can Namjoon or Yoongi confirm this?” You crossed your arms. Hoseok mimicked your body language. “I can call them right now,” he challenged. You two stood in competitive tension. You succumbed. “You win this time, Jung Hoseok.” He playfully chuckled. You realized that Hoseok doesn’t live around here. “Wait, why are you in town. Shouldn’t you and the others be in Korea planning another album or something?” You speculated. “Our company gave us a month for vacation because we spent most of the year touring.” Hoseok sighed. “So, I decided to come to visit.” You hugged him again, happy to see someone who wasn’t your employee amidst this chaos of stress. “How long are you staying?” You asked, muffled against his chest. He paused. “Maybe a month?” You pulled away from him, shocked. “A month? Here? That’s all your vacation time.” “Yeah,” he replied, as if that wasn’t a big deal, “I didn’t want to travel to a bunch of places because the group and I have been doing that for almost a year—and it’s pretty chill in this area.” He sighed. “Besides, I don’t think many people would recognize me. The airport wasn’t busy, and I haven’t been swarmed by fans yet.” “Do you have a place to stay?” You asked. He nodded. “Yup! I’m staying at a fancy hotel. I got the suite at the top floor,” he made a gesture with his hand, indicating how high up his suite was. You playfully elbowed his side. "Wow, look at you, Mr. Famous. You can afford a top suite now. Are you sure you don't want to stay with me, though?” Hoseok dismissed your offer with a wave of his hand. “It’s alright, Y/N. Thank you, though.” He peered over your shoulder, “It looks like you’re busy anyway, so I think I’ll just stick to my suite.” He walked past you, over to the bare mannequins. “Are you preparing for that show in Vancouver that you told me about?” You nodded, relaying your theme and ideas to him. He smiled. “That sounds really cool,” he pointed to the mannequins, “but don’t you need some clothes for the show, then?” You rolled your eyes, chuckling at him for being a smart ass. “Yes, I do. I’m brainstorming some ideas right now, but I’m coming up with nothing. I have the design team coming in tomorrow with drafts, but I’d like to bring my own thing to the table, you know? I’m the main brain of this operation, and it’d be embarrassing if I come in with zilch.” You leaned against one of the tables, facing the mannequins. "The tough part is designing gowns that fit the right people, you know. Sure, you can make a collection of clothes, but they won't look good if they don't fit the models." You shook your head. "Maybe it's just tougher to design clothes for different bodies. I should just stick to one type of person and leave it at that." Hoseok walked up beside you, leaning against the same table and facing the figures. “Why don’t you find the models and then design the clothes?” You looked at him, surprised. “But wouldn’t that take a long time?” He crossed his arms, “Well, how many models would you need?” “We’re thinking around seventy. There’s going to be two changes within the show.” Hoseok nodded, and you could see him brainstorming. “Well, you have four months left, right? You and your team can make some drafts, cast the models, and finalize the ideas with said models. Which would take about a couple of months? You could do that while planning the show?” He paused, appearing to notice your hesitant expression. “Think about it. You’ve trained your team well enough to work on its own, right? That’s what you did for your last show, which was a success. You came in every day for a couple hours to make sure everything was in order, then focused on other things.” Hoseok grasped your hands. “You’re great at multitasking, so do it. It’s scary, but you can check on people every day to make sure everything’s alright.” You bit your lip, “I-I don’t know, Hoseok. That sounds like a lot of work—” “You did it last time, and it worked out just fine,” he gently squeezed your hands, “and I’m here for a month. I can help out whenever you need me. I’ll simply clean things up and fetch coffee if that’s what you need.” You laughed, “Like my intern?” “Yeah! I don’t know how to design anything or plan a fashion show, but I’ll do what I can.” He smiled. “You’re so much more than you think, Y/N, and if you need reminders, I’ll be here.” You smiled back at him, so grateful to have him here. “My god, you’re fucking sweet,” you scoffed, taking your hands out of his. Hoseok laughed. You pushed yourself off the table and faced him. “How did we even become friends?” You questioned. He actually gave it a thought. “You joined by dance club in elementary school, when no one else would.” He laughed so hard that he teared up. “I think we actually took club photos, and it was only you and I posing.” You laughed with him, remembering those days spent trying to breakdance to hip hop and presenting dance routines to your parents. “Yeah, that was before you joined that Music Academy in grade four, right?” He nodded, and you sighed, surprised you still remembered. Your mind came back to the present. “So, you’re actually okay with helping out?” You checked. “Why would I ask if I didn’t want to?” Hoseok replied. You tapped your index finger against your temple, “true.” “So, how much do you want?” Hoseok looked offended at your question. You chuckled. “Well, you’re going to work for me, so I need to pay you.” “It’s only just a month, though.” “Yeah, but—” “What about we see how much you have me do before you pay me?” He interrupted. “I might just have to fetch coffee, so you can just give me money on the spot.” You thought about it for a minute. Hoseok yawned. “This work talk is making me tired. Do you want to go out for dinner?” He looked around you, “Unless you have more work to do. I can always wait in the lobby for you to finish.” You brushed your hand through the air, “Nah, it’s okay. I’m pretty brain dead anyway. I need to be energized for tomorrow’s draft review.” Hoseok pushed himself off the table and clapped. “Awesome! Where do you think I’m taking you for dinner?” You bit your lip, trying to guess. “Sushi?” “Sushi it is!” He beamed. You grabbed your things and followed him out of the studio.

Both of you sat towards the back of the sushi restaurant, to Hoseok’s request. The waitress placed you two in a concealed booth, with drapes covering a small entrance.

You two had to take your shoes off before sitting down.

“Why did you say, ‘sushi it is?’” You asked, taking a sip of your water.

Hoseok opened his can of sprite, “What do you mean?”

“You asked where I thought you were taking me, I responded, and you said, ‘sushi it is!’” You reiterated.

He took a sip of his soda before responding, "It's a trick I learned from Instagram." He set his drink down. "You ask someone, 'where do you think I'm taking you for food?' dinner or whatever, and then take them to a place with that food. It's easier than asking 'what do you want to eat?' because people can't decide."

You nodded, making an ‘aaahhh’ sound. “Smart.”

You two caught up while eating your meals. Hoseok chatted about his bandmates and the tour, and you talked about your move to the new building.

Most of it was just adding more details about your lives because you two texted lots during the week and sometimes video chatted. You'd get to see Hoseok and his friends, and he'd get a view of your life on the other side of the world.

To others, it looked like both of you were dating. Both of your friends would tease, singing, "Y/N and Hoseok sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G." Many of his fans, ARMY, would theorize your friendship, pointing out the matching bracelets you two wore—which was later proved normal because Hoseok went live on Vlive making bracelets for his bandmates.

And you two would continually clarify that you two were strictly long-time friends. Nothing more.

Girls and boys can be friends. Simple as that.

You and Hoseok finished your meals. You two shared a few rolls and a bento box and were full.

“That was really good.” You commented, rubbing your stomach.

Hoseok chuckled, copying you, “I think I’m pregnant.”

You laughed, “Shut up! You’re so fit.”

“You’re right,” he replied, pulling up his sleeves and flexing his arms.

You both laughed as he flexed his muscles, which were significantly more prominent than your remembered. You were slightly jealous of his lean athletic figure.

And were gazing at it for too long.

“I don’t know about you,” Hoseok sighed, appearing to be tired from the food and flexing his muscles, “but I’m in the mood for some Ben and Jerry’s.”

Your eyes lit up. “YES.”

“Cookie dough with chunks?” You both said in unison.

You two erupted in laughter.

"I'll go play," Hoseok said, getting up.

You stopped him, “It’s alright,” you smiled, “my treat.”

Before you left the booth, you turned around and said thoughtfully, "But you're getting the ice cream."

Hoseok's expression conveyed the same seriousness as if a soldier on a mission.

He saluted you. “Copy that, Y/N.”

You saluted him back and left to pay.

The walk to Ben and Jerry’s was quick. Both of you were eager to share the tub of ice cream.

You ended up getting a chocolate chip cookie dough and a cherry Garcia pint, and two spoons to share. You both ate the ice creams with delight while walking back to your apartment building.

When arriving at your building, Hoseok handed you the cookie dough ice cream pint.

“What are you doing?” You asked while he gave you the closed pint.

He tilted his head to the side, confused. “What do you mean? I’m dropping you off at your place.”

You gave a shocked expression. “Dropping me off? We’re not even done our pints!”

“But you have work tomorrow. I don’t want to keep you up.” Hoseok stepped back towards the edge of the sidewalk. “I can catch a cab back to the hotel, don’t worry.”

You balanced the pints in one hand and used your other to grab his arm.

“You’re not going anywhere,” you said, pulling away from the curb and closer to your building.

Hoseok pulled his arm out of your grip. "Y/N, you need to be well-rested—"

“At least help me finish the ice cream.” You interrupted, holding up the pints that were now in both your hands, along with your spoon.

“We haven’t seen each other six months, and it’s only…”

Hoseok pulled out his phone. “Nine.”

“Exactly!” You expressed. “It’s only nine. I don’t need to be in until nine-thirty tomorrow morning. As long as you’re out by eleven, that gives me an hour to get ready for bed at twelve, and I will wake up at eight. Plenty of rest!”

You watched his unsure expression.

"If you don't want to go home at eleven, that's fine by me. Could you leave earlier? Or you can go back to your hotel if you want. I won't take offence; you know me." You held up your arms in surrender, ice cream pints still in your hands. "But if you're leaving because you're worried that I won't get enough sleep, don't. I'm a grown woman. I know how to take care of myself, and I want you to come in.

Hoseok bit his lip, appearing to debate the offer.

He sighed. "Fine, I'll come in. However, I don't want to get a text from you complaining about being tired in the morning."

“I swear,” you promised, pretending to draw an ‘x’ over your heart, “I cross my heart.”

Hoseok chuckled, and you led the two of you into your apartment building and into the elevator. You pressed the twentieth button, and you two waited in comfortable silence.

The elevator doors opened, and you two walked to your apartment.

You opened the door to your studio apartment, locking the door behind you two and hanging up your bag along with your keys.

“Want anything to drink?” You asked, setting down the ice cream pint in your hand and taking off your coat.

Hoseok set down the cookie dough pint on the coffee table. “Anything is alright, thanks,”

You hummed, getting both of you bottles of black cherry soda and bringing over the cherry Garcia pint and your spoon.

"Jesus, do you need help?" Hoseok asked with worry, seeing you holding the bottles by their necks in one hand and the ice cream pint and spoon in the other.

You chuckled, “It’s alright, just sit down.”

You two sat on the couch, twisting off the caps on your sodas and taking a sip.

Hoseok sighed. “That’s really good,” he gestured to the pop before putting it down on the coffee table.

“Yeah! They’re so addictive,” you replied, setting coasters under both of your drinks.

Both of you continued to reminisce about your childhood, especially middle school. The puberty years had been gruesome to you two, speckling your faces with acne.

You pulled out a photo album you kept on one of your bookshelves, which had pictures of your families and your younger selves—even photos when Hoseok was training, before debuting with BTS in 2013.

“Oh my god, look at you!” You gasped, showing him a picture.

In the photo, Hoseok arms were crossed over his chest, his attempt at having swagger. He wore a collared shirt, and his hair was short.

“Oh god, no,” Hoseok cringed, gently pushing the photo away.

You chuckled, "You were so adorable, always dancing and having a good time." You smiled. "You are such a hard worker, practicing so much. I remember you twisting your ankle but still practicing."

You looked at him tenderly. “I wish people could see that.”

Hoseok smiled back at you, softly touching your hand. You grasped his hand, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

He was the first to pull away.

“You remember our sleepovers?” He asked.

You giggled, "Yeah when you could leave that cramped place you shared with the boys."

He swatted your arm, “That apartment was good! It was where everything started.” He pouted. “Anyways, we would always look up deep questions to ask each other—or would you rather.”

You rolled your eyes. “Those questions were overrated.”

“I thought they were nice!” Hoseok defended. “We got to know each other more, like, ‘what is your biggest fear?’ or ‘what is your biggest pet peeve?’”

He must've seen your unimpressed expression because he continued, "You got to admit that you learned a bit more about me because of those questions!"

You sighed. “I did, I guess.”

Hoseok held up his index finger, seeming to signal ‘wait a minute.’

He pulled out his phone. “Let’s try some now, then.”

“Hoseok—”

“Come on,” he interrupted. “If you don’t learn anything new about me from the first four questions we do, then we can stop, alright? I will never bring up these questions ever again.”

You debated his offer.

“Fine.” You agreed, setting down the photo album. “Shoot.”

“Okay, but we both pick two questions and answer all of them. For example, when we ask a question, the other person answers before the picker.” Hoseok said while he scrolled.

You hummed, understanding his instructions.  

“Want to do would you rather?”

“Sure.”

"Sexy edition?" Hoseok wiggled his eyebrows. "Unless you're uncomfortable."

You scoffed. “Hobi, we're grown, adults. I can take a few sexual questions."

“Okay,” Hoseok replied, “but if you ever feel uncomfortable, we can choose another question or stop.”

You nodded, and Hoseok appeared to find what he was looking for.

“Alright,” he began, “would you rather bite someone’s ear during sex or bite someone’s lip during sex?”

This is pretty vanilla. You thought.

"Lip, for sure." You emphasized the 'sure' in your sentence, stringing along with the 'er' sound.

“Same,” Hoseok agreed while passing you his phone.

You took his cell and strolled through the website.

What do I choose? Do I just dive in, or go for the vanilla shit?

“Would you rather engage in foreplay or go right into the main course?” You asked.

Hoseok thought about it. “I would say foreplay. You can warm things up—and nothing is more fun than teasing.” He shimmied, making you two laugh.

You agreed, passing the phone to him.

“Oooo, here’s a classic,” he grinned, “top or bottom?”

“I think I’m a switch,” you replied.

He tilted his head.

“It’s like, you’re both, top and bottom. I like to take control sometimes, but I can also sub.” You explained. “You?”

“Top,” he replied, “for sure.”

You laughed, “You sound so against being a bottom.”

He laughed too. “I like pleasuring the person I’m having sex with. Nothing is more satisfying than making someone cum.”

“True,” you admitted.

You found your mind wandering to unholy memories of you and Hoseok. What was odd about your friendship that—to put it blatantly—you two had sex. Not just once, but a few times.

This is why asking these questions was pretty casual and not too surprising.

You two started engaging in sex a couple years ago. You were stressed about your company starting, and Hoseok was in town. He offered to help you relax, and before you knew it, he was drilling into you from behind.

Both of you agreed to stay friends but continued to have sex every now and then. It was great, you had to admit. Probably the best sex you had in your life, and it was good that you two were able to keep your friendship platonic at the same time. Only, it was sex without the romantic feelings.

To be honest, you were craving it again.

He passed you his phone again, and you tried to pick a good last question.

“Would you rather kiss me gently or kiss me aggressively?” You asked.

Hoseok paused before answering. “Depends on the mood.”

“Well, at this moment, then, what is the mood?”

You watched Hoseok’s eyes shift between your lips then your eyes.

“Aggressively.”

You hummed. “Good to know.” You passed him back his phone. “Last question.”

Hoseok chuckled, “You seriously didn’t learn anything new?”

You shrugged. “I guess not.”

He didn't seem bothered, though, when his body shifted closer to yours.

When he looked back up at you, his expression changed. Although his eyes were already an opaque shade of brown, they had darkened.

I know that look.

He smirked. “Would you rather make the first move or receive the first move?”

You bit your lip, gazing up at his body.

Before you could reconnect with his eyes, you heard his phone drop, and his lips were on yours.

Just like his answer, his kisses were aggressive and needy. You could taste the cherry cola and ice cream on his lips and mouth.

You pulled his face closer, wanting more.

Hoseok’s body language opened up, allowing you to get up and straddle his lap. You felt his hands inch up your shirt and tug at the fabric. He helped you take it off, which gave him access to your breasts.

You felt him undo your bra with a quick flick of his fingers, and you tossed it off without a care.

Hoseok let out a chuckle before claiming your lips with his.

His lips were intoxicating, and you wanted more.

“Please touch me,” you begged against his lips.

He hummed, grazing his hands down your back before roughly grabbing your ass. You moaned, and he held you against him, hard enough to feel him grind into you.

“Fuck, stop teasing,” you pulled away, and he laughed.

“Baby, I’m not teasing,” he smirked.

Baby. The term of endearment made your heart swoon.

You weren’t always this infatuated by Hoseok. But the way he came to visit you during his break, had dinner and ice cream with you, and kissed you this good—it made you want more than just a fling.

But you couldn't think that way. It was sex. You two were doing this to get off, not engage in lovemaking.

Hoseok swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, eyeing your figure. “You know what I want.”

You ran your hand up and down his chest. “What are you waiting for?”

Hoseok's hands came underneath your thighs, and he picked you up, walking you to your bedroom. He used your body to close the door, slamming you against it.

He ground himself against your core, causing you to moan louder than you expected.

You covered your mouth in embarrassment.

Hoseok chuckled, “It’s okay,” he pulled away enough to graze his thumb over your cheek, “I love it when you moan.”

You rolled your eyes, kissing him and grabbing his ass, causing him to grind on your core.

"Fuck, I can practically feel that you wet," he groaned, trying his best to hold you up and sturdy you against the door.

“B-bed,” you choked, one of his particular thrusts stroking perfectly against you.  

Hoseok moved you towards your bed and gingerly placed you down. He kissed down your bare chest and slowly took off your pants and underwear.

“Fuck, your perfect,” Hoseok awed, softly running a finger through your wet heat.

His cold finger sent a wave of pleasure through you, making you flinch.

Hoseok hummed. “So wet for me,”

He looked up at you. “May I?”

You nodded, but he only smirked.

“Words, baby,” he put a hand to his ear.

“Please,” you bit down on your lip.

You felt him spread your lips, and you clenched in response. He appeared to savour you, taking his time as he ate you out.

When you moaned, he’d hum, sending vibrations into your heat that brought you closer to your climax.

“Fuck, I’m close—”

He pulled away, licking his lips and gazing down at you.

“Hoseok—”

“You taste better than I remembered,” he commented. “But I want you to cum around me.”

God, I love his dirty talk.

You watched him take off his clothes. He must've been working out because he was more toned than six months ago.

He was about to line himself up with your entrance, but you stopped him with your foot on his chest.

You smirked. “Not yet, baby.”

You stood up. “Sit.”

Hoseok sat on the bed, your roles shifting.

“But I want—”

You interrupted his beg with your hand around his erect cock. He appeared to be speechless as you run your hand up and down his shaft.

“Hm?” You asked, chuckling lightly at how easy it was to make him submit. “What do you want, baby?”

“I-I wanted,” he stuttered, thrusting slightly into your hand, “to cum inside you.”

“Is that so?” You questioned, pulling your hand away.

Despite his vocalized want, he whined when you pulled away.

“I’m only doing what my baby wants,” you shrugged. “Condoms are in the bottom drawer on the right.”

Hoseok dashed over to the bedside table, rummaging for the condoms.

“Those should fit you, right?”

"Yes," he replied, opening the familiar wrapper and unravelling it on his erect member.  

He stood there for a minute, wrapped penis and naked, just fondly looking at your nude figure.

He whispered something under his breath.

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” Hoseok blushed. “You still want to fuck?”

“Yes.”

“Top or bottom?”

“Top please,” you smiled.

Hoseok laid down on your bed, and you climbed onto his torso.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he cursed as you moved off his abs and onto his cock.

A wet puddle was left on his abdomen, which he wiped away with his fingers, then putting said fingers into his mouth.

“So good,” he groaned.

You hummed in response, slowly sinking onto him.

"Fuck, you feel so good," you said when you bottomed out.

You started moving, swaying your hips back and forth. Each time Hoseok's cock would graze against your g-spot.

His hands were placed on your hips, guiding you on him. You could feel yourself clenching around him and your climax building up.

“I-I’m close,” you stuttered.

Hoseok swallowed, “Me too.”

“Ch-choke me,” you requested as you picked up your pace.

Hoseok grinned. “Only if you choke me back.”

You chuckled and rolled your eyes. Hoseok gently wrapped his hand around your neck, and you did the same, slowly applying pressure.

You felt your thighs burn from exhaustion. "F-fuck me," you cursed, slowing down.

Both of you let go of each other's neck, and Hoseok flipped you two over, still inside you.

"It's okay," Hoseok assures before resuming the pace.

His thrusts were rough and deep, and he pushed your thighs against your chest.

“Fuck, please keep going,” you begged.

“Can I choke you?” Hoseok asked.

“Please,” you replied, “do you want me to choke you too?”

“Yes,” Hoseok responded.

You felt yourself rhythmically clench around him. Hoseok must’ve realized because he began thrusting faster into you.

The room was filled with unholy noises. You could hear the wet sounds of your entrance and the impact of Hoseok’s hips against your core.

“Fuck don’t stop,” you choked out.

The knot building up in your abdomen unravelled, and pleasure and relaxation spread through your body. Your core gripped onto Hoseok like a vice.

“H-Hoseok,” you stammered, your core overstimulated.

“I-I want you to squirt,” he replied, continuing his firm thrusts.

“Oh,” you moaned.

He pounded deeper into your core, to the point where you could feel his tip ram against your cervix.

“Ah!” You screamed, feeling yourself gush around him.

“Fuck, so good,” Hoseok groaned. “I-I’m cumming.”

You felt the condom fill up inside you, and you felt disappointed that his cum couldn’t coat your walls.

His thrusts slowed down, and he stood still for a few moments.

When he pulled out, you shivered with oversensitivity. You knew that your sheets would be a mess and weren't looking forward to cleaning them when Hoseok left.

You looked up at the ceiling, breathless, while you heard Hoseok walk away from the bed.

“Where do you put your towels?” He asked.

“In the hallway, in the closet beside the dryer and washing machine.” You replied.

You heard him walk into the hallway and the closet door open and close. “Thanks,” he said. “And your bedsheets?”

“The closet in my room.”

You heard him walk back into your room, open your walk-in closet that led into your bathroom, and shuffle around. The tap ran in your bathroom for a couple seconds, then the sound of Hoseok wringing out something.

You began to sit up, but he hushed you to lie back down.

“Just relax,” he soothed, placing the clean bedsheets on your bedside table and walking over to you with a damp cloth.

“You don’t have to—”

He placed a hand on your thigh. “It’s okay,” he reassured.

You two exchanged a quick smile before Hoseok began to clean you up.

“You didn’t even cum on me,” you chuckled as he gently wiped your inner thighs.

“I know,” he replied, “but I still made you messy.”

When your thighs were no longer covered in your cum, you two changed your bedsheets.

“You good sleep in the same bed?” You asked while folding over your duvet.

“Sure,” He smiled.

You walked into your closet. "There should be some clothes that fit you. I usually wear men's clothes at home, anyways. It's crazy how great the quality men's clothes are compared to women's clothes." You picked out a t-shirt and sweatpants and tossed them at Hoseok.

He caught them, “Thanks.”

You two showered separately and spent the time getting ready together dancing to tunes.

If someone were to walk into the room, it wouldn’t look or smell like you two just had sex. You two looked like close friends having a dance party before going to bed.

Again, after you two had sex the first time, you both agreed to stay friends. It was easier said than done.

It was awkward initially, but you both were able to get past that by talking it through. Hoseok would ask how you felt during sex and what could have been better, and you would return the question.

Now, you both were able to have a good time and intimately learn more about each other.

Sure, it was strange, but it was a mutual agreement between consenting adults and fun.

The sex was fun—great, really—and you couldn’t have it any other way.

But you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t feel like something was missing.

.

.

“Good morning, everyone,” you greeted your fellow designers, “this is Hoseok. If you don’t know him already, he’s a well-known musician and one of my closest friends.”

Everyone welcomed Hoseok with a warm round of applause.

“Thank you, it’s a pleasure to be here.” Hoseok thanked.

“Hoseok will be helping out here and there while he’s vacationing here for a month,” you explained, “so take it easy on him.”

People shared chuckles at your joke.

"Anyways, let's start looking over the design ideas. You all are very talented artists, and I want you to remember that this is a draft, which means that these ideas are not final. If your idea is rejected, it's okay. We'll continue to work on a collective theme for the show."

The morning was spent listening to everyone's design concepts. To follow your reputation, the designs were contained within suits and gowns. As mentioned before, the theme was Vancouver's nature, where the fashion show would be taking place.

You and your design team used the recycled fabrics—which were separated by colours, textures, and materials—while figuring out your drafts.

You asked your design team to draft some ideas because you couldn't think of anything to present.

You were pleasantly surprised that your whole team had ideas that you approved.

“This a phenomenal,” you awed, “Great job, Erinn.”

“Actually,” you grabbed the attention of the other team members, “you all did a great job. We will be using all these ideas for the show.”

Your team shared cheers.

“Y/N,” Rachel nudged your shoulder, “I’m sorry to ask, but now that we’ve got the designs all in order, what about the models? You wanted to have various body types, right?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got that covered,” you whispered back.

You turned back to your design team. "You all know that this show is tougher than our last one because we are trying to include more body types, genders, races, just different kinds of people. Which means that we will need to cater our clothes to the models, rather than the other way around.” You smiled, “So you all can go home for the next week.”

You heard Rachel choke on her inhale.

"Although you all have the week off, I want you all to try drawing your designs on other body types. Experiment with materials and colours. Remember to take some of the recycled fabrics home with you, and feel free to come in to pick anything up. Just let Rachel and I know in advance, and we'll give notice to the front desk so they can let you in. When we reconvene in a week, which would be next Friday at nine-thirty, I need you all to be ready to translate your designs, colours, and materials to our models." You ordered.

“Any questions?”

Comfortable silence amongst everyone.

You nodded. "Awesome. Good luck, everyone. Contact me if you have any questions."

Your team started packing up.

“Y/N, does that mean we’re spending the next week casting?” Rachel asked.

“Yes, Rachel. Please contact Westly and schedule lunch tomorrow at noon to discuss modelling criteria. It’s probably going to be pretty loose, but we need to contact Westly before sending it out.” You answered. “If he’s not free at that time, try figuring out something later tomorrow. Then book a reservation for three at Romeo’s.”

“Alright, on it,” Rachel replied.

You turned to Hoseok, who seemed shocked.

“What?” You blushed.

He continued his surprised expression. “I haven’t seen you like this before.”

You chuckled. “How else are you supposed to run a company and organize and execute a fashion show in 3 months?”

Rachel tapped you on the shoulder. "Westly can do lunch tomorrow, at noon, at Romeo's. He and his team secured the venue with Vancouver Fashion Week and are currently collaborating with the interior designers to figure out how the place will look. West said he'll debrief you tomorrow, at lunch, about the rest of the progress."

You smiled. “Great! Thank you, Rachel. You can also take the rest of the day off.”

Rachel appeared to be stunned, not responding to your words.

You waved a hand in front of her face. “Rachel? You can take the rest of the day off.”

“Are you sure, Y/N?” She asked.

You chuckled, “I wouldn’t be telling you to if I wasn’t sure, would I?”

She gave it a thought. “I guess not.”

You grinned. “Just meet me at our main building tomorrow, at eleven-thirty, and we’ll go to Romeo’s together.”

Rachel nodded. “Thank you, Y/N,”

“No worries,” you smiled.

You and Hoseok watched her leave, leaving you two alone in the studio.

“I’m sorry, it passed my mind. You’re okay not joining us for lunch tomorrow, right?” You asked Hoseok.

He dismissed your apology by brushing a hand through the air, “It’s all good. You’ve got your shit to do.” He smiled, “It gives me time to tour around a bit, anyways.”

“Good,” you replied. “So, where to?”

You pulled apart the croissant, eating pieces one at a time. The butteriness covered your tongue in a warmth that mixed well with the iced coffee you and Hoseok shared.

The park was surprisingly empty, despite it being a Friday. Usually, it would be tough to find a spot decently away from others, mostly shaded by trees.

The inlet was a few meters away, allowing you two to see sailboats pass by. People also kayaked and canoed, and you could hear their laughter faintly on land.

Here, you and Hoseok would be shielded by looming trees and away from potential fans of Hoseok. It was a rarity to have those two things when spending time with Hoseok: privacy and security—peace and quiet.

“This is what you wanted to do?” You asked, finishing off the croissant.

He nodded, sipping the iced coffee. “Yeah. It’s quiet and nice here.”

You two people watched, enjoying the breeze and serene environment.

“I was thinking,” you cleared your throat, “about last night. Did you enjoy it?”

Hoseok set down the iced coffee. “Yeah. I always like hanging out with you.”

“I mean—the sex.”

He seemed shocked by your question.

“Yeah, that was good too. Why do you ask? You never brought up before.” He pointed out.

Because I am growing feelings for my childhood friend, who I now have sex with for fun. This wasn't a part of the agreement, I know. We agreed to not grow feelings for each other and just have sex for pleasure. But it's inevitable to develop feelings for someone you have sex for, right? Like, there are probably people out there that can distinguish sex from love—and I guess it started out like that—but for us?

Am I crazy?

“No reason,” you sighed. “I just wanted to know if there was anything I could have done better.”

Hoseok turned his body to you, smiling. “It was perfect.”

He gestured with his arms for a hug, and you obliged. His cologne smelt of freshly peeled oranges; it was a pleasant fragrance, and you found yourself snuggling closer.

.

.

The past month went by in a busy blur.

The model casting went well. You and Westley found fantastic individuals to present your clothing line, which was in the process of being altered to fit those people.

The venue was secured, and the guest list was being made by You and Westley.

“Maybe invite Hoseok,” Westley suggested.  

You shook your head, “I can’t.”

"Why not?" He retorted. "The worse thing he could say is 'no,' and you can invite the whole band." He giggled. "Maybe I can meet Jimin in person."

You chuckled, “So that’s why you want me to invite Hoseok. Just because you made eye contact with Jimin for more than five seconds, it doesn’t mean that he’s into you. He’s straight.”

“How do you know?” Westley had a hand firmly on his hip.

“W-well, I haven’t asked him personally—”

"Then you can't assume he's straight!" Westley exclaimed. "The baseline isn't being heterosexual."

“True. Anyways, let’s get back to the guest list.” You chewed on your lip. “We have Harry Styles, BLACKPINK, Lizzo…”

Both of you ran down the list of a thousand attendees to the show in Vancouver. It was way smaller than fashion week or any of your previous shows, but it wasn't meant to be a big party.

Y/N [14:00]: Hey! Are you free and the boys on March 1st at 1 pm for about four hours, including an after-party until 10 pm, with food?

Hoseok [14:30]: Hiiiiii!! Sorry for the late text. I was asking the others. Yeah! That’s in 4 months? 🧐

Y/N [14:31]: Yeah, it’s for my fashion show. You can ask your company for that time? We’d provide the plane tickets and accommodation. You’d probably stay 3 days and 2 nights? You’d fly in the first day, sleep the one night, then attend the show the second day, sleep the second night, and fly out the 3rd day. I’ll need to know by the end of the week.

Hoseok [14:32]: Sounds good!!! I’ll ask my managers and let you know 👊

Y/N [14:33]: Awesome! Thanks 💚

Hoseok [14:33]: Np 💚

“So, Hoseok and the boys can come, but he has to confirm with his managers. He’ll let me know soon.” You relayed to Westley.

"Great! As long as we get confirmation from Hoseok at the end of this week, we can send out the invitations. We've checked with everyone's management, and they all seem to be busy. Worse comes to worst; we'll just have to move seats around." Westley advised.

He closed his laptop, and you followed.

“Alright, that seems to be all of the guest list business. I’ll get my team to start organizing plane tickets and accommodation.” He sighed, “shall we head to the studio to check on the design team?”

“Yes,” you replied.

Both of you were driven to the studio to check on the design team.

The studio was filled with models of various shades and shapes. Music played quietly in the background, and your coworkers and models grooved to the tunes. Designers pinned fabrics around people’s figures and sketched down measurements and ideas.

You and Westley went around checking on everyone, making sure gowns and suits were well in progress. A smaller group of people created ideas for shoes and were sending them out to shoemakers.

The rest of the day was spent getting to know the models, fixing measurements, finalizing some ideas, and briefing everyone about the plan for the next two months.

"Please have the gowns, suits, and shoes by the end of this month so we can start having the makeup artists consult all of you; to make sure the makeup correlates with the clothes and the models." You informed. "Thank you, everyone, for your amazing work."

Scattered “thank you”s responded, and our workday was over.

“You want to get some drinks?” Westley nudged.

You nodded, frankly too tired to answer but eager for a drink.

Both of you decided to walk to the high-class bar, which allowed private areas in the back for paying customers. You and Westley sat alone, away from the crowds of people near the entrance of the bar.

“To having a productive three months,” Westley sang, holding up his martini.

You sighed, “Cheers,” you tapped your peach Bellini glass against his, admitting a chime.

"Fuck," Westley cursed at the sip of his drink, "they're always stronger than I remember. "Anyways, the show is pretty much underway. Guestlist is handled, the venue is prepped and ready for us, the clothing is almost done. Oooo, I can’t wait to see it all together.”

You nodded.

“You don’t seem so excited, Y/N.”

“I am,” you replied.

“But?”

“I am excited.” You affirmed, although not living up to the word

Westley silenced, knowing when not to push your buttons.

He took a careful sip of his martini. “Where’s Hoseok?”

You fidgeted with your glass. "Hoseok went back to Korea. He only had a month of vacay, so," you left the sentence adrift.

“Did you enjoy his company?”

“Can we not talk about him right now? I rather not mix work and personal life.” You stated.

Westley acknowledged with a firm nod, finishing off his martini and asking for another.

“May I ask a question?”

“Sure.” You replied.

He cringed. “But if I ask, promise me you won’t fire me.”

You turned to him. “Depends on your question. You have to ask me first, then I can decide whether or not to fire you. I cannot make promises.”

“Why are you so off all of a sudden?” He genuinely asked.

You took a deep breath. “I’m not going to fire you, not for a long time. You’re my best worker, and I can’t let you go.”

"I feel like there's going to be a 'but' somewhere. Might as well rip off the Band-Aid." Westley sighed.

You nodded, “You’re right. And you’re right about my mood. I’ve been kind of off lately.”

“Because of Hoseok?”

"Yeah, to be honest." You admitted. "I feel like we're really close—more than just friends. We're on the same wavelength, you know? And whenever we're apart for a long time and then meet up again, it's like time has passed."

“And let me guess, you haven’t told him because you’re afraid to ruin your friendship.”

You scoffed. “There’s no need for sarcasm, West.”

He rolled his eyes and sighed. “I’m just saying, it’s the oldest narrative in the book. One friend is falling for the other, and that one friend doesn’t want to confess their feelings because they’ve known the other person for years and are afraid of ruining that connection.” He took a sip of his martini. “But in the end, it’s two friends just pining over their feelings of love for each other.”

“But we’re different.” You argued.

"I guess so. The narrative doesn't really specify one friend is a famous fashion designer and the other being a famous musician—"

“I mean,” you interrupted, “we have sex every time we see each other.

Westley's mouth fell open in a silent gasp. His hand was placed on his chest, and his eyes stared into yours.

He tipped back his martini into his mouth, finishing it off. “Well, you didn’t mention the friends with benefits part.”

“I know!” You groaned. “That’s why it’s so complicated.”

"Is it really, though? Wouldn't confessing your feelings after you two have had sex so much make it slightly easier? Because it makes sense to grow feelings for someone you've known for a while and have had sex with on multiple occasions." Westley speculated.

“I didn’t say we had sex on multiple occasions—”

“Honey,” he began, “you said you’ve had sex with him every time you see each other, and you two meet a lot. It doesn’t take a detective to figure it out.”

"Anyways," he digressed, "the sooner you tell him, the better. There's no use debating over it for years, then finding out he's found someone else when he would've picked you anyways."

"Gosh, when you say it like that, it sounds like a romantic movie." You cringed, finishing your peach Bellini.

He shrugged. “Well, it kinda is.”

You chuckled. “Well, thanks for the advice.”

“Thank you for filling me in,” he smiled.

.

.

The week went by fast. Your design team was still working on alterations, so you were left brainstorming hair and makeup and contacting specialists in those fields.

You were sitting at home, knee-deep in Pinterest boards when your phone buzzed.

You stopped strolling through your laptop and peered down.

Hoseok [19:30]: We can come to your show!

Y/N [19:30]: Fantastic! I'll let my team know, and we’ll send out the invites.

You texted Westley, informing him that BTS could attend the show.

Westley [19:33]: Great! I'll let the rest of the team know, and we'll send the emails out tomorrow

Y/N [19:34]: Thanks!

Westley [19:35]: Np

You set down your phone and continued to add ideas to your private Pinterest board.

Your phone buzzed again.

Hoseok [19:55]: What are you doing right now?

You were puzzled.

Y/N [19:56]: Nothing much, just brainstorming ideas for the show. You?

Hoseok [19:57]: Just chilling in my room.

Hoseok [20:05]: I miss you

You chuckled at the text, thinking that Hoseok was drunk.

Y/N [20:05]: I miss you too, Hobi.

Hoseok [20:08]: …how much?

Again, you were puzzled by his text.

Y/N [20:10]: Wdym? I miss having you here? Is that what you mean?

Hoseok [20:11]: I mean, do you miss me intimately?

Y/N [20:14]: Like sex-wise?

Hoseok [20:14]: Fuck, I need you, Y/N.

You stared at his words.

Hoseok [20:18]: I miss your body and how perfectly you fit around me.

Your cheeks flushed.

Hoseok [20:21]: Can you video chat? Unless you’re not in the mood.

You panicked.

You were in the mood but weren't presentable. Your hair was messy, and you weren't wearing any makeup, and you were dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants.

Y/N [20:23]: Yeah, I’m in the mood. Just give me 5 mins.

You quickly got out of your seat and ran to your bedroom. You sifted through your closet and found the sexist clothing item you had: a red lingerie set. You quickly undressed and put on the set.

You looked into your full-length mirror and tried not to cringe. Your hair was a mess, and you weren’t wearing any makeup. It definitely looked like Hoseok's text came out of nowhere—and it did, but you somehow expected yourself to be decently presentable.

However, the lingerie set was doing you favours. The set was composed of a crotchless thong and a bralette that exposed your nipples.

Y/N [20:28]: I’m ready.

Your phone rang, and you answered, quickly propping it on your drawers across from your bed.

You were faced with a shirtless Hoseok, his cock already in his hand.

“Fuck, you look amazing.” He complimented breathlessly.

“Wow, you’re ahead of the game—and really? I’m a mess.” You chuckled.

He hissed, flinching in his grip. “Fuck, just take the compliment, Y/N.”

You cleared your throat. “Thank you.”

You sat a pit forward, angling your breasts towards the camera.

“What are you imagining, baby?” You purred.

“Y-You,” he stuttered, moving his hand up and down his cock.

“Mhm,” you moaned, “thinking up my pussy clenching around your cock, making it all wet.”

He nodded.

"You can do something if you want," he suggested. "You said you were in the mood."

Your eyes opened wide. “Wait a minute.”

You brought the phone with you on your journey, going back to your closet and fetching your dildo, lube, and vibrator. You hurried to the bathroom and propped your phone up against the closed door.

You suctioned the bottom of the dildo onto the titled floor. You placed the vibrator on the bathroom counter.

“You want to watch me bounce on this dildo and think of you?” You smirked, rubbing lube onto your hands, onto the toy, and onto your vagina.  

“Fuck, yes,” he replied, stilling his hand around his cock for a moment.

“Did I say you could stop?” You spat.

“I’m waiting for you,” he smiled, making your heart melt.

You paused over the dildo, smiling back at him. “Awww, that’s actually kinda sweet. Thank you.”

You quickly washed your hands and grabbed the vibrator.  

You crouched down and slowly onto the dildo.

“Fuck,” you moaned, tilting your head back at the feeling of being filled up. It didn’t hit the spots Hoseok did, but it was good enough.

You lifted yourself up and sunk back down again, rhythmically repeating the motion.

“Fuck, so good,” you sighed, overlooking the pain in your knees.

“That's right, baby, imagine me filling that pussy up," Hoseok groaned, following your rhythm while pumping his cock.

“Fuck yes,” you replied, “and I’m clenching around you so tight.”

You two exchanged moans at the sound of your pussy squelching around the dildo.

“Use the vibrator, baby,” Hoseok purred.

You hummed, grabbing the rose gold vibrator and turning it on. You place the buzzing toy on your clit, feeling pleasure rippling through your core.

“Fuck,” you hissed, speeding up your pace a bit.

“I-I’m getting close.”

“Yeah, baby?” Hoseok smirked. “You get off at me rubbing my cock? Imagining me buried inside your pussy, making you feel so good?"

You nodded. “But it’s not as you, baby.”

“I know—” He choked, appearing to be on the brink of his climax. “I fucking miss the way your pussy fit so well around me, no matter how many times I fucked you open.”

“Mhm,” you bit your lips, watching him with hooded eyes. “Don’t stop.”

“Who knew you were filthy enough to cum during cybersex?" He observed. "I'm not even there to touch you, but just thinking of me inside has you in ruins.”

“What would you do if I was with you right now?” You asked.

“I would fuck you until you couldn’t walk the next day,” he replied, “I’d fuck you until that pretty pussy is swollen.”

"F-fuck, I'm going to cum," you stuttered, feeling the familiar build-up in your core.

“M-me too,” he stammered.

You watched his head tilt back in pleasure and his cum squirt up from his cock.

“Fuck!” You cursed, feeling your pleasure shoot out of your core and onto the floor

“So hot,” Hoseok sighed.

You chuckled, coming down from high. You pulled yourself up and off the dildo, sitting on the cool tile floor.

“Fuck, did you squirt?” He asked, looking closer.

You nodded, gesturing to the mess on the ground.

“Spread your legs for me, baby,” he commanded and obliged, showing him your battered cunt.

You spread your lips, and he hummed at sight.

“So beautiful.” He awed.

“You happy? I need to wipe this all up, now,” you scoffed.

He chuckled. “It’s not my fault that you cummed.” He angled his phone to the floor, showing splashes of his cum on the floor, "and besides, you also made me make a mess.”

You both chatted while cleaning up your messes, talking about your days as if nothing happened. After finishing your clean-up, you two continued your conversation while showering, as if both of you were doing it together.

Ready to relax for the night, both of you signed off with exchanged ‘thanks’ and ‘good night.’

You turned off your phone with a soft click and stepped out of the steamy bathroom. Your pyjamas were soft on your skin, and you felt ready to go to bed.

Hopping onto your bed, you grabbed your laptop and turned on some Netflix to fall asleep to.

From an outsider’s perspective, masturbating with your best friend and then casually talking with them while showering and getting ready for bed was odd. Repeating the scenario in your mind did make it sound like you two were in a long-distance romantic relationship rather than a platonic one.

But you and Hoseok were different. That was your excuse.

A friend could do this and not catch feelings. You two were the perfect example of that.

Emphasis on were because you were currently spiralling in your growing romantic feelings for Hoseok.

But what would you do in this situation?

You and your childhood friend engage in sex one time and promise each other to not grow feelings. In this manner, you two could have sex without attachment. Fast forward into the future, and you both are still making this arrangement with no negative consequences and feel like you two have gotten to know each other better and have become better friends—until you catch feelings. And you don’t want to risk losing this relationship you two have.

Because he is a worldwide musician who can’t be tied down because it could risk his career, and he might lose fans—and you couldn't be bothered with any romantic commitment with your fast-paced and unpredictable work schedule.

So, you stay in this unnameable mess.

.

.

“Time flies by when you’re having fun,” Allie commented from the plush couch.

You looked in the mirror, twisting your back towards it to see the back of the dress. “I guess so.”

“You have to admit, planning a fashion show is pretty fun,” she said. “If it wasn’t, you wouldn’t be doing it over and over again.”

“True,” you replied, turning to the stylist.

“May I see the other dress?” You asked, and the stylist nodded, retreating to somewhere in the shop you couldn’t see.

It was the last month until the show. Everything was in order: the show’s venue and its decorations, the clothes, makeup and hair for the models, and the guests’ accommodation. Now, it was your turn to find suitable attire for the occasion.

You tried on the next dress. It was a slim-fitting number, with a leg slit in the front. It was scandalous and stunning, but not right for the show.

“I don’t like any of these dresses,” you sighed, annoyed.

Allie appears to brainstorm some ideas.

“Maybe try a suit?” She proposed.

You kept your eyes on the mirror, twirling your figure and watching the fabric move at your feet.

“Think about it,” she began, “think of all the powerful women who’ve worn suits and killed it. Zendaya, Kristen Stewart, Blake Lively, Awkwafina. The list goes on. It’s a statement piece, and you’re the big brain behind this operation.”

“I think it’s ‘mastermind behind this operation,’ but I get what you mean.” You corrected.

“You literally bypassed my whole point—”

“I know, I know,” you interrupted. “It’s just—suits for women are so overpriced. And it’s just like the dresses, except a different fit. Same colour palettes, same materials, so on.”

Allie scoffed. "You're a fucking fashion designer, did you forget? Make your own thing. There are leftover fabrics at your studio; you have time to make something." Her face lit up, “And, technically, it’s for free.”

You gave it a thought, but the stylist came back before you could finish it.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Vega, but I’m not finding anything, and I don’t want you walking back and forth and bringing me more dresses.” You gave an apologetic smile. “Thank you very much for your help.”

"No worries, Y/N! Just hang up the dress when you take it off, and I’ll deal with the rest,” she replied.

“Will do,” you said, and she stepped out of the room.

Allie helped you unzip the gown, and you shimmed out of it. You did as you were told and hung up the dress, and you and Allie left the shop.

The walk back to the studio was quick, you two making determined strides through the crowded city.

You and Allie entered the empty studio, turning on the nights.

The studio was organized chaos with dressed mannequins, big boxes of fabrics in the back of the room, and papered patterns on the tables.

“Wow,” Allie awed.

"Yeah," you replied, leading you both to your master station is near the back, "it's crazy what a couple months before a show looks like.”

You looked through the drawers beside your desks and grabbed the tools you'll need to plan out the suit.

“So, just a suit jacket and pants…” You said, grabbing some paper to sketch up your pattern.

You looked up at Allie, “Do you mind helping me out with measurements?”

She nodded, “For sure. What do you need?”

You guided Allie on how to measure your proportions for the suit. She measured your inseams for your pants, the sleeves, the cuts, and so on. In between, you'd write down the dimensions for the patterns.

You two sifted through the fabrics to create a monochrome patchwork outfit. The suit would be shades of cherry red, with different materials making it up. There were no patterns in the patchwork, only various tones of red in several types of wool.

“Fucking hell,” Allie cursed while sifting through the materials, “who would’ve thought there were so many shades of red.”

She held up a piece of recycled fabrics, checking with you that it was the correct tone. You took it and held the portion against the others.

“Nope, too dark,” you shook your head.

"What? It looks exactly the same," she disagreed, walking over to your table. When comparing the fabrics, she made an 'aaah’ sound, letting you know that you were right.

Before sectioning off your pattern, you tried your best to evenly sew all the material together into a quilt-like form.

“Jesus,” you muttered, shaking out your sore hands.

“We don’t have to get this all done today, you know. You do have two months left.” Allie advised.

"I know. I just want to put this all together first," you replied, continuing to push the material through the sewing machine.

“Alright,” she surrendered, bringing one of the seats over to your table.

You sewed in silence for a bit.

“So,” Allie began, “how are you and Hoseok doing?”

You paused. “What do you mean?”

“You know…you two and your arrangement.”

You scoffed, “Our arrangement? You mean us having sex?”

“Yeah, but the other stuff.”

You pulled your hands from the sewing machine, crossing your arms over your chest. "Just spit it out, Al."

“Well, you’ve had mixed feelings with Hoseok, right? Like you’re starting to like him?” She speculated.

Your mouth gaped open. “Have you been talking to West?”

She didn’t respond, not making eye contact.

“You can’t be fucking serious. You two are ganging up on me!” You yelled.

“Y/N, we’re just worried.”

“About what? I have feelings—and?” You fumed.

She sighed. “You shouldn’t be having sex with someone if you’re growing romantic feelings, especially if you two agreed to be platonic.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you stood.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed. "Don't you dare talk to me that way? I am your friend, not your enemy." Allie stood up and sighed. “I get it. You don’t like people in your business. That’s fair. I just feel like you're sacrificing yourself for Hoseok when you could talk about it with him."

“Allie, you don’t know what you’re fucking talking about.” You spat.

“I get it,” she sympathized. “I don’t. I’m not you or Hoseok.”

“So, tell me,” she said. “Educate me on the situation. I am not here to judge. I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”

“It’s okay,” she forgave, “just don’t push me away so fast, okay?”

“Okay.” You agreed.

She sat down, “So?”

You sat down and rehashed your feelings about you and Hoseok to her: the growing romantic feelings for him, not knowing what to do, and wanting something more.

“Well, do you think it’d work out between you two if you dated?” She asked.

You shifted in your seat. "I honestly don't know. It's tough with Hoseok's work because he has a loyal fanbase. I'm afraid he's going to get even more hate if we were to date.”

“But would you two be happy?” She asked.

You gave it a thought. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you go into a relationship regardless of other people. Whether you’re a celebrity or an ordinary person, you date someone for you and that person; no one else. There are going to be people who support and hate your relationship no matter what. What matters is what the two people think in the relationship."

She sighed. “You cannot control what others will think about you. No matter what you do or who you do, you're going to upset someone. So, just do what feels comfortable and safe with you."

You hummed, understanding.

“So, would you be happy if you and Hoseok dated?”

“Yes.” You stated without a thought. “I really like him—love him even.”

"Then that's all that matters," Allie replied.

.

.

The week before, the show crept on you faster than you expected. You, your team of designers and event organizers, models, hairstylists and makeup artists flew into Vancouver a week early to prepare on location.

However, the majority of the week would be spent preparing for the show. The first day was spent unloading all of the outfits and equipment for the show into the venue. Everyone was required to show up to organize their stations and to familiarize themselves with the venue.

“Please set up your stations while Westley and I look into the main runway and after part section. We’ll be back in around two hours to check up on everyone. If you have any questions while we're gone, please contact me on my phone." You held up your cellphone and everyone nodded. "Great. Good luck, everyone!"

The venue and interior designers' owners toured you and Westley around the place, showing you the drawn floorplans, running down the prices, and checking that the decorations correlated with your plans.

“These weren’t the chairs we sent over,” Westley pointed to the black folded chairs lining the runways.

“Yes, but these were within the price range and—” One of the interior designers, Queeny, said.

“But did we get an email regarding this change?” You interjected.

Queeny exchanged looks with the other three decorators, and they shook their heads.

Wesley let out an angry sigh. "Well, I guess we’ll have to live with these then.” He sat down on one of the chairs. “At least they’re comfortable. They look cheap, but they’re sturdy.”

“Are there any more changes you made without informing as?” You asked.

They all shook their heads.

"Great." You turned to one of the two-venue owners, named Ruby. "Shall we continue to the after-party part?”

“Yes,” she replied, gesturing to the doorway that led to the front reception area.

From the reception area, where guests would check-in and get a wristband, a double-door way on the right led to a ballroom for the after-party.

The overall theme of the place was classic European designs with off-white luxurious walls and chandeliers. The ceilings were intricately carved, and the floors were a smooth white oak. Just walking around made you feel like you were dirtying the place.

“This place is stunning,” Westley whispered.

“I know,” you replied, “you chose the place.”

“I know,” he smiled, pretending to flip his hair.

You both chuckled, continuing to follow the owners around the venue.

Everything worked out, besides the chairs, so you and Westley checked on the designers, models, hairstylists and makeup artists.

At the end of the workday, everyone was in order and ready for the next three days of dress rehearsals and solving and problems.

You arrived back at your hotel with sore feet and exhaustion.

Your phone rang as you flopped onto your bed.

You answered. “Hobi!”

“Y/N! How was your flight to Vancouver?” He asked.

“It was good. We didn't have a rest day, though. We had to settle into the place and check it over. My feet are so sore.” You groaned.

“Really? I thought you’d at least have a rest day when you guys arrived,” he assumed.

You shook your head. “No. Sadly, this whole week will be walking around and making sure everything is going smoothly.”

He sighed. “Shit. That sucks.” You heard him shift on the other side of the phone. “Do you want to relax?”

You laughed. “Jung Hoseok, did you seriously booty call me from across the world?”

Hoseok gasped, "I did not! I was talking about watching Netflix or something." He chuckled, "You're so dirty-minded."

You both laughed.

“Okay, so what do you want to watch?” He asked on the other end of the call.

You brought out your laptop and scrolled through the movie selection.

“Oooo! Let’s watch Hush. I’ve heard so many good things about it.” You recalled.

You could hear his hesitation.

Hoseok did not like being scared. Whenever you watched anything scary, you were afraid that your neighbours would complain at how loud his screaming was. As you remembered saying "hello" to him once and him screaming in fear and surprise, he was also easily frightened.

“We don’t have to,” you said.

“No, no,” Hoseok reassured, “we’ll watch it. Just send me the Netflix Party link, and I'll ready the Zoom link."

You giggled. “You don’t have to be brave for me, Hobi. I know you don’t like scary movies.”

“You want to watch it, so let’s do it,” he said, “and the ratings are good.”

“Okay,” you digressed. “I’m texting you the link right now.”

“Same,” he replied.

You two hung up and joined the links.

“Hello!” Hoseok beamed, dancing.

You rolled your eyes and chuckled at his burst of energy. “Hello, Hobi.”

You carried your laptop to the bathroom and began getting ready for bed.

“How was your day?” You asked.

Hoseok described him and his bandmates' film day for "Run! BTS," and you groaned at all the work they had to do.

He laughed. “But we got to play games, which was fun. We laughed so much that my abs hurt.” You watched him lift up his shirt and show his toned abdomen.

Your core felt a familiar flutter.

“W-wow, that must be a lot of laughing,” you cleared your throat and took out your toothbrush and toothpaste.

For the moment, the time difference worked for you two because it was almost ten at night for you and nearly three in the afternoon for him.

“Should I turn off my camera?” You asked before undressing to get into the shower.

He shook his head. “I’m okay with you leaving it on. I’ve seen you naked before, so it’s not really different. But if you’re uncomfortable, you can just turn it off.”

You shrugged and began taking off your clothes in full view of the camera and screen.

You noticed Hoseok’s expression.

“Enjoying the show?” You chuckled, finally taking off your undergarments and fully exposing yourself.

Hoseok smirked, “Don’t act like you weren’t just turned on by my abs. I saw how you looked at me.”

You nodded and surrendered. “Fair point.”

You hoped in the shower, and you two continued talking.

“Jesus, we haven’t started the movie yet,” Hoseok commented while you were washing your hair.

“Shit, right,” you laughed, massaging the shampoo into your scalp.

After you hoped out of the shower and dried your body and hair, you both started to watch the movie.

“This is a pretty cool premise. Like, we’ve never seen a deaf person in a horror movie before,” you regarded.

"True, that's a good point—AHHHHHH!" Hoseok screamed at the sudden slam in the movie.

You burst into laughter.

“Holy shit!” He exclaimed, trying to calm himself with controlled breaths.

The movie continued as you finished off your skincare and put on your pyjamas.

The oversized t-shirt was long enough to cover your thighs.

“You’re going to watch this before bed?” Hoseok gasped.

You chuckled. “Yeah. It’s not that scary.” You say as you jump at the sound of breaking glass in the film.

Hoseok laughed at the coincidental timing.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you woke up to the sound of your alarm.

“Shit,” you grumbled and turned it off.

You heard Hoseok stir awake on the Zoom call.

Both of you had fallen asleep, but Hoseok finished the movie before you could; because you saw the end credits paused in the Netflix Party.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s okay,” Hoseok mumbled, squinting at the screen.

“I’ll let you sleep,” you smiled, hovering your cursor over the "send" button.

He softly smiled, “thank you.” He snuggled into his pillow, “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Hobi,” you replied, ending the call for both of you.

It didn’t hit you until you were halfway through your dress rehearsal, but Hoseok had stayed with you while you slept. He didn't wake you but quietly continued the movie and fell asleep.

Hoseok was usually sweet, so you didn't pay too much attention to it.

But it did make you feel special.

.

.

It was the day of the fashion show, and you were fucking nervous.

You had done this before, a show, but this one was different. You had put in so much effort and were proud of how it turned out but were afraid of what other people would think.

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Allie assured through video call,” it’ll be excellent, and everyone won’t stop talking about it.”

“Probably,” you replied, putting on your makeup.

“It will be excellent, Y/N. I am so sure I will bet money.” She stated.

You chuckled, "then I'll take your word for it because I am not bidding money.”

You both laughed.

“Okay, I know I already showed you my outfit, but are you sure it looks good?” She asked, putting on the A-line floor-length dress she’d shown you before. It was a beautiful viridian green with lace shoulder straps that draped over the sides of her biceps.

“You look beautiful,” you complimented, setting your makeup with setting spray and heading to your closet.

You put on the suit you made and looked in the mirror. You looked a bad bitch.

“You look great! Oooo, put on the red bottoms,” Allie squealed.

You put on the signature Louis Vuitton black high heels with the ruby bottoms.

Your phone buzzed.

“I got to go; Westley is here with our ride to the venue. I’ll see you there!”

“See you!” She waved, ending the call.

You did a quick check in the mirror, fixing your hair, grabbed your bags, and headed out the door.

Your driver waited outside the vehicle as you approached, and opened its door, showing you a well-dressed and excited Westley.

"Oh my god, you look great!" He gasped. “When did you make the suit?”

“I finished it a week before we flew out,” you chuckled, “and you look great too! I love the pine on you.”

You took a step back and looked at Westley’s crisp pine-coloured suit with matching brown dress shoes.

“Thank you,” he grinned. “Okay, get in before we become late.”

You hopped into the car, and your driver got in and started the vehicle.

The drive was spent recalling your opening and closing speeches with Westley and the show's agenda.

“So, five pm is when the show ends, and then the guests for the after-party go into the ballroom area. Food is served at six pm, and everything is wrapped up at ten pm.” Westley relayed.

You nodded, “Yup.”

Both of you arrived a couple hours before the start time, which was at 1 pm, to set everything up and warm up the models and crew.

Westley checked the organizers and the models while you went to the runway area to check the lights and sound.

"Let's rerun the lights, please!" You announced as you walked into the runway room. "Can I get a headset, please?" You ask the crew on the ground, who nodded.

“Yup!” You heard the lighting crew respond.

You were given the headset, and you heard the head light technician’s voice.

“Can you hear me?” They checked.

“Yes,” you confirmed.

They ran by the six light settings for the show, and it was all correct.

“It’s perfect, thank you. Can you please check that the sound is alright?” You asked through the headset.

“Yup. You’ll have to hand the headset to another person, though, and we’ll give you a mic.” They added.

You heard their muffled voice as if they covered their mic's headset with their hand. Next, you had someone hand you a mic and take your headset.

“You’ll need to stand on the stage,” The person said.

“Okay,” you replied, going to the runway and standing on the end portion.

All the room’s lights turned on, and you could see the lighting crew’s area in the back and the chair organized around the runway.

“You can speak into the mic!” You heard someone shout.

You started speaking nonsense in the mic, like the type of weather outside, as they adjusted the volume.

“Thank you!” Someone shouted.

“Thanks,” you said into the mic before handing it to one of the crew.

“Is there anything to report? Any problems that arose before I got here?” You asked the crew.

They all shook their heads.

“How is everyone feeling?” You asked.

They all shared nervous laughter, and a few people said “good.”

“Alright, if there’s anything you all need, just come to the modelling area and ask me. It’s in the backroom.”

They all nodded, and you left them to their business.

You arrived in the backroom and saw designers fitting their outfits on the models and makeup artists and hairstylists prepping their stations.

“How is everybody doing?!” You enthusiastically asked.

They cheered with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"I get it. Everyone is on their toes. You all have an hour left to set things up before people start filing in. Remember, the show starts at 1 pm. The door opens thirty minutes before them.”

They call responded with various forms of understanding, and you went around to check on them individually.

Rachel came and taped your shoulder, with a headset on, “So, the guards are in their posts, and the front is ready to check people in.”

“Is there a line already?” You asked.

Rachel pressed down the headset, asking the crew on the other end.

“Yes, there’s a line of people outside,” she reported, “about twenty people, so far.”

"Shit, yeah, let them in. It's probably cold." You ordered.

“I’ll tell them,” she replied.

“Okay, everyone! We’re starting to let people in. Again, you all have about an hour left, so try to wrap things up and relax. Thank you!” You announced.

Again, sounds of understanding, and you, Westley, and Rachel left the backroom.

“Rachel, Westley and I are going to check that the ballroom area and catering are all handled. Please check in with the front desk to see how they're doing, and then meet us in the ballroom." You told.

“Got it, Y/N,” Rachel answered, walking past the two of you and towards the front area.

Westley appeared impressed. “She's terrific. She's even got the headset and everything."

"I know, right? She's cool." You remarked.

Like clockwork, you and Westley ran over the details and schedule for the catering and the after-party. Everyone had places to sit, with elegantly decorated name cards.

Everything was ready.

"Fantastic, thank you," you thanked the caterers and the staff in the ballroom. "Feel free to come into the runway area during the show if you all would like to watch."

With that, it was about time the show would start. You and Westley hurried backstage, where you both were handed microphones.

The lights dimmed, and classical music played—fitting the theme of elegance and high class.

You and Westley regarded each other, did an excellent handshake, and strutted out on the runway. Both of you were met with applause from the crowd and blinding spotlights.

You two walked to the end of the runway and let out an exhausted sigh.

The music quieted, faintly heard in the background.

“And that’s why I’m not a model,” Westley joked, causing the crowd to giggle.

“Same here,” you chuckled.

“Anyways, welcome to the show, everyone!” You cheered, and the crowd clapped. “As you know, I am Y/N, and this is Westley. Today, we’ll be showing recycled elegant clothes on people. Not just models, but people. All the clothes you'll be seeing here today are made from recycled fabrics and hand-crafted by our design team and me."

Applause.

"We wanted to represent people, so we got people to present our clothes. Redundant, I know, but the fashion industry rarely shows models that look like people. Don’t get me wrong, they’re all fantastic. However, this show will be different. Enjoy!” Westley waved.

A final round of applause while you and Westley walked off the runway.

The show went smoothly and wonderfully. The changes were fluid, and there were no clothing mishaps. The classical music turned into upbeat music that everyone seemed to groove to. Models danced on the runway while walking, and there were joyful cheers in the crowd.

In the end, you and Westley gave your brief thank you speeches, and months of planning and work were officially completed.

When everyone was backstage, you all collectively cheered.

“Phenomenal job, everyone!” You praised. “I am speechless at how well we all did. Thank you all for being such wonderful people to work with.”

Smiles and cheers were shared as everyone got ready for the after-party.

“Okay, remember that food is being served at six o’clock, and you all will be able to find your names at a table.” You reminded.

You and Westley did a quick check-up on people before heading to the ballroom area to socialize.

“Great job, you two!” Some complimented.

You and Westley thanked the praise and had a small talk with some colleges.

“Hey, Y/N!” You heard a familiar voice say.

You turned and say Hoseok with the rest of the boys, waving.

“Hey!” You smiled, nudging Westley to join you.

"Well, enjoy the after-party," Westley grinned at the other guests before joining you.

As always, the seven boys were well-dressed in designer suits. Hoseok wore lightly tinted shades paired with a dark suit and floral dress shirt. His hair was wavy.

“That was awesome, Y/N,” Namjoon said.

“Thank you!” You replied.

“Yeah, Y/N, I loved the recycled-fabrics idea. Are anything on sale?” Taehyung asked.

You nodded. "Everything will be on sale next month. I'll send you the dates, so you mark them in your calendar. The clothes go fast," you chuckled.

“Damn,” Taehyung remarked, eyebrows raised.

“Hey, Jimin,” Westley greeted.

“Hey West,” Jimin smiled, “loved your speech today. That suit looks great on you.”

“I know,” Westley smirked, “you look good too.”

"How are you feeling?" Hoseok asked, letting Westley and Jimin casually flirt.

You sighed. “Glad that it’s over, to be honest. It was fun, of course, but it's a lot of work to organize."

“Oh my god, is that Charlie Puth?” Jungkook gasped, hiding slightly behind Namjoon.

Everyone laughed.

"You should go and say 'hi,' Kook. You've already met and sung with him before. You two are practically friends." Yoongi expressed.

“True,” you agreed, “and Charlie’s a nice guy.”

“Okay,” Jungkook straightened his posture, “I’ll do it.”

You all watched Jungkook walk over and begin chatting with Charlie Puth.

“God, he’s grown up so much,” Seokjin sighed.

The rest of you caught up and chatted about the show.

Before you knew it, Westley was poking your side to let you know it was five minutes until six.

“Shit,” you cursed. “Sorry to cut this convo short, but Westley and I have to announce dinner. We’ll talk soon!”

You all said your goodbyes, and you and Westley went up to the front to state it was time for food.

You two were seated with Rachel, Allie, and a couple others. Everyone ordered off a menu, which served various kinds of pasta, salads, and a mix of alcoholic and non-alcoholic beverages.

It was an excellent way to end off the show.

There was a dancefloor, too, where people could groove to music after eating.

Of course, the seven boys went to the dancefloor, which caused others to join.

You were finishing off your fettuccine alfredo when Hoseok danced over to your table. You chuckled as he held his hand out and quirked a brow.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, taking his hand.

“You love it,” he smirked, pulling you off your chair and leading you to the dancefloor.

You danced together, along with your friends. He held your hands as you two swayed to the slow songs and body-rolled with you during the upbeat songs. Of course, a few BTS songs played, and everyone tried to follow the known choreography. You went back to your table for a drink of water, and Allie came with you. "Look, and you and Hoseok dancing up a storm," she teased. “Shut up,” you chuckled. “The chemistry is there, Y/N,” she commented. You drank your water. "Not now, Al." “Come on! He’s here for, what, the night and then gone tomorrow morning? When will you see him again?” She asked. You paused, honestly unsure when you'd see Hoseok again. “Now or never, Y/N. How much longer can you debate this?” “I know,” you replied. “I’ll do it later tonight.” Around nine-thirty, the party was dying down, with only a few guests scattered around the venue helping to clean up. You made eye contact with Allie, who was tending to the chairs, who nudged towards Hoseok’s direction. Now or never. You said in your head. “Can I speak to you, Hoseok?” You asked, walking up to him. “For sure!” He replied. You led both of you to a secluded part of the venue, away from listeners. “Did you enjoy the show?” You asked. “Yeah! You did a fantastic job, Y/N. I love how everything turned out, the colours, the recycled fabrics were great—and your suit! I can’t believe you made it,” Hoseok complimented, stepping back to look at your attire. “Thank you,” you blushed. You gave a quick look around to make sure no one was around. “Is everything alright, Y/N? You’re looking around as if they’re spies around.” He gasped. “Are there spies around? What secret don’t they know?” “I don’t want to have sex with you anymore.” You abruptly stated. A stretch of silence. Hoseok’s expression was a mixture of surprise and concern. “What?” “I can’t have sex with you anymore.” “You can’t or don’t want to? Is it something I did?” “Yes? No? In a way?” You pondered. You took a few deep breaths. "I like you, Hoseok—possibly even love you.” You ran your hand through your hair. “I know we agreed not to catch feelings, so I think we should stop having sex.” You watched his expression shift from some form of being happy to disappointment. “You know I cannot date with work,” he explained, "with the fans, touring, and whatnot, I cannot date someone. And you have your company to work on." “I know,” you replied. “But do you like me back?” You asked. “I do—” “You do?” You were on the verge of hugging him, but he stepped back. You looked at him, confused. “We can’t—” “Why?” “I literally just told you, Y/N. With work, dating wouldn’t allow it. I already have people—” He choked on his words. “People who wish I was dead, j-just for being me.” “Hoseok—” You reached out to him, but he gently pushed you away. “No,” he objected, “I’m fine. I just don’t want to add you to the mess.” “You can’t decide that for me.” You retorted. “I understand that you don’t want to add me to it, but I’m okay with it. I don't care what other people would say about us. They're not in the relationship, we are—" “But what if I care?” He said, almost too quiet for you to hear. “I’m the happy guy of BTS, who’s dedicated to his work.” “But are you truly happy?” You peered into him. “Yeah,” he replied, avoiding eye contact, “but it gets really hard sometimes.” “So, let me help, Hoseok,” you pleaded. "I don't need to be helped! I'm not another project for you to work on.” He thundered. “You know that’s not what I meant.” You seethed. “Let’s just drop it, okay? We’re not dating, that’s it.” He dictated. “Fine.” You replied. “Have a safe trip back home.” You left without another word, trying your best not to cry. Out of all the ways you thought he'd respond, this took you off guard. Hoseok wasn't one to push you away, but here he was doing so. “Fuck this,” you whimpered, walking up to Allie. “I’m going back to the hotel, sorry,” you said, turning away as soon as possible. “Y/N!”

You washed your face and hoped into the shower—the warm water soothing your sore muscles and emotions. You couldn’t tell if it was the water or your tears streaming down your face.

What else did you expect? Hoseok had a point: with his work, he couldn’t date someone. And it was ridiculous that Hoseok would want to date you.

However, instead of sulking over Hoseok, you decided to have a bath and put on a facemask.

The room’s phone rang while you were starting the bath.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Y/N Y/L/N?

“Speaking,” you confirmed.

“Great! There’s a man here, named,” a muffled noise, “Hoseok Jung.”

“Tell him I’m busy, please,” you replied.

Another muffled noise. “Hoseok says he's sorry and that he has ice cream—cookie dough. But if he’s dangerous, I can call the police.”

“No, no. God no,” you said.

You bit your lip. "You can send Hoseok up."

“Okay. However, if there’s anything wrong, please try to press the red button on the receiver. I will check back with you in an hour. If there’s no response, I’ll get someone to check on you.” They informed.

“Thank you,” you replied, slightly shocked by their concern.

You hung up.

A few minutes later, you heard a knock on the door. You tightened your robe.

You checked the peephole before cracking the door open.

“Hi,” you greeted.

“Hey," he smiled. "I'm sorry for leaving you like that at the party. It was sudden and insensitive. I should have been more considerate of your feelings rather than shutting you off.”

“I was just—scared. I don’t know what it’s going to be like for us. And I don't want you to fix me—but I like you, a lot—so I brought cookie dough ice cream and two spoons—"

“Do you want to come in?” You interrupted his nervous rambling.

“Yes, thank you,” he chuckled.

Hoseok still wore the suit from the fashion show, but his jacket was folded over his arm, and his dress shirt was unbuttoned lower.

“Oh, you’re running the bath,” he noticed. "We can deal with this later if it's a bad time."

“No, it’s alright. I’ll just turn off the water.” You replied, going to the bathroom to do so.

When you came back, Hoseok was sitting on the edge of your bed.

“So, what did you want to talk about?” You asked, sitting beside him.

He opened the ice cream tub, setting the lid on the desk and handing you one of the spoons.

“I was thinking you could talk more, actually; about how you feel," he replied, giving you the tub and angling himself to face you. "I just want to listen to you this time."

You gave a brief smile before spooning a small piece of ice cream into your mouth.

“Well, I just feel like we’re in this grey area of being really close but having sex. And we both like each other, and we said at the venue, and I just feel like we should just date then.” You set the ice cream and spoon down on the desk. “I get that work complicates things for you. But once we’ve confessed our feelings, I just don’t know what to call this—this friendship?”

Hoseok nodded.

"So, if you don't want to date, that's completely fine. I understand. However, we can't keep having sex like we used to; because I have feelings for you now, and you said you do too, so it's not a good mix."

“That’s fair,” he acknowledged.

“But what do you think? Like, how do you feel about us?” You asked.

He paused and set his spoon on the desk with yours. “I want to date you, Y/N. I just don’t want to get you hurt.” He softly grasped your hands. “The industry can be toxic, and I don’t want to subject you to that.”

“I understand,” you replied, “but I want to date you too, regardless of all the other bullshit. As cheesy as it sounds, all I want is you, Hoseok.”

Hoseok smiled but then pretended to gag.

“Hobi! I was romantic."

“Sorry, but that was so cheesy.” He cringed.

“So, do you want to just start dating, then?” You proposed. “We have the ice cream here; we can pretend to get to know each other more.”

He chuckled. “Sure. Let’s do that.”

Hoseok stood up and held his hand out to you. “Y/N Y/L, will you go on a date with me?”

You laughed but composed yourself. “I would love to, Jung Hoseok.” You took his hand, and he immediately sat back down.

“So, Y/N,” Hoseok began, handing you the partially melted ice cream and your spoon, “what do you like to do on the weekends?”

.

.

1 year later.

“I’m thinking of moving to Korea,” you said. Hoseok turned to you, surprised. “Really? But you’re not based here.” “I know,” you acknowledged, “but I can fly in and skype, or whatever. I can have a home base here, too.” You were visiting Hoseok for a couple weeks before you had to go back home for a clothing launch. Both of you were cuddling at his place when you brought up your idea of moving to Korea. “Of course, it wouldn’t be immediate. I would need to sort things out with Westley and Rachel and organize a place to stay here and a work area. The company is sturdy enough to handle the change.” You reasoned. “You could move in with me,” he suggested, turning his body to face you. “Are you sure?” “Yeah, why not. We’ve been dating for a while now, and it makes sense.” He shrugged. “Unless you don’t want to.” You kissed him. “No, I want to.” Both of you discussed what your move would be like and imagined living together. If you were to look back at how your relationship with Hoseok progressed, you would be shocked. In a matter of a few months, you and Hoseok went from friends to romantic partners. Although you had not come out publicly about your relationship, many people had a sense it existed; but that didn’t matter. You and Hoseok were in a secure and healthy relationship. It was long distanced, but you two made it work by visiting each other when you could and calling almost every day. The only thing that didn’t change was the sex—although it had gotten better. Nevertheless, so much has happened over the past year. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[bee--blossom]

𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 (𝚌!𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚋𝚞𝚛 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛)

♡ synopsis: you and wilbur practice sparring, but you feel down and get frustrated when things start collapsing. it’s hurt comfort. it’s soft. mushy gushy.

♡ word count: 1,066

♡ pronouns: none

♡ tw?: a wee bit of language, a bit angsty but not really

○♡○♡○♡○♡○♡○♡○♡○♡○♡○♡○

Your labored breaths came out in shudders as your weak, bruised knees dug into the earth. One hand was on the cold, powdery ground beneath you and the other was gripping your sword, which was laying by your side. A blade was held to your chest, and a calloused hand was gripping your chin. He had you beat. Again.

“I wonder what I should do with you…” He taunted, a smug grin on his face. His grip not faltering on his weapon, he bent down and drew closer to you. His coffee eyes lingered on yours for a second. 

“Asshole.” You mumbled. He dropped his sword and laughed, and you swiftly got back up on your feet.

“Ohhh, come now. You’ll get better, just need to get some more practice in.” He pulled himself up and patted your head. You couldn’t be bothered to put up with him today, though, and began to walk away, shoving your sword back into its haltar. He watched you storm off into the cottage, the blanket of snow beneath your feet lightly dipping beneath your weight. You didn’t look behind you as you pried the door open and slammed it shut behind you. 

Night quickly sank in, and you were huddled up against the fireplace. Wilbur had been coming over recently to help you perfect your swordsmanship, and usually practice was fine. You’d spar for a bit, he’d come in for tea, and then he’d leave by dawn. It was nice having someone around, even if it was pretty strictly for practice. 

However, today was pretty bad. You felt shitty from the moment you woke up, and it only seemed to get worse. It wasn’t on him, and you still feel bad for walking off so suddenly. But admittedly, you were clumsy today and your previous frustration only fueled your exhaustion- mentally and physically. You zoned out into the fireplace, feeling the warmth envelop you as your mind went blank. The chamomile tea you had made yourself was on the ground next to you, growing colder by the second in its sage mug. You didn’t have the energy to drink it, let alone get up and reheat it. 

You were deep into your headspace when three abrupt knocks broke the stark silence. You looked to the door, not feeling like getting up. 

“Feeling sick. Don’t come in.” You yelled, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders and turning back to the fireplace. 

It was to no use, and whoever was at the door allowed themselves in. When you saw it was Wilbur, you think you’d have rather it been an axe murderer. 

His hickory trench coat was hung loosely around his shoulders, and his hair was a mess from the wind. His big leather boots dragged in wet snow residue along the wooden planks beneath them. He looked at you leaning by the fireside and seemed to be just as confused as you were, but looked at you sternly. 

“Why are you here?” You asked bluntly. “You didn’t tell me you were coming over. It’s late.”

“I know. You walked off on me earlier.” He shrugged his coat off and stepped out of his boots, now left in a burlap sweater and woolen socks. He walked towards you and sat beside you, and your anger subdued as you watched him gaze into the open flames. A warm shade of orange glew on his face, and the embers danced in the reflection of his eyes. He sighed contently, then turned to face you. “What happened?”

You felt cold when you looked at him. He was warm, in every sense of the word. Your face felt gray in comparison. “I’m okay, just felt ill.” This felt weirdly personal, but you didn’t mind at this point. He had already made himself at home, there was no bother kicking him back out into the frigid air. 

“Oh… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to taunt you earlier, especially if you’re not feeling well. You’re an excellent sparring partner.” He smiled at you. He was melting you. 

“Seriously, don’t worry about it.” You smiled back. He kept looking at you, and you wondered if he could somehow look behind your eyes and dig through your brain; find what was really wrong. 

Then, he turned to face you. Instinctively, you shifted to face him back. The knitted blanket that clung to your shoulders now gently fell to your knees, and you felt a bit awkward as he seemed to read you. 

“What’s really wrong?” 

You faltered, and for a second you broke your gaze. Suddenly every fiber on the carpet beneath you seemed to be the most worthy of your attention, and you studied them- unable to give him an answer. 

“Are you okay?” He rephrased his question. You lifted your gaze back to his, and for no reason at all, tears began to well behind your eyes.

“I uh… I don’t know.” You finally uttered quietly, and you felt nauseous. You didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of him, and you sure as hell didn’t want to cry in front of him. To that extent, you also knew you couldn’t lie in front of him. You exhaled shallowly to keep your composure. 

Before you knew what was happening, he was awkwardly shuffling towards you, and then pulling you into his arms. Your face fell into the crook of his neck, and you felt your arms tucked tightly to your side as he embraced you. The smell of smoke and timber flooded your senses, and you slowly unwound into him. You shut your eyes and felt yourself gradually moving to hug him back. 

“It’s okay, darling…” He whispered. The hands resting on your back slowly traced circles, and your breaths felt smaller. A few tears fell silently into his shoulder, and he squeezed tighter.

It was a few minutes before he pulled back. Your eyes were glassy and his cheeks were flushed, but everything in the air seemed lighter. He leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, and then got up. He took your mug with you, and he began to head for the kitchen.

“You go settle in on the couch, I’ll be there in a sec- I’m going to make us some more tea.” He spoke gently from the next room. You smiled softly, still lingering in his warmth. 

a/n: i dunno why i can’t stop writing angtsy stuff but i can’t </3 hope everyone is doing well, thank you so much for liking/following/commenting and PLEASE send prompts because i’m desperate i just am  

[painful-pooch]

For the five sentence fic - “A sharp scream rings through the bar, followed by a glass breaking and a flash of red.”

Tw: BBU (barely mentioned, more or less implied), blood, abuse, mentions of chronic pain

Star Belanger belongs to @ocean-blue-whump!!!!

Cassiel has been working in the back of the bar, cooking up his usual food for the patrons out front. It's honestly a lot of fun because whenever he is done cooking something, he gets to kiss the love of his life, his wee lamb Star. She's always smiling at him from the window between the bar and the kitchen, waiting for the next order to come out. He cooks faster when he knows she's there, because each order means a kiss and her hand against his cheek.

He loves to see her look up at him, her juniper eyes dazzling with love, hiding the pain she is going through underneath while her laugh, infectious and soft pink like a sunset, fills his ears. He knows she's always in pain, having to drink here and there. He can't stop her, but he wishes she would stop hurting herself and see what they could both do to distract her from the pain.

He only wants to cherish her for as long as she can, even if it means he has to break himself to make it happen. He rarely sleeps, but he is able to stand, smile, work, and most of all, gaze at his love while taking care of her. He finishes an order and he goes to the pass to ring the bell with the spatula. "Me love? Order nomber three is ready!" He calls out, his smile growing when she appears.

"You always look adorable there, Cas," Star laughs, her voice making him see a gentle shade pink in his vision. She leans up to kiss him and carress his cheek, the patrons of the bar cheering and raising their glasses. She pulls away to roll her eyes. "Seems like I wasn't the only one who noticed. I love you," she whispers, kissing his nose before walking off with the order.

Cas is in heaven, blushing and practically drooling after his amazing wife. He turns back to start working, humming to himself and getting back into the groove of things, trying to cash in another kiss soon. A few minutes go by, Cas wiping his sweat away using his kitchen rag when he heard something.

A sharp scream rings through the bar, followed by a glass breaking and a flash of red. The only times he sees red like that is when he was being spoken to by Rowan, but Rowan can't be there, so then... it means Star screamed. Cas drops his spatula and barges out of the kitchen, seeing Star on the floor, crimson red dripping to the floor with glass around her. "Lass!"

He rushes to her side and for some unknown reason, his vision turns fully red, glaring up at the laughing man on the other side of the counter.

"She's a stupid bartender. She messed up my order, so I gave it right to her. You got a pro-"

Too bad the man didn't expect to see Cas lunge over the counter, his snarl deep and his own voice scaring him. "I should rip yer fockin' throat out, eh? Get out of me bar!" Cas has no control of himself when his fist connected with the man's jaw, sending him tumbling back. Cas can feel his heart racing and before he can stop himself, he sees the world spin around him, crumpling to the floor.

The last thing he can hear is the wonderful voice of his wife. "Cas! Wake up, baby, please!"

[paintedpeeta]

*climbs over your garden fence* have we headcanons for Father’s Day for our local Papa Peeta?

yes. yes we absolutely have 🧑🏼‍🦱👩🏽👧🏽🧒🏼.

okay so first of all you know those toasties just absolutely become his whole life, and he does everything for them so they always want to give him a special father’s day as a thank you.

his first father’s day was one of the happiest days of his life. their baby girl was only a couple of months old, so of course it was katniss who done all of the planning and gift-giving, but just being handed a card addressed to papa while his little daughter sleeps beside him set him off and he was a bubbling mess for the rest of the day. he keeps the card always, framed and in the office space of their house that he uses as an art studio. their daughter has absolutely no concept of the occasion, but she enjoys the day spent out at the lake with her mama and papa, cooing and kicking her lil legs in the shade.

and maybe katniss could have told him he was going to be a papa again on another father’s day. i think their son would be a winter baby so it sort of checks out that she tells him around this time of year, planning a special way to tell him but most likely just blurting it out while they have a picnic in the meadow. it goes right over their daughters head but peeta almost passes out, pulling his wee wife over for a giant bear hug and placing a thousand kisses on her face. “will we ever have a father’s day where you don’t cry?”

katniss always gives him a little heads up in the morning, waking him up with kisses and love before the toasts can get to him and wake him by diving onto the bed. she doesn’t want poor papa having a heart attack because chunky toddler toastboy has launched himself full speed onto their mattress while her husband is still asleep 💀

after they’ve all had their morning snuggle in the big bed, katniss takes the bubbies to make the breakfast. peeta offers to make the breakfast so they can have a lie in, but they insist on bringing it to him in bed so he sits and waits on them. katniss does most of the preparation when the toastbabies are younger, but as the years go on she gives them more and more leeway until she’s practically just supervising.

their daughter is so thoughtful and so her gifts are always perfect and from the heart. drawings done as carefully as her little hands can manage, fully concentrating to make it special for her papa. asking mama if she can buy little things from town, like brushes and paints and sketchpads. ribbons tied around bags of her papa’s favourite candies, or sweaters that mama made messily wrapped up with colorful paper and tape.

their son is a little bit more… scatterbrained(? i don’t think that’s the right word. i just picture their son being this lil wild ball of energy, but really sweet deep down) in his younger years, so his gifts are usually like a bunch of wildflowers torn up from haymitch’s yard and some rocks he found out in the woods 💀 but it’s okay because he’s so adorable and kind and peeta is so grateful to have this type of loving family that he treats all of their presents as if they were made of gold.

katniss of course has her own gifts for him, as a thank you for being such a good dad to their kids. it’s always kind of an emotional day for her too, because she lost her pa when she was so young but everyday she gets to see her own children grow up with an amazing and loving father. this is why they almost always spend the day in the woods or the meadow or at the lake, because she’s closest to her dad there and it’s the one way she can feel like her children also know their grandpa, who’d have loved them so much.

before their children come along it’s a hard day for peeta, because his relationship with his dad didn’t seem too great and he had a lot of healing to do because of his parents. it’s not until he has kids of his own that he starts to feel a reconnection with his own father, even if he still can’t wrap his head around why he allowed his wife to treat their children the way she did, he wants his babies to know about their grandfather who was kind and fair for the most part.

everlark also start to gift haymitch on father’s day, and when the toasties come along he gets a second card addressed to “grampy haymitch.”. the old drunk would grumble and go beet red everytime, but secretly he loves all of those kids so much and he keeps every single card given to him.

[notprofessionalwriting]

. 1:47am . -  Part Two

DAMAGED GOODS 

Corpse Husband X FemReader

Summary: After accidentally calling Corpse, Y/N and him are trying to not be awkward in a park, so they play 20 questions. Corpse won’t let Y/N forget she ignored his 8ball request (she 100% did) 

Warnings: slight angst if you squint, cursing, mentions of car accidents and guns being pulled

A/N: i literally cant believe anyone read part one, thank you sm for the nice words and stuff :) 

Part 2 of ???? 

PART ONE

3:46am

You were sitting on a park bench with your skateboard next to you. The world around you was quiet, other than the occasional car speeding down the busy road next to the park. You pulled out your phone and checked your notifications, nothing. The last text you got was 10 minutes ago from Corpse saying he was on his way. 

“What the fuck am I doing?” you questioned yourself as you looked down at your board. It’s from junior year of high school. It was a beaten up Black Label skateboard, one that your crush from high school picked out for you. The only time you ever actually used it was when the two of you rode your boards together downtown after school. That was until he then began dating your other friend - then you never touched it again. 

Your gaze never parted from the board until your phone buzzed as your phone screen lit up. A text from Corpse appearing across your screen. 

3:48am

Corpse: here. 

You lifted your head and looked around in the darkness. The park around you is completely empty, the swings standing lifeless as the grim night air creeps around you. A slight chill makes it’s way up your spine and you began thinking to yourself, ‘am I going to be fucking murdered?’ The fear began to sneak upon you, your skin now crawling. Eventually, you heard the sound of a skateboard rolling towards you. Slowly, you’re able to make out the figure on the board as it begins to approach you. 

Tall, slender build, curly hair hid under a beanie, dressed in all black with a pullover hoodie. They effortlessly rode the board until their foot touched the ground, the board now stopped before you. They had a mask on, hiding most of their facial features aside their eyes and up. You were in shock, this is the first time you’ve seen him in person. In fact, you weren’t even sure if Sykkuno ever actually met up with him, despite living in the same city. Your nerves began to creep up more as you studied what features of him were available to view. So far, you declared he has the prettiest set of brown eyes you’ve ever seen. 

“Hey, y/n.” he spoke quietly, his deep voice erupting into the eerie night air. He stepped off his board and sat next to you onto the bench. 

“Hey, Corpse” you responded while giving him a small smile, looking down at your hands and twiddling with them. You were nervous being in his presence. Something about how mysterious he’s always been caused you to feel intimidated. Though, in person, you saw how anxious and awkward he actually was. He wasn’t looking you in the eyes, his hands were stuffed in his pocket and wait- was he shaking? This all made you wonder, why were you so nervous? 

He let out a breathy laugh and turned to face you, studying your features. You felt blush begin to rise to your cheeks. His high pitch laughter was one you had originally only heard through your headphones in-game, hearing it in person was a whole different experience. 

“You nervous?” he questioned you

“Uhh,” you locked eyes to him, you could tell he was smirking underneath his face mask with the way his eyes moved, “yeah actually, really fucking nervous honestly.” 

“Me too,” he chuckled and leaned forward, not making eye contact with you anymore. He rested his arms on his knees, “really fucking nervous.” 

“Why?” you let your eyes rest on his figure, studying his movements as he adjusted his beanie and anxious pulled his sleeves down to cover his hands. 

“It’s the first time I’ve been out of my apartment in fuckin’ days,” he slumped into the bench now while looking off into the nighttime, “Plus I haven’t seen more than half of my friends in person. Uhh, actually all of my friends.” 

“Well, ain’t I special?” you said, confusion festering inside of you. You felt yourself so intrigued by every movement and word that let his mouth. You wanted to watch him and listen to him talk for hours. What the fuck is happening? 

He looked over at you, yet another smirk hiding underneath his mask, “I wanted to ask you in person…”, he adjusted his seating to now face you again, “Why the fuck did you ignore my 8-Ball request?”

You stared deadpan, another laugh escaping you, “No fucking way. I totally fucking responded to that.” 

“No you didn’t,” he quickly responded, “you definitely didn’t.” 

“You brought me in the middle of a park at basically 4am to argue about 8-Ball?” You questioned him, watching his features soften more. A smile grew upon his face, brightening what you could see of his face. 

“Yes, yes I did actually.” You didn’t respond, instead you squinted your eyes and stared at him. “I-uh- I wanted to also, you know, actually talk to you?” He mumbled, “We never actually talk. Plus, you called ME at wee fucking hours in the mornin. Don’t you spin this around on me.” 

“It was an accident!!” You retorted, laughter escaping your lips so easily it felt natural to be sitting and laughing on a bench with him, “I didn’t mean to be weird and randomly call you!” 

He moved slightly close to you, slowly closing some of the space between the two of you, “Well, I was the weird one and asked you to hang out at 3am, so we’re even I guess.” 

You could smell his cologne and aftershave, and fuck it smelled amazing. He continued to mess with the sleeves of his hoodie, pulling them over his hands and tucking them anxiously in his pockets. 

“Okay, okay, my turn. What made you ask me to ‘chill’ in this park?” 

You studied him, awaiting his response. “Same reason you ‘accidentally’ called me,” he said, putting air quotation marks over the word accidentally. 

“Oh?” you jokingly questioned him, “and what’s that?” 

You wondered what he looked like under the mask. You wondered how his hair looks under his beanie. You wondered if he smelled even better under the layers of his hoodie and what appeared to be another sweatshirt underneath. Your mind began to wonder how his voice sounded like when he first woke up, or what he sounded like when he was half asleep. More thoughts began to dance throughout your head as you stared at him, looking at his eyes which showed he was smiling under his mask. 

“I wanted to get to know you better. Ya’know, actually talk and stuff.” He responded, breaking the shared eye contact and looking around you.

“And stuff?” you giggled, watching his nervous reaction. His hands were stuffed in his jacket pocket again.

“I don’t fucking know, what do normal socially inclined people do?” 

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

4:11am

“Okay, how about this,” you spoke into the uncomfortable silence that fell between the two of you after you ran out of small talk. You two were staring at each other, motionless. “20 questions?” 

“20 questions?” he questioned you, narrowing his eyebrows in confusion

“Yeah, why not?” you laughed nervously, something about him made your nerves on high alert, “you start!” 

You positioned yourself to face him on the bench, crossing your legs in front of you and resting your arms on your legs. You gauged his reaction, the look of confusion flooding his face.  

“Uhhhhhh,” he turned to face you, mimicking the way you were sitting -  crossing his legs in front of him on the bench, “uhh- i don’t fucking know, favorite color?” 

“Blue!” you exclaimed, “I’ve always loved darker shades of blue, like turquoise or- well it’s not blue-blue but aquamarine too.” 

“Aquamarine? That’s a fancy color, heh. Guess mine.” 

“Black?” you giggled, looking his outfit up and down, it was about fifty shades of black. 

He laughed his signature high pitched laughter, adjusting his sleeves to again cover his hands, “Correct. How did you guess?”  

“Oh just a hunch, that’s all. It’s your turn.” 

“Uhhh,” he pulled out his phone and began typing rapidly. You stared at his hands, luminated from his phone screen. His chipped black nail polish was uneven on his nails, his rings shining bright against the light. His hands were veiny, you found yourself unable to look away, “I’m ass at these things, so lemme google something.” He began clicking rapidly, “…. Okay okay I’m ready. Got some questions and all” He held his phone up to hide the questions as he stared at them. 

“That’s cheating!” you giggled, reaching for his phone, “you’re a fucking cheater!”

“No, no, no, there are no rules. You did not say any rules. No rules! Ahem- okay.” he cleared his throat, scrolling through the question list, “holy fuck these questions. Ok- okay this one is good. So, ahem,” he put on a fake announcer voice, causing you to giggle even more, “Have you ever been in a car accident — and it was your fault?”

“Well damn,” you laughed, “where the fuck did you find these questions?”

“Hey man, I didn’t write the question. Anyway, you gotta answer it. Spill the beans, hunny” 

“Oh geez, well yes, I have been in a car accident, no I didn’t cause it.” You watched as his face softened, a look of sorrow clouding his dark eyes, “It was when I was in high school. A friend of mine- an old friend- was driving and another car blew a red light. It was a minor accident. No one was hurt or anything, but it fucked with my anxiety for a while. I still hate driving now. So I prefer public transportation.”

“Oh fuck- I’m glad you’re okay- jesus fuck. I’m sorry.”

“Honestly, I was paranoid about any cars. I refused to get in them for about a year, but I’m able to drive now, no worries. Anyway- your turn.” 

“I for one, have never been in a car accident, thankfully. However, I have had a gun pulled on me inside of my car, if that counts.”

“You WHAT?” you interrupted him, leaning closer to him, “ex-fucking-cuse me?” His nonchalant way about talking about that baffled you. 

He giggled, how was he giggling over this? “Yeah it was fucking wild man, straight fucking wild. I lived though.” 

“Okay, my turn. Why the fuck did you have a gun pulled on you?”

“You’re not letting that go, huh?”

“NO.” You shot back at him, “that’s fucking nuts.”

“It happened so fast, I can barely recall most of it. Guy tried to rob me, but I’m too fucking broke and didn’t have anything. Threatened to blow my head off, then fucking left. I still don’t know why the fuck he picked me. Do I even appear to look like I have any sort of value? But I lived, so there’s that.”

“Oh my fucking god.” That’s all you could manage to say, the thought of anything bad happening to him now begins to worry you. You have the strong urge to protect him from all evil, at any costs. 

“Yeah- straight fucking nuts. Anyway, my turn.” He began to scroll through the questions pulled up on his phone, letting out hmms and huuhs? until he finds a question that he deems worth asking, “What embarrasses you the most and/or what’s been your most embarrassing moment?”

“Hmmmm,” you took a moment to ponder the question, there’s a lot of things you’ve done that really embarrass yourself, “Okay so I was on a date with this guy I was really into in college, like I loved this guy before we even went out.”

“Was he cute?” Corpse asked, resting his elbows on his legs and his head on his hands, a pensive stare in his eyes as he peered at you.

“Uhhhh, really fucking cute actually….,” you were lost in his eyes, you couldn’t make out the rest of his face, but you’ve declared him as one of the most attractive people you’ve seen, “... uh anyway, so we were out on a date-”

“I can’t relate.” he interrupted, laughing again. 

“Huh?” you, again, we snapped out of your story. 

“Being on asked dates, can’t relate. I have never been asked on a date.” 

“I don’t believe that. Anyway-”

“O really? I legit have never been asked out on a date,” he let out a breathy laugh, “I’ll let you finish though.” 

“Well this isn’t a good date, anyway we were at the movies on a date and it happens to be the same exact movie theater his ex was at. Same movie, same time, same everything.” 

“Oh no…” Corpse knew exactly where this was headed. 

“Yuuupp, it was a ploy to run into his ex-girlfriend. They ended up getting back together right after that happened. Exact reason I hate the entire Purge series now.” 

“Evil. Straight fucken evil. I’m sorry.” he leaned his hand over to lay it on your leg, “that’s actually fucked.” 

He was touching you. His hand was on your leg, right above your knee. You felt the sensation of touch shoot up from your leg to your stomach. Your heart began pounding a thousand beats a second. Why were you acting this way? Why was your heart racing at an innocent touch to express sorrow? You tried your best to ignore it.  

You shrugged, although it still has taken a major shot to your self esteem, “I mean, it still stings but they have two kids now so, good for them I guess.” 

“At least you’re not spending the money on diapers now,” he laughed, moving his hand away and giving you finger guns, “that shit is outrageous.”  That was the cutest shit you’ve ever seen.

“Okaay, my turn. So have you really never been asked on a date?” You watched his reaction, he quickly rubbed the back of his head again, letting out an anxious laugh. 

“I mean, I’ve been on dates with my ex before and like, two other people, but I was the one to always ask ya’know. I never had anyone take interest in me first. I’m always the initiator. It’s not really that deep though. I actually like not being bothered with relationship shit honestly. Anyway, my turn.” 

Why did that upset you? You felt a ping in your heart. A ping of sadness. What’s wrong with you?

He scrolled through the questions a bit, searching for a good one to ask. 

“Okay, this one isn’t as cringe, what's the luckiest thing that's ever happened to you?”

You thought for a moment, looking at him staring back at you. A smile forming underneath his mask despite the lack of sleep hitting you both. The early morning sky began to form around you two on the park bench, you couldn’t deny it, he was attractive. You couldn’t see his face fully, but his visible features were inviting. You wanted to see what he was hiding on the mask. He had warm eyes, curly mess hair, you imagined he was more attractive than you imagined under the mask. “Well, I’m sitting on a fucking park bench at like 5am with Corpse Husband. Completely unplanned, no sleep at all. Answering questions about our lives in the darkness. Totally random, almost face reveal and all.”

Wait what the fuck - were you just flirting with him? Why are you flirting with him? You couldn’t tell, but he seemed to blush. 

“Oh shut the fuck up,” he laughed leaning over and playfully nudging your arm, “this is after you randomly called me, don’t forget that.”

“IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!” 

“I knew you never actually wanted to talk to me.” 

“Ohmyfuckinggod.” you reached over and snatched the phone from his hand. In the process, you accidentally touched his hands, you felt another surge of butterflies rush through you again. You tried to brush them away and scrolled through the questions, “do you believe in soulmates?” 

Of all questions, you asked that one. You wanted to smack yourself. What were you doing? 

He raised his eyebrows, bringing his hands to his chin, rubbing the front part of his mask. You wondered what he looked like without the mask on again. Thoughts of his skin racing through your mind, “Huh. I don’t honestly. I don’t think anyone is truly meant for anyone. Love is fucking hard, yaknow? Sure you can be attracted and interested in someone. But to actually have a meaningful, fulfilling relationship, it doesn't just happen. You need to actually want it. Want to actually work and build with them. No one is someone’s actual soul mate. Don’t even get me started if someone dies.” 

“Period sis,” you laughed, “I’d like to believe there’s someone for everyone though.” You were a hopeless romantic, it’s showing. 

“My person is the one that probably was murdered or something,” he laughed, looking down at his pant legs, “I kinda gave up on relationships and shit anyway. I’m not really the ideal partner.”

“Why?” you didn’t mean to ask that immediately after he spoke, it slipped out

“It’s my turn, mam.” He laughed, taking his phone back, “ooooh here’s a goodie, when you can’t sleep at night, what keeps you awake?” 

“Everything,” you blurted out, laughing, “fucking everything.” 

“Mood.” 

You paused for a moment, letting go on any filter you’ve had set, tiredness is setting in and you have no control over your words, “I always feel like I’m never really good enough, yaknow? Like I don’t really belong anywhere. I feel like I’m an outsider everywhere. I guess, I guess that’s what keeps me awake at night. Damn that got really fucking emo.” 

He nodded, the two of you not speaking for a good minute. He finally broke the silence, “Yeah, yeah. I actually fully understand that feeling.” 

“My turn,” you didn’t look at the phone this time, “so why did you give up on relationships? Or finding in love, or whatever.” 

Why did you care so much? Why are you asking him this? 

He took a deep breath, letting up a breathy chuckle, “Ah fuck, I-I don’t think I’ve ever talked about this before - like out loud.” He paused for a brief second, you were moments away from telling him it was fine without answering, but he continued on, “I- I don’t really see myself as a good partner honestly. Like, I don’t go outside much. I don’t show myself anywhere - that’s actually unfair to my partners. I can’t see myself being able to fully invest myself into a relationship either, I have so much other shit going on. My life it’s self is a fucking mess, I’m a fucking mess. I don’t deserve that sense of happiness either.” 

“Why’s that?” You questioned him, staring into his eyes. Those big brown eyes shined back.

“I just don’t. I can’t go outside without fucken panicking, without worrying someone will find me. That’s why my ex left me. I couldn’t do anything with her, no, for her. She wanted to go out and do all of these lavish things, but me? I couldn’t. Literally would fucken panic at the thought. Hyperventilate, shake. What the fuck is wrong with me? I wouldn’t want any parts of that either. She got tired of waiting for me to fix myself and left. I can’t blame her, she had every right to. I can’t see myself committing to anything. I’m so accustomed to everyone leaving. I-I can’t put myself through that heartbreak. I don’t want to put myself through heartbreak again. I- I don’t know. I’m scared to get attached. I-” 

You were staring at him, lost in his eyes. Lost in the emotion of his voice as he spoke. Raw, unfiltered, passionate, and real. Every croke as he spoke, every pause, stutter. Your heart was about to break. Who hurt him so badly that they caused him to feel broken? To feel betrayed? To feel so unloveable. You wanted to speak, but you were lost in him confessing his heart to you randomly on a park bench in the center of the city.

“Corpse,” you breathed out, watching the tears begin to well up in his eyes. Wait, he’s about to fucking cry. Holy shit. How do you calm a crying person? Do you even have tissues on you? You’re not prepared for this. 

He turned his head away and cleared his throat, trying to hide his watering eyes, “Fuck I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean-uhhhhhh- fuck- uhhh, ignore me.”

“Corpse,” you again said, reaching over to grab his hand. You made contact with the top of his hand, feeling the top of his rings grace underneath your palm. His skin is soft and warm. How the fuck is his skin so soft? You wrapped your hand around his and you lost control, you squeezed his hand to let him know you were there. You were listening, processing his emotion. You were letting him know you cared. 

“Thank you, y/n.” he looked back over at you, flipping his hand around so your palms are now touching. He intertwined your fingers together. His eyes are watering still, now vulnerable and more alive.

You were holding hands. Your heart began racing, you imagined it would jump out of your chest. He scooted himself directly next to you, your legs touching now. He rested his head on your shoulder, keeping your hands intertwined. His hair smelled like… was that cherry blossoms? His head was heavy on your shoulders, but it never felt so perfectly placed. He let out a deep sigh and you felt the breath on your shoulders. You began to panic inside, but it wasn’t a bad panic. It was a nervous panic. 

“Of course,” you whisper, laying your head on top of his, “damaged goods gotta stick together.”

[boss-skye]

The Tattoo Shop

Kaidy was a distant cousin. She didn’t have the name but she got the O’Riain eyebrow, quirked halfway up her round pale, speckled face when Skye strolled into her little shop holding hands with a man.

“He’s not from around ‘ere.” Kaidy said by way of introduction, wiping a splatter of ink onto her black apron before peeling off her black nitrile gloves.

Skye only smiled, offering a tiny half-shrug as she gestured Kiosho toward a secluded room at the back of the shop. She pulled him to a stop just before a beaded curtain at the end of a long hallway as she laced her fingers through his hair to make him kiss her. 

“Take off your shirt.” She kissed the highest point of his pretty brown cheek. “Get comfortable.” She kissed the tip of his perfect nose. “I’ll be with ye shortly, mo ghaol.”

“When you said you wanted a signature-” Kaidy started from the sink as she washed her hands. She dried them with a sterile blue towel, steam pressed so crisp the folds remained even after she’d tossed it, half wet into a bin. 

“Aye.” Skye said dryly, waving a hand to rush the artist’s moment of shock and awe along for efficiency’s sake. “Kaidy, I have an even stranger… need.”

–

"Holy fucking shit-" Kio made a choking noise, but to his credit, managed to stay mostly still while Skye's cousin Kaidy worked a tattoo gun over the cut of his hip, just under the left edge of his adonis belt. 

It wasn't the needle as much as his girlfriend's painted mouth, warm and wet and working in perfect rhythm with her spit-slicked fist that had him reeling. “Baby- fucking- Shit. Fuuuuck.” His hands got heavier in her silky red hair and Kaidy used the momentary tension shaking his body to dip the tattoo gun back into the tiny capful of ink on her steel side table. 

Somehow the pain of the tattoo wasn’t just lessened by the electric shocks of pure carnal satisfaction every time Skye swallowed around the head of his dick, but impossibly it made the whole thing more intense. Or it could have been the molly she fed him from her tongue with her juices still slick on his beard an hour and a half ago.

She released him only to smile up from between his knees, only barely even aware of the other woman still working at inking her name into his hip - a joke about branding that turned anything but teasing.

“Ah ah. No yet, mo ghaol.” She never took her eyes off him, despite the way they watered from lack of air and earlier exertions as she slow stroked her fist over him from root to tip, teasing away the roaring fires of impending eruption with low, whispered encouragement. 

“Such a bonnie fuckin’ cock, righ.” She kissed the very tip of his swollen head, smiling and licking away the string of precum that chased her lips as Kio groaned and pulsed in her hand. “I ken, ghaol. We’re almost there.”

Kiosho could only spit another string of heavy curses, breaking Skye’s blue steel gaze only to watch the progress of her name across his hip. 

Kaidy could feel his eyes on her, saying “Just a wee bit more,” and praying silently to finish before Skye O’Riain mounted her… partner? That bit made her head hurt. She shook it as she worked the last few strokes of faded shading to round out the style of the lettering. 

She had tattooed lots of names on lots of folks. And Skye’s name more than once. But never with her support or consent - which is what made this particular one interesting. Either way, she figured with another shake of her head, she didn’t get paid to ask or tell.

She finished her work with her head down and turned to gather the mess at her station.

“Should come back and see me for some actual art sometime.” She grinned, turning and expecting a friendly parting conversation only to watch the pair work together as Skye climbed into Kio’s lap. Kiosho reached to peel her tight leather skirt up her long thighs with one hand and pushed her lacy green panties to the side with the other. 

“Alright then.” Kaidy cleared her throat and did a mental inventory of her home liquor cabinet. It was always an interesting day at work when an O’Riain came strolling through her door. “Always good to see you, Skye.”